A THORNY PATH

By Georg Ebers

Volume 12. 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

Caracalla's evening meal was ended, and for years past his friends hadnever seen the gloomy monarch in so mad a mood. The high-priest ofSerapis, with Dio Cassius the senator, and a few others of his suite, hadnot indeed appeared at table; but the priest of Alexander, the prefectMacrinus, his favorites Theocritus, Pandion, Antigonus, and others oftheir kidney, had crowded round him, had drunk to his health, and wishedhim joy of his glorious revenge. 

Everything which legend or history had recorded of similar deeds wascompared with this day's work, and it was agreed that it transcended themall. This delighted the half-drunken monarch. To-day, he declared withflashing eyes, and not till to-day, he had dared to be entirely what Fatehad called him to be--at once the judge and the executioner of anaccursed and degenerate race. As Titus had been named "the Good, " so hewould be called "the Terrible. " And this day had secured him that grandname, so pleasing to his inmost heart. 

"Hail to the benevolent sovereign who would fain be terrible!" criedTheocritus, raising his cup; and the rest of the guests echoed him. 

Then the number of the slain was discussed. No one could estimate itexactly. Zminis, the only man who could have seen everything, had notappeared: Fifty, sixty, seventy thousand Alexandrians were supposed tohave suffered death; Macrinus, however, asserted that there must havebeen more than a hundred thousand, and Caracalla rewarded him for hisstatement by exclaiming loudly "Splendid! grand! Hardly comprehensibleby the vulgar mind! But, even so, it is not the end of what I mean togive them. To-day I have racked their limbs; but I have yet to strikethem to the heart, as they have stricken me!"

He ceased, and after a short pause repeated unhesitatingly, and as thoughby a sudden impulse, the lines with which Euripides ends several of histragedies:

 "Jove in high heaven dispenses various fates; And now the gods shower blessings which our hope Dared not aspire to, now control the ills We deemed inevitable. Thus the god To these hath given an end we never thought. "

 --Potter's translation. 

And this was the end of the revolting scene, for, as he spoke, Caesarpushed away his cup and sat staring into vacancy, so pale that hisphysician, foreseeing a fresh attack, brought out his medicine vial. 

The praetorian prefect gave a signal to the rest that they should notnotice the change in their imperial host, and he did his best to keep theconversation going, till Caracalla, after a long pause, wiped his browand exclaimed hoarsely: "What has become of the Egyptian? He was tobring in the living prisoners--the living, I say! Let him bring methem. "

He struck the table by his couch violently with his fist; and then, as ifthe clatter of the metal vessels on it had brought him to himself, headded, meditatively: "A hundred thousand! If they burned their deadhere, it would take a forest to reduce them to ashes. "

"This day will cost him dear enough as it is, " the high-priest ofAlexander whispered; he, as idiologos, having to deposit the tribute fromthe temples and their estates in the imperial treasury. He addressed hisneighbor, old Julius Paulinus, who replied:

"Charon is doing the best business to-day. A hundred thousand obolus ina few hours. If Tarautas reigns over us much longer, I will farm hisferry!"

During this whispered dialogue Theocritus the favorite was assuringCaesar in a loud voice that the possessions of the victims would sufficefor any form of interment, and an ample number of thank-offerings intothe bargain. 

"An offering!" echoed Caracalla, and he pointed to a short sword whichlay beside him on the couch. "That helped in the work. My fatherwielded it in many a fight, and I have not let it rust. Still, I doubtwhether in my hands and his together it ever before yesterday slaughtereda hundred thousand. "

He looked round for the high-priest of Serapis, and after seeking him invain among the guests, he exclaimed:

"The revered Timotheus withdraws his countenance from us to-day. Yet itwas to his god that I dedicated the work of vengeance. He laments theloss of worshipers to great Serapis, as you, Vertinus"--and he turned tothe idiologos--"regret the slain tax-payers. Well, you are thinking ofmy loss or gain, and that I can not but praise. Your colleague in theservice of Serapis has nothing to care for but the honor of his god; buthe does not succeed in rising to the occasion. Poor wretch! I willgive him a lesson. Here Epagathos, and you, Claudius--go at once toTimotheus; carry him this sword. I devote it to his god. It is to bepreserved in his holy of holies, in memory of the greatest act ofvengeance ever known. If Timotheus should refuse the gift--But no, he has sense--he knows me!"

He paused, and turned to look at Macrinus, who had risen to speak to someofficials and soldiers who had entered the room. They brought the newsthat the Parthian envoys had broken off all negotiations, and had leftthe city in the afternoon. They would enter into no alliance, and wereprepared to meet the Roman army. 

Macrinus repeated this to Caesar with a shrug of his shoulders, but hewithheld the remark added by the venerable elder of the ambassadors, thatthey did not fear a foe who by so vile a deed had incurred the wrath ofthe gods. 

"Then it is war with the Parthians!" cried Caracalla, and his eyesflashed. "My breast-plated favorites will rejoice. "

But then he looked grave, and inquired: "They are leaving the town, yousay? But are they birds? The gates and harbor are closed. "

"A small Phoenician vessel stole out just before sundown between ourguard-ships, " was the reply. "Curse it!" broke from Caesar's lips in aloud voice, and, after a brief dialogue in an undertone with the prefect, he desired to have papyrus and writing materials brought to him. Hehimself must inform the senate of what had occurred, and he did so in afew words. 

He did not know the number of the slain, and he did not think it worthwhile to make a rough estimate. All the Alexandrians, he said, had infact merited death. A swift trireme was to carry the letter to Ostia atdaybreak. 

He did not, indeed, ask the opinion of the senate, and yet he felt thatit would be better that news of the day's events should reach the curiaunder his own hand than through the distorting medium of rumor. 

Nor did Macrinus impress on him, as usual, that he should give hisdispatch a respectful form. This crime, if anything, might help him tothe fulfillment of the Magian's prophecy. 

As Caesar was rolling up his missive, the long-expected Zminis came intothe room. He had attired himself splendidly, and bore the insignia ofhis new office. He humbly begged to be pardoned for his long delay. Hehad had to make his outer man fit to appear among Caesar's guests, for--as he boastfully explained--he himself had waded in blood, and in thecourt-yard of the Museum the red life-juice of the Alexandrians hadreached above his horse's knees. The number of the dead, he declaredwith sickening pride, was above a hundred thousand, as estimated by theprefect. 

"Then we will call it eleven myriad, " Caracalla broke in. "Now, we havehad enough of the dead. Bring in the living. "

"Whom?" asked the Egyptian, in surprise. Hereupon Caesar's eyelids beganto quiver, and in a threatening tone he reminded his bloody-handed toolof those whom he had ordered him to take alive. Still Zminis was silent, and Caesar furiously shrieked his demand as to whether by his blunderingHeron's daughter had escaped; whether he could not produce the gem-cutterand his son. The blood-stained butcher then perceived that Caesar'smurderous sword might be turned against him also. Still, he was preparedto defend himself by every means in his power. His brain was inventive, and, seeing that the fault for which he would least easily be forgivenwas the failure to capture Melissa, he tried to screen himself by a lie. Relying on an incident which he himself had witnessed, he began: "I feltcertain of securing the gem-cutter's pretty daughter, for my men hadsurrounded his house. But it had come to the ears of these Alexandrianscoundrels that a son of Heron's, a painter, and his sister, had betrayedtheir fellow-citizens and excited your wrath. It was to them that theyascribed the punishment which I executed upon them in your name. Thisrabble have no notion of reflection; before we could hinder them they hadrushed on the innocent dwelling. They flung fire-brands into it, burnedit, and tore it down. Any one who was within perished, and thus thedaughter of Heron died. That is, unfortunately, proved. I can take theold man and his son tomorrow. To-day I have had so much to do that therehas not been time to bind the sheaves. It is said that they had escapedbefore the mob rushed on the house. "

"And the gem-cutter's daughter?" asked Caracalla, in a trembling voice. "You are sure she was burned in the building?"

"As sure as that I have zealously endeavored to let the Alexandrians feelyour avenging hand, " replied the Egyptian resolutely, and with a boldface he confirmed his he. "I have here the jewel she wore on her arm. It was found on the charred body in the cellar. Adventus, yourchamberlain, says that Melissa received it yesterday as a gift from you. Here it is. "

And he handed Caracalla the serpent-shaped bracelet which Caesar had sentto his sweetheart before setting out for the Circus. The fire haddamaged it, but there was no mistaking it. It had been found beneath theruins on a human arm, and Zminis had only learned from the chamberlain, to whom he had shown it, that it had belonged to the daughter of Heron. 

"Even the features of the corpse, " Zminis added, "were stillrecognizable. "

"The corpse!" Caesar echoed gloomily. "And it was the Alexandrians, yousay, who destroyed the house?"

"Yes, my lord; a raging mob, and mingled with them men of every race-Jews, Greeks, Syrians, what not. Most of them had lost a father, a son, or a brother, sent to Hades by your vengeance. Their wildest curses werefor Alexander, the painter, who in fact had played the spy for you. Butthe Macedonian phalanx arrived at the right moment. They killed most ofthem and took some prisoners. You can see them yourself in the morning. As regards the wife of Seleukus--"

"Well, " exclaimed Caesar, and his eye brightened again. 

"She fell a victim to the clumsiness of the praetorians. "

"Indeed!" interrupted the legate Quintus Flavius Nobilior, who hadgranted Alexander's life to the prayer of the twins Aurelius; andMacrinus also forbade any insulting observations as to the blamelesstroops whom he had the honor to command. 

