No signs of troubled times were to be seen in the floating home of the wanderers.  The steward had provided for everything.  There were rooms and beds to spare in the vessel; the large deck-cabin was a comfortable sitting-room, and from the little galley at the prow came a savory smell of cooking and a cheerful clang of pots and pans.

“This is living!” exclaimed Karnis, stretching himself comfortably on a divan.  “This abode seems made on purpose for our noble selves!  Sit down, mother, make yourself at home.  Here we are people of consequence, and if it were only to make things pleasant for the slaves we must behave as though we had never known people who take their meals squatted round an earthen bowl, and clawing out the broken meat.  Enjoy the gifts of the present—­who knows how long this golden hour may last!  Ah, wife, it reminds us of former times!  It would be very pleasant to be like this, side by side, and help ourselves from a table all our own to dainty dishes which we had not assisted in cooking.  For you, old woman, have done everything with your own hands for so long, that you deserve to have some one to wait on you for once.”

A little table was placed by each divan and covered with appetizing food; the steward mixed some fine wine of the country with fresh, clear water, Orpheus offered the libation, and Karnis spiced the meal with jests and tales of his youth, of which he had been reminded by his meeting with his old friend and comrade Olympius.

Dada interrupted him frequently, laughing more loudly and recklessly than usual; she was in a fever of excitement and Herse did not fail to remark it.  The good woman was somewhat uneasy.  The very fact that her husband always gave himself up heart and soul to the influences of the hour—­though she was glad that he should enjoy this good fortune to the utmost—­made her look beyond the present into the future.  She had seen with her own eyes the tumult that was rife in Alexandria, and felt that they had arrived at an inauspicious moment.  If it should come to a struggle between the Christians and the Heathen, Karnis, finding that his old friend Olympius was the head of his party, would infallibly seize the sword, and if, then, the victory remained with the Christians no mercy would be shown to those who had fought for the old gods.  Gorgo’s wish that Agne should sing in the temple of Isis was another source of anxiety; for if it came to that they might, only too probably, be accused of perverting a Christian to heathen worship, and be condemned to a severe penalty.  All this had worn a very different aspect yesterday when she had thought of Alexandria as the gay home of her youth; but now she saw what a change had taken place in these thirty years.  The Church had risen on the ruins of the Temple, and monks had forced the sacrificing priests into the background.