[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 11. 

CHAPTER XXX. 

Scarcely had Macrinus closed the door behind him, when Caracalla threwhimself exhausted on the throne, and ordered wine to brought. 

The gloomy gaze he bent upon the ground was not affected this time. The physician noted with anxiety how his master's breast heaved and hiseyelids quivered; but when he offered Caesar a soothing potion, he wavedhim away, and commanded him to cease from troubling him. 

For all that, he listened a little later to the legate, who broughtthe news that the youths of the city assembled on the race-coursewere beginning to be impatient. They were singing and applaudingboisterously, and the songs they so loudly insisted on having repeatedwould certainly not contain matter flattering to the Romans. 

"Leave them alone, " answered Caesar, roughly. "Every line is aimed at meand no other. But the condemned are always allowed their favorite mealbefore the last journey. The food they love is venomous satire. Letthem enjoy it to the full once more!--Is it far to Zminis's prison?"

The reply was in the negative; and as Caracalla exclaimed, "So much thebetter!" a significant smile played on his lips. 

The high-priest of Serapis had looked on in much distress of mind. He, as the head of the Museum, had set high hopes on the youth who had cometo such a terrible end. If Caesar should carry his threats intoexecution, there would be an end to that celebrated home of learningwhich, in his opinion, bore such noble fruits of study. And what couldCaracalla mean by his dark saying that the sport and mockery of thoseyouths below was their last meal? The worst might indeed be expectedfrom the fearful tyrant who was at once so deeply wounded and sogrievously offended; and the high-priest had already sent messengers--Greeks of good credit--to warn the insurgent youths in the stadium. But, as the chief minister of the divinity, he also esteemed it his duty, atany risk to himself, to warn the despot, whom he saw on the verge ofbeing carried away to deeds of unparalleled horror. He thought the timehad come, when Caracalla looked up from the brooding reverie into whichhe had again sunk, and with an ominous scowl asked Timotheus whether hiswife, under whose protection Melissa had been seen the day before, hadknown that the false-hearted girl had given herself to another man whileshe feigned love for him. 

The high-priest repelled the suspicion with his usual dignity, and wenton to adjure Caesar not to visit on an industrious and dutiful communitythe sins of a light-minded girl's base folly and falsehood. 

But Caracalla would not suffer him to finish; he wrathfully inquired whohad given him a right to force his advice on Caesar. 

On this Timotheus replied, with calm dignity:

"Your own noble words, great Caesar, when, to your honor be it spoken, you reminded the misguided skeptic of the true meaning of the old godsand of what is due to them. The god whom I serve, great Caesar, issecond to none: the heavens are his head, the ocean is his body, and theearth his feet; the sunshine is the light of his all-seeing eye, andeverything which stirs in the heart or brain of man is an emanation ofhis divine spirit. Thus he is the all-pervading soul of the universe, and a portion of that soul dwells in you, in me, in all of us. His poweris greater than any power on earth, and, though a well-grounded wrath andonly too just indignation urge you to exert the power lent you by him--"

"And I will exert it!" Caesar exclaimed with haughty rage. "It reachesfar. I need no help, not even that of your god!"

"That I know, " replied Timotheus. "And the god will let those fall intoyour hands who have sinned against your sacred majesty. Any punishment, even the severest, will be pleasing in his sight which you may inflict onthose guilty of high-treason, for you wear the purple as his gift and inhis name; those who insult you sin also against the god. I myself, withmy small power, will help to bring the criminals to justice. But when awhole population is accused, when it is beyond the power of human justiceto separate the innocent from the guilty, punishment is the prerogativeof the god. He will visit on this city the crimes it has committedagainst you; and I implore you, in the name of your noble and admirablemother--whom it has been my privilege to entertain under this roof, andwho in gratitude for the favors of Serapis--"

"And have I grudged sacrifices?" Caesar broke in. "I have done myutmost to win the graces of your god--and with what success? Everythingthat can most aggrieve the heart of man has befallen me here under hiseyes. I have as much reason to complain of him as to accuse thereprobate natives of your city. He, no doubt, knows how to be avenged;the three-headed monster at his feet does not look like a lap-dog. Why, he would despise me if I should leave the punishment of the criminals tohis tender mercies! Nay, I can do that for myself. Though you have seenme in many cases show mercy, it has always been for my mother's sake. You have done well to remind me of her. That lady--she is, I know, avotary of your god. But to me the Alexandrians have dared to violate thelaws of hospitality; to her they were cordial hosts. I will rememberthat in their favor. And if many escape unpunished, I would have thetraitors to know that they owe it to the hospitality shown to my motherby their parents, or perhaps by themselves. "

He was here interrupted by the arrival of Aristides, who entered ingreat haste and apparently pleased excitement. His spies had seized amalefactor who had affixed an epigram of malignant purport to the statueof Julia Domna in the Caesareum. The writer was a pupil of the Museum, and had been taken in the stadium, where he was boasting of his exploit. A spy, mingling with the crowd, had laid hands on him, and the captain ofthe watch had forthwith hurried to the Serapeum to boast of a successwhich might confirm him in his yet uncertain position. The rough sketchof the lines had been found on the culprit, and Aristides held thetablets on which they were written while Caracalla listened to hisreport. Aristides was breathless with eagerness, and Caesar, snatchingthe tablets impatiently from his hand, read the following lines:

"Wanton, I say, is this dam of irreconcilable brothers!""Mean you Jocasta?""Nay, worse--Julia, the wife of Severus. "

"The worst of all--but the last!" Caracalla snarled, as, turning pale, he laid the tablets down. But he almost instantly took them up again, and handing the malignant and lying effusion to the high-priest, heexclaimed, with a laugh:

"This seals the warrant! Here is my mother slandered, too! Now, the manwho sues for mercy condemns himself to death!" And, clinching his fist, he muttered, "And this, too, is from the Museum. "

Timotheus, meanwhile, had also read the lines. Even paler thanCaracalla, and fully aware that any further counsel would be thrown awayand only turn the emperor's wrath against himself, he expressed his angerat this calumny directed against the noblest of women, and by a boyhardly free from school!

But Caracalla furiously broke in:

"And woe to you if your god refuses me the only thing I crave in returnfor so many sacrifices--revenge, complete and sanguinary; atonement fromgreat and small alike!" But he interrupted himself with the exclamation:"He grants it! Now for the tool I need. "

The tool was ready--Zminis, the Egyptian, answering in every particularto the image which Caracalla had had in his mind of the instrument whomight execute his most bloodthirsty purpose. 

With hair in disorder and a blue-black stubble of beard on his haggardyellow cheeks, in a dirty gray prison shirt, barefoot, and treading assilently as Fate when it creeps on a victim, the rascal approached hissovereign. He stood before Caracalla exactly as the prefect, in a swiftchariot, had brought him out of prison. The white of his long, narroweyes, which had so terrified Melissa, had turned yellow, and his glancewas as restless and shifting as that of a hyena. His small head on itslong neck was never for a moment still; the ruthless wretch had satwaiting day after day in expectation of death, and it was by a miraclethat he found himself once more at the height of his ambition. But whenat last he inquired of Caracalla, in the husky voice which had gained anadded hoarseness from the damp dungeon whence he had been brought, whathis commands were, looking up at him like a starving dog which hopes fora titbit from his master's hand, even the fratricide, who himself heldthe sword sharpened to kill, shuddered at the sight and sound. 

But Caesar at once recovered himself, and when he asked the Egyptian:

"Will you undertake to help me, as captain of the night-watch, to punishthe traitors of Alexandria?" the answer was confident:

"What man can do, I can do. "

"Good!" replied Caracalla. "But this is not a matter of merelycapturing one or another. Every one--mark me--every one has meriteddeath who has broken the laws of hospitality, that hospitality which thislying city offered me. Do you understand? Yes? Well, then, how are weto detect the guilty? Where are we to find spies and executionersenough? How can we punish worst those whose wickedness has involved therest in guilt, especially the epigramatists of the Museum? How are we todiscover the ringleaders of those who insulted me yesterday in theCircus, and of those among the youths in the stadium who have dared toexpress their vile disapproval by whistling in my very face? What stepswill you take to hinder a single one from escaping? Consider. How is itto be done so effectually that I may lie down and say 'They have hadtheir deserts. I am content'?"

The Egyptian's eyes wandered round the floor, but he presently drewhimself up and answered briefly and positively, as though he were issuingan order to his men:

"Kill them all!"

Caracalla started, and repeated dully, "All?"

"All!" repeated Zminis, with a hideous grin. "The young ones are allthere, safe in the stadium. The men in the Museum fear nothing. Thosewho are in the streets can be cut down. Locked doors can be broken in. "

At this, Caesar, who had dropped on to his throne, started to his feet, flung the wine-cup he held across the room, laughed loudly, andexclaimed:

"You are the man for me! To work at once! This will be a day!--Macrinus, Theocritus, Antigonus, we need your troops. Send up thelegates. Those who do not like the taste of blood, may sweeten it withplunder. "

He looked young again, as if relieved from some burden on his mind, andthe thought flashed through his brain whether revenge were not sweeterthan love. 

No one spoke. Even Theocritus, on whose lips a word of flattery orapplause was always ready, looked down in his dismay; but Caracalla, inhis frenzy of excitement, heeded nothing. 

The hideous suggestion of Zminis seemed to him worthy of his greatness byits mere enormity. It must be carried out. Ever since he had firstdonned the purple he had made it his aim to be feared. If thistremendous deed were done, he need never frown again at those whom hewished to terrify. 

And then, what a revenge! If Melissa should hear of it, what an effectit must have on her!

To work, then!

And he added in a gentler tone, as if he had a delightful surprise instore for some old friend:

"But silence, perfect silence--do you hear?--till all is ready. --You, Zminis, may begin on the pipers in the stadium and the chatterers in theMuseum. The prize for soldiers and lictors alike lies in the merchants'chests. "

Still no one spoke; and now he observed it. His scheme was too grand forthese feeble spirits. He must teach them to silence their conscience andthe voice of Roman rectitude; he must take on himself the wholeresponsibility of this deed, at which the timid quaked. So he drewhimself up to his full height, and, affecting not to see the hesitancy ofhis companions, he said, in a tone of cheerful confidence:

"Let each man do his part. All I ask of you is to carry out the sentenceI pronounce as a judge. You know the crime of the citizens of this town, and, by virtue of the power I exercise over life and death, be it knownto all that I, Caesar, condemn--mark the word, condemn--every free maleof Alexandria, of whatever age or rank, to die by the sword of a Romanwarrior! This is a conquered city, which has forfeited every claim toquarter. The blood and the treasure of the inhabitants are the prize ofmy soldiery. Only"--and he turned to Timotheus--"this house of your god, which has given me shelter, with the priests and the treasure of greatSerapis, are spared. Now it lies with each of you to show whether or nohe is faithful to me. All of you"--and he addressed his friends--"allwho do me service in avenging me for the audacious insults which havebeen offered to your sovereign, are assured of my imperial gratitude. "

This declaration was not without effect, and murmurs of applause rosefrom the "friends" and favorites, though less enthusiastic than Caracallawas accustomed to hear. But the feebleness of this demonstration madehim all the prouder of his own undaunted resolve. 

