herself to conceal the terror which the news inspired.  Her mistress was also aware what this choice meant to Barine.  But Anukis would have thought it wrong to disturb Charmian’s sleep by revealing her own distress.  It was fortunate that she was going early the next morning to seek the aid of Archibius, whom Anukis believed to be the wisest of men; but this by no means soothed her.  She knew the fable of the lion and the mouse, which had been told in her home long before the time of the author for whom she was nicknamed, and already more than once she had been in a position to render far greater and more powerful persons an important service.  To soothe Charmian to sleep and turn her thoughts in another direction, she told her about Dion, whom she had found much better that day, how tenderly he seemed to love Barine, and how touchingly patient and worthy of her father the daughter of Leonax had been.

After her mistress had fallen asleep she went to the hall where, spite of the late hour, she expected to meet some of the servants—­sure of being greeted as a welcome guest.  When, a short time later, Alexas’s body-slave appeared, she filled his wire cup, sat down by his side, and tried with all the powers at her command to win his confidence.  And so well did the elderly Nubian succeed that Marsyas, a handsome young Ligurian, after she had gone, declared that Aisopion’s jokes and stories were enough to bring the dead to life, and it was as pleasant to talk seriously with the brown-skinned monster as to dally with a fair-haired sweetheart.

After Charmian had left the palace the following morning, Anukis again sought Marsyas and learned from him for what purpose and at what hour Iras had summoned Alexas.  His master was continually whispering with the languishing Macedonian.

When Anukis returned, Barine seemed troubled because she brought no tidings from her mother and Dion; but the Nubian entreated her to have patience, and gave her some books and a spindle, that she might have occupation in her solitude.  She, Anukis, must go to the kitchen, because she had heard yesterday that the cook had bought some mushrooms, which might be poisonous; she knew the fungi and wanted to see them.

Then, passing into Charmian’s chamber, she glided through the corridor which connected the apartments of Cleopatra’s confidential attendants, and slipped into Iras’s room.  When Alexas entered she was concealed behind one of the hangings which covered the walls of the reception-room.

After the Syrian had retired and Iras had been called away, Anukis returned to Barine and said that the mushrooms had really been poisonous, and of the deadliest species.  They had been cooked, and she must go out to seek an antidote.  Since a precious human life might be at stake, Barine would not wish to keep her.

“Go,” said the latter, kindly.  “But if you are the old obliging Aisopion, you won’t object to going a little farther.”