“That and nothing else!” cried Karnis.  “How vexed the noble Olympius will be.  Indeed, Apollo be my witness!  I have not been so disturbed about anything for many a day.  Do you happen to recollect,” he went on, turning to Demetrius, “our conversation on board ship about a dirge for Pytho?  Well, we had transposed the lament of Isis into the Lydian mode, and when this young lady’s wonderful voice gave it out, in harmony with Agne’s and with Orpheus’ flute, it was quite exquisite!  My old heart floated on wings as I listened!  And only the day after to-morrow the whole crowd of worshippers in the temple of Isis were to enjoy that treat!—­It would have roused them to unheard-of enthusiasm.  Yesterday the girl was in it, heart and soul; nay, only this morning she and the noble Gorgo sang it through from beginning to end.  One more rehearsal to-morrow, and then the two voices would have given such a performance as perhaps was never before heard within the temple walls.”

Constantine had listened to this rhapsody with growing agitation; he was standing close to Gorgo, and while the rest of the party held anxious consultation as to what could be done to follow up and capture the fugitives, he asked Gorgo in a low voice, but with gloomy looks: 

“You intended to sing in the temple of Isis?  Before the crowd, and with a girl of this stamp?”

“Yes,” she said firmly.

“And you knew yesterday that I had come home?” She nodded.

“And yet, this morning even, while you were actually expecting me, you could practise the hymn with such a creature?”

“Agne is not such another as the girl who played tricks with your helmet,” replied Gorgo, and the black arches of her eyebrows knit into something very like a scowl.  “I told you just now that I was not yours today, nor to-morrow.  We still serve different gods.”

“Indeed we do!” he exclaimed, so vehemently that the others looked round, and old Damia again began to fidget in her chair.

Then with a strong effort he recovered himself and, after standing for some minutes gazing in silence at the ground, he said in a low tone: 

“I have borne enough for to-day.  Gorgo, pause, reflect.  God preserve me from despair!”

He bowed, hastily explained that his duties called him away, and left the spot.

CHAPTER XIII.

The amateurs of horse-racing who assembled in the Hippodrome could afford no clue to Dada’s hiding-place, because she had not, in fact, run away with any gay young gallant.  Within a few minutes of her sending Sachepris to fetch her a pair of shoes, Medius had hailed her from the shore; he wanted to speak with Karnis, and having come on an ass it was not in vain that the incensed damsel entreated him to take her with him.  He had in fact only come to try to persuade Karnis and his wife to spare Dada for a few performances, such as he had described, in the house of Posidonius.  His hopes of success had been but slender; and now the whole thing had settled itself, and Dada’s wish that her people should not, for a while, know where to find her was most opportune for his plans.