But the Egyptian was not to be checked; he went on eagerly: "Pardon, mylords. It is perfectly certain, nevertheless, that it was a praetorian--his name is Rufus, and he belongs to the second cohort--who pierced thelady Berenike with his spear. "

Flavius here begged to be allowed to speak, and reported how Berenike hadsought and found her end. And he did so as though he were narrating thedeath of a heroine, but he added, in a tone of disapproval: "Unhappily, the misguided woman died with a curse on you, great Caesar, on hertreasonable lips. "

"And this female hero finds her Homer in you!" cried Caesar. "We willspeak together again, my Quintus. "

He raised a brimming cup to his lips and emptied it at a draught; then, setting it on the table with such violence that it rang, he exclaimed"Then you have brought me none of those whom I commanded you to capture?Even the feeble girl who had not quitted her father's house you allowedto be murdered by those coarse monsters! And you think I shall look onyou with favor? By this time to-morrow the gem-cutter and his sonAlexander are here before me, or by the head of my divine father you goto the wild beasts in the Circus. "

"They will not eat such as he, " observed old Julius Paulinus, and Caesarnodded approvingly. The Egyptian shuddered, for this imperial nod showedhim by how slender a thread his life hung. 

In a flash he reflected whither he might fly if he should fail to findthis hated couple. If, after all, he should discover Melissa alive, somuch the better. Then, he might have been mistaken in identifying thebody; some slave girl might have stolen the bracelet and put it on beforethe house was burned down. He knew for a fact that the charred corpse ofwhich he had spoken was that of a street wench who had rushed among theforemost into the house of the much-envied imperial favorite--thetraitress--and had met her death in the spreading flames. 

Zminis had but a moment to rack his inventive and prudent brain, but healready had thought of something which might perhaps influence Caesar inhis favor. Of all the Alexandrians, the members of the Museum were thosewhom Caracalla hated most. He had been particularly enjoined not tospare one of them; and in the course of the ride which Caesar, attendedby the armed troopers of Arsinoe, had taken through the streets streamingwith blood, he had stayed longest gazing at the heap of corpses in thecourt-yard of the Museum. In the portico, a colonnade copied from theStoa at Athens, whither a dozen or so of the philosophers had fled whenattacked, he had even stabbed several with his own hand. The blood onthe sword which Caracalla had dedicated to Serapis had been shed at theMuseum. 

The Egyptian had himself led the massacre here, and had seen that it wasthoroughly effectual. The mention of those slaughtered hair-splittersmust, if anything, be likely to mitigate Caesar's wrath; so no sooner hadthe applause died away with which the proconsul's jest at his expense hadbeen received, than Zminis began to give his report of the great massacrein the Museum. He could boast of having spared scarcely one of the emptyword-pickers with whom the epigrams against Caesar and his mother hadoriginated. Teachers and pupils, even the domestic officials, had beenovertaken by the insulted sovereign's vengeance. Nothing was left butthe stones of that great institution, which had indeed long outlived itsfame. The Numidians who had helped in the work had been drunk withblood, and had forced their way even into the physician's lecture-roomsand the hospital adjoining. There, too, they had given no quarter; andamong the sufferers who had been carried thither to be healed they hadfound Tarautas, the wounded gladiator. A Numidian, the youngest of thelegion, a beardless youth, had pinned the terrible conqueror of lions andmen to the bed with his spear, and then, with the same weapon, hadreleased at least a dozen of his fellow-sufferers from their pain. 

As he told his story the Egyptian stood staring into vacancy, as thoughhe saw it all, and the whites of his eyeballs gleamed more hideously thanever out of his swarthy face. The lean, sallow wretch stood beforeCaesar like a talking corpse, and did not observe the effect hisnarrative of the gladiator's death was producing. But he soon foundout. While he was yet speaking, Caracalla, leaning on the table by hiscouch with both hands, fixed his eyes on his face, without a word. 

Then he suddenly sprang up, and, beside himself with rage, he interruptedthe terrified Egyptian and railed at him furiously:

"My Tarautas, who had so narrowly escaped death! The bravest hero of hiskind basely murdered on his sick-bed, by a barbarian, a beardlessboy! And you, you loathsome jackal, could allow it? This deed--and youknow it, villain--will be set down to my score. It will be brought upagainst me to the end of my days in Rome, in the provinces, everywhere. I shall be cursed for your crime wherever there is a human heart to throband feel, and a human tongue to speak. And I--when did I ever order youto slake your thirst for blood in that of the sick and suffering? Never!I could never have done such a thing! I even told you to spare thewomen and helpless slaves. You are all witnesses, But you all hear me--I will punish the murderer of the wretched sick! I will avenge you, foully murdered, brave, noble Tarautas!--Here, lictors! Bind him--awaywith him to the Circus with the criminals thrown to the wild beasts! Heallowed the girl whose life I bade him spare to be burned to death beforehis eyes, and the hapless sick were slain at his command by a beardlessboy!--And Tarautas! I valued him as I do all who are superior to theirkind; I cared for him. He was wounded for our entertainment, my friends. Poor fellow--poor, brave Tarautas!"

He here broke into loud sobs, and it was so unheard-of, soincomprehensible a thing that this man should weep who, even at hisfather's death had not shed a tear, that Julius Paulinus himself heldhis mocking tongue. 

The rest of the spectators also kept anxious and uneasy silence while thelictors bound Zminis's hands, and, in spite of his attempts to raise hisvoice once more in self-defense, dragged him away and thrust him outacross the threshold of the dining-hall. The door closed behind him, and no applause followed, though every one approved of the Egyptian'scondemnation, for Caracalla was still weeping. 

Was it possible that these tears could be shed for sick people whom hedid not know, and for the coarse gladiator, the butcher of men andbeasts, who had had nothing to give Caesar but a few hours of excitementat the intoxicating performances in the arena? So it must be; for fromtime to time Caracalla moaned softly, "Those unhappy sick!" or"Poor Tarautas!"

And, indeed, at this moment Caracalla himself could not have said whom hewas lamenting. He had in the Circus staked his life on that of Tarautas, and when he shed tears over his memory it was certainly less for thegladiator's sake than over the approaching end of his own existence, towhich he looked forward in consequence of Tarautas's death. But he hadoften been near the gates of Hades in the battle-field with calmindifference; and now, while he thus bewailed the sick and Tarautas withbitter lamentations, in his mind he saw no sick-bed, nor, indeed, thestunted form of the braggart hero of the arena, but the slender, gracefulfigure of a sweet girl, and a blackened, charred arm on which glittered agolden armlet. 

That woman! Treacherous, shameless, but how lovely and beloved! Thatwoman, under his eyes, as it were, was swept out of the land of theliving; and with her, with Melissa, the only girl for whom his heart hadever throbbed faster, the miracle-worker who had possessed the uniquepower of exorcising his torments, whose love--for so he still chose tobelieve, though he had always refused her petitions that he would showmercy--whose love would have given him strength to become a benefactor toall mankind, a second Trajan or Titus. He had quite forgotten that hehad intended her to meet a disgraceful end in the arena under fearfultorments, if she had been brought to him a prisoner. He felt as thoughthe fate of Roxana, with whom his most cherished dream had perished, hadquite broken his heart; and it was Melissa whom he really bewailed, withthe gladiator's name on his lips and the jewel before his eyes which hadbeen his gift, and which she had worn on her arm even in death. But heere long controlled this display of feeling, ashamed to shed tears forher who had cheated him and who had fled from his love. Only once moredid he sob aloud. Then he raised himself, and while holding hishandkerchief to his eyes he addressed the company with theatrical pathos:

"Yes, my friends, tell whom you will that you have seen Bassianus weep;but add that his tears flowed from grief at the necessity for punishingso many of his subjects with such rigor. Say, too, that Caesar wept withpity and indignation. For what good man would not be moved to sorrow atseeing the sick and wounded thus maltreated? What humane heart couldrefrain from loud lamentations at the sight of barbarity which is notwithheld from laying a murderous hand even on the sacred anguish of thesick and wounded? Defend me, then, against those Romans who may shrugtheir shoulders over the weakness of a weeping Caesar--the Terrible. Myoffice demands severity; and yet, my friends, I am not ashamed of thesetears. "

With this he took leave of his guests and retired to rest, and those whoremained were soon agreed that every word of this speech, as well asCaesar's tears, were rank hypocrisy. The mime Theocritus admired hissovereign in all sincerity, for how rarely could even the greatest actorssucceed in forcing from their eyes, by sheer determination, a flood ofreal, warm tears--he had seen them flow. As Caesar quitted the room, his hand on the lion's mane, the praetor Priscillianus whispered to Cilo:

"Your disciple has been taking lessons here of the weeping crocodile. "

 . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. 

Out on the great square the soldiers were resting after the day's bloodywork. They had lighted large fires in front of the most sacred sanctuaryof a great city, as though they were in the open field. Round each ofthese, foot and horse soldiers lay or squatted on the ground, accordingto their companies; and over the wine allowed them by Caesar they toldeach other the hideous experiences of the day, which even those who hadgrown rich by it could not think of without disgust. Gold and silvercups, the plunder of the city, circulated round those camp-fires and thejuice of the vine was poured into them out of jugs of precious metal. Tongues were wagging fast, for, though there was indeed but one opinionas to what had been done, there were mercenaries enough and ambitiouspretenders who could dare to defend it. Every word might reach thesovereign's ears, and the day might bring promotion as well as gold andbooty. Even the calmest were still in some excitement over the massacrethey had helped in; the plunder was discussed, and barter and exchangewere eagerly carried on. 

As Caracalla passed the balcony he stepped out for a moment, followed bythe lamp-bearers, to thank his faithful warriors for the valor andobedience they had shown this day. The traitorous Alexandrians had nowmet their deserts. The greater the plunder his dear brethren in armscould win, the better he would be pleased. This speech was hailed witha shout of glee drowning his words; but Caracalla had heard his dearlybought troops cheer him with greater zeal and vigor. There were herewhole groups of men who did not join at all, or hardly opened theirmouths. And his ear was sharp. 