Macrinus was one of those who had most loudly approved him, and Caracallarejoiced to think that this prudent counselor should advise his drinkingthe cup of vengeance to the dregs. Intoxicated already before he hadeven sipped it, he called Macrinus and Zminis to his side, and withglowing looks impressed on them to take particular care that Melissa, with her father, Alexander, and Diodoros were brought to him alive. 

"And remember, " he added, "there will be many weeping mothers here byto-morrow morning; but there is one I must see again, and that not as acorpse--that bedizened thing in red whom I saw in the Circus--I mean thewife of Seleukus, of the Kanopic way. "

CHAPTER XXXI. 

On the wide ascent leading to the Serapeum the praetorians stood awaitingCaesar's commands. They had not yet formed in rank and file, but weregrouped round the centurion Martialis, who had come to tell them, sadly, of his removal to Edessa, and to take leave of his comrades. He gave hishand to each one of them in turn, and received a kindly pressure inreturn; for the stubborn fellow, though not of the cleverest, had provedhimself a good soldier, and to many of them a trusty friend. There wasnot one who did not regret his going from among them. But Caesar hadspoken, and there was no gainsaying his orders. In the camp, afterservice, they might talk the matter over; for the present it were wiseto guard their tongues. 

The centurion had just said farewell to the last of his cohort, when theprefect, with the legate Quintus Flavius Nobilior, who commanded thelegion, and several other higher officers, appeared among them. Macrinusgreeted them briefly, and, instead of having the tuba blown as usual andletting them fall into their ranks, he told them to gather close roundhim, the centurions in front. He then disclosed to them the emperor'ssecret orders. Caesar, he began, had long exercised patience and mercy, but the insolence and malice of the Alexandrians knew no bounds;therefore, in virtue of his power over life and death, he had pronouncedjudgment upon them. To them as being nearest to his person he handedover the most remunerative part of the work of punishment. Whomsoeverthey found on the Kanopic way, the greatest and richest thoroughfare ofthe city, they were to cut down as they would the rebellious inhabitantsof a conquered town. Only the women and children and the slaves were tobe spared. If for this task, a hideous one at best, they chose to paythemselves out of the treasures of the citizens, nobody would blame them. 

A loud cheer followed these orders, and many an eye gleamed brighter. Even the coolest among them seemed to see a broad, deep pool of bloodinto which he need only dip his hand and bring out something worth thecatching. And the fish that were to be had there were not miserablecarp, but heavy gold and silver vessels, and coins and magnificentornaments. Macrinus then proceeded to inform the higher and lowerofficers of the course of action he had agreed upon with the emperor andZminis. Seven trumpet-blasts from the terrace of the Serapeum would givethe signal for the attack to begin. Then they were to advance, manipleon maniple; but they were not required to keep their ranks--each man hadhis own work to do. The legion was to assemble again at sunset at theGate of the Sun, at the eastern end of the road, after having swept itfrom end to end. 

By order of the emperor, each man, however, must be particularly carefulwhom he cut down in any hiding-place, for Caesar wished to give thefollowing Alexandrians--who had sinned most flagrantly against him--thebenefit of a trial, and they must therefore be taken alive. He thennamed the gem-cutter Heron, his son Alexander, and his daughter Melissa, the Alexandrian senator Polybius, his son Diodoros, and the wife ofSeleukus. 

He described them as well as he was able. For each one Caesar promiseda reward of three thousand drachmas, and for Heron's daughter twice asmuch, but only on condition of their being delivered up unhurt. It would therefore be to their own advantage to keep their eyes open inthe houses, and to be cautious. Whoever should take the daughter of thegem-cutter--and he described Melissa once more--would render a specialservice to Caesar and might reckon on promotion. 

The centurion Julius Martialis stayed to hear the end of this discourse, and then hurriedly departed. He felt just as he had done in the war withthe Alemanni when a red-haired German had dealt him a blow on the helmetwith his club. His head whirled and swam as it did then--only to-dayblood-red lights danced before his eyes instead of deep blue and gold. It was some time before he could collect his thoughts to any purpose; butwhen he did, he clinched his fists as he recalled Caesar's malignantcruelty in forcing him away from his family. 

Presently his large mouth widened into a satisfied smile. He was nolonger in that company, and need take no part in the horrid butchery. In any other place he would no doubt have joined in it like the rest, glad of the rich booty; but here, in his own home, where his mother andwife and child dwelt, it seemed a monstrous and accursed deed. Besidesthe gemcutter's family, in whom Martialis took no interest, Caesar seemedto have a special grudge against the lady Berenike, whose husbandSeleukus had been master to the centurion's father; nay, his ownwife was still in the service of the merchant. 

Not being skilled in any trade, he had entered the army early. AsEvocatus he had married the daughter of a free gardener of Seleukus, andwhen he was ordered to Rome to join the praetorians his wife had obtainedthe post of superintendent of the merchant's villa at Kanopus. For thisthey had to thank the kindness of the lady Berenike and her now deaddaughter Korinna; and he was honestly grateful to the wife of Seleukus, for, as his wife was established in the villa, he could leave her withoutanxiety and go with the army wherever it was ordered. 

Having by this time reached the Kanopic street on his way to his family, he perceived the statues of Hermes and Demeter which stood on each sideof the entrance to the merchant's house, and his slow mind recapitulatedthe long list of benefits he had received from Seleukus and his wife; asecret voice urged upon him that it was his duty to warn them. 

He owed nothing to Caesar, that crafty butcher, who out of pure malicecould deprive an honest soldier of his only joy in life and cheat him ofhalf his pay--for the praetorians had twice the wages of the othertroops; and if he only knew some handicraft, he would throw away hissword today. 

Here, at least, he could interfere with Caesar's ruthless schemes, besides doing his benefactors a good turn. He therefore entered thehouse of the merchant, instead of pursuing on his homeward way. 

He was well known, and the mistress of the house was at once apprisedof his arrival. 

All the lower apartments were empty, the soldiers who had been quarteredin them having joined the others at the Serapeum. 

But what had happened to the exquisite garden in the impluvium? Whathideous traces showed where the soldiers had camped, and, drunk withtheir host's costly wine, had given free play to their reckless spirits!

The velvet lawn looked like a stable-floor; the rare shrubs had beendenuded of their flowers and branches. Blackened patches on the mosaicpavement showed where fires had been kindled; the colonnades were turnedinto drying-grounds for the soldiers' linen, and a rope on which hungsome newly washed clothes was wound at one end round the neck of a Venusfrom the hand of Praxiteles, and at the other round the lyre of an Apollofashioned in marble by Bryaxis. Some Indian shrubs, of which his father-in-law had been very proud, were trampled underfoot; and in the greatbanqueting-hall, which had served as sleeping-room for a hundredpraetorians, costly cushions and draperies were strewn, torn from thecouches and walls to make their beds more comfortable. 

Used to the sights of war as he was, the soldier ground his teeth withwrath at this scene. As long as he could remember, he had looked uponeverything here with reverence and awe; and to think that his comradeshad destroyed it all made his blood boil. 

As he approached the women's apartments he took fright. How was he todisclose to his mistress what threatened her?

But it must be done; so he followed the waiting-maid Johanna, who led himto her lady's livingroom. 

In it sat the Christian steward Johannes, with writing tablets andscrolls of papyrus, working in the service of his patroness. She herselfwas with the wounded Aurelius; and Martialis, on hearing this, begged tobe admitted to her. 

Berenike was in the act of renewing the wounded soldier's bandages, andwhen the centurion saw how cruelly disfigured was the handsome, bloomingface of the young tribune, to whom he was heartily attached, the tearsrose to his eyes. The matron observed it, and witnessed with muchsurprise the affectionate greeting between the young noble and the plainsoldier. 

The centurion greeted her respectfully; but it was not till Nernesianusasked him how it was that the troops had been called to arms at thishour, that Martialis plucked up courage and begged the lady of the houseto grant him an interview. 

But Berenike had still to wash and bandage the wounds of her patient--a task which she always performed herself and with the greatest care;she therefore promised the soldier to be at his disposal in half an hour. 

"Then it will be too late!" burst from the lips of the centurion; thenshe knew, by his voice and the terror-stricken aspect of the man whom shehad known so long, that he meant to warn her, and there was but one fromwhom the danger could come. 

"Caesar?" she asked. "He is sending out his creatures to murder me?"

The imperious gaze of Berenike's large eyes so overpowered the simplesoldier as to render him speechless for a while. But Caesar hadthreatened his mistress's life--he must collect himself, and thus hemanaged to stammer:

"No, lady, no! He will not have you killed assuredly not! On thecontrary-they are to let you live when they cut down the others!"

"Cut down!" cried Apollinaris, raising himself up and staring horrifiedat this messenger of terror; but his brother laid his hand upon thecenturion's broad shoulder, and, shaking him vigorously, commanded him ashis tribune to speak out. 

The soldier, ever accustomed to obey, and only too anxious that hiswarning should not come too late, disclosed in hurried words what he hadlearned from the prefect. The brothers interrupted him from time to timewith some exclamation of horror or disgust, but Berenike remained silenttill Martialis stopped with a deep breath. 

Then the lady gave a shrill laugh, and as the others looked at her inamazement she said coolly "You men will wade through blood and shame withthat reprobate, if he but orders you to do so. I am only a woman, andyet I will show him that there are limits even to his malignity. "

She remained for a few moments lost in thought, and then ordered thecenturion to go and find out where her husband was. 

Martialis obeyed at once, and no sooner was the door closed behind himthan she turned to the two brothers, and addressing herself first to oneand then to the other with equal vehemence, she cried "Who is right now?Of all the villains who have brought shame upon the throne and name ofmighty Caesar, this is the most dastardly. He has written plainly enoughupon Apollinaris's face how much he values a brave soldier, the son of anoble house. And you, Nemesianus--are you not also an Aurelius? You sayso; and yet, had he not chanced to let you care for your brother, youwould at this moment be wandering through the city like a mad dog, bitingall who crossed your path. Why do you not speak? Why not tell me oncemore, Nemesianus, that a soldier must obey his commander blindly?--Andyou, Apollinaris, will you dare still to assert that the hand with whichCaesar tore your face was guided only by righteous indignation at aninsult offered to an innocent maiden? Have you the courage to excuse themurders by Caracalla of his own wife, and many other noble women, by hisanxiety for the safety of throne and state? I, too, am a woman, and mayhold up my head with the best; but what have I to do with the state orwith the throne? My eye met his, and from that moment the fiend was mydeadly enemy. A quick death at the hands of one of his soldiers seemedtoo good for the woman he hated. Wild beasts were to tear me to piecesbefore his eyes. Is that not sufficient for you? Put every abominationtogether, everything unworthy of an honorable man and abhorrent to thegods, and you have the man whom you so willingly obey. I am only thewife of a citizen. But were I the widow of a noble Aurelian and yourmother--" Here Apollinaris, whose wounds were beginning to burn again, broke in: "She would have counseled us to leave revenge to the gods. Heis Caesar!"

