“Quick, Zeno!  I am expected.”

“I, too, am in haste, and really there is nothing to relate over which the tongue would care to dwell.  Candidus arrived first.  Came himself straight from Actium.  The fellow is bold enough.”

“Is the army defeated also?”

“Defeated, dispersed, deserted to the foe—­King Herod with his legions in the van.”

Charmian covered her face with her hands and groaned aloud, but Zeno continued: 

“You were with her in the flight.  When Mark Antony left you, he sailed with the ships which joined him for Paraetonium.  A large body of troops on which the Queen and Mardion had fixed their hopes was encamped there.  Reinforcements could easily be gained and we should once more have a fine army at our disposal.”

“Pinarius Scarpus, a cautious soldier, was in command; and I, too, believed—­”

“The more you trusted him, the greater would be your error.  The shameless rascal—­he owes everything to Antony—­had received tidings of Actium ere the ships arrived, and had already made overtures to Octavianus when the Imperator came.  The veterans who opposed the treachery were hewn down by the wretch’s orders, but the brave garrison of the city could not be won over to the monstrous crime.  It is due to these men that Mark Antony still lives and did not come to a miserable end at the hands of his own troops.  The twice-defeated general—­ a courier brought the news—­will arrive to-night.  Strangely enough, he will not come to Lochias, but to the little palace on the Choma.”

“Poor, poor Queen!” cried Charmian; “how did she bear all this?”

“In the presence of the defeated Candidus and Antony’s messenger like a heroine.  But afterwards——­Her raving did not last long; but the mute, despairing silence!  Ere she had fully recovered her self-command she sent us all away, and I have not seen her since.  But all the thoughts and feelings which dwell here”—­he pointed to his brow and breast—­“have left their abode and linger with her.  I totter from place to place like a soulless body.  O Charmian! what has befallen us?  Where are the days when care and trouble lay buried with the other dead—­the days and nights when my brain united with that of the Queen to transform this desolate earth into the beautiful Elysian Fields, every-day life to a festival, festivals to the very air of Olympus?  What unprecedented scenes of splendour had I not devised for the celebration of the victory, the triumph—­nay, even the entry into Rome!  Whole chests are filled with the sketches, programmes, drawings, and verses.  All who handle brush and chisel, compose and execute music, would have lent their aid, and—­you may believe me-the result would have been something which future generations would have discussed, lauded, and extolled in song.  And now—­now?”

“Now we will double our efforts to save what is yet to be rescued!”