What cause could they have for dissatisfaction after such splendid booty, although they did not yet know that a war with the Parthians was inprospect?

He must know; but not to-day. They were to be depended on, he felt sure, for they were those to whom he was most liberal, and he had taken carethat there should be no one in the empire whose means equaled his own. But that they should be so lukewarm annoyed him. To-day, of all days, anenthusiastic roar of acclamations would have been peculiarly gratifying. They ought to have known it; and he went to his bedroom in silent anger. There his freedman Epagathos was waiting for him, with Adventus and hislearned Indian body slave Arjuna. The Indian never spoke unless he wasspoken to, and the two others took good care not to address their lord. So silence reigned in the spacious room while the Indian undressedCaracalla. Caesar was wont to say that this man's hands were matchlessfor lightness and delicacy of touch, but to-day they trembled as helifted the laurel wreath from Caesar's head and unbuckled the paddedbreast plate. The events of the day had shaken this man's soul to thefoundations. In his Eastern home he had been taught from his infancy torespect life even in beasts, living exclusively on vegetables, andholding all blood in abhorrence. He now felt the deepest loathing of allabout him; and a passionate longing for the peaceful and pure home amongsages, from which he had been snatched as a boy, came over him withincreasing vehemence. There was nothing here but what it defiled him tohandle, and his fingers shrank involuntarily from their task, as dutycompelled him to touch the limbs of a man who, to his fancy, was drippingwith human blood, and who was as much accursed by gods and men as thoughhe were a leper. 

Arjuna made haste that he might escape from the presence of the horribleman, and Caesar took no heed either of the pallor of his handsome brownface or the trembling of his slender fingers, for a crowd of thoughtsmade him blind and deaf to all that was going on around him. Theyreverted first to the events of the day; but as the Indian removed thewarm surcoat, the night breeze blew coldly into the room, and heshivered. Was it the spirit of the slain Tarautas which had floated inat the open window? The cold breath which fanned his cheek was certainlyno mere draught. It was exactly like a human sigh, only it was coldinstead of warm. If it proceeded from the ghost of the dead gladiator hemust be quite close to him. And the fancy gained reality in his mind; hesaw a floating human form which beckoned him and softly laid a cold handon his shoulder. 

He, Caesar, had linked his fate to that of the gladiator, and nowTarautas had come to warn him. But Caracalla had no mind to follow him;he forbade the apparition with a loud cry of "Away!" At this the Indianstarted, and though he could scarcely utter the words, he besought Caesarto be seated that he might take off his laced shoes; and then Caracallaperceived that it was an illusion that had terrified him, and he shruggedhis shoulders, somewhat ashamed. While the slave was busy he wiped hisdamp brow, saying to himself with a proud smile that of course spiritsnever appeared in broad light and when others were present. 

At last he dismissed the Indian and lay down. His head was burning, andhis heart beat too violently for sleep. At his bidding Epagathos andAdventus followed the Indian into the adjoining room after extinguishingthe lamp. . . Caracalla was alone in the dark. Awaiting sleep, hestretched himself at full length, but he remained as wide awake as byday. And still he could not help thinking of the immediate past. Evenhis enemies could not deny that it was his duty as a man and an emperorto inflict the severest punishment on this town, and to make it feel hisavenging hand; and yet he was beginning to be aware of the ruthlessnessof his commands. He would have been glad to talk it all over with someone else. But Philostratus, the only man who understood him, was out ofreach; he had sent him to his mother. And for what purpose? To tell herthat he, Caesar, had found a wife after his own heart, and to win herfavor and consent. At this thought the blood surged up in him with rageand shame. Even before they were wed his chosen bride had been false tohim; she had fled from his embraces, as he now knew, to death, never toreturn. 

He would gladly have sent a galley in pursuit to bring Philostratus backagain; but the vessel in which the philosopher had embarked was one ofthe swiftest in the imperial fleet, and it had already so long a startthat to overtake it would be almost impossible. So within a few daysPhilostratus would meet his mother; he, if any one, could describeMelissa's beauty in the most glowing colors, and that he would do so tothe empress, his great friend, was beyond a doubt. But the haughty Juliawould scarcely be inclined to accept the gem-cutter's child for adaughter; indeed, she did not wish that he should ever marry again. 

But what was he to her? Her heart was given to the infant son of herniece Mammaea;--[The third Caesar after Caracalla, Alexander Severus]--in him she discovered every gift and virtue. What joy there would beamong the women of Julia's train when it was known that Caesar's chosenbride had disdained him, and, in him, the very purple. But that joywould not be of long duration, for the news of the punishment by death ofa hundred thousand Alexandrians would, he knew, fall like a lash on thewomen. He fancied he could hear their howls and wailing, and see thehorror of Philostratus, and how he would join the women in bemoaning thehorrible deed! He, the philosopher, would perhaps be really grieved;aye, and if he had been at his side this morning everything might perhapshave been different. But the deed was done, and now he must take theconsequences. 

That the better sort would avoid him after such an act was self-evident--they had already refused to eat with him. On the other hand, it hadbrought nearer to him the favorites whom he had attracted to his person. Theocritus and Pandion, Antigonus and Epagathos, the priest of Alexander, who at Rome was overwhelmed with debt, and who in Egypt had become a richman again, would cling to him more closely. 

"Base wretches!" he muttered to himself. 

If only Philostratus would come back to him! But he scarcely dared hopeit. The evil took so much more care for their own well-being andmultiplication than the good. If one of the righteous fell away, all theothers forthwith turned their backs on him; and when the penitent desiredto return to the fold, the immaculate repelled or avoided him. But thewicked could always find the fallen man at once, and would cling to himand hinder him from returning. Their ranks were always open to him, however closely he might formerly have been attached to the virtuous. To live in exclusive intercourse with these reprobates was an odiousthought. He could compel whom he chose to live with him; but of what usewere silent and reluctant companions? And whose fault was it that he hadsent away Philostratus, the best of them all? Hers--the faithlesstraitoress, from whom he had looked for peace and joy, who had declaredthat she felt herself bound to him, the trickster in whom he had believedhe saw Roxana--But she was no more. On the table by his bed, among hisown jewels, lay the golden serpent he had given her--he fancied he couldsee it in the dark--and she had worn it even in death. He shuddered; hefelt as though a woman's arm, all black and charred, was stretched out tohim in the night, and the golden snake uncurled from it and reached forthas though to bite him. 

He shivered, and hid his head under the coverlet; but, ashamed and vexedat his own foolish weakness, he soon emerged from the stifling darkness, and an inward voice scornfully asked him whether he still believed thatthe soul of the great Macedonian inhabited his body. There was an end ofthis proud conviction. He had no more connection with Alexander thanMelissa had with Roxana, whom she resembled. 

The blood seethed hotly in his veins; to live on these terms seemed tohim impossible. 

As soon as it was day it must surely be seen that he was very seriouslyill. The spirit of Tarautas would again appear to him--and not merely asa vaporous illusion--and put an end to his utter misery. 

But he felt his own pulse; it beat no more quickly than usual. He had nofever, and yet he must be ill, very ill. And again he flushed so hotlythat he felt as if he should choke. Breathing hard, he sat up to callhis physician. Then he observed a light through the half-closed door ofthe adjoining room. He heard voices--those of Adventus and the Indian. 

Arjuna was generally so silent that Philostratus had vainly endeavored todiscover from him any particulars as to the doctrine of the Brahmans, among whom Apollonius of Tyana declared that he had found the highestwisdom, or concerning the manners of his people. And yet the Indian wasa man of learning, and could even read the manuscripts of his country. The Parthian ambassador had expressly dwelt on this when he deliveredArjuna to Caesar as a gift from his king. But Arjuna had never favoredany of these strangers with his confidence. Only with old Adventus didhe ever hold conversation, for the chamberlain took care that he shouldbe supplied with the vegetables and fruit on which he was accustomed tolive--for meat never passed his lips; and now he was talking with the oldman, and Caracalla sat up and laid his hand to his ear. 

The Indian was absorbed in the study of a bookroll in his own tongue, which he carried about him. "What are you reading?" asked Adventus. 

"A book, " replied Arjuna, "from which a man may learn what will become ofyou and me, and all these slaughtered victims, after death. "

"Who can know that?" said the old man with a sigh; and Arjuna repliedvery positively:

"It is written here, and there is no doubt about it. Will you hear it?"

"Certainly, " said Adventus eagerly, and the Indian began translating outof his book:

"When a man dies his various parts go whither they belong. His voicegoes to the fire, his breath to the winds, his eyes to the sun, hisspirit to the moon, his hearing becomes one with space, his body goes tothe earth, his soul is absorbed into ether, his hairs become plants, thehair of his head goes to crown the trees, his blood returns to water. Thus, every portion of a man is restored to that portion of the universeto which it belongs; and of himself, his own essence, nothing remains butone part what that is called is a great secret. "

Caracalla was listening intently. This discourse attracted him. 

He, like the other Caesars, must after his death be deified by thesenate; but he felt convinced, for his part, that the Olympians wouldnever count him as one of themselves. At the same time he wasphilosopher enough to understand that no existing thing could ever ceaseto exist. The restoration of each part of his body to that portion ofthe universe to which it was akin, pleased his fancy. There was no placein the Indian's creed for the responsibility of the soul at the judgmentof the dead. Caesar was already on the point of asking the slave toreveal his secret, when Adventus prevented him by exclaiming:

"You may confide to me what will be left of me--unless, indeed, you meanthe worms which shall eat me and so proceed from me. It can not be goodfor much, at any rate, and I will tell no one. "

To this Arjuna solemnly replied: "There is one thing which persists toall eternity and can never be lost in all the ages of the universe, andthat is--the deed. "

"I know that, " replied the old man with an indifferent shrug; but theword struck Caesar like a thunder-bolt. He listened breathlessly to hearwhat more the Indian might say; but Arjuna, who regarded it as sacrilegeto waste the highest lore on one unworthy of it, went on reading tohimself, and Adventus stretched himself out to sleep. 

