As the Syrian held out his hand to take leave, she asked bluntly

“And Dion?”

“He cannot be set free,” was the reply, “for he loves Barine; nay, the fool was on the eve of leading her home to his beautiful palace as its mistress.”

“Is that true, really true?” asked Iras, whose cheeks and lips lost every tinge of colour, though she succeeded in maintaining her composure.

“He confessed it yesterday in a letter to his uncle, the Keeper of the Seal, in which he entreated him to do his utmost for his chosen bride, whom he would never resign.  But Zeno has no liking for this niece.  Do you wish to see the letter?”

“Then, of course, he cannot be set at liberty,” replied Iras, and there was additional shrillness in her voice.  “He will do everything in his power for the woman he loves, and that is much—­far more than you, who are half a stranger here, suspect.  The Macedonian families stand by each other.  He is a member of the council.  The bands of the Ephebi will support him to a man.  And the populace?—­He lately spoiled the game of your brother, who was acting for me, in a way.  He was finally dragged out of the basin of the fountain, dripping with water and overwhelmed with shame.”

“For that very reason his mouth must be closed.”

Iras nodded assent, but after a short pause she exclaimed angrily:  “I will help you to silence him, but not forever.  Do you hear?  Theodotus’s saying about the dead dogs which do not bite brought no blessing to any one who followed it.  There are other ways of getting rid of this man.”

“A bird sang that you were not unfriendly to him.”

“A bird?  Then it was probably an owl, which cannot see in the daylight.  His worst enemy, your brother, would probably sacrifice himself for his welfare sooner than I.”

“Then I shall begin to feel sympathy for this Dion.”

“I saw recently that your compassion surpassed mine.  Death is not the hardest punishment.”

“Is that the cause of this gracious respite?”

“Perhaps so.  But there are other matters to be considered here.  First, the condition of the times.  Everything is tottering, even the royal power, which a short time ago was a wall which concealed many things and afforded shelter from every assault.  Then Dion himself.  I have already numbered those who will support him.  Since the defeat at Actium, the Queen can no longer exclaim to that many-headed monster, the people, ’You must,’ but ‘I entreat.’  The others—­”

“The first considerations are enough; but may I be permitted to know what my wise friend has awarded to the hapless wight from whom she withdrew her favour?”

“First, imprisonment here at Lochias.  He has stained his hands with the blood of Caesarion, the King of kings.  That is high treason, even in the eyes of the people.  Try to obtain the order for the arrest this very day.”

“Whenever I can disturb the Queen with such matters.”