They were anxious to learn whether the rumour that Didymus’s garden was to be taken for the twin statues had already spread abroad, and their first questions revealed that this was the case.  It was even stated that the old sage’s house was to be torn down, and within a few hours.  This was vehemently contradicted; but a tall, scrawny man seemed to have undertaken to defend the ruler’s violence.

The friends knew him well.  It was the Syrian Philostratus, a clever extempore speaker and agitator of the people, who placed his clever tongue at the disposal of the highest bidder.

“The rascal is probably now in my uncle’s employ,” said Dion.  “The idea of putting the piece of sculpture there originated with him, and it is difficult to turn him from such plans.  There is some secret object to be gained here.  That is why they have brought Philostratus.  I wonder if the conspiracy is connected in any way with Barine, whose husband—­unfortunately for her—­he was before he cast her off.”

“Cast her off!” exclaimed Gorgias wrathfully.  “How that sounds!  True, he did it, but to persuade him the poor woman sacrificed half the fortune her father had earned by his brush.  You know as well as I that life with that scoundrel would be unbearable.”

“Very true,” replied Dion quietly.  “But as all Alexandria melted into admiration after her singing of the ‘yalemos’ at the Adonis festival, she no longer needed her contemptible consort.”

“How can you take pleasure, whenever it is possible, in casting such slurs upon a woman, whom but yesterday you called blameless, charming, peerless?”

“That the light she sheds may not dazzle your eyes.  I know how sensitive they are.”

“Then spare, instead of irritating them.  Besides, your suggestion gives food for thought Barine is the granddaughter of the man whose garden they want, and the advocate would probably be glad to injure both.  But I’ll spoil his game.  It is my business to choose the site for the statues.”

“Yours?” replied Dion.  “Unless some on who is more powerful opposes you.  I would try to win my uncle, but there are others superior to him.  The Queen has gone, it is true; but Iras, whose commands do not die away in empty air, told me this morning that she had her own ideas about the erection of the statue.”

“Then you bring Philostratus here!” cried the architect.

“I?” asked the other in amazement.

“Ay, you,” asserted Gorgias.  “Did not you say that Iras, with whom you played when a boy is now becoming troublesome by watching your every step?  And then—­you visit Barine constantly and she so evidently prefers you, that the fact might easily reach the ears of Iras.”