At the garden gate Phanes stopped, looked around him carefully and listened; then shaking his head, “I do not understand what this can mean,” he said.  “I hear no voices, there is not a single light to be seen, the boats are all gone, and yet the flag is still flying at its gay flag-staff, there, by the obelisks on each side of the gate.”

[Obelisks bearing the name of the owner were sometimes to be seen near the gates of the Egyptian country-houses.  Flags too were not uncommon, but these were almost exclusively to be found at the gates of the temples, where to this day the iron sockets for the flagstaff can still be seen.  Neither were flags unknown to the Greeks.  It appears from some inscriptions on the staffs of the Pylons, that if the former were not actually erected for lightning-rods, it had been noticed that they attracted the electricity.]

“Rhodopis must surely be from home; can they have forgotten?”—­Here a deep voice suddenly interrupted him with the exclamation, “Ha! the commander of the body-guard!”

“A pleasant evening to you, Knakais,” exclaimed Phanes, kindly greeting the old man, who now came up.  “But how is it that this garden is as still as an Egyptian tomb, and yet the flag of welcome is fluttering at the gate?  How long has that white ensign waved for guests in vain?”

“How long indeed?” echoed the old slave of Rhodopis with a smile.  “So long as the Fates graciously spare the life of my mistress, the old flag is sure to waft as many guests hither as the house is able to contain.  Rhodopis is not at home now, but she must return shortly.  The evening being so fine, she determined on taking a pleasure-trip on the Nile with her guests.  They started at sunset, two hours ago, and the evening meal is already prepared; they cannot remain away much longer.  I pray you, Phanes, to have patience and follow me into the house.  Rhodopis would not easily forgive me, if I allowed such valued guests to depart.  You stranger,” he added, turning to the Spartan, “I entreat most heartily to remain; as friend of your friend you will be doubly welcome to my mistress.”

The two Greeks, following the servant, seated themselves in an arbor, and Aristomachus, after gazing on the scene around him now brilliantly lighted by the moon, said, “Explain to me, Phanes, by what good fortune this Rhodopis, formerly only a slave and courtesan can now live as a queen, and receive her guests in this princely manner?”

[The mistresses (Hetaere) of the Greeks must not be compared with modern women of bad reputation.  The better members of this class represented the intelligence and culture of their sex in Greece, and more especially in the Ionian provinces.  As an instance we need only recall Aspasia and her well-attested relation to Pericles and Socrates.  Our heroine Rhodopis was a celebrated woman.  The Hetaera, Thargalia of Miletus, became the wife of a Thessalian king.