Only too glad to be out of the crush and danger, the girl nimbly climbed into the chariot, and, after hastily greeting the father and daughter, signed to Marcus to follow her; but Demetrius held his brother back, and it was hurriedly agreed that Dada should be sent for that evening to the house of Porphyrius.  Demetrius whispered a few words of enthusiastic praise of the little singer into Gorgo’s ear; then the carriage moved on again.  Many of the heathen who had collected round it recognized Porphyrius, the noble friend of the great Olympius, and cleared a passage for him, so that at last he got out of the gate uninjured, and turned into the quieter street of Euergetes which led to the temple of Isis, the ship-yard and the merchant’s residence.

But few words were exchanged in the chariot, for it was only step by step and with considerable difficulty that the horses could get along.  It was now quite dark and the mob had spread even into this usually deserted quarter.

A flaring glow that tinged the temple, the wharf and the deep sky itself with a gorgeous crimson glare, showed very plainly what the populace were employed in doing.  The monks had set fire to the temple of Isis and the flames had been driven by the northwest wind down into the ship-yard, where they had found ample food in the enormous timber stacks and the skeletons of ships.  Tall jets of rushing and crackling sparks were thrown skywards to mingle with the paler stars.  Porphyrius could see what danger his house was in; but thanks to the old steward’s foresight and the indefatigable diligence of the slaves, it escaped the conflagration.

The two brothers, meanwhile, had left the mob far behind them.  Demetrius was not alone, and as soon as he had introduced Marcus to his companion, an abbot of friendly mien, the monk warmly expressed his pleasure at meeting another son of Apelles, to whom he had once owed his life.  Demetrius then told his brother what his adventures had been during the last few hours, and where he had met this worthy Father.

While taking Dada down into the arena to join Marcus, he had caught sight of Anubis, the Egyptian slave who had been his father’s companion in his last memorable journey to Syria, and who, since the death of Apelles, had totally disappeared, the countryman had instantly followed him, seized him—­not without a struggle and some little danger—­and then had him led off by the city-guard to the prison by the Prefect’s house.  Once secured he had been induced to speak, and his narrative proved beyond a doubt that Apelles had perished in a skirmish with the Saracens; the Egyptian slave had only taken advantage of his master’s death to make off with the money he had with him.  He had found his way to Crete, where he had purchased a plot of ground with his plunder; but then, craving to see his wife and children once more, he had come back to fetch them away to his new home.  Finally, to confirm the truth of his story, which—­clearing him