"He is a villain!" shrieked the matron--"the curse, the shame ofhumanity, a damnable destroyer of peace and honor and life, such as theworld has never beheld before! To kill him would be to earn thegratitude and blessing of the universe. And you, the scions of a noblehouse, you, I say, prove that there still are men among so many slaves!It is Rome herself who calls you through me--like her, a woman maltreatedand wounded to the heart's core--to bear arms in her service till shegives you the signal for making an end of the dastardly blood hound!"

The brothers gazed at one another pale and speechless, till at lastNemesianus ventured to say "He deserves to die, we know, a thousanddeaths, but we are neither judges nor executioners. We can not do thework of the assassin. "

"No, lady, we can not, " added Apollinaris, and shook his wounded headenergetically. 

But the lady, nothing daunted, went on: "Who has ever called Brutus amurderer? You are young--Life lies before you. To plunge a sword intothe heart of this monster is a deed for which you are too good. But Iknow a hand that understands its work and would be ready to guide thesteel. Call it out at the right moment and be its guide!"

"And that hand?" Apollinaris asked in anxious expectation. 

"It is there, " replied Berenike, pointing to Martialis, who entered theroom at that moment. Again the brothers interchanged looks of doubt, butthe lady cried: "Consider for a moment! I would fain go hence with thecertainty that the one burning desire shall be fulfilled which stillwarms this frozen heart. "

She motioned to the centurion, left the apartment with him, and precededhim to her own room. Arrived there, she ordered the astonished freedmanJohannes, in his office as notary, to add a codicil to her will. In theevent of her death, she left to Xanthe, the wife of the centurionMartialis, her lawful property the villa at Kanopus, with all itcontained, and the gardens appertaining to it, for the free use ofherself and her children. 

The soldier listened speechless with astonishment. This gift was worthtwenty houses in the city, and made its owner a rich man. But thetestator was scarcely ten years older than his Xanthe, and, as he kissedthe hem of his mistress's robe in grateful emotion, he cried: "May thegods reward you for your generosity; but we will pray and offer upsacrifices that it may be long before this comes into our hands!"

The lady shook her head with a bitter smile, and, drawing the soldieraside, she disclosed to him in rapid words her determination to quit thislife before the praetorians entered the house. She then informed thehorror-stricken man that she had chosen him to be her avenger. To him, too, the emperor had dealt a malicious blow. Let him remember that, whenthe time came to plunge the sword in the tyrant's heart. Should thisdeed, however, cost Martialis his life--which he had risked in many abattle for miserable pay--her will would enable his widow to bring uptheir children in happiness and comfort. 

The centurion had thrown in a deprecatory word or two, but Berenikecontinued as if she had not heard him, till at last Martialis cried:

"You ask too much of me, lady. Caesar is hateful to me, but I am nolonger one of the praetorians, and am banished the country. How is itpossible that I should approach him? How dare I, a common man--"

The lady came closer to him, and whispered:

"You will perform this deed to which I have appointed you in the name ofall the just. We demand nothing from you but your sword. Greater menthan you--the two Aurelians--will guide it. At their word of command youwill do the deed. When they give you the signal, brave Martialis, remember the unfortunate woman in Alexandria whose death you sworeto revenge. As soon as the tribunes--"

But the centurion was suddenly transformed. "If the tribunes commandit, " he interrupted with decision, his dull eye flashing--"if they demandit of me, I do it willingly. Tell them Martialis's sword is ever attheir service. It has made short work of stronger men than that viciousstripling. "

Berenike gave the soldier her hand, thanked him hurriedly, and beggedhim, as he could pass unharmed through the city, to hasten to herhusband's counting-house by the water-side, to warn him and carry himher last greetings. 

With tears in his eyes Martialis did as she desired. When he had gone, the steward began to implore his mistress to conceal herself, and notcast away God's gift of life so sinfully; but she turned from himresolutely though kindly, and repaired once more to the brothers' room. 

One glance at them disclosed to her that they had come to no definiteconclusion; but their hesitation vanished as soon as they heard that thecenturion was ready to draw his sword upon the emperor when they shouldgive the signal; and Berenike breathed a sigh of relief at thisresolution, and clasped their hands in gratitude. 

They, too, implored her to conceal herself, but she merely answered:

"May your youth grow into happy old age! Life can offer me nothing more, since my child was taken from me--But time presses--I welcome themurderers, now that I know that revenge will not sleep. "

"And your husband?" interposed Nemesianus. 

She answered with a bitter smile: "He? He has the gift of being easilyconsoled. --But what was that?"

Loud voices were audible outside the sick-room. Nemesianus stationedhimself in front of the lady, sword in hand. This protection, however, proved unnecessary, for, instead of the praetorians, Johanna entered theroom, supporting on her arm the half-sinking form of a young man in whomno one would have recognized the once beautifully curled and carefullydressed Alexander. A long caracalla covered his tall form; Dido theslave had cut off his hair, and he himself had disguised his featureswith streaks of paint. A large, broad-brimmed hat had slipped to theback of his head like a drunken man's, and covered a wound from which thered blood flowed down upon his neck. His whole aspect breathed pain andhorror, and Berenike, who took him for a hired cut-throat sent byCaracalla, retreated hastily from him till Johanna revealed his name. 

He nodded his head in confirmation, and then sank exhausted on his kneesbeside Apollinaris's couch and managed with great difficulty to stammerout: "I am searching for Philip. He went into the town-ill-out of hissenses. Did he not come to you?"

"No, " answered Berenike. "But what is this fresh blood? Has theslaughter begun?"

The wounded man nodded. Then he continued, with a groan: "In front ofthe house of your neighbor Milon--the back of my head--I fled--a lance--"

His voice failed him, and Berenike cried to the tribune: "Support him, Nemesianus! Look after him and tend him. He is the brother of themaiden--you know--If I know you, you will do all in your power for him, and keep him hidden here till all danger is over. "

"We will defend him with our lives!" cried Apollinaris, giving his handto the lady. 

But he withdrew it quickly, for from the impluvium arose the rattle ofarms, and loud, confused noise. 

Berenike threw up her head and lifted her hands as if in prayer. Herbosom heaved with her deep breath, the delicate nostrils quivered, andthe great eyes flashed with wrathful light. For a moment she stood thussilent, then let her arms fall, and cried to the tribunes:

"My curse be upon you if you forget what you owe to yourselves, to theRoman Empire, and to your dying friend. My blessing, if you hold fast towhat you have promised. "

She pressed their hands, and, turning to do the same to the artist, foundthat he had lost consciousness. Johanna and Nemesianus had removed hishat and caracalla, to attend to his wound. 

A strange smile passed over the matron's stern features. Snatching theGallic mantle from the Christian's hand, she threw it over her ownshoulders, exclaiming:

"How the ruffian will wonder when, instead of the living woman, theybring him a corpse wrapped in his barbarian's mantle!"

She pressed the hat upon her head, and from a corner of the room wherethe brothers' weapons stood, selected a hunting-spear. She asked if thisweapon might be recognized as belonging to them, and, on their answeringin the negative, said:

"My thanks, then, for this last gift!"

At the last moment she turned to the waiting-woman:

"Your brother will help you to burn Korinna's picture. No shameless gazeshall dishonor it again. " She tore her hand from that of the Christian, who, with hot tears, tried to hold her back; then, carrying her headproudly erect, she left them. 

The brothers gazed shudderingly after her. "And to know, " criedNemesianus, striking his forehead, "that our own comrades will slay her!Never were the swords of Rome so disgraced!"

"He shall pay for it!" replied the wounded man, gnashing his teeth. 

"Brother, we must avenge her!"

"Yes--her, and--may the gods hear me!--you too, Apollinaris, " swore theother, lifting his hand as for an oath. 

Loud screams, the clash of arms, and quick orders sounded from below andbroke in upon the tribune's vow. He was rushing to the window to drawback the curtain and look upon the horrid deed with his own eyes, whenApollinaris called him back, reminding him of their duty toward Melissa'sbrother, who was lost if the others discovered him here. 

Hereupon Nemesianus lifted the fainting youth in his strong arms andcarried him into the adjoining room, laying him upon the mat which hadserved their faithful old slave as a bed. He then covered him with hisown mantle, after hastily binding up the wound on his head and another onhis shoulder. 

By the time the tribune returned to his brother the noise outside hadgrown considerably less, only pitiable cries of anguish mingled with theshouts of the soldiers. 

Nemesianus hastily pulled aside the curtain, letting such a flood ofblinding sunshine into the room that Apollinaris covered his wounded facewith his hands and groaned aloud. 

"Sickening! Horrible! Unheard of!" cried his brother, beside himselfat the sight that met his eyes. "A battle-field! What do I say? Thepeaceful house of a Roman citizen turned into shambles. Fifteen, twenty, thirty bodies on the grass! And the sunshine plays as brightly on thepools of blood and the arms of the soldiers as if it rejoiced in it all. But there--Oh, brother! our Marcipor--there lies our dear old Marci!--andbeside him the basket of roses he had fetched for the lady Berenike fromthe flower-market. There they be, steeped in blood, the red and whiteroses; and the bright sun looks down from heaven and laughs upon it!"

He broke down into sobs, and then continued, gnashing his teeth withrage: "Apollo smiles upon it, but he sees it; and wait--wait but a littlelonger, Tarautas! The god stretches out his hand already for theavenging bow! Has Berenike ventured among them? Near the fountain-howit flashes and glitters with the hues of Iris!--they are crowding roundsomething on the ground--Mayhap the body of Seleukus. No--the crowd isseparating. Eternal gods! It is she--it is the woman who tended you!"

"Dead?" asked the other. 

"She is lying on the ground with a spear in her bosom. Now the legate-yes, it is Quintus Flavius Nobilior--bends over her and draws it out. Dead--dead! and slain by a man of our cohort!"

He clasped his hands before his face, while Apollinaris muttered curses, and the name of their faithful Marcipor, who had served their fatherbefore them, coupled with wild vows of vengeance. 

Nemesianus at length composed himself sufficiently to follow the courseof the horrible events going on below. 

"Now, " he went on, describing it to his brother, "now they aresurrounding Rufus. That merciless scoundrel must have done somethingabominable, that even goes beyond what his fellows can put up with. There they have caught a slave with a bundle in his hand, perhaps stolengoods. They will punish him with death, and are themselves no betterthan he. If you could only see how they come swarming from every sidewith their costly plunder! The magnificent golden jug set with jewels, out of which the lady Berenike poured the Byblos wine for you, is theretoo!--Are we still soldiers, or robbers and murderers?"

"If we are, " cried Apollinaris, "I know who has made us so. "

They were startled by the approaching rattle of arms in the corridor, andthen a loud knock at the chamber-door. The next moment a soldier's headappeared in the doorway, to be quickly withdrawn with the exclamation, "It is true--here lies Apollinaris!"

"One moment, " said a second deep voice, and over the threshold steppedthe legate of the legion, Quintus Flavius Nobilior, in all the panoply ofwar, and saluted the brothers. 

