[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of thefile for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making anentire meal of them. D. W. ] A THORNY PATH By Georg Ebers Volume 3. CHAPTER VIII. The sun had passed the meridian when Melissa and Andreas left the house. They walked on in silence through the deserted streets, the girl with hereyes sadly fixed on the ground; for an inward voice warned her that herlover's life was in danger. She did not sob, but more than once shewiped away a large tear. Andreas, too, was lost in his own thoughts. To win a soul to the Saviourwas surely a good work. He knew Melissa's sober, thoughtful nature, andthe retired, joyless life she led with her surly old father. So hisknowledge of human nature led him to think that she, if any one, mighteasily be won over to the faith in which he found his chief happiness. Baptism had given such sanctification to his life that he longed to leadthe daughter of the only woman for whom his heart had ever beat a shadefaster, to the baptismal font. In the heat of summer Olympias had oftenbeen the guest for weeks together of Polybius's wife, now likewise dead. Then she had taken a little house of her own for herself and herchildren, and when his master's wife died, the lonely widower had knownno greater pleasure than that of receiving her on his estate for as longas Heron would allow her to remain; he himself never left his work forlong. Thus Andreas had become the great ally of the gem-cutter'schildren, and, as they could learn nothing from him that was not good andworth knowing, Olympias had gladly allowed them to remain in his society, and herself found a teacher and friend in the worthy steward. She knewthat Andreas had joined the Christians; she had made him tell her muchabout his faith; still, as the daughter and wife of artists, she wasfirmly attached to the old gods, and could only regard the Christiandoctrine as a new system of philosophy in which many things attractedher, but many, on the other hand, repelled her. At that time his passionfor Melissa's mother had possessed him so wholly that his life was aconstant struggle against the temptation to covet his neighbor's wife. And he had conquered, doing severe penance for every glance which mightfor an instant betray to her the weakness of his soul. She had lovedflowers, and he knew the plant-world so well, and was so absolutelymaster over everything which grew and bloomed in the gardens of which hehad charge, that he could often intrust his speechless favorites to tellher things which lips and eyes might not reveal. Now she was no more, and the culture of plants had lost half its charm since her eyes could nolonger watch their thriving. He now left the gardens for the most partto his men, while he devoted himself to other cares with doublediligence, and to the strictest exercises of his faith. But, as many a man adores the children of the woman he might not marry, Alexander and Melissa daily grew dearer to Andreas. He took a father'sinterest in their welfare, and, needing little himself, he carefullyhoarded his ample income to promote the cause of Christianity andencourage good works; but he had paid Alexander's debts when his time ofapprenticeship was over, for they were so considerable that the recklessyouth had not dared confess the sum to his stern father. Very soon after this, Alexander had become one of the most popularpainters of the town; and when he proposed to repay his friend the moneyhe had lent him, Andreas accepted it; but he added it to a capital ofwhich the purpose was his secret, but which, if his prayers were heard, might return once more to benefit Alexander. Diodoros, too, was as dearto the freedman as a son of his own could have been, though he was aheathen. In the gymnasium and the race-course, or in the practice of themysteries, the good seed which he sowed in the lad's heart was troddendown. Polybius, too, was an utter heathen; indeed, he was one of thepriests of Dionysus and Demeter, as his wealth and position in the senaterequired. Then, Diodoros had confessed to him that he hoped to win Melissa for hiswife, and this had been adverse to Andreas's hope and purpose of making aChristian of the girl; for he knew by experience how easily marriedhappiness was wrecked when man and wife worship different gods. But whenthe freedman had again seen the gem-cutter's brutality and the girl'sfilial patience, an inward voice had called to him that this gentle, gifted creature was one of those elect from among whom the Lord chose themartyrs for the faith; and that it was his part to lead her into the foldof the Redeemer. He had begun the work of converting her with the zealhe put into everything. But fresh doubts had come upon him on thethreshold of the sick-room, after seeing the lad who was so dear to him, and whose eye had met his with such a trustful, suffering look. Could itbe right to sow the seed of discord between him and his future wife? Andsupposing Diodoros, too, should be converted by Melissa, could he thusalienate from his father the son and heir of Polybius--his benefactor andmaster? Then, he remembered, too, to what a position he had risen through thatmaster's confidence in him. Polybius knew nothing of the concerns of hishouse but from the reports laid before him by Andreas; for the stewardcontrolled not merely the estate but the fortune of the family, and foryears had been at the head of the bank which he himself had founded toincrease the already vast income of the man to whom he owed his freedom. Polybius paid him a considerable portion of each year's profits, and hadsaid one day at a banquet, with the epigrammatic wit of an Alexandrian, that his freedman, Andreas, served his interests as only one other mancould do--namely, himself--but with the industry of ten. The Christiangreatly appreciated his confidence; and as he walked on by the side ofMelissa, he told himself again and again that it would be dishonorable tobetray it. If only the sweet girl might find the way alone! If she were chosen tosalvation, the Lord himself would lead and guide her. Had he indeed notbeckoned her already by impressing on her heart those words, "Thefullness of the time is now come?" That he was justified in keeping this remembrance alive he had no doubt;and he was about to speak of it again, when she prevented him by raisingher large eyes beseechingly to his, and asking him: "Is Diodoros in real danger? Tell me the truth. I would rather endurethe worst than this dreadful anxiety. " So Andreas acknowledged that the youth was in a bad way, but thatPtolemaeus, himself well-skilled, hoped to cure him if his greatercolleague Galenus would aid him. "And it is to secure his assistance, then, " Melissa went on, "that theleech would have him carried to the Serapeum?" "Yes, my child. For he is in Caesar's train, and it would be vain to tryto speak with him to-day or to-morrow. " "But the journey through the town will do the sufferer a mischief. " "He will be carried in a litter. " "But even that is not good for him. Perfect quiet, Ptolemaeus said, wasthe best medicine. " "But Galenus has even better remedies at hand, " was the reply. Melissa seemed satisfied with this assurance, for she walked on for sometime in silence. But when the uproar of the crowd in the vicinity of theSerapeum became more audible as they advanced, she suddenly stood still, and said: "Come what may, I will find my way to the great physician's presence andcrave his help. " "You?" cried the freedman; and when she firmlyreiterated her purpose, the strong man turned pale. "You know not what you say!" he exclaimed, in deep concern. "The menwho guard the approaches to Caracalla are ruthless profligates, devoid ofcourtesy or conscience. But, you may rely upon it, you will not even getinto the antechamber. " "Perhaps. Nevertheless, it is my duty, and I will try. " How firmly and decisively she spoke! And what strength of will sparkledin the quiet, modest maiden's eyes! And the closely set lips, whichusually were slightly parted, and hardly covered two of her pearly whiteteeth, gave her a look of such determination, that Andreas could see thatno obstacle would check her. Still, love and duty alike required him to use every means in his powerto keep her from taking such a step. He lavished all his eloquence; butshe adhered to her purpose with steadfast persistency, and none of thereasons he could adduce to prove the impossibility of the undertakingconvinced her. The only point which staggered her was the informationthat the great leech was an old man, who walked with difficulty; and thatGalen, as a heathen and a disciple of Aristotle, would never be inducedto enter a Christian dwelling. Both these facts might be a serioushindrance to her scheme; yet she would not now stop to reflect. They hadgot back to the great street of Hermes, leading from the temple of thatgod to the Serapeum, and must cross it to reach the lake, their immediatedestination. As in all the principal streets of Alexandria, a colonnadebordered the street in front of the houses on each side of the wide andhandsome roadway. Under these arcades the foot-passengers were closelypacked, awaiting Caesar's passage. He must soon be coming, for thereception, first at the Kanopic Gate, and then at the Gate of the Sun, was long since over; and, even if he had carried out his purpose ofhalting at the tomb of Alexander the Great, he could not be detained muchlonger. The distance hither down the Kanopic Way was not great, andswift horses would quickly bring him down the Aspendia street to that ofHermes, leading straight to the Serapeum. His train was not to followhim to the Soma, the mausoleum of the founder of the city, but to turnoff to the southward by the Paneum, and make a round into the street ofHermes. The praetorians, the German body-guard, the imperial Macedonian phalanx, and some mounted standard-bearers had by this time reached the spot whereMelissa was proceeding up the street holding Andreas's hand. Close bythem came also a train of slaves, carrying baskets full of palm-leavesand fresh branches of ivy, myrtle, poplar, and pine, from the gardens ofthe Paneum, to be carried to the Serapeum. They were escorted bylictors, endeavoring with their axes and fasces to make a way for themthrough the living wall which barred their way. By the help of the mounted troops, who kept the main road clear, spacewas made for them; and Andreas, who knew one of the overseers of thegarden-slaves, begged him as a favor to allow Melissa and himself to walkamong his people. This was willingly granted to so well-known a man; andthe way was quite free for the moment, because the imperial cartage hadnot followed immediately on the soldiers who had now all marched past. Thus, among the flower-bearers, they reached the middle of the street;and while the slaves proceeded on their way to the Serapeum, the freedmantried to cross the road, and reach the continuation of the street theyhad come by, and which led to the lake. But the attempt was frustrated, for some Roman lictors who had just come up stood in their way, and sentthem to the southern side of the street of Hermes, to mingle with thegaping crowd under the arcade. They were, of course, but ill received by these, since they naturallyfound themselves in front of the foremost rank; but the stalwart frameand determined face of Andreas, and the exceptional beauty of his youngcompanion, over whose pretty head most of the gazers could easily see, protected her from rough treatment. Andreas spoke a few words of apology to those standing nearest to them, and a young