Like Iras, he, too, could find no rest upon his couch, and when she heard his step she called to him and asked why he did not recover the sleep which he had lost.  No one knew the demands the next night might make upon him.

“You will find me awake,” he answered quietly.

Then he went to the window which, above the pylons that rose before the main front of the Sebasteum, afforded a view of the Bruchium and the sea.  The harbour was now swarming with vessels of every size, garlanded with flowers and adorned with gay flags and streamers.  The report of the successful issue of the first naval battle was believed, and many desired to greet the victorious fleet and hail their sovereign as she entered the harbour.

Many people, equipages, and litters had also gathered on the shore, between the lofty pylons and the huge door of the Sebasteum.  They were representatives of the aristocracy of the city; for the majority were attended by richly attired slaves.  Many wore costly garlands, and numerous chariots and litters were adorned with gold or silver ornaments, gems, and glittering paste.  The stir and movement in front of the palace were ceaseless, and Iras, who was now standing beside her uncle, waved her hand towards it, saying:  “The wind of rumour!  Yesterday only one or two came; to-day every one who belongs to the ‘Inimitable Livers’ flocks hither in person to get news.  The victory was proclaimed in the market-place, at the theatre, the gymnasium, and the camp.  Every one who wears garlands or weapons heard of a battle won.  Yesterday, among all the thousands, there was scarcely a single doubter; but to-day-how does it happen?  Even among those who as ‘Inimitables’ have shared all the pleasures, entertainments, and festivities of our noble pair, faith wavers; for if they were firmly convinced of the brilliant victory which was announced loudly enough, they would not come themselves to watch, to spy, to listen.  Just look down!  There is the litter of Diogenes—­yonder that of Ammonius.  The chariot beyond belongs to Melampous.  The slaves in the red bombyx garments serve Hermias.  They all belong to the society of—­’Inimitables,’ and shared our banquets.  That very Apollonius who, for the last half hour, has been trying to question the palace servants, day before yesterday ordered fifty oxen to be slaughtered to Ares, Nike, and the great Isis, as the Queen’s goddess, and when I met him in the temple he exclaimed that this was the greatest piece of extravagance he had ever committed; for even without the cattle Cleopatra and Antony would be sure of victory.  But now the wind of rumour has swept away his beautiful confidence also.  They are not permitted to see me.  The doorkeepers say that I am in the country.  The necessity of showing every one a face radiant with the joy of victory would kill me.  There comes Apollonius.  How his fat face beams!  He believes in the victory, and after sunset none of yonder throng will appear here; he is already giving orders to his slaves.  He will invite all his friends to a banquet, and won’t spare his costly wines.  Capital!  At least no one from that company can disturb us.  Dion is his cousin, and will be present also.  We shall see what these pleasure-lovers will do when they are forced to confront, the terrible reality.”