Like them, he came of an old and honorable race, and was acting in placeof the prefect Macrinus, whose office in the state prevented him fromtaking the military command of that mighty corps, the praetorians. Twenty years older than the twins, and a companion-in-arms of theirfather, he had managed their rapid promotion. He was their faithfulfriend and patron, and Apollinaris's misfortune had disgusted him no lessthan the order in the execution of which he was now obliged to take part. Having greeted the brothers affectionately, observed their painfulemotion, and heard their complaints over the murder of their slave, heshook his manly head, and pointing to the blood that dripped from hisboots and greaves, "Forgive me for thus defiling your apartments, " hesaid. "If we came from slaughtering men upon the field of battle, itcould only do honor to the soldier; but this is the blood of defenselesscitizens, and even women's gore is mixed with it. "

"I saw the body of the lady of this house, " said Nemesianus, gloomily. "She has tended my brother like a mother. "

"But, on the other hand, she was imprudent enough to draw down Caesar'sdispleasure upon her, " interposed the Flavian, shrugging his shoulders. "We were to bring her to him alive, but he had anything but friendlyintentions toward her; however, she spoiled his game. A wonderful woman!I have scarcely seen a man look death--and self-sought death--in the facelike that! While the soldiers down there were massacring all who fellinto their hands--those were the orders, and I looked on at the butchery, for, rather than--well, you can imagine that for yourselves--through oneof the doors there came a tall, extraordinary figure. The wide brim of atraveling hat concealed the features, and it was wrapped in one of theemperor's fool's mantles. It hurried toward the maniple of Sempronius, brandishing a javelin, and with a sonorous voice reviling the soldierstill even my temper was roused. Here I caught sight of a flowing robebeneath the caracalla, and, the hat having fallen back, a beautifulwoman's face with large and fear-inspiring eyes. Then it suddenlyflashed upon me that this grim despiser of death, being a woman, wasdoubtless she whom we were to spare. I shouted this to my men; but--andat that moment I was heartily ashamed of my profession--it was too late. Tall Rufus pierced her through with his lance. Even in falling shepreserved the dignity of a queen, and when the men surrounded her shefixed each one separately with her wonderful eyes and spoke through thedeath-rattle in her throat:

"'Shame upon men and soldiers who let themselves be hounded on like dogsto murder and dishonor!' Rufus raised his sword to make an end of her, but I caught his arm and knelt beside her, begging her to let me see toher wound. With that she seized the lance in her breast with both hands, and with her last breath murmured, 'He desired to see the living woman--bring him my body, and my curse with it! Then with a last supreme effortshe buried the spear still deeper in her bosom; but it was not necessary. 

"I gazed petrified at the high-bred, wrathful face, still beautiful indeath, and the mysterious, wide-open eyes that must have flashed soproudly in life. It was enough to drive a man mad. Even after I hadclosed her eyes and spread the mantle over her--"

"What has been done with the body?" asked Apollinaris. 

"I caused it to be carried into the house and the door of the death-chamber carefully locked. But when I returned to the men. I had toprevent them from tearing Rufus to pieces for having lost them the largereward which Caesar had promised for the living prisoner. "

"And you, " cried Apollinaris, excitedly, "had to look on while our men, honest soldiers, plundered this house--which entertained many of us sohospitably--as if they had been a band of robbers! I saw them draggingout things which were used in our service only yesterday. "

"The emperor--his permission!" sighed Flavius. "You know how it is. Thelowest instincts of every nature come out at such a time as this, and thesun shines upon it all. Many a poor wretch of yesterday will go to bed awealthy man to-day. But, for all that, I believe much was hidden fromthem. In the room of the mistress of the house whence I have just come, a fire was still blazing in which a variety of objects had been burned. The flames had destroyed a picture--a small painted fragment betrayed thefact. They perhaps possessed masterpieces of Apelles or Zeuxis. Thiswoman's hatred would lead her to destroy them rather than let them fallinto the hands of her imperial enemy; and who can blame her?"

"It was her daughter's portrait, " said Nemesianus, unguardedly. 

The legate turned upon him in surprise. "Then she confided in you?" heasked. 

"Yes, " returned the tribune, "and we are proud to have been so honored byher. Before she went to her death she took leave of us. We let her go;for we at least could not bring ourselves to lay hands upon a noblelady. "

The officer looked sternly at him and exclaimed, angrily:

"Do you suppose, young upstart, that it was less painful to me and manyanother among us? Cursed be this day, that has soiled our weapons withthe blood of women and slaves, and may every drachma which I take fromthe plunder here bring ill-luck with it! Call the accident that has keptyou out of this despicable work a stroke of good fortune, but beware howyou look down upon those whose oath forces them to crush out every humanfeeling from their hearts! The soldier who takes part with hiscommander's enemy--"

He was interrupted by the entrance of Johanna, the Christian, who salutedthe legate, and then stood confused and embarrassed by the side ofApollinaris's bed. The furtive glance she cast first at the side-roomand then at Nemesianus did not pass unobserved by the quick eye of thecommander, and with soldierly firmness he insisted on knowing what wasconcealed behind that door. 

"An unfortunate man, " was Apollinaris's answer. 

"Seleukus, the master of this house?" asked Quintus Flavius, sternly. 

"No, " replied Nemesianus. "It is only a poor, wounded painter. And yet--the praetorians will go through fire and water for you, if you deliverup this man to them as their booty. But if you are what I hold you tobe--"

"The opinion of hot-headed boys is of as little consequence to me as thefavor of my subordinates, " interposed the commander. "Whatever my conscience tells me is right, I shall do. Quick, now! Who is in there?"

"The brother of the maiden for whose sake Caesar--" stammered the woundedman. 

"The maiden whom you have to thank for that disfigured face?" cried thelegate. "You are true Aurelians, you boys; and, though you may doubtwhether I am the man you take me for, I confess with pleasure that youare exactly as I would wish to have you. The praetorians have slain yourfriend and servant; I give you that man to make amends for it. "

With deep emotion Nemesianus seized his old friend's hands, andApollinaris spoke words of gratitude to him from his couch. The officerwould not listen to their thanks, and walked toward the door; but Johannastood before him, and entreated him to allow the twins, whose servant hadbeen killed, to take another, from whom they need have no fear oftreachery. He had been captured in the impluvium by the praetorianswhile trying, in the face of every danger, to enter the house where thepainter lay, to whose father he had belonged for many years. He would beable to tend both Apollinaris and Melissa's brother, and make it possibleto keep Alexander's hiding-place a secret. The soldiery would be certainto penetrate as far as this, and other lives would be endangered if theyshould bear off the faithful servant and force him on the rack todisclose where Melissa's father and relatives were hidden. 

The legate promised to insure the freedom of Argutis. 

A few more words of thanks and farewell, and Quintus had fulfilled hismission to the Aurelians. Shortly afterward the tuba sounded to assemblethe plunderers still scattered about Seleukus's house, and Nemesianus sawthe men marching in small companies into the great hall. They werefollowed by their armor-bearers, loaded with treasure of every kind; andthree chariots, drawn by fine horses, belonging to Seleukus and hismurdered wife, conveyed such booty as was too heavy for men to carry. Inthe last of these stood the statue of Eros by Praxiteles. The glorioussunshine lighted up the smiling marble face; with the charm of bewitchingbeauty he seemed to gaze at the lurid crimson pools on the ground, and atthe armed cohorts which marched in front to shed more blood and rousemore hatred. 

As Nemesianus withdrew from the window, Argutis came into the room. Thelegate had released him; and when Johanna conducted the faithful fellowto Alexander's bedside, and he saw the youth lying pale and with closedeyes, as though death had claimed him for his prey, the old man droppedon his knees, sobbing loudly. 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

While Alexander, well nursed by old Argutis and Johanna, lay in highfever, raving in his delirium of Agatha and his brother Philip, and stilloftener calling for his sister, Melissa was alone in her hiding-place. It was spacious enough, indeed, for she was concealed in the roomsprepared to receive the Exoterics before the mysteries of Serapis. Awhole suite of apartments, sleeping-rooms and halls, were devoted totheir use, extending all across the building from east to west. Some ofthese were square, others round or polygonal, but most of them muchlonger than they were wide. Painters and sculptors had everywherecovered the walls with pictures in color and in high relief, calculatedto terrify or bewilder the uninitiated. The statues, of which there weremany, bore strange symbols, the mosaic flooring was covered with imagesintended to excite the fancy and the fears of the beholder. 

When Melissa first entered her little sleeping room, darkness hadconcealed all this from her gaze. She had been only too glad to obey thematron's bidding and go to rest at once. Euryale had remained with hersome time, sitting on the edge of the bed to hear all that had happenedto the girl during the last few hours, and she had impressed on her howshe should conduct herself in case of her hiding-place being searched. 

When she presently bade her good-night, Melissa repeated what thewaiting-woman Johanna had told her of the life of Jesus Christ; but sheexpressed her interest in the person of the Redeemer in such a strangeand heathen fashion that Euryale only regretted that she could not atonce enlighten the exhausted girl. With a hearty kiss she left her torest, and Melissa was no sooner alone than sleep closed her weary youngeyes. 

It was near morning when she fell asleep; and when she awoke, accustomedas she was to early hours, she was startled to see how much of the daywas spent. So she rose hastily, and then perceived that the lady Euryalemust already have come to see her, for she found fresh milk by thebedside, and some rolls of manuscript which had not been there the daybefore. Her first thought was for her imperiled relatives--her father, her brothers, her lover--and she prayed for each, appealing first to themanes of her mother, and then to mighty Serapis and kindly Isis, whowould surely hear her in these precincts dedicate to them. 

The danger of those she loved made her forget her own, and she vividlypictured to herself what might be happening to each, what each one mightbe doing to protect her and save her from the spies of the despot, who bythis time must have received her missive. Still, the doubt whether hemight not, after all, be magnanimous and forgive her, rose again andagain to her mind, though everything led her to think it impossible. 

During her prayer and in her care for the others she had felt reasonablycalm; but at the first thought of Caesar a painful agitation tookpossession of her soul, and to overcome it she began an inspection of herspacious hiding-place, where the lady Euryale had prepared her to beamazed. And, indeed, it was not merely strange, but it filled her heartand mind with astonishment and terror. Wherever she looked, mysticfigures puzzled her; and Melissa turned from a picture in relief ofbeheaded figures with their feet in the air, and a representation of thedamned stewing in great caldrons and fanning themselves with diabolicalirony, only to see a painting of a female form over whose writhing bodyboats were sailing, or a four-headed ram, or birds with human headsflying away with a mummified corpse. On the ceiling, too, there wasstrange imagery; and when she looked at the floor to rest her bewilderedfancy, her eyes fell on a troop of furies pursuing the wicked, or a poolof fire by which horrible monsters kept guard. 

And all these pictures were not stiff and formal like Egyptian decorativeart, but executed by Greek artists with such liveliness and truth thatthey seemed about to speak; and Melissa could have fancied many timesthat they were moving toward her from the ceiling or the walls. 

If she remained here long, she thought she must go out of her mind; andyet she was attracted, here by a huge furnace on whose metal floor largemasses of fuel seemed to be, and there by a pool of water withcrocodiles, frogs, tortoises, and shells, wrought in mosaic. 

Besides these and other similar objects, her curiosity was aroused bysome large chests in which book-rolls, strange vessels, and an endlessvariety of raiment of every shape and size were stored, from the simplechiton of the common laborer to the star-embroidered talar of the adept. 