goldsmith at once courteously made way, so that Melissa, whohad taken a place behind a column, might see better. And in a few minutes--there was that to see which made every one forgetthe intruders. Vehicles and outriders, litters swung between mules, and a long train of imperial footmen, in red tunics embroidered withgold, huntsmen with leashes of noble dogs, baggage-wagons and loadedelephants, came trooping down toward the Serapeum; while suddenly, fromthe Aspendia into the Hermes Way, the Numidian horse rushed out, followedby a troop of mounted lictors, who galloped up the street, shouting theirorders in loud tones to the imperial train, in a mixture of Latin andGreek, of which Melissa understood only the words "Caesar!" and "Make wayto the right!" The command was instantly obeyed. Vehicles, foot-passengers, and ridersalike crowded to the southern or left-hand side of the road, and themany-headed throng, of which Andreas and Melissa formed a part, drew asfar back as possible under the colonnade; for on the edge of the footwaythere was the risk of being trampled on by a horse or crushed by a wheel. The back rows of the populace, who had collected under the arcades, wereseverely squeezed by this fresh pressure from without, and their outcrieswere loud of anger, alarm; or pain; while on the other side of the streetarose shouts of delight and triumph, or, when anything singular came intoview, loud laughter at the wit and irony of some jester. Added to thesethere were the clatter of hoofs and the roll of wheels, the whinnying ofhorses, the shouts of command, the rattle of drums, the blare oftrumpets, and the shrill pipe of flutes, without a moment's pause. Itwas a wild and ear-splitting tumult; to Melissa, however, neither painfulnor pleasing, for the one idea, that she must speak with the greatphysician, silenced every other. But suddenly there came up from theeast, from the rising of the sun, whose course Caesar had followed, sucha tremendous roar that she involuntarily clutched her companion's hand. Every instant the storm of noise increased, rolling on with irresistiblevehemence, gathering force as it came on, receiving, as it were, freshtributaries on its way, and rapidly swelling from the distance to theimmediate vicinity, compelling every one, as with a magic power, to yieldto the superior will of numbers and join in the cry. Even Melissacheered. She, too, was as a drop in the tide, a leaf on the ripplingface of the rushing torrent; her heart beat as wildly and her voice rangas clear as that of the rest of the throng, intoxicated with they knewnot what, which crowded the colonnades by the roadway, and every windowand roof-top, waving handkerchiefs, strewing flowers on the ground, andwiping the tears which this unwonted excitement had brought to theireyes. And now the shout is so tremendous that it could not possibly be louder. It seems as though it were the union of voices innumerable rather thanthe seabreeze, which flutters the pennons and flags which wave from everyhouse and arch, and sways the garlands hung across the street. Melissacan see none but flushed faces, eyes swimming in tears, parted lips, wildly waving arms and hands. Then suddenly a mysterious power hushesthe loud tones close round her; she hears only here and there the cry of"Caesar!" "He is coming!" "Here he is!"--and the swift tramp of hoofsand the clatter of wheels sounding like the rattle of an iron buildingafter a peal of thunder, above the shouts of ten thousand human beings. Closer it comes and closer, without a pause, and followed by freshshouting, as a flock of daws follow an owl flying across the twilight, swelling again to irrepressible triumph as the expected potentate rushespast Melissa and her neighbors. They only see Caesar as a form scarcelydiscerned by the eye during the space of a lightning-flash in a darknight. Four tawny bay horses of medium size, dappled with black, harnessedabreast and wide apart, fly along the cleared road like hunted foxes, thelight Gallic chariot at their heels. The wheels seem scarcely to touchthe smooth flags of the Alexandrian pavement. The charioteer wears thered-bordered toga of the highest Roman officials. He is well known byrepute, and the subject of many a sharp jest; for this is Pandion, formerly a stableboy, and now one of "Caesar's friends, " a praetor, andone of the great men of the empire. But he knows his business; and whatdoes Caracalla care for tradition or descent, for the murmurs anddiscontent of high or low? Pandion holds the reins with elegant composure, and urges the horses to afrantic pace by a mere whistle, without ever using the whip. But why isit that he whirls the mighty monarch of half a world, before whosebloodthirsty power every one quakes, so swiftly past these eagerspectators? Sunk in the cushions on one side, Bassianus Antoninus isreclining rather than sitting in the four-wheeled open chariot of Gallicmake which sweeps past. He does not vouchsafe a glance at the jubilantcrowd, but gazes down at the road, his well-shaped brow so deeplyfurrowed with gloom that he might be meditating some evil deed. It is easy to discern that he is of middle height; that his upper lip andcheeks are unshaven, and his chin smooth; that his hair is already thin, though he lacks two years of thirty; and that his complexion is pale andsallow; indeed, his aspect is familiar from statues and coins, many ofwhich are of base metal. Most of those who thus beheld the man who held in his hand the fate ofeach individual he passed, as of the empire at large, involuntarily askedthemselves afterward what impression he had made on them; and Caracallahimself would have rejoiced in the answer, for he aimed not at beingattractive or admired, but only at being feared. But, indeed, they hadlong since learned that there was nothing too horrible to be expected ofhim; and, now that they had seen him, they were of opinion that hisappearance answered to his deeds. It would be hard to picture a moresinister and menacing looking man than this emperor, with his avertedlooks and his haughty contempt for the world and mankind; and yet therewas something about him which made it difficult to take him seriously, especially to an Alexandrian. There was a touch of the grotesque in theGallic robe with a red hood in which this ominous-looking contemner ofhumanity was wrapped. It was called a 'Caracalla', and it was from thisgarment that Bassianus Antoninus had gained his nickname. The tyrant who wore this gaudy cloak was, no doubt, devoid alike of truthand conscience; but, as to his being a philosopher, who knew theworthlessness of earthly things and turned his back upon the world, thosewho could might believe it! He was no more than an actor, who played thepart of Timon not amiss, and who made use of his public to work upontheir fears and enjoy the sight of their anguish. There was somethinglacking in him to make one of those thorough-going haters of their kindat whose mere aspect every knee must bend. The appearance, in short, ofthis false philosopher was not calculated to subdue the rash tongues ofthe Alexandrians. To this many of them agreed; still, there was no time for suchreflections till the dust had shrouded the chariot, which vanished asquickly as it had come, till the shouting was stilled, and the crowd hadspread over the roadway again. Then they began to ask themselves whythey had joined in the acclamations, and had been so wildly excited; howit was that they had so promptly surrendered their self-possession anddignity for the sake of this wicked little man. Perhaps it was hisunlimited control over the weal and woe of the world, over the life anddeath of millions, which raised a mortal, not otherwise formed forgreatness, so far above common humanity to a semblance of divinity. Perhaps it was the instinctive craving to take part in the grandimpulsive expression of thousands of others that had carried away eachindividual. It was beyond a doubt a mysterious force which had compelledevery one to do as his neighbors did as soon as Caesar had appeared. Melissa had succumbed with the rest; she had shouted and waved herkerchief, and had not heeded Andreas when he held her hand and asked herto consider what a criminal this man was whom she so eagerly hailed. Itwas not till all was still again that she recollected herself, and herdetermination to get the famous physician to visit her lover revived inrenewed strength. Fully resolved to dare all, she looked about with calm scrutiny, considering the ways and means of achieving her purpose without any aidfrom Andreas. She was in a fever of impatience, and longed to force herway at once into the Serapeum. But that was out of the question, for noone moved from his place. There was, however, plenty to be seen. Acomplete revulsion of feeling had come over the crowd. In the place ofExpectancy, its graceless step-child, Disappointment, held sway. Therewere no more shouts of joy; men's lungs were no longer strained to theutmost, but their tongues were all the busier. Caesar was for the mostpart spoken of with contempt as Tarautas, and with the bitterness--thegrandchild of Expectancy-which comes of disappointment. Tarautas hadoriginally been the name of a stunted but particularly bloodthirstygladiator, in whom ill-will had traced some resemblance to Caesar. The more remarkable figures in the imperial train were curiously gazedat and discussed. A worker in mosaic, who stood near Melissa, had beenemployed in the decoration of the baths of Caracalla at Rome, and hadmuch information to impart; he even knew the names of several of thesenators and courtiers attached to Caesar. And, with all this, time wasfound to give vent to discontent. The town had done its utmost to make itself fine enough to receive theemperor. Statues had been erected of himself, of his father, his mother, and even of his favorite heroes, above all of Alexander the Great;triumphal arches without number had been constructed. The vast halls ofthe Serapeum, through which he was to pass, had been magnificentlydecorated; and in front of the new temple, outside the Kanopic Gate, dedicated to his father, who now ranked among the gods, the elders of thetown had been received by Caesar, to do him homage and offer him thegifts of the city. All this had cost many talents, a whole heap of gold;but Alexandria was wealthy, and ready to make even greater sacrifices ifonly they had been accepted with thanks and condescension. But a youngactor, who had been a spectator of the scene at the Kanopic Gate, and hadthen hurried hither, declared, with dramatic indignation, that Caesar hadonly replied in a few surly words to the address of the senate, and evenwhile he accepted the gift had looked as if he were being ill-used. Thedelegates had retired as though they had been condemned to death. Tonone but Timotheus, the high-priest of Serapis, had he spoken graciously. Others confirmed this report; and dissatisfaction found expression inmuttered abuse or satirical remarks and bitter witticisms. "Why did he drive past so quickly?" asked a tailor's wife; and some onereplied: "Because the Eumenides, who haunt him for murdering his brother, lash himon with their whips of snakes!" A spice-merchant; who was not less indignant but more cautious, hearing aneighbor inquire why Tarautas drove panther-spotted horses, replied thatsuch beasts of prey had spotted skins, and that like to like was a commonrule. A cynical philosopher, who proclaimed his sect by his raggedgarment, unkempt hair, and rough mode of speech, declared that Caesar hada senator to guide his chariot because he had long since