All was silent in and about the sleeping-room, and the fearful words, "the deed, " still rang in the ears of the man who had just committed themost monstrous of all atrocities. He could not get rid of the hauntingwords; all the ill he had done from his childhood returned to him infancy, and seemed heaped up to form a mountain which weighed on him likean incubus. 

The deed!

His, too, must live on, and with it his name, cursed and hated to thelatest generations of men. The souls of the slain would have carried thenews of the deeds he had done even to Hades; and if Tarautas were to comeand fetch him away, he would be met below by legions of indignant shades--a hundred thousand! And at their head his stern father, and the otherworthy men who had ruled Rome with wisdom and honor, would shout in hisface: "A hundred thousand times a murderer! robber of the state!destroyer of the army!" and drag him before the judgment-seat; andbefore judgment could be pronounced the hundred thousand, led by thenoblest of all his victims, the good Papinian, would rush upon him andtear him limb from limb. 

Dozing as he lay, he felt cold, ghostly hands on his shoulder, on hishead, wherever the cold breath of the waning night could fan him throughthe open window; and with a loud cry he sprang out of bed as he fanciedhe felt a touch of the shadowy hand of Vindex. On hearing his voice, Adventus and the Indian hurried in, with Epagathos, who had even heardhis shriek in the farther room. They found him bathed in a sweat ofhorror, and struggling for breath, his eyes fixed on vacancy; andthe freedman flew off to fetch the physician. When he came Caesarangrily dismissed him, for he felt no physical disorder. Withoutdressing, he went to the window. It was about three hours beforesunrise. 

However, he gave orders that his bath should be prepared, and desired tobe dressed; then Macrinus and others were to be sent for. Sooner wouldhe step into boiling water than return to that bed of terror. Day, life, business must banish his terrors. But then, after the evening would comeanother night; and if the sufferings he had just gone through shouldrepeat themselves then, and in those to follow, he should lose his wits, and he would bless the spirit of Tarautas if it would but come to leadhim away to death. 

But "the deed"! The Indian was right--that would survive him on earth, and mankind would unite in cursing him. 

Was there yet time--was he yet capable of atoning for what was done bysome great and splendid deed? But the hundred thousand--

The number rose before him like a mountain, blotting out every scheme hetried to form as he went to his bath--taking his lion with him; hereveled in the warm water, and finally lay down to rest in clean linenwrappers. No one had dared to speak to him. His aspect was toothreatening. 

In a room adjoining the bath-room he had breakfast served him. It was, as usual, a simple meal, and yet he could only swallow a few mouthfuls, for everything had a bitter taste. The praetorian prefect was roused, and Caesar was glad to see him, for it was in attending to affairs thathe most easily forgot what weighed upon him. The more serious they were, the better, and Macrinus looked as if there was something of graveimportance to be settled. 

Caracalla's first question was with reference to the Parthianambassadors. They had, in fact, departed; now he must prepare for war. Caesar was eager to decide at once on the destination of each legion, andto call the legates together to a council of war; but Macrinus was not soprompt and ready as usual on such occasions. He had that to communicatewhich, as he knew, would to Caesar take the head of all else. If itshould prove true, it must withdraw him altogether from the affairs ofgovernment; and this was what Macrinus aimed at when, before summoningthe legates, he observed with a show of reluctance that Caesar would bewroth with him if, for the sake of a council of war, he were to defer areport which had just reached his ears. 

"Business first!" cried Caracalla, with decisive prohibition. 

"As you will. I thought only of what I was told by an official of thistemple, that the gem-cutter's daughter--you know the girl--is stillalive--"

But he got no further, for Caesar sprang to his feet, and desired to hearmore of this. 

Macrinus proceeded to relate that a slaughterer in the court of sacrificehad told him that Melissa had been seen last evening, and was somewherein the Serapeum. More than this the prefect knew not, and Caesarforthwith dismissed him to make further inquiry before he himself shouldtake steps to prove the truth of the report. 

Then he paced the room with revived energy. His eye sparkled, and, breathing fast, he strove to reduce the storm of schemes, plans, andhopes which surged up within him to some sort of order. He must punishthe fugitive--but yet more surely he would never again let her out of hissight. But if only he could first have her cast to the wild beasts, andthen bring her to life again, crown her with the imperial diadem, andload her with every gift that power and wealth could procure! He wouldread every wish in her eyes, if only she would once more lay her hand onhis forehead, charm away his pain, and bring sleep to his horror-strickenbed. He had done nothing to vex her; nay, every petition she had urged--But suddenly the image rose before him of old Vindex and his nephew, whomhe had sent to execution in spite of her intercession; and again theawful word, "the deed, " rang in his inward ear. Were these hideousthoughts to haunt him even by day?

No, no! In his waking hours there was much to be done which might givehim the strength to dissipate them. 

The kitchen-steward was by this time in attendance; but what didCaracalla care for dainties to tickle his palate now that he had a hopeof seeing Melissa once more? With perfect indifference he left thecatering to the skillful and inventive cook; and hardly had he retiredwhen Macrinus returned. 

The slaughterer had acquired his information through a comrade, who saidthat he had twice caught sight of Melissa at the window of the chambersof mystery in the upper story of the Serapeum, yesterday afternoon. Hehad hoped to win the reward which was offered for the recovery of thefugitive, and had promised his colleague half the money if he would helphim to capture the maiden. But just at sunset, hearing that the massacrewas ended, the man had incautiously gone out into the town, where he hadbeen slain by a drunken solder of the Scythian legion. The hapless man'sbody had been found, but Macrinus's informant had assured him that hecould entirely rely on the report of his unfortunate colleague, who was asober and truthful man, as the chief augur would testify. 

This was enough for Caracalla. Macrinus was at once to go for the high-priest, and to take care that he took no further steps to concealMelissa. The slaughterer had ever since daybreak kept secret watch onall the doors of the Serapeum, aided by his comrades, who were to sharein the reward, and especially on the stairway leading from the groundfloor up to the mystic's galleries. 

The prefect at once obeyed the despot's command. On the threshold he metthe kitchen-steward returning to submit his list of dishes for Caesar'sapproval. 

He found Caracalla in an altered mood, rejuvenescent and in the highestspirits. After hastily agreeing to the day's bill of fare, he asked thesteward in what part of the building the chambers of mystery were; andwhen he learned that the stairs leading up to them began close to thekitchens, which had been arranged for Caesar's convenience under thetemple laboratory, Caracalla declared in a condescending tone that hewould go to look round the scene of the cook's labors. And the lionshould come too, to return thanks for the good meat which was brought tohim so regularly. 

The head cook, rejoiced at the unwonted graciousness of a master whosewrath had often fallen on him, led the way to his kitchen hearth. Thishad been constructed in a large hall, originally the largest of thelaboratories, where incense was prepared for the sanctuary and medicinesconcocted for the sick in the temple hospital. There were smaller hallsand rooms adjoining, where at this moment some priests were busypreparing kyphi and mixing drugs. 

The steward, proud of Caesar's promised visit, announced to hissubordinates the honor they might expect, and he then went to the door ofthe small laboratory to tell the old pastophoros who was employed there, and who had done him many a good turn, that if he wished to see theemperor he had only to open the door leading to the staircase. He wasabout to visit the mystic chambers with his much-talked-of lion. No oneneed be afraid of the beast; it was quite tame, and Caesar loved it as ason. 

At this the old drug-pounder muttered some reply, which sounded more likea curse than the expected thanks, and the steward regretted havingcompared the lion to a son in this man's presence, for the pastophoroswore a mourning garment, and two promising sons had been snatched fromhim, slain yesterday with the other youths in the stadium. 

But the cook soon forgot the old man's ill-humor; he had to clear hissubordinates out of the way as quickly as possible and prepare for hisillustrious visitor. As he bustled around, here, there, and everywhere, the pastophoros entered the kitchen and begged for a piece of mutton. This was granted him by a hasty sign toward a freshly slaughtered sheep, and the old man busied himself for some time behind the steward's back. At last he had cut off what he wanted, and gazed with singular tendernessat the piece of red, veinless meat. On returning to his laboratory, hehastily bolted himself in, and when he came out again a few minutes laterhis calm, wrinkled old face had a malignant and evil look. He stood atthe bottom of the stairs, looking about him cautiously; then he flew upthe steps with the agility of youth, and at a turn in the stairs he stuckthe piece of meat close to the foot of the balustrade. 

He returned as nimbly as he had gone, cast a sorrowful glance through theopen laboratory window at the arena where all that had graced his lifelay dead, and passed his hand over his tearful face. At last he returnedto his task, but he was less able to do it than before. It was with atrembling hand that he weighed out the juniper berries and cedar resin, and he listened all the time with bated breath. 

Presently there was a stir on the stairs, and the kitchen slaves shoutedthat Caesar was coming. So he went out of the laboratory, which wasbehind the stairs, to see what was going forward, and a turnspit at oncemade way for the old man so as not to hinder his view. 

Was that little young man, mounting the steps so gayly, with the high-priest at his side and his suite at his heels, the dreadful monster whohad murdered his noble sons? He had pictured the dreadful tyrant quitedifferently. Now Caesar was laughing, and the tall man next him madesome light and ready reply--the head cook said it was the Roman priest ofAlexander, who was not on good terms with Timotheus. Could they belaughing at the high-priest? Never, in all the years he had known him, had he seen Timotheus so pale and dejected. 

The high-priest had indeed good cause for anxiety, for he suspected whoit was that Caesar hoped to find in the mystic rooms, and feared that hiswife might, in fact, have Melissa in hiding in that part of the buildingto which he was now leading the way. After Macrinus had come to fetchhim he had had no opportunity of inquiring, for the prefect had notquitted him for a moment, and Euryale was in the town busy with otherwomen in seeking out and nursing such of the wounded as had been foundalive among the dead. 

