in her childhood, and was the self-same quick-witted man who had so often roused her to argument.  His share in a popular insurrection against the Roman rule had led to his being carried as a slave to the Tiber.  There he soon purchased his freedom, and attained such distinction that Octavianus entrusted this important mission to the man who was so well known in Alexandria.  Archibius was to meet him at the house of Arius, who was still suffering from the wounds inflicted by the chariot-wheels of Antyllus, and Berenike had accompanied Timagenes to her brother.

Charmian did not venture to go there; a visit to Octavianus’s former teacher would have been misinterpreted, and it was repugnant to her own delicacy of feeling to hold intercourse at this time with the foe and conqueror of her royal mistress.  She therefore let her brother drive with Berenike to the injured man’s; but before his departure Archibius had promised, if the worst came, to dare everything to open the eyes of the Queen, who had forbidden her, Charmian, to speak in behalf of Barine and thwart the plans of Alexas.

From the Paneum garden she was carried to the Kanopic Way and the Jewish quarter, where she had many important purchases to make for Cleopatra.  It was long after noon when the litter was again borne to Lochias.

On the way she had severely felt her own powerlessness.  Without having accomplished anything herself, she was forced to wait for the success of others; and she had scarcely crossed the threshold of the palace ere fresh cares were added to those which already burdened her soul.

She understood how to read the faces of courtiers, and the door-keeper’s had taught her that since her departure something momentous had occurred.  She disliked to question the slaves and lower officials, so she refrained, though the interior of the palace was crowded with guards, officials of every grade, attendants, and slaves.  Many who saw her gazed at her with the timidity inspired by those over whom some disaster is im pending.  Others, whose relations were more intimate, pressed forward to enjoy the mournful satisfaction of being the first messengers of evil tidings.  But she passed swiftly on, keeping them back with grave words and gestures, until, before the door of the great anteroom thronged with Greek and Egyptian petitioners, she met Zeno, the Keeper of the Seal.  Charmian stopped him and inquired what had happened.

“Since when?” asked the old courtier.  “Every moment has brought some fresh tidings and all are mournful.  What terrible times, Charmian, what disasters!”

“No messenger had arrived when I left the Lochias,” replied Charmian.  “Now it seems as though the old monster of a palace, accustomed to so many horrors, is holding its breath in dread.  Tell me the main thing, at least, before I meet the Queen.”

 The main thing?  Pestilence or famine—­which shall we call the worse?”