succeeded inturning the senate-house into a stable. To all this, however, Melissa turned a deaf ear, for the thought of thegreat Roman leech possessed her mind entirely. She listened earnestly tothe mosaic-worker, who had come close up to her, and officiouslymentioned the names of the most important personages as they went past. Caesar's train seemed endless. It included not merely horse and footsoldiers, but numberless baggage-wagons, cars, elephants--which Caracallaespecially affected, because Alexander the Great had been fond of thesehuge beasts--horses, mules, and asses, loaded with bales, cases, tents, and camp and kitchen furniture. Mingling with these came sutlers, attendants, pages, heralds, musicians, and slaves of the imperialhousehold, in knots and parties, looking boldly about them at thebystanders. When they caught sight of a young and pretty woman on theedge of the path, they would wave a greeting; and many expressed theiradmiration of Melissa in a very insolent manner. Woolly-headed negroesand swarthy natives of north Africa mixed with the fairer dwellers on theMediterranean and the yellow or red haired sons of northern Europe. Roman lictors, and Scythian, Thracian, or Keltic men-at-arms kept everyone out of the way who did not belong to the imperial train, withrelentless determination. Only the Magians, wonder-workers, and streetwenches were suffered to push their way in among the horses, asses, elephants, dogs, vehicles, and mounted troops. Each time that one of the unwieldy traveling-carriages, drawn by severalhorses, came in sight, in which the wealthy Roman was wont to take hisease on a long journey, or whenever a particularly splendid litter wasborne past, Melissa asked the mosaic-worker for information. In some fewinstances Andreas could satisfy her curiosity, for he had spent somemonths at Antioch on a matter of business, and had there come to know bysight some of Caesar's most illustrious companions. So far the great Galenus was not of the number; for Caracalla, who wasailing, had but lately commanded his presence. The famous physician hadsailed for Pelusium, in spite of his advanced age, and had only justjoined the sovereign's suite. The old man's chariot had been pointed outto the mosaic-worker at the Kanopic Gate, and he was certain that hecould not mistake it for any other; it was one of the largest andhandsomest; the side doors of it were decorated with the AEsculapiusstaff and the cup of Hygeia in silver, and on the top were statuettes inwood of Minerva and of AEsculapius. On hearing all this, Melissa's facebeamed with happy and hopeful anticipation. With one hand pressed to herthrobbing bosom, she watched each vehicle as it drove past with suchintense expectancy that she paid no heed to Andreas's hint that theymight now be able to make their way through the crowd. Now--and the freedman had called her once more--here was anothermonstrous conveyance, belonging to Julius Paulinus, the former consul, whose keen face, with its bright, merry eyes, looked out between thesilken curtains by the side of the grave, unsympathetic countenance ofDion Cassius the senator and historian. The consul, her informant told her--and Andreas confirmed the statement--had displeased Severus, Caracalla's father, by some biting jest, but, onbeing threatened with death, disarmed his wrath by saying, "You canindeed have my head cut off, but neither you nor I can keep it steady. " Those of the populace who stood near enough to the speaker to hear thisanecdote broke out in loud cheers, in which they were joined by otherswho had no idea of what had given rise to them. The consul's chariot was followed by a crowd of clients, domesticofficials, and slaves, in litters, on horses or mules, or on foot; andbehind these again came another vehicle, for some time concealed fromsight by dust. But when at last the ten fine horses which drew it hadgone past Melissa, and the top of the vehicle became visible, the colormounted to her cheeks, for on the corners of the front she recognized thefigures of AEsculapius and Minerva, which, if the mosaic-worker wereright, distinguished the chariot of Galenus. She listened breathlesslyto the roll of the wheels of this coach, and she soon perceived thesilver AEsculapius staff and bowl on the wide door of this house onwheels, which was painted blue. At an open window by the door a kindlyold face was visible, framed in long, gray hair. Melissa started at hearing the order to halt shouted from the Serapeum, far down the road, and again, close at hand, "Halt!" The procession cameto a standstill, the riders drew rein, the blue wheels ceased to turn, the coach was immovable but a few steps in front of her, and her eyes metthose of the old man. The thought flashed through her brain that Fateitself had brought about this pause just at this spot; and when she heardthe mosaic-worker exclaim, "The great Roman physician!" horses, coach, and everything swam before her eyes; she snatched her hand away from thatof Andreas, and stepped out on the roadway. In an instant she wasstanding face to face with the venerable leech. She heard the warning voice of her companion, she saw the crowd staringat her, she had, no doubt, a brief struggle with her maidenly shyness, but she carried out her purpose. The thought that the gods themselveswere helping her to appeal to the only man who could save her lover, encouraged her to defy every obstacle. She was standing by the vehicle; and scarcely had she raised her sweet, innocent, blushing face with pathetic and touching entreaty to the white-haired Roman, her large, tear-filled eyes meeting his, when he beckonedher to him, and in pleasant, sympathetic tones desired to know what shewanted. Then she made bold to ask whether he were the great Romanphysician, and he replied with a flattered and kindly smile that he wassometimes so called. Her thankful glance to heaven revealed what acomfort his words were, and now her rosy lips moved freely, and shehurriedly, but with growing courage, gave him to understand that herbetrothed, the son of a respected Roman citizen of Alexandria, was lyingbadly wounded in the head by a stone, and that the leech who was treatinghim had said that none but he, the great Galenus, could save the youngman's life. She also explained that Ptolemaeus, though he had said thatDiodoros needed quiet above all things, had proposed to carry him to theSerapeum, and to commend him there to the care of his greater colleague, but that she feared the worst results from the move. She glancedpleadingly into the Roman's eyes, and added that he looked so kind thatshe hoped that he would go instead to see the sufferer, who had, quite bychance, been taken into a Christian house not very far from the Serapeum, where he was being taken good care of, and--as a matter of course--cureher lover. The old man had only interrupted her tale with a few sly questions as toher love-affair and her religion; for when she had told him that Diodoroswas under the care of Christians, it had occurred to him that this simplybut not poorly dressed girl, with her modest ways and sweet, calm face, might herself be a Christian. He was almost surprised when she deniedit, and yet he seemed pleased, and promised to grant her request. It wasnot fitting that a girl so young should enter any house where Caesar andhis train took up their abode; he would wait for her, "there"--and hepointed to a small, round temple to Aphrodite, on the left-hand side ofthe street of Hermes, where the road was rather wider--for the coach hadmeanwhile slowly moved on. Next day, at three hours after the rising of the fierce African sun--forhe could not bear its meridian heat--he would go thither in his litter. "And be sure you are there in good time!" he added, shaking his fingerat her. "If you come an hour too soon, you will find me waiting!" she cried. He laughed, and said, "What pretty maid, indeed, would dare to be latefor an appointment under the very eyes of the goddess of Love!" He badeher a friendly farewell, and lay back in the chariot. Melissa, radiant with happiness, looked about her for the place where shehad left her companion. However, in spite of the lictors, Andreas hadfollowed her; he drew her hand under his arm, and led her through thenow-thinning crowd into a sidelane which led to the lake, opening out ofthe colonnaded street opposite the little temple. Melissa's steps were winged. Her joy at having gained her end so quicklyand so easily was uppermost in her mind, and as they threaded their wayamong the people she tried to tell Andreas what the great physician hadpromised. But the noise drowned her speech, for at this moment Caesar'stame lion, named the "Sword of Persia" was being led through the streetby some Numidian slaves. Every one was looking at the splendid beast; and, as she too turned togaze, her eye met the ardent glance of a tall, bearded man standing atthe window of a house just behind the round temple to Aphrodite. She atonce recognized Serapion, the Magian, and whispered his name to Andreas;he, however, without looking round, only drew her along more quickly, anddid not breathe easily till they found themselves in the narrow, desertedalley. The Magian had observed her while she stood by the Roman's chariot, andhis conversation with a Syrian of middle age in his company had been ofher. His companion's appearance was as insignificant as his own wasstately and commanding. Nothing distinguished the Syrian from a thousandof his fellows but the cunning stamped on his sharply-cut features;still, the great Magian seemed to hold him in some esteem, for he readilyreplied to the little man's questions and remarks. At this moment the Syrian waved his hand in the air with a gesture commonto men of his race when displaying their own superior knowledge, as hesaid "What did I spend ten years in Rome for, if I do not know SerenusSamonicus? He is the greatest book-collector in the empire. And heregards himself as a second AEsculapius, and has written a book onmedicine in verse, which Geta, Caesar's murdered brother, always hadabout him, for he regarded the physicians here as mere bunglers. He isas rich as the Alabarch, and riding in his coach is Galenus, for whomCaesar sent. What can that girl want of him?" "H'm!" muttered the other, stroking his beard with thoughtful dignity. "She is a modest maiden; it can only be something urgent and importantwhich has prompted her to address the Roman. " "Your Castor will be able to find out, " replied the Syrian Annianus. "That omniscient rascal can get through a key-hole, and by to-morrow willbe the best friend of the Roman's people, if you care to know. " "We will see, " said Serapion. "Her brother, perhaps, to-morrow evening, will tell me what is going on. " "The philosopher?" said the other, with a contemptuous flourish. "Youare a great sage, Serapion, as the people hold; but you often sew withneedles too fine for me. Why, just now, when Caesar is here, and gainand honor be in the streets for such a one as you only to stoop for--why, I say, you should waste precious time on that poring fellow from theMuseum, I can not understand. " A superior smile parted the Magian's lips; he stepped back into the room, followed by Annianus, and replied: "You know how many who call themselves Magians will crowd round Caesar, and the fame of Sosibius, Hananja, and Kaimis, is not much behind mine. Each plies his art by his own formulas, though he may call himself aPythagorean or what not. None dare claim to belong to any recognizedschool, since the philosophers of the guild pride themselves oncondemning the