Drusus and Cornelia were neither of them the same young persons who had met in the gardens of the villa of the Lentuli two short years before.  They saw life with a soberer gaze; they had both the wisdom that experience teaches.  Yet for the time not a cloud was drifting across their sky.  Their passions and hates had been too fierce, too pagan, to feel the death of even Cornelia’s uncle very keenly.  Lucius Ahenobarbus was dead—­they had no more thought for him than for a dead viper.  Lucius Domitius was dead.  Gabinius and Dumnorix were dead.  Pompeius, the tool of guiltier men than himself, was dead.  Pratinas alone of all those who had crossed their path remained; but the wily Greek was a mere creature of self-interest—­what had he to gain by pressing his animosity, if he had any, against them?  Caesar was triumphant.  His enemies were barely lifting their heads in Africa.  Doubtless there was stern work awaiting the Imperator there, but what of it?  Was he not invincible?  Was he not about to commence a new order of things in the world, to tear down the old and decaying, to raise up a steadfast fabric?  Therefore the little party took its pleasure, and enjoyed every ancient temple of the Amenhoteps, Thothmeses, and Ramesides that they hurriedly visited; won the favour of the wrinkled old priests by their plentiful votives of bright philippi; heard a hundred time-honoured tales that they knew not whether to believe or laugh at; speculated among themselves as to the sources of the Nile, the cause of the vocal Memnon, and fifty more darkened wonders, and resolved to solve every mystery during a second and more prolonged visit.

So they came to Alexandria, but on the way called at the Nile villa where was Artemisia, and, to the great satisfaction of that young lady and of Agias, carried her along with them to the house of Cleomenes, where that affable host and Berenice and Monime received them with open arms.

Their pleasure at this reunion, however, began to abate when they realized the disturbed state of the city.

“I can’t say I like the situation,” admitted Cleomenes, as soon as he had been introduced to Drusus, and the first greetings were over; “you know when Caesar landed he took his consular insignia with him, and the mob made this mean that he was intending to overthrow the government and make Egypt a Roman province.  If you had not left for Pelusium so hastily, you would have been present at a very serious riot, that was with great difficulty put down.  The soldiers of the royal garrison are in an ugly mood, and so are the people.  I suspect the king, or rather Pothinus, is doing nothing to quiet them.  There have been slight riots for several days past, and a good many Roman soldiers who have straggled away from the palace into the lower quarters of the city have been murdered.”

“I am glad,” replied Drusus, “that I can leave Cornelia and my aunt under your protection, for my duty may keep me continuously with the Imperator.”