Her protectress had told her that the mystics who desired to be admittedto the highest grades here passed through fire and water, and had to gothrough many ceremonies in various costumes. She had also informed herthat the uninitiated who desired to enter these rooms had to open threedoors, each of which, as it was closed, gave rise to a violent ringing;so that she might not venture to get away from the room, into which, however, she could bar herself. If the danger were pressing, there was adoor, known only to the initiated, which led to the steps and out of thebuilding. Her sleeping-place, happily, was not far from a window lookingto the west, so that she was able to refresh her brain after thebewildering impressions which had crowded on her in the inner rooms. 

The paved roadway dividing the Serapeum from the stadium was at firstfairly crowded; but the chariots, horsemen, and foot-passengers on whoseheads she looked down from her high window interested her as little asthe wide inclosure of the stadium, part of which lay within sight. 

A race, no doubt, was to be held there this morning, for slaves wereraking the sand smooth, and hanging flowers about a dais, which was nodoubt intended for Caesar. Was it to be her fate to see the dreadful manfrom the place where she was hiding from him? Her heart began to beatfaster, and at the same time questions crowded on her excited brain, eachbringing with it fresh anxiety for those she loved, of whom, till now, she had been thinking with calm reassurance. 

Whither had Alexander fled?

Had her father and Philip succeeded in concealing themselves in thesculptor's work-room?

Could Diodoros have escaped in time to reach the harbor with Polybius andPraxilla?

How had Argutis contrived that her letter should reach Caesar's handswithout too greatly imperiling himself?

She was quite unconscious of any guilt toward Caracalla. There had been, indeed, a strong and strange attraction which had drawn her to him; evennow she was glad to have been of service to him, and to have helped himto endure the sufferings laid upon him by a cruel fate. But she couldnever be his. Her heart belonged to another, and this she had confessedin a letter--perhaps, indeed, too late. If he had a heart really capableof love, and had set it on her, he would no doubt think it hard that heshould have bestowed his affections on a girl who was already plighted toanother, even when she first appeared before him as a suppliant, thoughdeeply moved by pity; still, he had certainly no right to condemn herconduct. And this was her firm conviction. 

If her refusal roused his ire--if her father's prophecy andPhilostratus's fears must be verified, that his rage would involve manyothers besides herself in ruin, then--But here her thought broke off witha shudder. 

Then she recalled the hour when she had been ready and willing to be his, to sacrifice love and happiness only to soften his wild mood and protectothers from his unbridled rage. Yes, she might have been his wife bythis time, if he himself had not proved to her that she could never gainsuch power over him as would control his sudden fits of fury, or obtainmercy for any victim of his cruelty. The murder of Vindex and his nephewhad been the death-blow of this hope. She best knew how seriously shehad come to the determination to give up every selfish claim to futurehappiness in order that she might avert from others the horrors whichthreatened them; and now, when she knew the history of the Divine Lord ofthe Christians, she told herself that she had acted at that moment in amanner well-pleasing to that sublime Teacher. Still, her strong commonsense assured her that to sacrifice the dearest and fondest wish of herheart in vain would not have been right and good, but foolish. 

The evil deeds which Caracalla was now preparing to commit he would havedone even if she were at his side. Of what small worth would she haveseemed to him, and to herself!--When this tyranny should be overpast, when he should be gone to some other part of his immense empire, if thoseshe loved were spared she could be happy--ah! so happy with the man towhom she had given her heart--as happy as she would have been miserableif she had become the victim to unceasing terrors as Caesar's wife. 

Euryale was right, and Fate, to which she had appealed, had decided wellfor her. That, the greatest conceivable sacrifice, would have been invain; for the sake of a ruthless tyrant's foul desire she would have beenguilty of the basest breach of faith, have poisoned her lover's heart andsoul, and have wrecked his whole future life as well as her own. Away, then, with foolish doubts! Pythagoras was wise in warning her againsttorturing her heart. The die was cast. She and Caracalla must go ondivergent roads, Her duty now was to fight for her own happiness againstany who threatened it, and, above all, against the tyrant who hadcompelled her, innocent as she was, to hide like a criminal. 

She was full of righteous wrath against the sanguinary persecutor, andholding her head high she went back into her sleeping-room to finishdressing. She moved more quickly than usual, for the bookrolls whichEuryale had laid by her bed while she was still asleep attracted her eyewith a suggestion of promise. Eager to know what their contents were, she took them up, drew a stool to the window, and tried to read. 

But many voices came up to her from outside, and when she looked downinto the road she saw troops of youths crowding into the stadium. Whatfine fellows they were, as they marched on, talking and singing; and shesaid to herself that Diodoros and Alexander were taller even than most ofthese, and would have been handsome among the handsomest! She amusedherself for some time with watching them; but when the last man hadentered the stadium, and they had formed in companies, she again took upthe rolls. 

One contained the gospel of Matthew and the other that of Luke. 

The first, beginning with the genealogy, gave her a string of strange, barbarous names which did not attract her; so she took up the roll ofLuke, and his simple narrative style at once charmed her. There weredifficulties in it, no doubt, and she skipped sundry unintelligiblepassages, but the second chapter captivated her attention. It spoke ofthe birth of the great Teacher whom the Christians worshiped as theirGod. Angels had announced to the shepherds in the field that great joyshould come on the whole world, because the Saviour was born; and thisSaviour and Redeemer was no hero, no sage, but a child wrapped inswaddling-clothes and lying in a manger. 

At this she smiled, for she loved little children, and had long known nogreater pleasure than to play with them and help them. How manydelightful hours did she owe to the grandchildren of their neighborSkopas!

And this child, hailed at its birth by a choir of angels, had become aGod in whom many believed! and the words of the angels' chant were:"Glory to God on high, and on earth peace, good-will toward men!"

How great and good it sounded! With eager excitement she fastened therolls together, and on her features was depicted impatient longing to putan end to an intolerable state of things, as she exclaimed, though therewas no one but herself to hear: "Ay, peace, salvation, good-will! Notthis hatred, this thirst for revenge, this blood, this persecution, and, as their hideous fruit, this terror, these horrible, cruel fears--"

Here she was interrupted by the clatter of arms and rapping of hammerswhich came up from below. Caesar's Macedonian guard and other infantrytroops were silently coming up in companies and vanishing into the side-doors which led to the upper tiers of the stadium. What could this mean?Meanwhile carpenters were busy fastening up the chief entrance withwooden beams. It looked like closing up sluice-gates to hinder theinvasion of a high tide. But the stadium was already full ofmen. She had seen thousands of youths march in, and there they stood inclose ranks in the arena below her. Besides these, there were now animmense number of soldiers. They must all get out again presently, andwhat a crush there would be in the side exits if the vomitorium wereclosed! She longed to call down, to warn the carpenters of the folly oftheir act. Or was it that the youth of the town were to be pent into thestadium to hear some new and more severe decree, while some of the morerefractory were secured?

It must be so. What a shame!

Then came a few vexilla of Numidian troopers at a slow pace. At theirhead, on a particularly high horse, rode the legate, a very tall man. Heglanced up to the side where she was, and Melissa recognized the EgyptianZminis. At this her hand sought the place of her heart, for she felt asthough it had ceased to beat. What! This wretch, the deadly foe of herfather and brother, here, at the head of the Roman troops? Somethinghorrible, impossible, must be about to happen!

The sun was mirrored in the shining coat of his horse, and in thelictor's axe he bore, carrying it like a commander's staff. He raised itonce, twice, and, high as she was above him, she could see how sharp thecontrast was between the yellow whites of his eyes and the swarthy colorof his face. 

Now, for the third time, the bright steel of the axe flashed in thesunshine, and immediately after trumpet-calls sounded and were repeatedat short intervals, which still, to her, seemed intolerably long. HowMelissa had presence of mind enough to count them she knew not, but shedid. At the seventh all was still, and soon after a short blast on thetuba rang out from above, below, and from all sides of the stadium. Eachwent like an arrow to the heart of the anxious, breathless girl. Fromthe moment when she had seen Zminis she had expected the worst, but thecry of rage and despair from a thousand voices which now split her eartold her how far the incredible reality outdid her most horribleimaginings. 

Breathless, and with a throbbing brain, she leaned out as far as shecould, and neither felt the burning sun-which was now beginning to fallon the western face of the temple--nor heeded the risk of being seen andinvolving herself and her protectress in ruin. Trembling like a gazellein a frosty winter's night, she would gladly have withdrawn from thewindow, but she felt as if some spell held her there. She longed to shuther ears and eyes, but she could not help looking on. Her every instinctprompted her to shriek for help, but she could not utter a sound. 

There she stood, seeing and hearing, and her low moaning changed to thatlaughter which anguish borrows from gladness when it has exhausted allforms of expression. At last she sank on her knees on the floor, andwhile she shed tears of pain still laughed shrilly, till she understoodwith sudden horror what was happening. She started violently; a sobconvulsed her bosom; she wept and wept, and these tears did her good. 

When, at one in the afternoon, the sun fell full on her window, she hadnot yet found strength to move. A flood of bright light, in whichwhirled millions of motes, danced before her eyes; and as her breath sentthe atoms flying, it passed through her mind that at this very moment thereprobate utterance of a madman's lips was blowing happiness, joy, peace, and hope out of the lives of many thousands--blowing them intonothingness, like the blast of a storm. 

Then she commanded herself, for the horrible scene before her threatenedto stamp itself on her eye like the image her father could engrave on anonyx; and she must avoid that, or give up all hope of ever being light-hearted again. Hardly an hour since she had seen the arena looking likea basket of fresh flowers, full of splendid, youthful men. Then thewarriors of the Macedonian phalanx had taken their places on the longranks of seats on which she looked down, with several cohorts of archers, brown Numidians and black Ethiopians, like inquisitive spectators of theexpected show--but all in full armor. At first the youths and men hadformed in companies, with singing, talk, and laughter, and here and therea satirical chant; but presently there had been squabbles with the town-watch, and while the younger and more careless still were gay enough, whole companies on the other hand had looked up indignantly at theRomans; some had anxiously questioned each other's eyes, or stared downin sullen dismay at the sand. 

The hot, seething blood of these men--the sons of a free city, andaccustomed to a life of rapid action in hard work and frenzied enjoyment--took the delay very much amiss; and when it was rumored that the doorswere being locked, impatience and distrust found emphatic utterance. Timid whistling and other expressions of disapproval had been followed bylouder demonstrations, for to be locked up was intolerable. But thelictors and guards took no notice, after removing the member of theMuseum who had perpetrated the epigram on Caesar's mother. This one, whohad certainly gone too far, was to pay for all, it would seem. 

Then the trumpets sounded, and the most heedless of the troop of youthsbegan to feel acute anxiety and alarm. From her high post of observationMelissa could see that, although the appearance of Zminis on the scenehad caused a fever of agitation, they now broke their serried squares, wandered about as if undecided what to do, but prepared for the worst, and turned their curly heads now to this side and now to that, till thetrumpetblast from the seats attracted every eye upward, and the butcherybegan. 