miracle-mongers. Now, in his youth, Caracalla wentthrough his courses of philosophy. He detests Aristotle, and has alwaysattached himself to Plato and the Pythagoreans. You yourself told methat by his desire Philostratus is writing a life of Apollonius of Tyana;and, though he may turn up his nose at the hair-splitting and fritteringof the sages of the Museum, it is in his blood to look for marvels fromthose privileged philosophers. His mother has made courtiers of themagain; and he, who looks for everything from the magic arts, has neveryet met a Magian who could have been one of them. " At this the Syrian clapped his hands, exclaiming: "And you propose to usePhilip as your signbearer to talk to the emperor of a thaumaturgist whois hand in hand with all the learning of the Museum? A cursed good idea!But the gem-cutter's son does not look like a simpleton; and he is askeptic into the bargain, and believes in nothing. If you catch him, I shall really and truly believe in your miraculous powers. " "There are harder things than catching him, " said the Magian. "You mean to break his will, " said the Syrian, looking down at theground, "by your eye and the laying on of hands, as you did mine andTriphis's two years ago?" "That, no doubt, formed the first bond between us, " said Serapion. "I now need only your ventriloquism. Philip himself will come half-wayto meet me on the main point. " "And what is that?" "You called him a skeptic, and he does, in fact, pride himself on goingfurther than the old masters of the school. Diligent study has broughthim to the point of regarding nothing as certain, but, on the otherhand, everything as possible. The last result he can arrive at is theprobability--since certainty there is none--that it is impossible everto know anything, be it what it may. He is always ready to listen withsympathetic attention to the arguments for the reappearance of the soulsof the dead in the earthly form they have quitted, to visit and conversewith the living. He considers it a fallacy to say that anything isimpossible; and my arguments are substantial. Korinna will appear tohim. Castor has discovered a girl who is her very image. Your arts willconvince him that it is she who speaks to him, for he never heard hervoice in life, and all this must rouse his desire to see her again andagain. And thus the skeptic will be convinced, in spite of his owndoctrine. In this, as in every other case, it is the passionate wishthat gives rise to the belief. " "And when you have succeeded in getting him to this point?" asked theSyrian, anxiously. "Then, " replied the Magian, "he will help me, with his triumphantdialectics, to win Caesar over to the same conviction; and then we shallbe able to satisfy the emperor's desire to hold intercourse with thedead; and for that I count on your power of making voices proceed fromany person present. " He said no more. The little man looked up at him approvingly, and said, modestly: "You are indeed wise, Serapion, and I will do my best to helpyou. The next thing to be done is to seek representatives of the greatAlexander, of Apollonius of Tyana, and of Caesar's brother, father-in-law, and wife. " "Not forgetting Papinian, the noblest of his victims, " added the Magian. "Back again already, Castor?" These words were addressed to a tall and apparently elderly man in a longwhite robe, who had slipped in without a sound. His demeanor was sograve and dignified that he looked precisely like a Christian priestimpressed with the sanctity of his office; but hardly had he got into theroom, and greeted the Magian with much unction, than he pulled the whitegarment off over his head, rubbed from his cheeks the lines which gavehim twenty added years, stretched his lithe limbs, and exclaimed withdelight: "I have got her! Old Dorothea will bring her to your theatre!"--and theyoung fellow's mobile face beamed with the happy radiance of success. It almost seemed as though fermenting wine flowed in the man's veinsinstead of blood; for, when he had made his report to the Magian, and hadbeen rewarded with a handful of gold-pieces, he tossed the coins in theair, caught them like flies in the hollow of his hand, and then pitchedwheel fashion over head and heels from one end of the room to the other. Then, when he stood on his feet once more, he went on, without a sign ofbreathlessness: "Forgive me, my lord! Nature asserts her rights. To play the pious forthree whole hours! Eternal gods, that is a hard task, and a man must--" "I know all about it, " Serapion broke in with a smile and a threateningfinger. "Now go and stretch your limbs, and then share your lightlyearned gains with some pretty flute-player. But I want you again thisevening; so, if you feel weak, I shall lock you up. " "Do, " said Castor, as earnestly as if he had been promised some pleasure. "What a merry, good-for-nothing set they are!-Dorothea will bring thegirl at the appointed hour. Everything is arranged. " Whereupon he danced out of the room, singing a tune. "An invaluable creature!" said the Syrian, with an admiring glance. "A better one spoiled, " said Serapion. "He has the very highest gifts, but is utterly devoid of conscience to set a limit to his excesses. Howshould he have one? His father was one of a troupe of Ephesianpantomimists, and his mother a golden-haired Cyprian dancer. But heknows every corner of Alexandria--and then, what a memory! What an actorhe would have made! Without even a change of dress, merely by a grimace, he at once becomes an old man, an idiot, or a philosopher. " "And what a genius for intrigue!" Annianus went on enthusiastically. "As soon as he saw the portrait of Korinna he knew that he had seen herdouble among the Christians on the other side of the lake. This morninghe tracked her out, and now she is caught in the snare. And how sharp ofhim to make Dorothea bring her here!" "I told him to do that, and use the name of Bishop Demetrius, " observedthe Magian. "She would not have come with a stranger, and Dorothea mustbe known to her in the meetings of their congregation. " CHAPTER IX. While this conversation was taking place, Melissa and her companion hadreached the shore of the lake, the large inland sea which washed thesouthern side of the city and afforded anchorage for the Nile-boats. The ferry-boat which would convey them to the gardens of Polybius startedfrom the Agathodaemon Canal, an enlarged branch of the Nile, whichconnected the lake with the royal harbor and the Mediterranean; they had, therefore, to walk some distance along the shore. The setting sun shot slanting rays on the glittering surface of theglassy waters in which the numberless masts of the Nile-boats weremirrored. Vessels large and small, with white or gayly-painted lateen sailsgleaming in the evening glow, large galleys, light skiffs, and restless, skimming pleasure-boats, were flitting to and fro; and among them, likeloaded wagons among chariots and horsemen, the low corn-barges scarcelyseemed to move, piled as they were with pyramids of straw and grain ashigh as a house. The bustle on the quay was less conspicuous than usual, for all who werefree to follow their curiosity had gone into the city. There were, however, many slaves, and Caesar's visit no more affected their day'stoil than it did the course of the sun. To-day, as every other day, theyhad to pack and unload; and though few ships were sailing, numbers werearriving from the south, and throwing out the landing-bridges whichconnected them with the shore. The number of pleasure-boats, on the other hand, was greater than usual;for business was suspended, and many who hated the crowd found pleasurein rowing in their own boats. Others had come to see the imperial barge, which had been newly furnished up, and which was splendid enough toattract even the luxurious Alexandrians. Gold and ivory, purple sails, bronze and marble statues at the prow and stern, and in the littleshrines on the after-deck, combined in a gorgeous display, made all themore brilliant by the low sun, which added vividness to every hue. It was pleasant to linger on the strand at this hour. Spreadingsycamores and plumed palms cast a pleasant shade; the heat of the day hadabated, and a light air, which always blew in from the lake, fannedMelissa's brow. There was no crushing mob, and no dust came up from thewell-watered roadway, and yet the girl had lost her cheerful looks, inspite of the success of her bold venture; and Andreas walked by her side, silent and ill-pleased. She could not understand him; for, as long as she could remember, hisgrave looks had always brightened at anything that had brought gladnessto her or to her mother. Besides, her success with the Roman would beto the advantage of Diodoros, and the freedman was devoted to him. Every now and then she perceived that his eye rested on her with acompassionate expression, and when she inquired whether he were anxiousabout the sufferer, he gave her some evasive answer, quite unlike hisusual decisive speech. This added to her alarm. At last hisdissatisfied and unsatisfactory replies vexed the usually patient girl, and she told him so; for she could not suspect how painfully her triumphin her hasty deed jarred on her truth-loving friend. He knew that it wasnot to the great Galenus, but to the wealthy Serenus Samonicus, that shehad spoken; for the physician's noble and thoughtful features werefamiliar to him from medals, statues, and busts. He had seen Samonicus, too, at Antioch, and held his medical lore, as expressed in verse, verycheap. How worthless would this man's help be! In spite of his promise, Diodoros would after all have to be conveyed to the Serapeum; and yetAndreas could not bear to crush his darling's hopes. He had hitherto known her as a patient, dutiful child; to-day he had seenwith what unhesitating determination she could carry out a purpose; andhe feared that, if he told her the truth, she would at once make her wayinto Caesar's quarters, in defiance of every obstacle, to crave theassistance of the true Galen. He must leave her in error, and yet hecould not bear to do so, for there was no art in which he was so inexpertas that of deceit. How hard it was to find the right answer, when sheasked him whether he did not hope everything from the great physician'sintervention, or when she inquired what were the works to which Galenowed his chief fame! As they came near to the landing-stage whence the ferry started, shewanted to know how old he should suppose the Roman leech to be; and againhe avoided answering, for Galen was above eighty, and Serenus scarcelyseventy. She looked up at him with large, mournful eyes, saying, "Have I offendedyou, or is there something you are concealing from me?" "What could you do to offend me?" he replied; "life is full of sorrows, my child. You must learn to have patience. " "Patience!" echoed Melissa, sadly. "That is the only knowledge I haveever mastered. When my father is more sullen than you are, for a week ata time, I scarcely heed it. But when you look like that, Andreas, it isnot without cause, and that is why I am anxious. " "One we love is very sick, child, " he said, soothingly; but she was notto be put off so, and exclaimed with conviction: "No, no, it is not that. We have learned nothing fresh about Diodoro--and you were ready enough to answer me when we came away from theChristian's house. Nothing but good has happened to us since, and yetyou look as if the locusts had come down on your garden. " They had reached a spot on the shore where a ship was being unloaded ofits cargo of granite blocks from Syene. Black and brown slaves weredragging them to land. An old blind man was piping a dismal tune on asmall reed flute to encourage them in their work, while two men of fairerhue, whose burden had been too heavy for them, had let the end of thecolumn they were carrying sink on the ground, and were being mercilesslyflogged by the overseer to make them once more attempt the impossible. Andreas had watched the scene; a surge of fury had brought the blood tohis face, and, stirred by great and genuine emotion, he broke out: "There--there you see the locusts which destroy my garden--the hail whichruins my crops! It falls on all that bears the name of humanity--on meand you. Happy, girl? None of us can ever be happy till the Kingdomshall arise for which the fullness of the time is come. " "But they dropped the column; I saw them myself, " urged Melissa. "Did you, indeed?" said Andreas. "Well, well, the whip, no doubt, canrevive exhausted powers. And that is how you look upon such deeds!