Caesar triumphed in the changed, gloomy, and depressed demeanor of a manusually so self-possessed; for he fancied that it betrayed some knowledgeon the part of Timotheus of Melissa's hiding-place; and he could jestwith the priest of Alexander and his favorite Theokritus and the otherfriends who attended him, while he ignored the high-priest's presence andnever even alluded to Melissa. 

Hardly had they gone past the old man when, just as the kitchen slaveswere shouting "Hail, Caesar!" the lady Euryale, as pale as death, hurriedin, and with a trembling voice inquired whither her husband wasconducting the emperor. 

She had turned back when half way on her road, in obedience to theimpulse of her heart, which prompted her, before she went on herSamaritan's errand, to visit Melissa in her hiding-place, and let her seethe face of a friend at the beginning of a new, lonely, and anxious day. On hearing the reply which was readily given, her knees trembled beneathher, and the steward, who saw her totter, supported her and led her intothe laboratory, where essences and strong waters soon restored her toconsciousness. Euryale had known the old pastophoros a long time, and, noticing his mourning garb, she asked sympathetically: "And you, too, arebereft?"

"Of both, " was the answer. "You were always so good to them--Slaughtered like beasts for sacrifice--down there in the stadium, " andtears flowed fast down the old man's furrowed cheeks. The lady upliftedher hands as though calling on Heaven to avenge this outrageous crime; atthe same instant a loud howl of pain was heard from above, and a greatconfusion of men's voices. 

Euryale was beside herself with fear. If they had found Melissa in herroom her husband's fate was sealed, and she was guilty of his doom. Butthey could scarcely yet have opened the chambers, and the girl was cleverand nimble, and might perhaps escape in time if she heard the menapproaching. She eagerly flew to the window. She could see below herthe stone which Melissa must move to get out; but between the wall andthe stadium the street was crowded, and at every door of the Serapeumlictors were posted, even at that stone door known only to the initiated, with the temple slaughterers and other servants who seemed all to be onguard. If Melissa were to come out now she would be seized, and it mustbecome known who had shown her the way into the hiding-place that hadsheltered her. 

At this moment Theokritus came leaping down the stairs, crying out toher: "The lion--a physician--where shall I find a leech?"

The matron pointed to the old man, who was one of the medical students ofthe sanctuary, and the favorite shouted out to him, "Come up!" and thenrushed on, paying no heed to Euryale's inquiry for Melissa; but the oldman laughed scornfully and shouted after him, "I am no beast-healer. "

Then, turning to the lady, he added:

"I am sorry for the lion. You know me, lady. I could never tillyesterday bear to see a fly hurt. But this brute! It was as a son tothat bloodhound, and he shall feel for once something to grieve him. The lion has had his portion. No physician in the world can bringhim to life again. "

He bent his head and returned to his laboratory; but the matronunderstood that this kind, peaceable man, in spite of his white hair, hadbecome a poisoner, and that the splendid, guiltless beast owed its deathto him. She shuddered. Wherever this unblest man went, good turned toevil; terror, suffering, and death took the place of peace, happiness, and life. He had forced her even into the sin of disobedience to herhusband and master. But now her secret hiding of Melissa against hiswill would be avenged. He and she alike would probably pay for the deedwith their life; for the murder of his lion would inevitably rouseCaesar's wildest passions. 

Still, she knew that Caracalla respected her; for her sake, perhaps, he would spare her husband. But Melissa? What would her fate be if shewere dragged out of her hiding-place?--and she must be discovered! Hehad threatened to cast her to the beasts; and ought she not to prefereven that fearful fate to forgiveness and a fresh outburst of Caesar'spassion?

Pale and tearless, but shaken with alarms, she bent over the balustradeof the stairs and murmured a prayer commending herself, her husband, andMelissa to God. Then she hastened up the steps. The great doors leadingto the chambers of mystery stood wide open, and the first person she metwas her husband. 

"You here?" said he in an undertone. "You may thank the gods that yourkind heart did not betray you into hiding the girl here. I trembled forher and for ourselves. But there is not a sign of her; neither here noron the secret stair. What a morning--and what a day must follow! Therelies Caesar's lion. If his suspicion that it has been poisoned should beproved true, woe to this luckless city, woe to us all!"

And Caesar's aspect justified the worst anticipations. He had thrownhimself on the floor by the side of his dead favorite, hiding his face inthe lion's noble mane, with strange, quavering wailing. Then he raisedthe brute's heavy head and kissed his dead eyes, and as it slipped fromhis hand and fell on the floor, he started to his feet, shaking his fist, and exclaiming:

"Yes, you have poisoned him! Bring the miscreant here, or you shallfollow him!"

Macrinus assured him that if indeed some basest of base wretches haddared to destroy the life of this splendid and faithful king of beasts, the murderer should infallibly be found. But Caracalla screamed in hisface:

"Found? Dare you speak of finding? Have you even brought me the girlwho was hidden here? Have you found her? Where is she? She was seenhere and she must be here!"

And he hurried from room to room in undignified haste, like a slavehunting for some lost treasure of his master's, tearing open closets, peeping behind curtains and up chimneys, and snatching the clothes, behind which she might have hidden, from the pegs on which they hung. He insisted on seeing every secret door, and ran first down and then upthe hidden stairs by which Melissa had in fact escaped. 

In the great hall, where by this time physicians and courtiers hadgathered round the carcass of the lion, Caesar sank on to a seat, hisbrow damp with heat, and stared at the floor; while the leeches, who, asAlexandrians for the most part, were anxious not to rouse the despot'srage, assured him that to all appearance the lion, who had been highlyfed and getting little exercise, had died of a fit. The poison hadindeed worked more rapidly than any the imperial body physician wasacquainted with; and he, not less anxious to mollify the sovereign, borethem out in this opinion. But their diagnosis, though well meant, hadthe contrary effect to that they had intended. The prosecution andpunishment of a murderer would have given occupation to his revengefulspirit and have diverted his thoughts, and the capture of the criminalwould have pacified him; as it was, he could only regard the death of thelion as a fresh stroke of fate directed against himself. He sat absorbedin sullen gloom, muttering frantic curses, and haughtily desired thehigh-priest to restore the offering he had wasted on a god who was somalignant, and as hostile to him as all else in this city of abomination. 

He then rose, desired every one to stand back from where the lion lay, and gazed down at the beast for many minutes. And as he looked, hisexcited imagination showed him Melissa stroking the noble brute, and thelion lashing the ground with his tail when he heard the light step of herlittle feet. He could hear the music of her voice when she spokecoaxingly to the lion; and then again he started off to search the roomsonce more, shouting her name, heedless of the bystanders, till Macrinusmade so bold as to assure him that the slaughterer's report must havebeen false. He must have mistaken some one else for Melissa, for it wasproved beyond a doubt that Melissa had been burned in her father's house. 

At this Caesar looked the prefect in the face with glazed and wanderingeyes, and Macrinus started in horror as he suddenly shrieked, "The deed, the deed!" and struck his brow with his fist. 

From that hour Caracalla had lost forever the power of distinguishing theillusions which pursued him from reality. 

CHAPTER XXXV. 

A week later Caracalla quitted Alexandria to make war on the Parthians. What finally drove the unhappy man to hurry from the hated place was thetorturing fear of sharing his lion's fate, and of being sent after themurdered Tarautas by the friends who had heard his appeal to fate. 

Quite mad he was not, for the illusions which haunted him were oftenabsent for several hours, when he spoke with perfect lucidity, receivedreports, and gave orders. It was with peculiar terror that his soulavoided every recollection of his mother, of Theokritus, and all thosewhose opinion he had formerly valued and whose judgment was notindifferent to him. 

In constant terror of the dagger of an avenger--a dread which, with manyother peculiarities, the leech could hardly ascribe to the diseasedphenomena of his mental state--he only showed himself to his soldiers, and he might often be seen making a meal off a pottage he himself hadcooked to escape the poison which had been fatal to his lion. He wasnever for an instant free from the horrible sense of being hated, shunned, and persecuted by the whole world. 

Sometimes he would remember that once a fair girl had prayed for him; butwhen he tried to recall her features he could only see the charred armwith the golden snake held up before him as he had pictured it that nightafter the most hideous of his massacres; and every time, at the sight ofit, that word came back to him which still tortured his soul above allelse--"The deed. " But his attendants, who heard him repeating it day andnight, never knew what he meant by it. 

When Zminis met his end by the wild beasts in the arena, it was beforehalf-empty seats, though several legions had been ordered into theamphitheatre to fill them. The larger number of the citizens were slain, and the remainder were in mourning for relatives more or less near; andthey also kept away from the scene to avoid the hated despot. 

Macrinus now governed the empire almost as a sovereign, for Caesar, formerly a laborious and autocratic ruler, shrank from all business. Even before they left Alexandria the plebeian prefect could see thatSerapion's prophecy was fulfilling itself. He remained in close intimacywith the soothsayer; but only once more, and just before Caesar'sdeparture, could the magian be induced to raise the spirits of the dead, for his clever accomplice, Castor, had fallen a victim in the massacrebecause, prompted by the high price set on Alexander's head, and his ownfierce hatred of the young painter, he would go out to discover where heand his sister had concealed themselves. 

When at last the unhappy monarch quitted Alexandria one rainy morning, followed by the curses of innumerable mourners--fathers, mothers, widows, and orphans--as well as of ruined artisans and craftsmen, the ill-usedcity, once so proudly gay, felt itself relieved of a crushing nightmare. This time it was not to Caesar that the cloudy sky promised welfare--hislife was wrapped in gloom--but to the people he had so bitterly hated. Thousands looked forward hopefully to life once more, in spite of theirmourning robes and widows' veils, and notwithstanding the serioushindrances which the malice of their "afflicted" sovereign had placed inthe way of the resuscitation of their town, for Caracalla had commandedthat a wall should be built to divide the great merchant city into twoparts. 

