She heard him say that his mouth was quite parched and his throat was longing for a draught of some drink, and she—­who usually had every pin she needed handed to her by a slave, and on whom fate had bestowed no living creature whom she could find a pleasure in serving—­she, with her own hand dipped a cup of water out of the large clay jar that stood in a corner of the room and offered it to him with a request that he would drink it.  He eagerly swallowed the refreshing fluid, and when the little cup was empty Balbilla took it from his hand, refilled it, and gave it him again.

Claudia, who woke up when the architect came in, looked on at her foster-child’s unheard-of proceedings with astonishment, shaking her head.  When Pontius had drained the third cupful that Balbilla fetched for him he exclaimed, drawing a deep breath: 

“That was a drink—­I never tasted a better in the whole course of my life.”

“Muddy water out of a nasty earthen pitcher!” answered the girl.

“And it tasted better than wine from Byblos out of a golden goblet.”

“You had honestly earned the refreshment, and thirst gives flavor to the humblest liquor.”

“You forget the hand that gave it me,” replied the architect warmly.

Balbilla colored and looked at the floor in confusion, but presently raised her face and said, as gayly and carelessly as ever: 

“So that you have been deliciously refreshed; and now that is done you will go home and the poor thirsty soul will once more become the great architect.  But before that happens, pray inform us what god it was that brought you hither from Pelusium in the very nick of time when the fire broke out, and how matters look now in the palace at Lochias?”

“My time is short,” replied Pontius, and he then rapidly told her that, after he had finished his work at Pelusium, he had returned to Alexandria with the imperial post.  As he got out of the chariot at the post-house he observed the reflection of fire over the sea and was immediately after told by a slave that it was the palace that was burning.  There were horses in plenty at the post-house; he had chosen a strong one and had got to the spot before the crowd had collected.  How the fire had originated, so far remained undiscovered.  “Caesar,” he said, “was in the act of observing the heavens when a flame broke out in a store-shed close to the tower.  Antinous was the first to detect it, cried ‘Fire,’ and warned his master.  I found Hadrian in the greatest agitation; he charged me to superintend the work of rescuing all that could be saved.  At Lochias.  Verus helped me greatly and indeed with so much boldness and judgment that I owe very much to him.  Caesar himself kept his favorite within the palace, for the poor fellow burned both his hands.”

“Oh!” cried Balbilla with eager regret.  “How did that happen?”