--you, who would not crush a worm in the garden, think this is right and just!" It suddenly struck Melissa that Andreas, too, had once been a slave, andthe feeling that she had hurt him grieved her to the heart. She hadoften heard him speak sternly and gravely, but never in scorn as he didnow, and that, too, distressed her; and as she could not think of theright thing to say in atonement for the wrong she had done, she couldonly look up with tearful entreaty and murmur, "Forgive me!" "I have nothing to forgive, " he replied in an altered tone. "You havegrown up among the unjust who are now in power. How should you see moreclearly than they, who all walk in darkness? But if the light should beshown to you by one to whom it hath been revealed, it would not beextinguished again. --Does it not seem a beautiful thing to you to liveamong none but brethren and sisters, instead of among oppressors andtheir scourged victims; or is there no place in a woman's soul for theholy wrath that came upon Moses the Hebrew? But who would ever havespoken his great name to you?" Melissa was about to interrupt his vehement speech, for, in a town wherethere were so many Jews, alike among the citizens and the slaves, evenshe had heard that Moses had been their lawgiver; but he prevented her, by adding hastily: "This only, child, I would have you remember--for hereis the ferry--the worst ills that man ever inflicts on his fellow-man arethe outcome of self-interest; and, of all the good he may do, the best isthe result of his achieving self-forgetfulness to secure the happinessand welfare of others. " He said no more, for the ferry-boat was about to put off, and they had totake their places as quickly as possible. The large flat barge was almost unoccupied; for the multitude stilllingered in the town, and more than one seat was empty for the wearygirl to rest on. Andreas paced to and fro, for he was restless; butwhen Melissa beckoned to him he came close to her, and, while he leanedagainst the little cabin, received her assurance that she now quiteunderstood his desire to see all slaves made free. He, if any one, must know what the feelings of those unhappy creatures were. "Do I not know!" he exclaimed, with a shake of the head. Then, glancinground at the few persons who were sitting at the other end of the boat, he went on sadly: "To know that, a man must himself have been brandedwith the marks of his humiliation. " He showed her his arm, which wasusually hidden by the long sleeve of his tunic, and Melissa exclaimed insorrowful surprise: "But you were free-born! and none of our slaves bearsuch a brand. You must have fallen into the hands of Syrian pirates. " He nodded, and added, "I and my father. " "But he, " the girl eagerly put in, "was a great man. " "Till Fate overtook him, " Andreas said. Melissa's tearful eyes showed the warm sympathy she felt, as she asked: "But how could it have happened that you were not ransomed by yourrelations? Your father was, no doubt, a Roman citizen; and the law--" "The law forbids that such a one should be sold into slavery, " Andreasbroke in, "and yet the authorities of Rome left him in misery--left--" At this, her large, gentle eyes flashed with indignation, and, stirred tothe depths of her nature, she exclaimed: "How was such horrible injustice possible? Oh, let me hear. You knowhow truly I love you, and no one can hear you. " The wind had risen, the waves splashed noisily against the broad boat, and the song of the slaves, as they plied their oars, would have drowneda stronger voice than the freedman's; so he sat down by her side to doher bidding. And the tale he had to tell was sad indeed. His father had been of knightly rank, and in the reign of Marcus Aureliushe had been in the service of Avidius Cassius, his fellow-countryman, theillustrious governor of Asia as 'procurator ab epistolis'. As holdingthis high post, he found himself involved in the conspiracy of Avidiusagainst the emperor. After the assassination of his patron, who hadalready been proclaimed emperor by the troops, Andreas's father had beendeprived of his offices, his citizenship, and his honors; his possessionswere confiscated, and he was exiled to the island of Anaphe. It was toCaesar's clemency that he owed his life. On their voyage into exile the father and son fell into the hands ofSyrian pirates, and were sold in the slave-market of Alexandria to twoseparate masters. Andreas was bought by a tavern-keeper; the procurator, whose name as a slave was Smaragdus, by the father of Polybius; and thisworthy man soon learned to value his servant so highly, that he purchasedthe son also, and restored him to his father. Thus they were once moreunited. Every attempt of the man who had once held so proud a position to gethis release, by an act of the senate, proved vain. It was with a brokenheart and enfeebled health that he did his duty to his master and to hisonly child. He pined in torments of melancholy, till Christianity openednew happiness to him, and revived hope brought him back from the verybrink of despair; and, even as a slave, he found the highest of alldignities--that, namely, which a Christian derives from his faith. At this point Melissa interrupted her friend's narrative, exclaiming, asshe pointed across the waters: "There! there! look! In that boat--I am sure that is Alexander! And heis making for the town. " Andreas started up, and after convincing himself that she was indeedright, for the youth himself had recognized his sister, who waved herhand to him, he wrathfully exclaimed: "Madman!" and by intelligible and commanding signs he ordered thereckless young artist to turn his little skiff, and follow in the wakeof the ferry-boat, which was by this time nearing land. But Alexander signaled a negative, and, after gayly blowing a kiss toMelissa, plied his oars again with as much speed and energy as though hewere rowing for a wager. How swiftly and steadily the keel of his littleboat cut through the crisply foaming waves on which it rose and fell!The daring youth did not lack strength, that was certain, and the couplewho watched him with so much uneasiness soon understood that he wasstriving to overtake another and larger bark which was at some distancein front of him. It was being pulled by slaves, whose stalwart arms madethe pace a good one, and under the linen awning which shaded the middlepart of it two women were seated. The rays of the sun, whose fiery globe was now sinking behind the palm-groves on the western shore, flooded the sky with ruby light, and tingedthe white robes of these women, the light canopy over their heads, andthe whole face of the lake, with a rosy hue; but neither Andreas nor hiscompanion heeded the glorious farewell of departing day. Melissa pointed out to her friend the strangeness of her brother'sattire, and the hood which, in the evening light, seemed to be borderedwith gold. He had on, in fact, a Gallic mantle, such as that which hadgained Caesar the nickname of Caracalla, and there was in this disguisesomething to reassure them; for, if Alexander pulled the hood low enough, it would hide the greater part of his face, and make it difficult torecognize him. Whence he had procured this garment was not hard todivine, for imperial servants had distributed them in numbers among thecrowd. Caesar was anxious to bring them into fashion, and it mightsafely be expected that those Alexandrians who had held out their handsto accept them would appear in them on the morrow, as no order requiredthat they should be worn. Alexander could not do better than wear one, if only by such means he could escape Zminis and his men. But who were the women he was pursuing? Before Melissa could ask thequestion, Andreas pointed to the foremost boat, and said: "Those are Christian women, and the bark they are in belongs to Zeno, thebrother of Seleukus and of the high-priest of Serapis. That is hislanding-creek. He lives with his family, and those of the faith to whomhe affords refuge, in the long, white house you can just see there amongthe palm-trees. Those vineyards, too, are his. If I am not mistaken, one of the ladies in that boat is his daughter, Agatha. " "But what can Alexander want of two Christian women?" asked Melissa. Andreas fired up, and a vein started on his high forehead as he retortedangrily: "What should he not want! He and those who are like him--the blind--think nothing so precious as what satisfies the eye. --There! thebrightness has vanished which turned the lake and the shore to gold. Such is beauty!--a vain show, which only glitters to disappear, and isto fools, nevertheless, the supreme object of adoration!" "Then, is Zeno's daughter fair?" asked the girl. "She is said to be, " replied the other; and after a moment's pause headded: "Yes, Agatha is a rarely accomplished woman; but I know betterthings of her than that. It stirs my gall to think that her sacredpurity can arouse unholy thoughts. I love your brother dearly; foryour mother's sake I can forgive him much; but if he tries to ensnareAgatha--" "Have no fear, " said Melissa, interrupting his wrathful speech. "Alexander is indeed a butterfly, fluttering from flower to flower, and apt to be frivolous over serious matters, but at this moment he isenslaved by a vision--that of a dead girl; and only last night, I believe, he pledged himself to Ino, the pretty daughter of our neighborSkopas. Beauty is to him the highest thing in life; and how should it beotherwise, for he is an artist! For the sake of beauty he defies everydanger. If you saw rightly, he is no doubt in pursuit of Zeno'sdaughter, but most likely not to pay court to her, but for some otherseason. " "No praiseworthy reason, you may be sure, " said Andreas. "Here we are. Now take your kerchief out of the basket. It is damp and cool aftersundown, especially over there where I am draining the bog. The land weare reclaiming by this means will bring your future husband a fine incomesome day. " They disembarked, and ere long reached the little haven belonging toPolybius's estate. There were boats moored there, large and small, andAndreas hailed the man who kept them, and who sat eating his supper, toask him whether he had unmoored the green skiff for Alexander. At this the old fellow laughed, and said: "The jolly painter and hisfriend, the sculptor, met Zeno's daughter just as she was getting intoher boat with Mariamne. Down they came, running as if they had gone mad. The girl must have turned their heads. My lord Alexander would have itthat he had seen the spirit of one who was dead, and he would gladly givehis life to see her once again. " It was now dark, or it would have alarmed Melissa to