Did the cry, "Stop, wretches!" really break from Melissa's lips, or hadshe only intended to shout it down to the people in the stadium? She didnot know; but as she recollected the long rank of Numidians who, quick aslightning, lifted their curved bows and sent a shower of arrows down onthe defenseless lads in the arena, she felt as though she had againshrieked out: "Stop!" Then it seemed as though a storm of wind had tornthousands of straight boughs with metallic leaves that flashed in thesunshine from some huge invisible tree, and flung them into the arena;and, as her eve followed their fall, she could have fancied that shelooked on a corn-field beaten down by a terrific hail-storm; but theboughs and leaves were lances and arrows, and each ear of corn cut downwas a young and promising human being. 

Zminis's preposterous suggestion had been acted on. Caracalla wasavenged on the youth of Alexandria. 

Not a tongue could wag now in abuse; every pair of young lips which haddared utter a scornful cry or purse up to whistle at the sight of Caesar, was silenced forever-and, with the few guilty, a hundred times more whowere innocent. She knew now why the great gate had been barred withbeams, and why the troop had entered by the side-doors. The scene of thebrilliant display had become a lake of blood, full of the dead and dying. Death had invaded the rows of seats; instead of laurel wreaths andprizes, deadly weapons were showered down into the arena. It seemed nowas though the sun, with its blinding radiance, were mercifully fain tohinder the human eye from looking down on the horrible picture. To avoidthe sickening sight. Melissa closed her eyes and dragged herself to herfeet with an effort, to hide herself she knew not where. 

But again there was a flourish of trumpets and loud acclamations, andagain an irresistible power dragged her to the window. 

A splendid quadriga had stopped at the gate of the stadium, surrounded bycourtiers and guards. It was Caracalla's, for Pandion held the reins. Could Caracalla approve of this most horrible crime, organized by thewretch Zminis, by appearing on the scene; or might it not be that, in hiswrath at the bloodthirsty zeal of his vile tool, he had come to dismisshim?

She hoped it was this; and, at any cost, she must know the truth as tothis question, which was not based on mere curiosity. Holding one handto her wildly beating heart, she looked across the bloodstained arena tothe rows of seats and the dais decorated for Caesar. There stoodCaracalla, with the Egyptian at his side, pointing down at the arena withhis finger. And what was to be seen on the spot he indicated was sohorrible that she again shut her eyes, and this time she even coveredthem with her hands. But she would and must see, and once more shelooked across; and the man whose assurances she had once believed, thatit was only his care for the throne and state and the compulsion of cruelfate which had ever made him shed blood--that man was standing side byside with the vile, ruthless spy whose tall figure towered far above hismaster's. His hand lay on the villain's arm, his eye rested on thecorpse-strewn arena beneath; and now he raised his head, he turned hisface, whose look of suffering had once moved her soul, toward her--and helaughed--she could see every feature--laughed so loud, so heartily, sogleefully, as she had never before seen him laugh. He laughed till hiswhole body and shoulders shook. Now he took his hand from the Egyptian'sarm and pointed to the dead lying at his feet. 

As she saw that laugh, of which she could not hear a sound, Melissa feltas though a hyena had yelled in her ear, and, yielding to an irresistibleimpulse, she looked down once more at the destruction of youthful lifeand happiness which had been wrought in one short hour--at the stream ofblood after which so many bitter tears must flow. The sight indeed cuther to the heart, and yet she was thankful for it; for the first time thereckless cruelty of that laughing monster was evident in all its nakedatrocity. Horror, aversion, loathing for that man to whom everything butpower, cruelty, and cunning, was as nothing, left no room for fear orpity, or even the least shade of self-reproach for having aroused in hima desire which she could not gratify. 

She clenched her little fists, and, without vouchsafing another glance atthe detestable butcher who had dared to cast his eyes on her, shewithdrew from the window and cried out aloud, though startled at thesound of her own voice: "The time, the time! It is fulfilled for himthis day!"

And how her eyes flashed and her bosom heaved and fell! With what a firmstep did she pace the long suite of rooms, while the conviction was bornein on her that this deed of the vile assassin in the purple must bringthe day of salvation and peace nearer--that day of which Andreas dreamed!As in her silent walk she passed the book-rolls which the lady Euryalehad so quietly laid by her bedside, she took up the glad message of Lukewith enthusiastic excitement, held it on high, and shouted the angels'greeting which had impressed itself on her memory out of the window, asthough she longed that Caracalla should hear it--"Peace on earth andgood-will toward men!"

Then she resumed her walk through the rooms of the heathen mystics, repeating to herself all the comfortable words she had ever heard fromEuryale and the freedman Andreas. The image of the divine Lord, who hadcome to bestow love on the world, and seal his sublime doctrine bysacrificing his life, rose up before her soul, and all that the ChristianJohanna had told her of him made the picture clear, till he stood plainlybefore her, beautiful and gentle, in a halo of love and kindness, and yetstrong and noble, for the crucified One was a heroic Saviour. 

At this she remembered with satisfaction the struggle she herself hadfought, and her comfort when she had decided to sacrifice her ownhappiness to save others from sorrow. She now resolutely grasped thelady Euryale's book-rolls, for they contained the key to the innerchambers of the wondrous structure into whose forecourt life itself andher own intimate experience had led her. She was soon sitting with herback to the window, and unrolled the gospel of Matthew till she came tothe first sentence which Euryale had marked for her with a red line. 

Melissa was too restless to read straight on; as impatient as a child whofinds itself for the first time in a garden which its parents havebought, she rushed from one tempting passage to another, applying each toherself, to those whom she loved, or in another sense to the disturber ofher peace. 

With a joyful heart she now believed the promise which at first hadstaggered her, that the Kingdom of Heaven was at hand. 

But her eye ran swiftly over the open roll, and was attracted by a markdrawing her attention to a whole chapter. She there read how JesusChrist had gone up on to a mountain to address the vast multitude whofollowed him. He spoke of the kingdom of heaven, and of who those werethat should be suffered to enter there. First, they were the poor inspirit--and she no doubt was one of those. Among those who were rich inspirit her brother Philip was certainly one of the richest, and whitherhad an acute understanding and restless brain led him that they so seldomgave his feelings time to make themselves heard?

Then the mourners were to be comforted. Oh, that she could have calledthe lady Berenike to her side and bid her participate in this promise!And the meek--well, they might come to power perhaps after the downfallof the wretch who had flooded the world with blood, and who, of all menon earth, was the farthest removed from the spirit which gazed at herfrom this scripture, so mild and genial. Of those who hungered andthirsted after righteousness she again was one: they should be filled, and the lady Euryale and Andreas had already loaded the board for her. 

The merciful, she read, should obtain mercy; and she, if any one, had aright to regard herself as a peacemaker: thus to her was the promise thatshe should be called one of the children of God. 

But at the next verse she drew herself up, and her face was radiant withjoy, for it seemed to have been written expressly for her; nay, to findit here struck her as a marvel of good fortune, for there stood thewords: "Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake:for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are ye when men shallrevile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil againstyou. "

All these things had come upon her in these last days-though not, indeed, for the sake of Jesus Christ and righteousness, but only for the sake ofthose she loved; yet she would have been ready to endure the worst. 

And the hapless victims in the arena! Might not the promised bliss awaitthem too? Oh, how gladly would she have bestowed on them the fairestreward! And if this should indeed be their lot after death, where wasthe revenge of their bloodthirsty murderer?

Oh, that her mother were still alive--that she, Melissa, had beenpermitted to share this great consolation with her! In a briefaspiration she uplifted her soul to the beloved dead, and as she furtherunrolled the manuscript her eye fell on the words: "Love your enemies;bless them that curse you, and do good to them that hate you. " No, shecould not do this; this seemed to her to be too much to ask; even Andreashad not attained to this; and yet it must be good and lovely, if onlybecause it helped to cement the peace for which she longed more ferventlythan for any other blessing. 

Next she read: "For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged, " andshe shuddered as she thought of the future fate of the man who had bytreachery brought murder and death on an industrious and flourishing cityas a punishment for the light words and jests of a few mockers, and thedisappointment he had suffered from an insignificant girl. 

But then, again, she breathed more freely, for she read: "Ask, and itshall be given unto you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall beopened. " Could there be a more precious promise? And to her, she felt, it was already fulfilled; for her trembling finger had, as it were, butjust touched the door, and, to! it stood open before her, and that whichshe had so long sought she had now found. But it was quite natural thatit should be so, for the God of the Christians loved those who turned tohim as His own children. Here it was written why those who asked shouldreceive, and those who sought should find: "For what man is there of youwhom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone?"

If it were only as a peacemaker, she was already a child of Him who hadasked this, and she might look for none but good gifts from Him. Andwhat was commanded immediately after seemed to her so simple, so easy toobey, and yet so wise. She thought it over a little, and saw that inthis precept--of which it was said that it was all the law and theprophets--there was in fact a rule which, if it were obeyed, must keepall mankind guiltless, and make every one happy. These words, shethought, should be written over every door and on every heart, as thewinged sun was placed over every Egyptian temple gate, so that no oneshould ever forget them for an instant. She herself would bear them inmind, and she repeated them to herself in an undertone, "Whatsoever yewould that men should do unto you, even so do unto them. " Her eyewandered to the window and out to the stadium. How happy might the worldbe under a sovereign who should obey that law! And Caracalla?--No, shewould not allow the contentment which filled her to be troubled by athought of him. 

With a hasty gesture she placed the ivory rod which she had found in themiddle of the roll so as to flatten it out, and her eye fell on thewords, "Come unto me, all ye that are weary and heavy-laden, and I willgive you rest. " To her, if to any one, was this glorious biddingaddressed, for few had a heavier burden to bear. But indeed she alreadyfelt it lighter, after the terrors she had gone through on the very vergeof despair; and now, even though she was still surrounded by dangers, shewas far from feeling oppressed or terrified. Now her heart beat higherwith hopeful gladness, and she was full of fervent gratitude as she toldherself with lively and confident assurance that she had found a newguide, and, holding His loving and powerful hand, could walk in the wayin safety. She felt as though some beloved hand had given her a vial ofprecious medicine that would cure every disease, when she had learnedthis verse, too, by heart. She would never forget the friendly promiseand invitation that lay in those words. And to Alexander, at least--poor, conscience-stricken Alexander--they might bring some comfort, if not to her father and Philip, since the call of the Son of God wasaddressed to him too. And she looked as happy as though she had heardsomething to rejoice her heart and soul. Her red lips parted once more, showing the two white teeth which were never to be seen but when shesmiled and some real happiness stirred her soul. 

She fancied she was alone, but, even while she was reading the words inwhich the Saviour called to him the weary and heavy-laden, the ladyEuryale had noiselessly opened a secret door leading to Melissa's hiding-place, known only to herself and her husband, and had come close to her. She now stood watching the girl with surprise and astonishment, for shehad expected to find her beside herself, desperate, and more than everneeding comfort and soothing. The unhappy girl must have been drawn tothe window by the cries of the massacred, and at least have glanced atthe revolting scene in the stadium. She would have thought it morenatural if she had found Melissa overcome by the horrors she hadwitnessed, half distraught or paralyzed by distress and rage. And theresat the young creature, whom she knew to be soft-hearted and gentle, smiling and with beaming eyes--though those eyes must have rested on themost hideous spectacle--looking as though the roll in her lap were thefirst enchanting raptures of a lover. The book lying on Melissa's kneeswas the gospel of Matthew, which she herself early this morning, whilethe girl was still sleeping, had laid by her side to comfort her and giveher some insight into the blessings of Christianity. But thesescriptures, so sacred to Euryale, had seemed to count for less thannothing to this heathen girl, the sister of Philip the skeptic. 