Nay, he had intended to strike a death-blow even at the learning to whichAlexandria owed a part of her greatness, by decreeing that the Museum andschools should be removed and the theatres closed. 

Maddening alike to heart and brain was the memory that he left behindhim, and the citizens would shake their fists if only his name werespoken. But their biting tongues had ceased to mock or jest. Most ofthe epigramatists were silenced forever, and the nimble wit of thesurvivors was quelled for many a month by bitter curses or tears ofsorrow. 

But now--it was a fortnight since the dreadful man had left--the shopsand stores, which had been closed against the plunderers, were beingreopened. Life was astir again in the deserted and silent baths andtaverns, for there was no further fear of rapine from insolent soldiers, or the treacherous ears of spies and delators. Women and girls couldonce more venture into the highways, the market was filled with dealers, and many an one who was conscious of a heedless speech or suspected ofwhistling in the circus, or of some other crime, now came out of hiswell-watched hiding-place. 

Glaukias, the sculptor, among others, reopened his work-rooms in Heron'sgarden-plot. In the cellar beneath the floor the gem-cutter had remainedhidden with Polybius and his sister Praxilla, for the easy-going old mancould not be induced to embark in the vessel which Argutis had hired forthem. Sooner would he die than leave Alexandria. He was too much pettedand too infirm to face the discomforts of a sea voyage. And hisobstinacy had served him well, for the ship in which they were to havesailed, though it got out before the harbor was closed, was overtaken andbrought back by an imperial galley. 

Polybius was, however, quite willing to accept Heron's invitation toshare his hiding-place. 

Now they could both come out again; but these few weeks had affected themvery differently. The gem-cutter looked like the shadow of himself, andhad lost his upright carriage. He knew, indeed, that Melissa was alive, and that Alexander, after being wounded, had been carried by Andreas tothe house of Zeno, and was on the way to recovery; but the death of hisfavorite son preyed on his mind, and it was a great grievance that hishouse should have been wrecked and burned. His hidden gold, which wassafe with him, would have allowed of his building a far finer one in itsstead, but the fact that it should be his fellow-citizens who haddestroyed it was worst of all. It weighed on his spirits, and made himmorose and silent. 

Old Dido, who had risked her life more than once, looked at him withmournful eyes, and besought all the gods she worshiped to restore hergood master's former vigor, that she might once more hear him curse andstorm; for his subdued mood seemed to her unnatural and alarming--aportent of his approaching end. 

Praxilla, too, the comfortable widow, had grown pale and thin, but oldDido had learned a great deal from her teaching. Polybius only was morecheerful than ever. He knew that his son and Melissa had escaped themost imminent dangers. This made him glad; and then his sister had donewonders that he might not too greatly miss his cook. His meals hadnevertheless been often scanty enough, and this compulsory temperance hadrelieved him of his gout and done him so much good that, when Andreas ledhim out into daylight once more, the burly old man exclaimed: "I feel aslight as a bird. If I had but wings I could fly across the lake to seethe boy. It is you, my brother, who have helped to make me so muchlighter. " He laid his arm on the freedman's shoulder and kissed him onthe cheeks. It was for the first time; and never before had he calledhim brother. But that his lips had obeyed the impulse of his heart mightbe seen in the tearful glitter of his eyes, which met those of Andreas, and they, too, were moist. 

Polybius knew all that the Christian had done for his son and forMelissa, for him and his, and his jest in saying that Andreas had helpedto make him lighter referred to his latest achievement. Julianus, thenew governor of the city, who now occupied the residence of the prefectTitianus, had taken advantage of the oppressed people to extract money, and Andreas, by the payment of a large sum, had succeeded in persuadinghim to sign a document which exonerated Polybius and his son from allcriminality, and protected their person and property against soldiers andtown guards alike. This safe-conduct secured a peaceful future to thegenial old man, and filled the measure of what he owed to the freedman, even to overflowing. Andreas, on his part, felt that his former owner'skiss and brotherly greeting had sealed his acceptance as a free man. Heasked no greater reward than this he had just received; and there wasanother thing which made his heart leap with gladness. He knew now thatthe fullness of time had come in the best sense for the daughter of theonly woman he had ever loved, and that the Good Shepherd had called herto be one of His flock. He could rejoice over this without a pang, forhe had learned that Diodoros, too, had entered on the path which hithertohe had pointed out to him in vain. 

A calm cheerfulness, which surprised all who knew him, brightened thegrave man; for him the essence of Christian love lay in the Resurrection, and he saw with astonishment that a wonderful new vitality was rising outof death. For Alexandria, too, the time was fulfilled. Men and womencrowded to the rite of baptism. Mothers brought their daughters, andfathers their sons. These days of horror had multiplied the littleChristian congregation to a church of ten thousand members. Caracallaturned hundreds from heathenism by his bloody sacrifices, his love offighting, his passion for revenge, and the blindness which made him castaway all care for his eternal soul to secure the enjoyment of a briefexistence. That the sword which had slain thousands of their sons shouldhave been dedicated to Serapis, and accepted by the god, alienated manyof the citizens from the patron divinity of the town. Then the news thatTimotheus the high-priest had abdicated his office soon after Caesar'sdeparture, and, with his revered wife Euryale, had been baptized by theirfriend the learned Clemens, confirmed many in their desire to be admittedinto the Christian community. 

After these horrors of bloodshed, these orgies of hatred and vengeance, every heart longed for love and peace and brotherly communion. Who ofall those that had looked death in the face in these days was not anxiousto know more of the creed which taught that the life beyond the grave wasof greater importance than that on earth?--while those who already heldit went forth to meet, as it were, a bridegroom. They had seen mentrodden down and all their rights trampled on, and now every ear was openwhen a doctrine was preached which recognized the supreme value ofhumanity, by ascribing, even to the humblest, the dignity of a child ofGod. They were accustomed to pray to immortal beings who lived inprivileged supremacy and wild revelry at the golden tables of theOlympian banquet; and now they were told that the church of theChristians meant the communion of the faithful with their fatherly God, and with His Son who had mingled with other mortals in the form of manand who had done more for them than a brother, inasmuch as He had takenupon Himself to die on the cross for love of them. 

To a highly cultured race like the Alexandrians it had long seemed anabsurdity to try to purchase the favor of the god; by blood-offerings. Many philosophical sects, and especially the Pythagoreans, had forbiddensuch sacrifices, and had enjoined the bringing of offerings not topurchase good fortune, but only to honor the gods; and now they saw theChristians not making any offerings at all, but sharing a love-feast. This, as they declared, was to keep them in remembrance of theirbrotherhood and of their crucified Lord, whose blood, once shed, Hisheavenly Father had accepted instead of every other sacrifice. Thevoluntary and agonizing death of the Redeemer had saved the soul of everyChristian from sin and damnation; and many who in the late scenes ofhorror had been inconsolable in anticipation of the grave, felt moved toshare in this divine gift of grace. 

Beautiful, wise, and convincing sentences from the Bible went from lip tolip; and a saying of Clemens, whose immense learning was well known, wasespecially effective and popular. He had said that "faith was knowledgeof divine things through revelation, but that learning must give theproof thereof"; and this speech led many men of high attainments to studythe new doctrines. 

The lower classes were no doubt those most strongly attracted, the poorand the slaves; and with them the sorrowing and oppressed. There weremany of these now in the town; ten thousand had seen those dearest tothem perish, and others, being wounded, had within a few days been ruinedboth in health and estate. 

As to Melissa in her peril, so to all these the Saviour's call to theheavy-laden that He would give them rest had come as a promise of newhope to car and heart. At the sound of these words they saw the buds ofa new spring-time for the soul before their eyes; any one who knew aChristian improved his intimacy that he might hear more about the tender-hearted Comforter, the Friend of children, the kind and helpful Patron ofthe poor, the sorrowful, and the oppressed. 

Assemblies of any kind were prohibited by the new governor; but the lawof Aelius Marcianus allowed gatherings for religious purposes, and thelearned lawyer, Johannes, directed his fellow-Christians to rely on that. All Alexandria was bidden to these meetings, and the text with whichAndreas opened the first, "Now the fullness of time is come, " passed frommouth to mouth. 

Apart from that period which had preceded the birth of Christ, thesewords applied to none better than to the days of death and terror whichthey had just gone through. Had a plainer boundary-stone ever beenerected between a past and a future time? Out of the old vain andcareless life, which had ended with such fearful horrors, a new lifewould now proceed of peace and love and pious cares. 

The greater number of the citizens, and at their head the wealthy andproud, still crowded the heathen temples to serve the old gods andpurchase their favor with offerings; still, the Christian churches weretoo small and few to hold the faithful, and these had risen to higherconsideration, for the community no longer consisted exclusively of thelower rank of people and slaves. No, men and women of the best familiescame streaming in, and this creed--as was proclaimed by Demetrius, theeloquent bishop; by Origen, who in power and learning--was the superiorof any heathen philosopher; by the zealous Andreas, and many anotherchosen spirit--this creed was the religion of the future. 

The freedman had never yet lived in such a happy and elevated frame ofmind; as he looked back on his past existence he often remembered withthankful joy the promise that the last should be first, and that thelowly should be exalted. If the dead had risen from their graves beforehis eyes it would scarcely have surprised him, for in these latter dayshe had seen wonder follow on wonder. The utmost his soul had sofervently desired, for which he had prayed and longed, had foundfulfillment in a way which far surpassed his hopes; and through whatblood and fear had the Lord led His own, to let them reach the highestgoal! He knew from the lady Euryale that his desire to win Melissa'ssoul to the true faith had been granted, and that she craved to bebaptized. This had not been confirmed by the girl herself, for, attackedby a violent fever, she had during nine days hovered between life anddeath; and since then Andreas had for more than a week been detained inthe town arranging affairs for Polybius. 