see the ominousgravity with which Andreas listened to this tale; but she herself wassufficiently startled, for she knew her brother well, and that no risk, however great, would stop him if his artistic fancy were fired. He, whomshe had believed to be in safety, had gone straight into the hands of thepursuers; and with him caution and reflection were flown to the windswhen passion held sway. She had hoped that her friend Ino had at lastcaptured the flutterer, and that he would begin to live a settled lifewith her, as master of a house of his own; and now, for a pretty face, hehad thrown everything to the winds, even the duty of self-preservation. Andreas had good reason to be angry, and he spoke no more till theyreached their destination, a country house of handsome and importantaspect. No father could have received his future daughter more heartily than didold Polybius. The fiend gout racked his big toes, stabbing, burning, andnipping them. The slightest movement was torture, and yet he held outhis arms to her for a loving embrace, and, though it made him shut hiseyes and groan, he drew her pretty head down, and kissed her cheeks andhair. He was now a heavy man, of almost shapeless stoutness, but in hisyouth he must have resembled his handsome son. Silvery locks flowedround his well-formed head, but a habit of drinking wine, which, in spiteof the gout, he could not bring himself to give up, had flushed hisnaturally good features, and tinged them of a coppery red, whichcontrasted strangely with his snowy hair and beard. But a kind heart, benevolence, and a love of good living, beamed in every look. His heavy limbs moved but slowly, and if ever full lips deserved to becalled sensual, they were those of this man, who was a priest of twodivinities. How well his household understood the art of catering for his love ofhigh living, was evident in the meal which was served soon afterMelissa's arrival, and to eat which the old man made her reclineon the couch by his side. Andreas also shared the supper; and not the attendant slaves only, butDame Praxilla, the sister of their host, whose house she managed, paidhim particular honor. She was a widow and childless, and, even duringthe lifetime of Diodoros's mother, she had given her heart, no longeryoung, to the freedman, without finding her love returned or evenobserved. For his sake she would have become a Christian, though sheregarded herself as so indispensable to her brother that she had rarelyleft him to hold intercourse with other Christians. Nor did Andreasencourage her; he doubted her vocation. Whatever happened in the house, the excitable woman made it her own concern; and, although she had knownMelissa from childhood, and was as fond of her as she could be of thechild of "strangers, " the news that Diodoros was to marry the gem-cutter's daughter was displeasing to her. A second woman in the housemight interfere with her supremacy; and, as an excuse for her annoyance, she had represented to her brother that Diodoros might look higher fora wife. Agatha, the beautiful daughter of their rich Christian neighborZeno, was the right bride for the boy. But Polybius had rated her sharply, declaring that he hoped for nosweeter daughter than Melissa, who was quite pretty enough, and in whoseveins as pure Macedonian blood flowed as in his own. His son need lookfor no wealth, he added with a laugh, since he would some day inherit hisaunt's. In fact, Praxilla owned a fine fortune, increasing daily under the careof Andreas, and she replied: "If the young couple behave so well that I do not rather choose to bestowmy pittance on worthier heirs. " But the implied threat had not disturbed Polybius, for he knew hissister's ways. The shriveled, irritable old lady often spoke words hardto be forgiven, but she had not a bad heart; and when she learned thatDiodoros was in danger, she felt only how much she loved him, and herproposal to go to the town next morning to nurse him was sincerely meant. But when her brother retorted: "Go, by all means; I do not prevent you!"she started up, exclaiming: "And you, and your aches and pains! How you get on when once my back isturned, we know by experience. My presence alone is medicine to you. ""And a bitter dose it is very often, " replied the old man, with a laugh;but Praxilla promptly retorted: "Like all effectual remedies. There isyour ingratitude again!" The last words were accompanied by a whimper, so Polybius, who could notbear to see any but cheerful faces, raised his cup and drank her healthwith kindly words. Then refilling the tankard, he poured a libation, andwas about to empty it to Melissa's health, but Praxilla's lean frame wasstanding by his side as quickly as though a serpent had stung her. Shewas drawing a stick of asparagus between her teeth, but she hastilydropped it on her plate, and with both hands snatched the cup from herbrother, exclaiming: "It is the fourth; and if I allow you to empty it, you are a dead man!" "Death is not so swift, " replied Polybius, signing to a slave to bringhim back the cup. But he drank only half of it, and, at his sister'spathetic entreaties, had more water mixed with the wine. And whilePraxilla carefully prepared his crayfish--for gout had crippled even hisfingers--he beckoned to his white-haired body-slave, and with a cunningsmile made him add more wine to the washy fluid. He fixed his twinklingglance on Melissa, to invite her sympathy in his successful trick, buther appearance startled him. How pale the child was--how dejected andweary her sweet face, with the usually bright, expressive eyes! It needed not the intuition of his kind heart to tell him that she wascompletely exhausted, and he desired his sister to take her away to bed. But Melissa was already sound asleep, and Praxilla would not wake her. She gently placed a pillow under her head, laid her feet easily on thecouch, and covered them with a wrap. Polybius feasted his eyes on thefair sleeper; and, indeed, nothing purer and more tender can be imaginedthan the girl's face as she lay in dreamless slumber. The conversation was now carried on in subdued tones, so as not todisturb her, and Andreas completed the history of the day by informingthem that Melissa had, by mistake, engaged the assistance not of thegreat Galen but of another Roman practiced in the healing art, but ofless illustrious proficiency. He must, therefore, still have Diodorosconveyed to the Serapeum, and this could be done very easily in themorning, before the populace should again besiege the temple. He mustforthwith go back to make the necessary arrangements. Praxilla whisperedtenderly: "Devoted man that you are, you do not even get your night's rest. " ButAndreas turned away to discuss some further matters with Polybius; and, in spite of pain, the old man could express his views clearly andintelligently. At last he took his leave; and now Praxilla had to direct the slaves whowere to carry her brother to bed. She carefully arranged the cushions onhis couch, and gave him his medicine and night-draught. Then shereturned to Melissa, and the sight of the sleeping girl touched herheart. She stood gazing at her for some time in silence, and then bentover her to wake her with a kiss. She had at last made up her mind toregard the gem-cutter's daughter as her niece, so, determined to treather as a child of her own, she called Melissa by name. This awoke the sleeper, and when she had realized that she was still inPolybius's eating-room, she asked for Andreas. "He has gone back to the town, my child, " replied Praxilla. "He wasanxious about your betrothed. " "Is he worse, then?" asked Melissa, in alarm. "No, no, " said the widow, soothingly. "It is only--I assure you we have heard nothing new--" "But what then?" Melissa inquired. "The great Galen is to see himearly to-morrow. " Praxilla tried to divert her thoughts. But as thegirl would take no answer to her declaration that Galen himself hadpromised to see Diodoros, Praxilla, who was little used to self-command, and who was offended by her persistency, betrayed the fact that Melissahad spoken to the wrong man, and that Andreas was gone to remove Diodorosto the Serapeum. At this, Melissa suddenly understood why Andreas had not rejoiced withher, and at the same time she said to herself that her lover must on noaccount be exposed to so great a danger without her presence. She mustlend her aid in transporting him to the Serapeum; and when she firmlyexpressed her views to the widow, Praxilla was shocked, and sincerelyrepented of having lost her self-control. It was far too late, and whenthe housekeeper came into the room and gladly volunteered to accompanyMelissa to the town, Praxilla threatened to rouse her brother, that hemight insist on their remaining at home; but at last she relented, forthe girl, she saw, would take her own way against any opposition. The housekeeper had been nurse to Diodoros, and had been longing to helpin tending him. When she left the house with Melissa, her eyes weremoist with tears of joy and thankfulness. CHAPTER X. The Nubian boat-keeper and his boy had soon ferried them across the lake. Melissa and her companion then turned off from the shore into a streetwhich must surely lead into that where the Christians dwelt. Still, evenas she went on, she began to be doubtful whether she had taken the rightone; and when she came out by a small temple, which she certainly had notseen before, she knew not which way to go, for the streets here crossedeach other in a perfect labyrinth, and she was soon obliged to confess toher companion that she had lost her road. In the morning she had trustedherself to Andreas's knowledge of the town, and while talking eagerly tohim had paid no heed to anything else. What was to be done? She stood meditating; and then she remembered thespot where she had seen Caesar drive past. This she thought she couldcertainly recognize, and from thence make her way to the street shesought. It was quite easy to find the street of Hermes, for the noise of therevelers, who were to-night even more numerous than usual in this busyhighway, could be heard at a considerable distance. They must follow itsguidance till they should come to the little temple of Aphrodite; andthat was a bold enterprise, for the crowd of men who haunted the spot atthis hour might possibly hinder and annoy two unescorted women. However, the elder woman was sturdy and determined, and sixty years of age; whileMelissa feared nothing, and thought herself sufficiently protected whenshe had arranged her kerchief so as to hide her face from curious eyes. As she made her way to the wide street with a throbbing heart, but quiteresolved to find the house she sought at any cost, she heard men's voiceson a side street; however, she paid no heed to them, for how, indeed, could she guess that what they were saying could nearly concern her? The conversation was between a woman and a man in the white robe of aChristian priest. They were standing at the door of a large house; andclose to the wall, in the shadow of the porch of a building opposite, stood a youth, his hair covered by the hood of a long caracalla, listening with breathless attention. This was Alexander. He had been standing here for some time already, waiting for the returnof Agatha, the fair Christian whom he had followed across the lake, andwho had vanished into that house under the guidance of a deaconess. Thedoor had not long closed on them when several men had also been admitted, whom he could not distinguish in the darkness, for the street was narrowand the moon still low. It was sheer folly--and yet he fancied