“You look as if no one could better perform the task,” the Regent interrupted, with a side glance at the galley, “so you shall have the commission.  It is the last one I shall give, during the Queen’s absence, in her name.”

“I shall not fail,” she answered firmly.

When Iras again looked towards the landing-place she saw Archibius standing alone, with his eyes fixed upon the ground.  Impulse prompted her to tell her uncle what had happened; but at the first step she paused, and her thin lips uttered a firm “No.”

Her friend had become a stone in her path.  If necessary, she would find means to thrust him also aside, spite of his sister Charmian and the old tie which united him to Cleopatra.  He had grown weak, Charmian had always been so.

She would have had time enough now to consider what step to take first, had not her heart ached so sorely.

After the huge galley lay moored, several minutes elapsed ere two pastophori of the goddess Isis, who guarded the goblet of Nektanebus, taken from the temple treasures and borne along in a painted chest, stepped upon the bridge, followed by Cleopatra’s first chamberlain, who in a low tone announced the approach of the Queen and commanded the waiting groups to make way.  A double line of torch-bearers had been stationed from the landing to the gate leading into the Bruchium, and the other on the north, which was the entrance to the palaces on the Lochias, since it was not known where Cleopatra would desire to go.  The chamberlain, however, said that she would spend the night at Lochias, where the children lived, and ordered all the flickering, smoking torches, save a few, to be extinguished.

Mardion, the Keeper of the Seal, Archibius, and Iras were standing by the bridge a little in advance of the others, when voices were heard on the ship, and the Queen appeared, preceded by several lantern-bearers and followed by a numerous train of court officials, pages, maids, and female slaves.  Cleopatra’s little hand rested on Charmian’s arm, as, with a haughty carriage of the head, she moved towards the shore.  A thick veil covered her face, and a large, dark cloak concealed her figure.  How elastic her step was still! how proud yet graceful was the gesture with which she waved a greeting to Mardion and Zeno.

Extending her hand to raise Iras, who had sunk prostrate before her, she kissed her on the forehead, whispering, “The children?”

“All is well with them,” replied the girl.

Then the returning sovereign greeted the others with a gracious gesture, but vouchsafed a word to no one until the eunuch stepped before her to deliver his address of welcome.  She motioned him aside with a curt “Later”; and when Zeno held open the door of the litter, she said in a stifled tone:  “I will walk.  After the rocking of the galley in this tempest, I feel reluctant to enter the litter.  There are many things to be considered