Euryale loved Melissa, but far dearer to her was the book to whose all-important contents the maiden seemed to have closed her heart incoldness. 

It was for Melissa's sake that, when the high-priest's dwelling wassearched by the new magistrate's spies from cellar to garret, she hadpatiently submitted to her husband's hard words. She had liked to thinkthat she might bring this girl as a pure white lamb into the fold of theGood Shepherd, who to herself was so dear, and through whom her saddenedlife had found new charm, her broken heart new joys. A few hours sinceshe had assured her friend Origen that she had found a young Greek whowould prove to him that a heathen who had gone through the school ofsuffering with a pure and compassionate heart needed but a sign, a wordof flame, to recognize at once the beatitude of Christianity and long tobe baptized. And here she discovered the maiden of whom she had suchfair hopes, with a smile on her lips and beaming looks, while so manyinnocent men were being slaughtered, as though this were a joy to her!

What had become of the girl's soft, tender heart, which but yesterday hadbeen ready for self-sacrifice if only she might secure the well-being ofthose she loved? Was she, Euryale, in her dotage, that she could be sodeceived by a child?

Her heart beat faster with disappointment; and yet she would not condemnthe sinner unheard. So, with a swift impulse she took the roll up fromMelissa's lap, and her voice was sorrowful rather than severe as sheexclaimed:

"I had hoped, my child, that these scriptures might prove to you, as toso many before you, a key to open the gates of eternal truth. I thoughtthat they would comfort you, and teach you to love the sublime Beingwhose exemplary life and pathetic death are no longer unknown to you, since Johanna told you the tale. Nay, I believed that they mightpresently arouse in you the desire to join us who--"

But here she stopped, for Melissa had fallen on her neck, and whileEuryale, much amazed, tried to release herself from her embrace, the girlcried out, half laughing and half in tears:

"It has all come about as you expected! I will live and die faithful tothat sublime Saviour, whom I love. I am one of you--yes, mother, now--even before the baptism I long for. For I was weary and heavy-ladenabove any, and the word of the Lord hath refreshed me. This book hastaught me that there is but one path to true happiness, and it is thatwhich is shown us by Jesus Christ. O lady, how much fairer would ourlife on earth be if what is written here concerning blessedness werestamped on every heart! I feel as though in this hour I had been bornagain. I do not know myself; and how is it possible that a poor child ofman, in such fearful straits and peril as I, and after such a scene ofhorror, should feel so thankful and so full of the purest gladness?"

The matron clasped her closely in her arms, and her tears bedewed thegirl's face while she kissed her again and again; and the cheerfulnesswhich had just now hurt her so deeply she now regarded as a beautifulmiracle. 

Her time was limited, for she was watched; and she had seized the half-hour during which the townguard had been mustered in the square to reportprogress. So Melissa had to be brief, and in a few hasty words she toldher friend all that she had seen and heard from her high window, and howthe gospel of Matthew had been to her glad tidings; how it had given hercomfort and filled her soul with infinite happiness in this the mostterrible hour of her life. At this, Euryale also forgot the horrorswhich surrounded them, till Melissa called her back to the dreadfulpresent; for, with bowed head and in deep anxiety, she desired to knowwhether her friend knew anything of her relations and Diodoros. 

The matron had a painful struggle with herself. It grieved her toinflict anxiety on Melissa's heart, as she stood before her eyes like oneof the maidens robed in white and going to be baptized, to whom presentswere given on the festive occasion, and who were carefully sheltered fromall that could disturb them and destroy the silent, holy joy of theirsouls. And yet the question must be answered: so she said that of theother two she knew nothing, any more than of Berenike and Diodoros, but that of Philip she had bad news. He was a noble man, and, notwithstanding his errors in the search after truth, well worthy ofpity. At this, Melissa in great alarm begged to be told what hadhappened to her brother, and the lady Euryale confessed that he no longerwalked among the living, but she did not relate the manner of his death;and she bade the weeping girl to seek for comfort from the Friend of allwho grieve and whom she now knew; but to keep herself prepared for theworst, in full assurance that none are tried beyond what they are able tobear, for that the fury of the bloodthirsty tyrant hung like a blackcloud over Alexandria and its inhabitants. She herself, merely by comingto Melissa, exposed herself to great danger, and she could not see heragain till the morrow. To Melissa's inquiry as to whether it was herrefusal to be his which had brought such a fearful fate on the innocentyouth of Alexandria, Euryale could reply in the negative; for she hadheard from her husband that it was a foul epigram written by a pupil ofthe Museum which had led to Caesar's outbreak of rage. 

With a few soothing words she pointed to a basket of food which she hadbrought with her, showed the girl once more the secret door, and embracedher at parting as fondly as though Heaven had restored to her in Melissathe daughter she had lost. 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

Melissa was once more alone. 

She now knew that Philip walked no longer among the living. He must havefallen a victim to the fury of the monster, but the thought that he mighthave been slain for her sake left her mind no peace. 

She felt that with the death of this youth--so gifted, and so dear toher--a corner-stone had been torn from the paternal house. 

In the loving circle that surrounded her, death had made another gapwhich yawned before her, dismal and void. 

One storm more, and what was left standing would fall with the rest. 

Her tears flowed fast, and the torturing thought that the emperor hadslain her brother as a punishment for his sister's flight pierced her tothe heart. 

Now she belonged indeed to the afflicted and oppressed; and as yesterday, in the trouble of her soul, she had called upon Jesus Christ, though shescarcely knew of Him then, so now she lifted up her heart to Him who hadbecome her friend, praying to Him to remember His promise of comfort whenshe came to Him weary and heavy-laden. 

And while she tried to realize the nature of the Saviour who had laiddown His life for others, she remembered all she had dared for her fatherand brothers, and what fate had been her's during the time since; and shefelt she might acknowledge to herself that even if Philip had met hisdeath because of Caracalla's anger toward her, at any rate she wouldnever have approached Caesar had she not wanted to save her father andbrothers. She had never glossed over any wrong-doing of her own; but heropen and truthful nature was just as little inclined to the torment ofself-reproach when she was not absolutely certain of having committed afault. 

In this case she was not quite sure of herself; but she now remembered asaying of Euryale and Andreas which she had not understood before. JesusChrist, it said, had taken upon Himself the sins of the world. If sheunderstood its meaning aright, the merciful Lord would surely forgive hera sin which she had committed unwittingly and in no wise for her ownadvantage. Her prayer grew more and more to be a discourse with her new-found friend; and, as she finished, she felt absolutely sure that He atleast understood her and was not angry with her. This reassured her, buther cheerfulness had fled, and she could read no more. 

Deeply troubled, and more and more distressed as time went on by newdisturbing thoughts, she hurriedly paced from side to side of the long, narrow chamber in the gathering darkness. The revolting images aroundher began to affect her unbearably once more. Near her chamber, to thewest, lay the race-course with its horrible scenes; so she turned to theeastern end that looked out upon the street of Hermes, where the sightcould scarcely be so terrible as from the windows at the opposite end. But she was mistaken; for, looking down upon the pavement, she perceivedthat this, too, swam with blood, and that the ground was covered withcorpses. 

Seized with a sudden horror, she flew back into the middle of the longroom. There she remained standing, for the scene of slaughter in thewest was still more appalling than that from which she had just fled. She could not help wondering who could here have fallen a victim to thetyrant after he had swept all the youth of the city off the face of theearth. 

The evening sun cast long shafts of golden light across the race-courseand in at the western window, and Melissa knew how quickly the night fellin Alexandria. If she wished to find out who they were who had beensacrificed to the fury of the tyrant, it must be done at once, for theimmense building of the temple already cast long shadows. Determined toforce herself to look out, she walked quickly to the eastern window andgazed below. But it was some moments before she had the fortitude todistinguish one form from another; they melted before her reluctant eyesinto one repulsive mass. 

At last she succeeded in looking more calmly and critically. 

Not heaped on one another as on the racecourse, hundreds of Caracalla'svictims lay scattered separately over the open square as far as theentrance to the street of Hermes. Here lay an old man with a thickbeard, probably a Syrian or a Jew; there, his dress betraying him, aseaman; and farther on-no, she could not be mistaken--the youthful corpsethat lay so motionless just beneath the window was that of Myrtilos, afriend of Philip, and, like him, a member of the Museum. 

In a fresh fit of terror she was going to flee again into her dreadfulhiding-place, when she caught sight of a figure leaning against the basinof the beautiful marble fountain just in front of the eastern side-doorof the Serapeum, and immediately below her. The figure moved, and couldtherefore only be wounded, not dead; and round the head was bound a whitecloth, reminding her of her beloved, and thereby attracting herattention. The youth moved again, turning his face upward, and with alow cry she leaned farther forward and gazed and gazed, unmindful of thedanger of being seen and falling a victim to the tyrant's fury. Thewounded, living man-there, he had moved again--was no other thanDiodoros, her lover!

Till the last glimmer of light disappeared she stood at the window withbated breath, and eyes fixed upon him. No faintest movement of hisescaped her, and at each one, trembling with awakening hope, she thankedHeaven and prayed for his rescue. At length the growing darkness hid himfrom her sight. With every instant the night deepened, and withoutthinking, without stopping to reflect--driven on by one absorbingthought--she felt her way back to her couch, beside which stood the lampand fire-stick, and lighted the wick; then, inspired with new courage atthe thought of rescuing her lover from death, she considered for a momentwhat had best be done. 

It was easy for her to get out. She had a little money with her; on herpeplos she wore a clasp that had once belonged to her mother, with twogems in it from her father's hand, and on her rounded arm a goldencirclet. With these she could buy help. The only thing now was todisguise herself. 

On the great, smoke-blackened metal plate over which those mystics passedwho had to walk through fire, there lay plenty of charcoal, and yonderhung robes of every description. The next moment she had thrown off herown, in order to blacken her glistening white limbs and her face withsoot. Among the sewing materials which the lady Euryale had laid besidethe scrolls was a pair of scissors. These the girl seized, and withquick, remorseless hand cut off the long, thick locks that were herbrother's and her lover's delight. Then she chose out a chiton, which, reaching only to her knees, gave her the appearance of a boy. Her breathcame fast and her hands trembled, but she was already on her way to thesecret door through which she should flee from this place of horror, whenshe came to a standstill, shaking her head gently. She had looked aroundher, and the wild disorder she was leaving behind her in the little roomwent against her womanly feelings. But though this feeling would not initself have kept her back, it warned her to steady her mind beforeleaving the refuge her friend had accorded to her. Thoughtful, andaccustomed to have regard for others, she realized at once how dangerousit might prove to Euryale if these unmistakable traces of her presencethere should be discovered by an enemy. The kindness of her motherlyfriend should not bring misfortune upon her. With active presence ofmind she gathered up her garments from the floor, swept the long locks ofhair together, and threw them all, with the sewing and the basket thathad contained the food, into the stove on the hearth, and set themalight. The scissors she took with her as a weapon in case of need. 