that one of them was his father, for his deep, loud voice was precisely like that of Heron; and, what waseven more strange, that of the man who answered him seemed to proceedfrom his brother Philip. But, at such an hour, he could more easily havesupposed them to be on the top of Mount Etna than in this quarter of thetown. The impatient painter was very tired of waiting, so, seating himself on afeeding-manger for asses which stood in front of the adjoining house, hepresently fell asleep. He was tired from the sleepless night he had lastspent, and when he opened his eyes once more and looked down the streetinto which the moon was now shining, he did not know how long he had beenslumbering. Perhaps the damsel he wanted to see had already left thehouse, and he must see her again, cost him what it might; for she was soamazingly like the dead Korinna whom he had painted, that he could notshake off the notion that perhaps--for, after Serapion's discourse, itseemed quite likely--perhaps he had seen the spirit of the departed girl. He had had some difficulty in persuading Glaukias, who had comeacross the lake with him, to allow him to follow up the fair visionunaccompanied; and his entreaties and prohibitions would probably alikehave proved vain, but that Glaukias held taken it into his head to showhis latest work, which a slave was carrying, to some friends over a jarof wine. It was a caricature of Caesar, whom he had seen at the KanopicGate, modeled while he was in the house of Polybius, with a few happytouches. When Alexander woke, he crept into the shadow of the porch opposite tothe house into which Korinna's double had disappeared, and he now had nolack of entertainment. A man came out of the tall white house and lookedinto the street, and the moonlight enabled the artist to see all thattook place. The tall youth who had come to the door wore the robe of a Christianpriest. Still, it struck Alexander that he was too young for such acalling; and he soon detected that he was certainly not what he seemed, but that there was some treachery in the wind; for no sooner had a womanjoined him, whom he evidently expected, than she blamed him for his wantof caution. To this he laughingly replied that he was too hot in hisdisguise, and, pulling out a false beard, he showed it to the woman, whowas dressed as a Christian deaconess, exclaiming, "That will do it!" He went on to tell her, in a quick, low tone, much of which escaped thelistener, that Serapion had dared much that day, and that the performancehad ended badly, for that the Christian girl he had so cleverly persuadedto come from the other side of the lake had taken fright, and hadinsisted on knowing where she was. At this the deaconess seemed somewhat dismayed, and poured out endlessquestions in a low voice. He, however, cast all the blame on thephilosopher, whom his master had got hold of the day before. Then, as the woman desired more particular information, he briefly told herthe story. The fair Agatha, he said, after being invited by him, at noon, in thename of Bishop Demetrius, to a meeting that evening, had reached theferryhouse at about sunset. She had been told that many things ofimmediate importance were to be announced to the maidens of the Christiancongregation; more especially, a discussion was to be held as to theorder issued by the prefect for their taking part in a procession inCaesar's honor when he should quit Alexandria. Old Dorothea had met thegirl at the ferry-house, and had brought her hither. The woman who hadattended her across the lake was certainly none of the wisest, forDorothea had easily persuaded her to remain in her house during themeeting. "Once there, " the sham priest went on, "the girl's waiting-woman musthave had some dose in wine or sirup and water, for she is fast asleep atthis moment in the ferry-house, or wherever Dorothea took her, as shecould not be allowed to wake under Dorothea's roof. "Thus every one was out of the way who could make any mischief; and whenthe Syrian, dressed as a Christian priest, had explained to Agatha whatthe patriarch required of his maidens, I led her on to the stage, onwhich the spectators were to see the ghosts through a small opening. "The Syrian had desired her to put up so many and such prayers for thecongregation in its peril from Caesar; and, by Aphrodite! she was asdocile as a lamb. She fell on her knees, and with hands and eyes toheaven entreated her god. But hark! "Did you hear anything? Something is stirring within. Well, I havenearly done. "The philosopher was to see her thus, and when he had gazed at her asif bewitched for some little time through the small window, he suddenlycried out, 'Korinna! Korinna!' and all sorts of nonsense, althoughSerapion had strictly forbidden him to utter a sound. Of course, thecurtain instantly dropped. But Agatha had heard him call, and in a greatfright she wanted to know where she was, and asked to go home. --Serapionwas really grand. You should have heard how the fox soothed the dove, and at the same time whispered to me what you now are to do!" "I?" said the woman, with some annoyance. "If he thinks that I willrisk my good name in the congregation for the sake of his long beard--" "Just be quiet, " said Castor, in a pacifying tone. "The master's beardhas nothing to do with the case, but something much more substantial. Ten solidi, full weight, shall be yours if you will take Agatha home withyou, or safe across the lake again, and pretend to have saved her frommystics or magicians who have decoyed her to some evil end. She knowsyou as a Christian deaconess, and will go with you at once. If yourestore her to her father, he is rich, and will not send you empty away. Tell him that you heard her voice out in the street, and with the help ofa worthy old man--that am I--rescued her from any peril you may invent. If he asks you where the heroic deed was done, name any house you please, only not this. Your best plan is to lay it all on the shoulders ofHananja, the thaumaturgist; we have owed him a grudge this many a day. However, I was not to teach you any lesson, for your wits are at least amatch for ours. " "Flattery will not win me, " the woman broke in. "Where is the gold?" Castor handed her the solidi wrapped in a papyrus leaf, and then added: "Stay one moment! I must remove this white robe. The girl must on noaccount recognize me. I am going to force my way into the house withyou--you found me in the street, an old man, a total stranger, andappealed to me for help. No harm is done, nothing lost but Dorothea'scredit among the Christians. We may have to get her safe out of thetown. I must escort you and Agatha, for nothing unpleasant must happento her on the way home. The master is imperative on that point, and somuch beauty will certainly not get through the crowded streets withoutremark. And for my part, I, of course, am thinking of yours. " Here Castor laughed aloud, and rolled the white robe into a bundle. Alexander peeped out of his nook and shook his head in amazement, forthe supple youth, who a moment before stood stalwart and upright, hadassumed, with a bent attitude and a long, white beard hastily placed onhis chin, the aspect of a weary, poor old man. "I will give you a lesson!" muttered Alexander to himself, and he shookhis fist at the intriguing rascal as he vanished into the house with thefalse deaconess. So Serapion was a cheat! And the supposed ghost of Korinna was aChristian maiden who was being shamefully deluded. But he would keepwatch over her, and bring that laughing villain to account. The firstaim of his life was not to lose sight of Agatha. His whole happiness, hefelt, depended on that. The gods had, as it were, raised her from thedead for him; in her, everything that he most admired was united; she wasthe embodiment of everything he cared for and prized; every feeling sankinto the shade beside the one desire to make her his. She was, at thismoment, the universe to him; and all else--the pursuers at his heels, hisfather, his sister, pretty Ino, to whom he had vowed his love only thenight before--had ceased to exist for him. Possessed wholly by the thought of her, he never took his eyes off thedoor opposite; and when at last the maiden came out with the deaconess, whom she called Elizabeth, and with Castor, Alexander followed the ill-matched trio; and he had to be brisk, for at first they hurried throughthe streets as though they feared to be overtaken. He carefully keptclose to the houses on the shady side, and when they presently stopped, so did he. The deaconess inquired of Agatha whither she would be taken. But whenthe girl replied that she must go back to her own boat, waiting at theferry, and return home, the deaconess represented that this wasimpossible by reason of the drunken seamen, who at this hour made thestrand unsafe; she could only advise Agatha to come home with her andremain till daybreak. "This kind old man, " and she pointed to Castor, "would no doubt go and tell the oarsmen that they were not to be uneasyat her absence. " The two women stood talking in the broad moonlight, and the pale beamsfell on Agatha's beautiful unveiled features, giving them that unearthly, corpse-like whiteness which Alexander had tried to represent in hispicture of Korinna. Again the thought that she was risen from the deadsent a chill through his blood--that she would make him follow her, perhaps to the tomb she had quitted. He cared not! If his senses hadcheated him--if, --in spite of what he had heard, that pale, unspeakablylovely image were indeed a lamia, a goblin shape from Hecate's darkabode, yet would he follow wherever she might lead, as to a festival, only to be with her. Agatha thanked the deaconess, and as she spoke raised her eyes to thewoman's face; and they were two large, dark orbs sparkling through tears, and as unlike as possible to the eyes which a ghost might snatch fromtheir sockets to fling like balls or stones in the face of a pursuer. Oh, if only those eyes might look into his own as warmly and gratefullyas they now gazed into the face of that treacherous woman! He had a hard struggle with himself to subdue the impulse to put an end, now and here, to the fiendish tricks which guile was playing on thepurest innocence; but the street was deserted, and if he had to strugglewith the bent old man, whose powerful and supple limbs he had alreadyseen, and if the villain should plant a knife in his ribs--for as awrestler he felt himself his match--Agatha would be bereft of a protectorand wholly in the deceiver's power. This, at any rate, must not be, and he even controlled himself when heheard the music of her words, and saw her grasp the hand of the pretendedgraybeard, who, with an assumption of paternal kindness, dared to kissher hair, and then helped her to draw her kerchief over her face. Thestreet of Hermes, he explained, where the deaconess dwelt, was full ofpeople, and the divine gift of beauty, wherewith Heaven had blessed her, would attract the baser kind, as a flame attracts bats and moths. Thehypocrite's voice was full of unction; the deaconess spoke with piousgravity. He could see that she was a woman of middle age, and he askedhimself with rising fury whether the gods were not guilty who had lentmean wretches like these such winning graces as to enable them to laytraps for the guileless? For, in fact, the woman's face was well-favored, gentle, and attractive. Alexander never took his gaze off Agatha, and his artist-eye reveled inher elastic step and her slender, shapely form. Above all, he wasbewitched by the way her head was set, with a little forward bend;and