The despatch intended for Titianus charged him to proclaim publicly the adoption of the praetor, to arrange at the same time for a grand festival, and on that occasion to grant to the people, in Caesar’s name, all the boons and favors which by the traditional law of Egypt the Sovereign was expected to bestow at the birth of an heir to the throne.  The whole suite of the Imperial pair celebrated Hadrian’s decision by splendid banquets, but the Emperor did not himself take part in them, but crossed to the other bank of the Nile and went to Antaeopolis in the desert, meaning to penetrate from thence into the gorges of the Arabian desert and to chase wild beasts.  No one was to accompany him but Antinous, Mastor, and a few huntsmen and some dogs.

He meant to rejoin the ships at Besa.  He had postponed his visit to this place till the return journey, because he had travelled up by the western shore of the Nile, and the passage across the river would have taken up too much time.

The travellers’ tents were pitched one sultry evening in November, between the Nile and the limestone range, in which was arrayed a long row of tombs of the period of the Pharaohs.  Hadrian had gone to visit these, for the remarkable pictures on the walls delighted him, but Antinous remained behind, for he had already looked at similar works oftener than he cared for, in Upper Egypt.  He found these pictures monotonous and unlovely, and he had not the patience to investigate their meaning as his master did.  He had been a hundred times into the ancient rock-tombs, only not to leave Hadrian and not for his own amusement; but to-day—­he could hardly bear himself for impatience and excitement, for he knew that a ride, a walk, of a few hours, would carry him to Besa and to Selene.  The Emperor would remain absent three or four hours at any rate, and if he made up his mind to it he could have sought out the girl for whom his heart was longing before his return, and still be back again before his master.

But before acting he must reflect.  There was the Emperor climbing the hill-side where he could see him, and messengers were expected and he had been charged to receive them.  It they should bring bad news, his master must on no account be alone.  Ten times did he go up to his good hunter to leap upon his back; once he even took down the horse’s head-gear to put on his bridle, but in the very act of slipping the complicated bit between the teeth of his steed his resolution gave way.  During all this delay and hesitation the minutes slipped away, and at last it was so late that Hadrian might return and it was folly to think of carrying his plan into execution.  The expected express arrived with several letters, but the Emperor did not come back.  It grew dark, and heavy rain-drops fell from the overcast sky, and still Antinous was alone.  His anxious longing was mingled with regret for the lost opportunity of seeing Selene and alarm at the Emperor’s prolonged absence.