Didymus and his family had reason to be grateful; and when the old sage found in the large library which the architect placed at his disposal many excellent books and among them some of his own, he ceased his restless pacing to and fro and forced himself to settle down.  Then he remembered that, by the advice of a friend, he had placed his property in the keeping of a reliable banker and, though life still seemed dark grey, it no longer looked as black as before.

Gorgias briefly related all this to the Nubian, and Dion added that she would find Archibius with his Roman friend at the house of Berenike’s brother, the philosopher Arius.  Like himself, the latter was suffering from an injury inflicted by a reckless trick of Antyllus.  Barine’s mother was there also, so Anukis could inform them of the fate of Didymus and his brother, and tell them that he, Dion, intended to leave her house and the city an hour after sunset.

“But,” interrupted Gorgias, “no one, not even your hostess Berenike and her brother, must know your destination.—­You look as if you could keep a secret, woman.”

“Though she owes her nickname Aisopion to her nimble tongue,” replied Dion.

“But this tongue is like the little silver fish with scarlet spots in the palace garden,” said Anukis.  “They dart to and fro nimbly enough; but as soon as danger threatens they keep as quiet in the water as though they were nailed fast.  And—­by mighty Isis!—­we have no lack of peril in these trying times.  Would you like to see the lady Berenike and the others before your departure?”

“Berenike, yes; but the sons of Arius—­they are fine fellows—­would be wise to keep aloof from this house to-day.”

“Yes indeed!” the architect chimed in.  “It will be prudent for their father, too, to seek some hiding-place.  He is too closely connected with Octavianus.  It may indeed happen that the Queen will desire to make use of him.  In that case he may be able to aid Barine, who is his sister’s child.  Timagenes, too, who comes from Rome as a mediator, may have some influence.”

“The same thoughts entered my poor brain also,” said Anukis.  “I am now going to show the gentlemen the danger which threatens her, and if I succeed—­Yet what could a serving-woman of my appearance accomplish?  Still—­my house is nearer to the brink of the stream than the dwelling of most others, and if I fling in a loaf, perhaps the current will bear it to the majestic sea.”

“Wise Aisopion!” cried Dion; but the worthy maid-servant shrugged her crooked shoulders, saying:  “We needn’t be free-born to find pleasure in what is right; and if being wise means using one’s brains to think, with the intention of promoting right and justice, you can always call me so.  Then you will start after sundown?”

With these words she was about to leave the room, but the architect, who had watched her every movement, had formed a plan and begged her to follow him.