“It had been impossible for me to warn her in time, or even to seize the traitor’s arm—­I have already said so—­and yet, yet her shining image gazed reproachfully at me for my cowardly delay.  Her glance still haunts me, robbing me of calmness and peace.  Not until I gaze into Helena’s pure, calm eyes will that terrible vision of the face, flooded by light in the midst of the tomb, cease to haunt me.”

His friend laid his hand on his arm, spoke soothingly to him, and reminded him of the blessings which this terrible day—­he had said so himself—­had brought.

Dion was right to give this warning; for Gorgias’s bearing and the very tone of his voice changed as he eagerly declared that the frightful events had been followed by more than happy ones for the city, his friend, and Barine.

Then, with a sigh of relief, he continued:  “I pursued my way home like a drunken man.  Every attempt to approach the Queen or her attendants was baffled, but I learned from Charmian’s clever Nubian that Cleopatra had been permitted, in Caesar’s name, to choose the palace she desired to occupy, and had selected the one at Lochias.

“I did not make much progress towards my house; the crowd in front of the great gymnasium stopped me.  Octavianus had gone into the city, and the people, I heard, had greeted him with acclamations and flung themselves on their knees before him.  Our stiff-necked Alexandrians in the dust before the victor!  It enraged me, but my resentment was diminished.

“The members of the gymnasium all knew me.  They made way and, ere I was aware of it, I had passed through the door.  Tall Phryxus had drawn my arm through his.  He appears and vanishes at will, is as alert as he is rich, sees and hears everything, and manages to secure the best places.  This time he had again succeeded; for when he released me we were standing opposite to a newly erected tribune.

“They were waiting for Octavianus, who was still in the hypostyle of Euergetes receiving the homage of the epitrop, the members of the Council, the gymnasiarch, and I know not how many others.

“Phryxus said that on Caesar’s entry he had held out his hand to his former tutor, bade him accompany him, and commanded that his sons should be presented.  The philosopher had been distinguished above every one else, and this will benefit you and yours; for he is Berenike’s brother, and therefore your wife’s uncle.  What he desires is sure to be granted.  You will hear at once how studiously the Caesar distinguishes him.  I do not grudge it to the man; he interceded boldly for Barine; he is lauded as an able scholar, and he does not lack courage.  In spite of Actium and the only disgraceful deed with which, to my knowledge, Mark Antony could be reproached—­I mean the surader of Turullius—­Arius remained here, though the Imperator might have held the friend of Julius Caesar’s nephew as a hostage as easily as he gave up the Emperor’s assassin.