as long as the way led through the silent lanes he was never wearyof comparing her with lovely images-with a poppy, whose flower bows thestem; with a willow, whose head leans over the water; with the huntressArtemis, who, chasing in the moonlight, bends to mark the game. Thus, unwearied and unseen, he had followed them as far as the street ofHermes; there his task became more difficult, for the road was swarmingwith people. The older men were walking in groups of five or six, goingto or coming from some evening assembly, and talking as they walked; orpriests and temple servants on their way home, tired from night servicesand ceremonies; but the greater number were young men and boys, somewearing wreaths, and all more or less intoxicated, with street-wencheson the lookout for a companion or surrounded by suitors, and trying toattract a favorite or dismiss the less fortunate. The flare of the torches which illuminated the street was mirrored ineager eyes glowing with wine and passion, and in the glittering weaponsof the Roman soldiery. Most of these were attached to Caesar's train. As in the field, so in the peaceful town, they aimed at conquest, and many a Greek sulkily resigned his claims to some fickle beauty infavor of an irresistible tribune or centurion. Where the courteousAlexandrians made way, they pushed in or thrust aside whatever came intheir path, securely confident of being Caesar's favorite protectors, and unassailable while he was near. Their coarse, barbaric tones shookthe air, and reduced the Greeks to silence; for, even in his drunken andmost reckless moods, the Greek never lost his subtle refinement. Thewarriors rarely met a friendly glance from the eye of a native; still, the gold of these lavish revelers was as welcome to the women as thatof a fellow-countryman. The blaze of light shone, too, on many a fray, such as flared up in aninstant whenever Greek and Roman came into contact. The lictors andtownwatch could generally succeed in parting the combatants, for theorders of the authorities were that they should in every case side withthe Romans. The shouts and squabbling of men, the laughing and singing of women, mingled with the word of command. Flutes and lyres, cymbals and drums, were heard from the trellised tavern arbors and cook-shops along the way;and from the little temple to Aphrodite, where Melissa had promised tomeet the Roman physician next morning, came the laughter and song ofunbridled lovers. As a rule, the Kanopic Way was the busiest and gayeststreet in the town; but on this night the street of Hermes had been themost popular, for it led to the Serapeum, where Caesar was lodged; andfrom the temple poured a tide of pleasure-seekers, mingling with theflood of humanity which streamed on to catch a glimpse of imperialsplendor, or to look at the troops encamped on the space in front of theSerapeum. The whole street was like a crowded fair; and Alexander hadseveral times to follow Agatha and her escort out into the roadway, quitting the shelter of the arcade, to escape a party of rioters or theimpertinent addresses of strangers. The sham old man, however, was so clever at making way for the damsel, whose face and form were effectually screened by her kerchief from thepassers-by, that Alexander had no opportunity for offering her his aid, or proving his devotion by some gallant act. That it was his duty tosave her from the perils of spending a whole night under the protectionof this venal deceiver and her worthless colleague, he had long sinceconvinced himself; still, the fear of bringing her into a more painfulposition by attracting the attention of the crowd if he were to attackher escort, kept him back. They had now stopped again under the colonnade, on the left-hand side ofthe road. Castor had taken the girl's hand, and, as he bade her good-night, promised, in emphatic tones, to be with her again very early andescort her to the lake. Agatha thanked him warmly. At this a storm ofrage blew Alexander's self-command to the four winds, and, before he knewwhat he was doing; he stood between the rascal and the Christian damsel, snatched their hands asunder, gripping Castor's wrist with his strongright hand, while he held Agatha's firmly in his left, and exclaimed: "You are being foully tricked, fair maid; the woman, even, is deceivingyou. This fellow is a base villain!" And, releasing the arm which Castor was desperately but vainly trying tofree from his clutch, he snatched off the false beard. Agatha, who had also been endeavoring to escape from his grasp, gave ashriek of terror and indignation. The unmasked rogue, with a swiftmovement, snatched the hood of the caracalla off Alexander's head, flewat his throat with the fury and agility of a panther, and with muchpresence of mind called for help. And Castor was strong too whileAlexander tried to keep him off with his right hand, holding on to Agathawith his left, the shouts of the deaconess and her accomplice sooncollected a crowd. They were instantly surrounded by an inquisitive mob, laughing or scolding the combatants, and urging them to fight orbeseeching them to separate. But just as the artist had succeeded intwisting his opponent's wrist so effectually as to bring him to hisknees, a loud voice of malignant triumph, just behind him, exclaimed: "Now we have snared our scoffer! The fox should not stop to kill thehare when the hunters are at his heels!" "Zminis!" gasped Alexander. He understood in a flash that life andliberty were at stake. Like a stag hemmed in by dogs, he turned his head to this side and that, seeking a way of escape; and when he looked again where his antagonisthad stood, the spot was clear; the nimble rascal had taken to his heelsand vanished among the throng. But a pair of eyes met the painter'sgaze, which at once restored him to self-possession, and reminded himthat he must collect his wits and presence of mind. They were those ofhis sister Melissa, who, as she made her way onward with her companion, had recognized her brother's voice. In spite of the old woman's earnestadvice not to mix in the crowd, she had pushed her way through, and, asthe men-at-arms dispersed the mob, she came nearer to her favorite buttoo reckless brother. Alexander still held Agatha's hand. The poor girl herself, tremblingwith terror, did not know what had befallen her. Her venerable escortwas a young man--a liar. What was she to think of the deaconess, who washis confederate; what of this handsome youth who had unmasked thedeceiver, and saved her perhaps from some fearful fate? As in a thunder-storm flash follows flash, so, in this dreadful night, one horror had followed another, to bewilder the brain of a maiden whohad always lived a quiet life among good and quiet men and women. Andnow the guardians of the peace had laid hands on the man who had sobravely taken her part, and whose bright eyes had looked into her ownwith such truth and devotion. He was to be dragged to prison; so he, too, no doubt, was a criminal. At this thought she tried to release herhand, but he would not let it go; for the deaconess had come close toAgatha, and, in a tone of sanctimonious wrath, desired her to quit thisscene. What was she to do? Terrified and undecided, with deceit on one hand andon the other peril and perhaps disaster, she looked first at Elizabethand then at Alexander, who, in spite of the threats of the man-at-arms, gazed in turns at her and at the spot where his sister had stood. The lictors who were keeping off the mob had stopped Melissa too; butwhile Alexander had been gazing into Agatha's imploring eyes, feeling asthough all his blood had rushed to his heart and face, Melissa hadcontrived to creep up close to him. And again the sight of her gave himthe composure he so greatly needed. He knew, indeed, that the hand whichstill held Agatha's would in a moment be fettered, for Zminis had orderedhis slaves to bring fresh ropes and chains, since they had already founduse for those they had first brought out. It was to this circumstancealone that he owed it that he still was free. And, above all things, hemust warn Agatha against the deaconess, who would fain persuade her to gowith her. It struck his alert wit that Agatha would trust his sister rather thanhimself, whom the Egyptian had several times abused as a criminal; andseeing the old woman of Polybius's household making her way up toMelissa, out of breath, indeed, and with disordered hair, he felt lightdawn on his soul, for this worthy woman was a fresh instrument to hishand. She must know Agatha well, if the girl were indeed the daughter ofZeno. He lost not an instant. With swift decision, while Zminis and his menwere disputing as to whither they should conduct the traitor as soon asthe fetters were brought, he released the maiden's hand, placing it inMelissa's, and exclaiming: "This is my sister, the betrothed of Diodoros, Polybius's son--yourneighbor, if you are the daughter of Zeno. She will take care of you. "Agatha had at once recognized the old nurse, and when she confirmedAlexander's statement, and the Christian looked in Melissa's face, shesaw beyond the possibility of doubt an innocent woman, whose heart shemight fully trust. She threw her arm round Melissa, as if to lean on her, and the deaconessturned away with well-curbed wrath and vanished into an open door. All this had occupied but a very few minutes; and when Alexander saw thetwo beings he most loved in each other's embrace, and Agatha rescued fromthe deceiver and in safe keeping, he drew a deep breath, saying to hissister, as if relieved from a heavy burden: "Her name is Agatha, and to her, the image of the dead Korinna, my lifehenceforth is given. Tell her this, Melissa. " His impassioned glance sought that of the Christian; and when shereturned it, blushing, but with grateful candor, his mirthful featuresbeamed with the old reckless jollity, and he glanced again at the crowdabout him. What did he see there? Melissa observed that his whole face was suddenlylighted up; and when Zminis signed to the man who was making his way tothe spot holding up the rope, Alexander began to sing the first words ofa familiar song. In an instant it was taken up by several voices, andthen, as if from an echo, by the whole populace. It was the chant by which the lads in the Gymnasium of Timagetes werewont to call on each other for help when they had a fray with those ofthe Gymnasium of the Dioscuri, with whom they had a chronic feud. Alexander had caught sight of his friends Jason and Pappus, of thesculptor Glaukias, and of several other fellow-artists; they understoodthe appeal, and, before the night-watch could use the rope on theircaptive, the troop of young men had forced their way through the circleof armed men under the leadership of Glaukias, had surrounded Alexander, and run off with him in their midst, singing and shouting. "Follow him! Catch him! Stop him!--living or dead, bring him back!A price is on his head--a splendid price to any one who will take him!"cried the Egyptian, foaming with rage and setting the example. But theyouth of the town, many of whom knew the artist, and who were at alltimes ready to spoil sport for the sycophants and spies, crowded upbetween the fugitive and his pursuers and barred the way. The lictors and their underlings did indeed, at last, get through thesolid wall of shouting and scolding men and women; but by that time thetroop of artists had disappeared down a side street. ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: Force which had compelled every one to do as his neighborsIt is the passionate wish that gives rise to the belief