Then, laying the books of the gospels beside the other manuscripts, andcasting a last look round to assure herself that every sign of herpresence had been destroyed, she addressed one more prayer to the tenderComforter of the afflicted, who has promised to save those that are indanger. 

She then opened the secret door. 

With a beating heart, and yet far more conscious of the desire to saveher lover while there was yet time than of the danger into which she wasrushing headlong, she flitted down the hidden staircase as lightly as achild at play. So much time had been lost in clearing the room--and yetshe could not have left it so!

She had not forgotten where to press, so that the heavy stone whichclosed the entrance should move aside; but as she sprang from the laststep her lamp had blown out, and blackest darkness concealed the surfaceof the smooth granite wall which lay between her and the street. 

What if, when she got outside, she should be seen by the lictors orspies?

At this thought fear overcame her for the first time. As she felt aboutthe door her hands trembled and beads of perspiration stood upon herbrow. But she must go to her wounded lover! When any one was bleedingto death every moment might bring the terrible "too late. " It meantDiodoros's death if she did not succeed in opening the granite slab. 

She took her hands from the stone and forced herself, with the wholestrength of her will, to be calm. 

Where had been the place by pressing which the granite might be moved?

It must have been high up on the right side. She carefully followed withher fingers the groove in which the stone lay, and having recalled itsshape by her sense of touch, she began her search anew. Suddenly shefelt something beneath her finger-tips that was colder than the stone. She had found the metal bolt! With a deep breath, and without stoppingto think of what might be before her, she pressed the spring; the slabturned-one step-and she was in the street between the racecourse and theSerapeum. 

All was still around her. Not a sound was to be heard except from thesquare to the north of the temple, where all who carried arms hadgathered together to enjoy the wine which flowed in streams as a mark ofthe emperor's approbation, and from the inner circle of the race-coursevoices were audible. Of the citizens not one dared show himself in thestreets, although the butchery had ceased at sundown. All who did notcarry the imperial arms had shut themselves up in their houses, and thestreets and squares were deserted since the soldiers had assembled infront of the Serapeum. 

No one noticed Melissa. The dangers that threatened her from afartroubled her but little. She only knew that she must go on--go on asfast as her feet would carry her, if she were to reach her loved one intime. 

Skirting the south side of the temple, in order to get to the fountain, her chief thought was to keep in its shadow. The moon had not yet risen, and they had forgotten to light either the pitch-pans or the torcheswhich usually burned in front of the south facade of the temple. Theyhad been too busy with other matters to-day, and now they needed allhands in heaping the bodies together. The men whose voices soundedacross to her from the race-course had already begun the work. On--shemust hurry on!

But it was not so easy as last night. Her light sandals were wetthrough, and there was ever a fresh impediment in her way. She knew whatit was that had wetted her foot--blood--noble, human blood--and everyobstacle against which she stumbled was a human body. But she would notlet herself dwell upon it, and hurried on as though they were but waterand stones, ever seeing before her the image of the wounded youth wholeaned against the basin. 

Thus she reached the east side of the temple. Already she could hear thesplashing of the fountain, she saw the marble gleaming through thedarkness, and began seeking for the spot where she had seen her lover. She suddenly stopped short; at the same time as herself, lights faint andbright were coming along from the south, from the entrance of the streetthat led to Rhakotis, and down to the water. She was in the middle ofthe street, without a possibility of concealing herself except in one ofthe niches of the Serapeum. 

Should she abandon him? She must go on, and to seek protection in theouter wall of the temple meant turning back. So she stood still and heldher breath as she watched the advancing lights. Now they stopped. Sheheard the rattle of arms and men's voices. The lantern-bearers werebeing detained by the watch. They were the first soldiers she had seen, the others being engaged in drinking, or in the work on the race-course. Would the soldiers find her, too? But, no! They moved on, the torch-bearers in front, toward the street of Hermes. 

Who were those people who went wandering about among the slain, turningfirst to this side and then to that, as if searching for something?

They could not be robbing the dead, or the watch would have seized them. 

Now they came quite close to her, and she trembled with fright, for oneof them was a soldier. The light of the lantern shone upon his armor. He went before a man and two lads who were following a laden ass, and inone of them Melissa recognized with beating heart a garden slave ofPolybius, who had often done her a service. 

And now she took courage to look more closely at the man--and it was--yes, even in the peasant's clothes he wore he could not deceive her quickeyes--it was Andreas!

She felt that every breath that came from her young bosom must be aprayer of thanksgiving; nor was it long before the freedman recognizedMelissa in the light-footed black boy who seemed to spring from the earthin order to show them the way, and he, too, felt as if a miracle had beenwrought. 

Like fair flowers that spring up round a scaffold over which the hungryravens croak and hover, so here, in the midst of death and horror, joyand hope began to blossom in thankful hearts. Diodoros lived! No word-only a fleeting pressure of the hand and a quick look passed between theelderly man and the maiden--who looked like a boy scarcely passed hisschool-days--to show what they felt as they knelt beside the woundedyouth and bound up the deep gash in his shoulder dealt by the sword thathad felled him. 

A little while afterward, Andreas drew from the basket which the asscarried, and from which he had already taken bandages and medicine, alight litter of matting. He then lifted Melissa on to the back of thebeast of burden, and they all moved onward. 

The sights that surrounded them as long as they were near the Serapeumforced her to close her eyes, especially when the ass had to walk roundsome obstruction, or when it and its guide waded through slimy pools. She could not forget that they were red, nor whence they came; and thisride brought her moments in which she thought to expire of shudderinghorror and sorrow and wrath. 

Not till they reached a quiet lane in Rhakotis, where they could advancewithout let or hindrance, did she open her eyes. But a strange, heavypain oppressed her that she had never felt before, and her head burned sothat she could scarcely see Andreas and the two slaves, who, strong inthe joy of knowing that their young lord was alive, carried Diodorossteadily along in the litter. The soldier--it was the centurionMartialis, who had been banished to the Pontus--still accompanied them, but Melissa's aching head pained her so much that she did not think ofasking who he was or why he was with them. 

Once or twice she felt impelled to ask whither they were taking her, butshe had not the power to raise her voice. When Andreas came to her sideand pointed to the centurion, saying that without him he would never havesucceeded in saving her beloved, she heard it only as a hollow murmur, without any consciousness of its meaning. Indeed, she wished rather thatthe freedman would keep silent when he began explaining his opportunearrival at the fountain, which must seem such a miracle to her. 

The slave-brand on his arm had enabled him to penetrate into the house ofSeleukus, where he hoped to obtain news of her. There Johanna had ledhim to Alexander, and with the Aurelians he had found the centurion andthe slave Argutis. Argutis had just returned from the lady Euryale, andswore that he had seen the wounded Diodoros. Andreas had then declaredhis intention of bringing the son of his former master to a place ofsafety, and the centurion had been prevailed upon by the young tribunesto open a way for the freedman through the sentinels. The gardeners ofPolybius, with their ass, had been detained in an inn on this side ofLake Mareotis by the closing of the harbor, and Andreas had taken theprecaution of making use of them. Had it not been for the centurion, whowas known to the other soldiers, the watch would never have allowed thefreedman to get so far as the fountain; Andreas therefore begged Melissato thank their preserver. But his words fell upon her ear unnoticed, andwhen the strange soldier left her to devote himself again to Diodoros shebreathed more freely, for his rapidly spoken words hurt her. 

If he would only not come again--only not speak to her!

She had even ceased to look for her lover. Her one desire was to see andhear nothing. When she did force herself to raise her heavy, throbbinglids, she noticed that they were passing poor-looking houses which shenever remembered seeing before. She fancied, however, from the damp windthat blew in her face and relieved her burning head, that they must benearing the lake or the sea. Surely that was a fishing-net hangingyonder on the fence round a but on which the light of the lantern fell. But perhaps it was something quite different, for the images that passedbefore her heavy eyes began to mingle confusedly, to repeat themselves, and be surrounded by a ring of rainbow colors. Her head had grown soheavy that her mind had lost all sense of hope or fear; only her thoughtsstirred faintly as the procession moved on and on through the darkness, without a pause for rest. 

When they had passed the last of the huts she managed to look upward. 

The evening star stood out clear against the sky, and she seemed to seethe other stars revolving quickly round it. 

Her mouth was painful and parched, and more than once she had been seizedwith giddiness, which forced her to hold tightly to the saddle. 

Now they stopped beside a large piece of water, and she felt strangelywell and light of heart. That must be the dear, familiar lake. Andthere stood Agatha waving to her, and at her side the lady Euryale underthe spreading shade of a mighty palm. Bright sunshine flooded them both, and yet it was the night; for there was the evening star beaming downupon her. 

How could that be?

Yet, when she tried to understand it all, her head pained her so, and sheturned so giddy, that she clutched the neck of the ass to save herselffrom falling. 

When she raised herself again she saw a large boat, out of which severalpeople came to meet them, the foremost of them a tall man in a long, white garment. That was no dream, she was quite certain. And yet-whydid the lantern which one of them held aloft burn her face so much andnot his? Oh, how it burned!

Everything turned in a circle round her, and grew dark before her eyes. 

But not for long; suddenly it became light as day, and she heard a deepand friendly voice calling her by name. She answered without fear, "Heream I, " and saw before her a stranger in a long, white robe, of lofty yetgentle aspect, just as she had imagined the crucified Saviour of theChristians, and in her ear sounded the loving message with which he bidsthe weary and heavy-laden come to him that he may give them rest. 

How gentle, how consoling, and how full of gracious promise were thewords, and how gladly would she do his bidding! "Here am I!" she criedagain, and saw the arms of the white-robed man stretched out to receiveher. She staggered toward him, and felt a firm and manly hand clasphers, and then rest in blessing on her throbbing brow. All grew darkagain before her, and she saw and heard no more. 

Andreas had lifted her from the ass and supported her, while the twoChristians thanked the soldier for his timely aid. 

Having assured them that he had had no thought of helping them, but onlyof obeying his superior officers, he disappeared into the night, and thefreedman lifted Melissa in his strong arms and carried her down to Zeno'sboat, which was waiting for them. 

"Her mind wanders, " said the freedman, with a loving look at the preciousburden in his arms. "Her spirit is strong, but the shocks she hassustained this day have been too much for her. "Thou wilt give me rest, "were her last words before losing consciousness. Can she have beenthinking of the promise of the Saviour?"

"If not, " answered the deep, musical voice of Zeno, "we will show her Himwho called the little children to Him, and the weary and heavy-laden. She belongs to them, and she will see that the Lord fulfills what He solovingly promises. "

"One of Christ's sayings, and repeated by Paul in his letter to theGalatians, has taken great hold upon her, " added Andreas, "and I thinkthat in these days of terror, for her, too, the fullness of time hascome. "

As he spoke he stepped on to the plank which led to the boat from theshore: Diodoros had already been placed on board. When Andreas laid thegirl on the cushioned seat in the little cabin, he exclaimed, with a sighof relief, "Now we are safe!"

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He has the gift of being easily consoled