The task was now ended which he had set himself to carry through. Hecould leave the city and see once more the young people he loved. Heparted from Polybius and his sister at the garden gate, and led Heron andold Dido to a small cottage which his former master had given him to livein. 

The gem-cutter was not to be allowed to see his children till the leechshould give leave, and the unfortunate man could not get over hissurprise and emotion at finding in his new home not only a work-table, with tools, wax, and stones, but several cages full of birds, and amongthese feathered friends a starling. His faithful and now freed slave, Argutis, had, by Polybius's orders, supplied everything needful; but thebirds were a thought of the Christian girl Agatha. All this was aconsolation in his grief, and when the gem-cutter was alone with old Didohe burst into sobs. The slave woman followed his example, but he stoppedher with loud, harsh scolding. At first she was frightened; but then sheexclaimed with delight from the very bottom of her faithful heart, "Thegods be praised!" and from the moment when he could storm, she alwaysdeclared, Heron's recovery began. 

 . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . 

The sun was setting when Andreas made his way to Zeno's house--a long, white-washed building. 

The road led through a palm-grove on the Christian's estate. His anxietyto see the beloved sufferers urged him forward so quickly that hepresently overtook another man who was walking in the same direction inthe cool of the evening. This was Ptolemaeus, the physician. 

He greeted Andreas with cheerful kindness, and the freedman knew what hemeant when, without waiting to be asked, he said:

"We are out of the wood now; the fever has passed away. The deliriousfancies have left her, and since noon she has slept. When I quitted heran hour ago she was sleeping soundly and quietly. Till now the shakensoul has been living in a dream; but now that the fever has passed away, she will soon be herself again. As yet she has recognized no one;neither Agatha nor the lady Euryale; not even Diodoros, whom I allowed tolook at her yesterday for a moment. We have taken her away from thelarge house in the garden, on account of the children, to the littlevilla opposite the place of worship. It is quiet there, and the airblows in on her through the open veranda. The Empress herself could notwish for a better sick-room. And the care Agatha takes of her! You areright to hasten. The last glimmer of sunshine is extinct, and divineservice will soon begin. I am satisfied with Diodoros too; youth is asoil on which the physician reaps easy laurels. What will it not healand strengthen! Only when the soul is so deeply shaken, as with Melissaand her brother, matters go more slowly, even with the young. However, as I said, we are past the crisis. "

"God be praised!" said Andreas. "Such news makes me young again. I could run like a boy. " They now entered the well-kept gardens whichlay behind Zeno's house. Noble clumps of tall old trees rose above thegreen grass plots and splendid shrubs. Round a dancing fountain werecarefully kept beds of beautiful flowers. The garden ended at a palm-grove, which cast its shade on Zeno's little private place of worship--an open plot inclosed by tamarisk hedges like walls. The little villain which Melissa lay was in a bower of verdure, and the veranda with thewide door through which the bed of the sufferer had been carried in, stood open in the cool evening to the garden, the palm-grove, and theplace of worship with its garland, as it were, of fragile tamariskboughs. 

Agatha was keeping watch by Melissa; but as the last of the figures, great and small, who could be seen moving across the garden, all in thesame direction, disappeared behind the tamarisk screen, the youngChristian looked lovingly down at her friend's pale and all too delicateface, touched her forehead lightly with her lips, and whispered to thesleeper, as though she could hear her voice:

"I am only going to pray for you and your brother. "

And she went out. 

A few moments later the brazen gong was heard--muffled out of regard forthe sick--which announced the hour of prayer to the little congregation. It had sounded every evening without disturbing the sufferer, but to-night it roused her from her slumbers. 

She looked about her in bewilderment and tried to rise, but she was tooweak to lift herself. Terror, blood, Diodoros wounded, Andreas, the asson which she had ridden that night, were the images which first crowdedon her awakening spirit in bewildering confusion. She had heard thatpiercing ring of smitten brass in the Serapeum. Was she still there?Had she only dreamed of that night-ride with her wounded lover? Perhapsshe had lost consciousness in the mystic chambers, and the clang of thegong had roused her. 

And she shuddered. In her terror she dared not open her eyes forfear of seeing on all hands the hideous images on the walls and ceiling. Merciful gods! If her flight from the Serapeum and the rescue ofDiodoros by Andreas had really been but a dream, then the door might openat any moment, and the Egyptian Zminis or his men might come in to dragher before that dreadful Caesar. 

She had half recovered consciousness several times, and as these thoughtshad come over her, her returning lucidity had vanished and a fresh attackof fever had shaken her. But this time her head seemed clearer; thecloud and humming had left her which had impeded the use of her ears andeyes. 

Her brain too had recovered its faculties. As soon as she tried tothink, her restored intelligence told her that if she were indeed stillin the Serapeum and the door should open, the lady Euryale might come into speak courage to her and take her in her motherly arms, and--And shesuddenly recollected the promise which had come to her from theScriptures of the Christians. It stood before her soul in perfectclearness that she had found a loving comforter in the Saviour; sheremembered how gladly she had declared to the lady Euryale that thefullness of time had now indeed come to her, and that she had no morefervent wish than to become a fellow-believer with her kind friend--a baptized Christian. And all the while she felt as though light werespreading in her and around her, and the vision she had last seen whenshe lost consciousness rose again before her inward eye. Again she sawthe Redeemer as He had stood before her at the end of her ride, stretching out His arms to her in the darkness, inviting her, who wasweary and heavy laden, to be refreshed by him. A glow of thankfulnesswarmed her heart, and she closed her eyes once more. 

But she did not sleep; and while she lay fully conscious, with her handson her bosom as it rose and fell regularly with her deep breathing, thinking of the loving Teacher, of the Christians, and of all theglorious promises she had read in the Sermon on the Mount, and which wereaddressed to her too, she could fancy that her head rested on Euryale'sshoulder, while she saw the form of the Saviour robed in light andbeckoning to her. 

Her whole frame was wrapped in pleasant languor. Just so had she feltonce before-she remembered it well--and she remembered when it was. Shehad felt just as she did now after her lover had for the first timeclasped her to his heart, when, as night came on, she had sat by his sideon the marble bench, while the Christian procession passed. She hadtaken the chanting train for the wandering souls of the dead and--howstrange! No--she was not mistaken. She heard at this moment theselfsame strain which they had then sung so joyfully, in spite of itssolemn mode. She did know when it had begun, but again it filled herwith a bitter-sweet sense of pity. Only it struck deeper now thanbefore, for she knew now that it applied to all human beings, since theywere all the children of the same kind Father, and her own brethren andsisters. 

But whence did the wonderful music proceed--Was she--and a shock of alarmthrilled her at the thought--was she numbered with the dead? Had herheart ceased to beat when the Saviour had taken her in His arms after herride through blood and darkness, when all had grown dim to her senses?Was she now in the abode of the blest?

Andreas had painted it as a glorious place; and yet she shuddered at thethought. But was not that foolish? If she were really dead, all terrorand pain were at an end. She would see her mother once more; andwhatever might happen to those she loved, she might perhaps be sufferedto linger near them, as she had done on earth, and hope with assurance tomeet them again here, sooner or later. 

But no! Her heart was beating still; she could feel how strongly itthrobbed. Then where was she?

There certainly had not been any such coverlet as this on her bed in theSerapeum, and the room there was much lower. She looked about her andsucceeded in turning on her side toward the evening breeze which blew inon her, so pure and soft and sweet. She raised her delicate emaciatedhand to her head and found that her thick hair was gone. Then she musthave cut it off to disguise herself. 

But where was she? Whither had she fled?

It mattered not. The Serapeum was far away, and she need no longer fearZminis and his spies. Now for the first time she raised her eyesthankfully to Heaven, and next she looked about her; and while she gazedand let her eyes feed themselves full, a faint cry of delight escaped herlips. Before her, in the silvery light of the bright disk of the youngmoon lay a splendid blooming garden, and over the palms which toweredabove all else, in shadowy masses, in the distance the evening star wasrising just in front, the moonlight twinkled and flashed in the risingand falling drops of the fountain; and as she lay, stirred to the depthsof her soul by this silent splendor, thinking of kindly Selene moving onher peaceful path above, of Artemis hunting in the moonlight, of thenymphs of the waters, and the dryads just now perhaps stealing out of thegreat trees to dance with sportive fauns, the chant suddenly broke outagain in solemn measure, and she heard, to deep manly voices, thebeginning of the Psalm:

"Give thanks unto the Lord and declare his name; proclaim his wondersamong the nations. 

"Sing of him and praise him; tell of all his wonders; glorify his holyname; their hearts rejoice that seek the Lord. "

Here the men ceased and the women began as though to confirm their praiseof the most High, singing the ninetieth Psalm with enthusiastic joy:

"O Lord, thou hast been our dwelling-place in all generations. 

"Before the mountains were brought forth, or, ever thou hadst formed theearth and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting, thou art God. 

"For a thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday when it ispassed, and as a watch in the night. "

Then the men's voices broke in again

"The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament showeth hishandiwork. 

"Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge. "

And the women in their turn took up the chant, and from their gratefulbreasts rose clear and strong the Psalm of David:

"Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holyname. 

"Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits. 

"Who forgiveth all thine iniquities; who healeth all thy diseases. 

"Who redeemeth thy life from destruction; who crowneth thee with loving-kindness and tender mercies. "

Melissa listened breathlessly to the singing, of which she could hearevery word; and how gladly would she have mingled her voice with theirsin thanksgiving to the kind Father in heaven who was hers as well astheirs! There lay His wondrous works before her, and her heart echoedthe verse:

"Who redeemeth thy life from destruction; who crowneth thee with loving-kindness and tender mercies, " as though it were addressed especially toher and sung for her by the choir of women. 

