The stroke given by their Greek guide with the metal knocker on the house-door was answered at once by a slave.  As the master was at the market, the strangers were led by the steward, an old servant grown grey in the service of Theopompus, into the Andronitis, and begged to wait there until he returned.

They were still engaged in admiring the paintings on the walls, and the artistic carving of the stone floor, when Theopompus, the merchant whom we first learnt to know at the house of Rhodopis, came back from the market, followed by a great number of slaves bearing his purchases.

[Men of high rank among the Greeks did not disdain to make purchases at market, accompanied by their slaves, but respectable women could not appear there.  Female slaves were generally sent to buy what was needed.]

He received the strangers with charming politeness and asked in what way he could be of use to them, on which Bartja, having first convinced himself that no unwished—­for listeners were present, gave him the roll he had received from Phanes at parting.

Theopompus had scarcely read its contents, when he made a low bow to the prince, exclaiming:  “By Zeus, the father of hospitality, this is the greatest honor that could have been conferred upon my house!  All I possess is yours, and I beg you to ask your companions to accept with kindness what I can offer.  Pardon my not having recognized you at once in your Lydian dress.  It seems to me that your hair is shorter and your beard thicker, than when you left Egypt.  Am I right in imagining that you do not wish to be recognized?  It shall be exactly as you wish.  He is the best host, who allows his guests the most freedom.  All, now I recognize your friends; but they have disguised themselves and cut their curls also.  Indeed, I could almost say that you, my friend, whose name—­”

“My name is Darius.”

“That you, Darius, have dyed your hair black.  Yes?  Then you see my memory does not deceive me.  But that is nothing to boast of, for I saw you several times at Sais, and here too, on your arrival and departure.  You ask, my prince, whether you would be generally recognized?  Certainly not.  The foreign dress, the change in your hair and the coloring of your eyebrows have altered you wonderfully.  But excuse me a moment, my old steward seems to have some important message to give.”

In a few minutes Theopompus came back, exclaiming:  “No, no, my honored friends, you have certainly not taken the wisest way of entering Naukratis incognito.  You have been joking with the flower-girls and paying them for a few roses, not like runaway Lydian Hekatontarchs, but like the great lords you are.  All Naukratis knows the pretty, frivolous sisters, Stephanion, Chloris and Irene, whose garlands have caught many a heart, and whose sweet glances have lured many a bright obolus out of the pockets of our gay young men.  They’re very fond of visiting the flower-girls at market-time,