The gods of whom she had but just been thinking with pious remembranceappeared to her now as beautiful, merry, sportive children, as gracefulcreatures of her own kind, in comparison with the Almighty Creator andRuler of the universe, whose works among the nations, whose holy name, whose wonders, greatness, and loving-kindness these songs of praisecelebrated. The breath of His mouth dispersed the whole world of gods towhom she had been wont to pray, as the autumn wind scatters the many-tinted leaves of faded trees. She felt as though He embraced the gardenbefore her with mighty and yet loving arms, and with it the whole world. She had loved the Olympian gods; but in this hour, for the first time, she felt true reverence for one God, and it made her proud to think thatshe might love this mighty Lord, this tender Father, and know that shewas beloved by Him. Her heart beat faster and faster, and she felt asthough, under the protection of this God, she need never more fear anydanger. 

As she looked out again at the palm-trees beyond the tamarisks, abovewhose plumy heads the evening star now rode in the azure blue of thenight sky, the singing was taken up again after a pause; she heard oncemore the angelic greeting which had before struck her soul as socomforting and full of promise when she read it in the Gospel:

"Glory to God on high, on earth peace, good-will toward men. "

That which she had then so fervently longed for had, she thought, come topass. The peace, the rest for which she had yearned so miserably in themidst of terror and bloodshed, now filled her heart-all that surroundedher was so still and peaceful! A wonderful sense of home came over her, and with it the conviction that here she would certainly find those forwhom she was longing. 

Again she looked up to survey the scene, and she was now aware of a whitefigure coming toward her from the tamarisk hedge. This was Euryale. Shehad seen Agatha among the worshipers, and had quitted the congregation, fearing that the sick girl might wake and find no one near her who caredfor her or loved her. She crossed the grass plot with a swift step. Shehad passed the fountain; her head came into the moonlight, and Melissacould see the dear, kind face. With glad excitement she called her byname, and as the matron entered the veranda she heard the convalescent'sweak voice and hastened to her side. Lightly, as if joy had made heryoung again, she sank on her knees by the bed of the resuscitated girl tokiss her with motherly tenderness and press her head gently to her bosom. While Melissa asked a hundred questions the lady had to warn her toremain quiet, and at last to bid her to keep silence. 

First of all Melissa wanted to know where she was. Then her lipsoverflowed with thankfulness and joy, and declarations that she felt asshe was sure the souls in bliss must feel, when Euryale had told her insubdued tones that her father was living, that Diodoros and her brotherhad found a refuge in the house of Zeno, and that Andreas, Polybius, andall dear to them were quite recovered after those evil days. The townhad long been rid of Caesar, and Zeno had consented to allow his daughterAgatha to marry Alexander. 

In obedience to her motherly adviser, the convalescent remained quiet fora while; but joy seemed to have doubled her strength, for she desired tosee Agatha, Alexander, and Andreas, and--she colored, and a beseechingglance met Euryale's eyes--and Diodoros. 

But meanwhile the physician Ptolemaeus had come into the room, and hewould allow no one to come near her this evening but Zeno's daughter. His grave eyes were dim with tears as, when taking leave, he whispered tothe Lady Euryale:

"All is well. Even her mind is saved. "

He was right. From day to day and from hour to hour her recoveryprogressed and her strength improved. And there was much for her to seeand hear, which did her more good than medicine, even though she had beenmoved to fresh grief by the death of her brother and many friends. 

Like Melissa, her lover and Alexander had been led by thorny paths to thestars which shine on happy souls and shed their light in the hearts ofthose to whom the higher truth is revealed. It was as Christians thatDiodoros and Alexander both came to visit the convalescent. That whichhad won so many Alexandrians to the blessings of the new faith hadattracted them too, and the certainty of finding their beloved among theChristians had been an added inducement to crave instruction from Zeno. And it had been given them in so zealous and captivating a manner that, in their impressionable hearts, the desire for learning had soon beenturned to firm conviction and inspired ardor. 

Agatha was betrothed to Alexander. 

The scorn of his fellow-citizens, which had fallen on the innocent youthand which he had supposed would prevent his ever winning her love, had infact secured it to him, for Agatha's father was very ready to trust hischild to the man who had rescued her, whom she loved, and in whom he sawone of the lowly who should be exalted. 

Alexander was not told of Philip's death till his own wounds were healed;but he had meanwhile confided to Andreas that he had made up his mind tofly to a distant land that he might never again see Agatha, and thus notrob the brother on whom he had brought such disaster of the woman heloved. The freedman had heard him with deep emotion, and within a fewhours after Andreas had reported to Zeno the self-sacrificing youth'spurpose, Zeno had gone to Alexander and greeted him as his son. 

Melissa found in Agatha the sister she had so long pined for; and howhappy it made her to see her brother's eyes once more sparkle withgladness! Alexander, even as a Christian and as Agatha's husband, remained an artist. 

The fortune accumulated by Andreas--the solidi with which he had formerlypaid the scapegrace painter's debts included--was applied to the erectionof a new and beautiful house of God on the spot where Heron's house hadstood. Alexander decorated it with noble pictures, and as this churchwas soon too small to accommodate the rapidly increasing congregation, he painted the walls of yet another, with figures whose extreme beautywas famous throughout Christendom, and which were preserved and admiredtill gloomy zealots prohibited the arts in churches and destroyed theirworks. 

Melissa could not be safe in Alexandria. After being quietly married inthe house of Polybius, she, with her young husband and Andreas, moved toCarthage, where an uncle of Diodoros dwelt. Love went them, and, withlove, happiness. They were not long compelled to remain in exile; a fewmonths after their marriage news was brought to Carthage that Caesar hadbeen murdered by the centurion Martialis, prompted by the tribunesApollinaris and Nemesianus Aurelius. Immediately on this, Macrinus, thepraetorian prefect, was proclaimed emperor by the troops. 

The ambitious man's sovereignty lasted less than a year; still, theprophecy of Serapion was fulfilled. It cost the Magian his life indeed;for a letter written by him to the prefect, in which he reminded him ofwhat he had foretold, fell into the hands of Caracalla's mother, whoopened the letters addressed to her ill-fated son at Antioch, where shewas then residing. The warning it contained did not arrive, however, till after Caesar's death, and before the new sovereign could effectuallyprotect the soothsayer. As soon as Macrinus had mounted the throne thepersecution of those who had roused the ire of the unhappy Caracalla wasat an end. Diodoros and Melissa, Heron and Polybius, could mingle oncemore with their fellow-citizens secure from all pursuit. 

Diodoros and other friends took care that the suspicion of treacherywhich had been cast on Heron's household should be abundantly disproved. Nay, the death of Philip, and Melissa's and Alexander's evil fortunes, placed them in the ranks of the foremost foes of tyranny. 

Within ten months of his accession Macrinus was overthrown, after hisdefeat at Immae, where, though the praetorians still fought for himbravely, he took ignominious flight; Julia Domna's grandnephew was thenproclaimed Caesar by the troops, under the name of Heliogabalus, and theyoung emperor of fourteen had a statue and a cenotaph erected atAlexandria to Caracalla, whose son he was falsely reputed to be. Thesetwo works of art suffered severely at the hands of those on whom thehated and luckless emperor had inflicted such fearful evils. Still, oncertain memorial days they were decked with beautiful flowers; and whenthe new prefect, by order of Caracalla's mother, made inquiry as to whoit was that laid them there, he was informed that they came from thefinest garden in Alexandria, and that it was Melissa, the wife of theowner, who offered them. This comforted the heart of Julia Domna, andshe would have blessed the donor still more warmly if she could haveknown that Melissa included the name of her crazed son in her prayers toher dying day. 

Old Heron, who had settled on the estate of Diodoros and lived thereamong his birds, less surly than of old, still produced his miniatureworks of art; he would shake his head over those strange offerings, andonce when he found himself alone with old Dido, now a freed-woman, hesaid, irritably: "If that little fool had done as I told her she would beempress now, and as good as Julia Domna. But all has turned out well--only that Argutis, whom every one treats as if our old Macedonian bloodran in his veins, was sent yesterday by Melissa with finer flowers forCaracalla's cenotaph than for her own mother's tomb--May her new-fangledgod forgive her! There is some Christian nonsense at the bottom of it, no doubt. I stick to the old gods whom my Olympias served, and shealways did the best in everything. "

Old Polybius, too, remained a heathen; but he allowed the children toplease themselves. He and Heron saw their grandchildren brought up asChristians without a remonstrance, for they both understood thatChristianity was the faith of the future. 

Andreas to his latest day was ever the faithful adviser of old and youngalike. In the sunshine of love which smiled upon him his austere zealturned to considerate tenderness. When at last he lay on his death-bed, and shortly before the end, Melissa asked him what was his favorite verseof the Scriptures, he replied firmly and decidedly:

"Now the fullness of time is come. "

"So be it, " replied Melissa with tears in her eyes. He smiled andnodded, signed to Diodoros to draw off his signet ring--the only thinghis father had saved from the days of his wealth and freedom--and desiredMelissa to keep it for his sake. Deeply moved, she put it on her finger;but Andreas pointed to the motto, and said with failing utterance:

"That is your road--and mine--my father's motto: Per aspera ad astra. Ithas guided me to my goal, and you--all of you. But the words are inLatin; you understand them? By rough ways to the stars--Nay what theysay to me is: Upward, under the burden of the cross, to bliss here andhereafter--And you too, " he added, looking in his darling's face. "Youtoo, both of you; I know it. "

He sighed deeply, and, laying his hand on Melissa's head as she knelt byhis bed, he closed his faithful eyes in the supporting arms of Diodoros.