In the days when Karnis was the manager of the theatre at Tauromenium Medius had led the chorus, and had received much kindness at the hands of the girl’s uncle.  All this, he thought, he could now repay, for certainly his old patron was poor enough, and he intended honestly to share with his former benefactor the profits he expected to realize with so fair a prodigy as Dada.  No harm could come to the girl, and gold—­said he to himself—­glitters as brightly and is just as serviceable, even when it has been earned for us against our will.

Medius, being a cautious man, made the girl bring her new dress away with her, and the girdle and jewels belonging to it, and his neat hands packed everything into the smallest compass.  He filled up the basket which he took for the purpose with sweetmeats, oranges and pomegranates “for the children at home,” and easily consoled Dada for the loss of her shoes.  He would lead the ass and she should ride.  She covered her face with a veil, and her little feet could be hidden under her dress.  When they reached his house he would at once have “a sweet little pair of sandals” made for her by the shoemaker who worked for the wife of the Comes and the daughters of the Alabarch—­[The chief of the Jewish colony in Alexandria.]—­These preparations and the start only took a few minutes; and their rapid search and broken conversation caused so much absurd confusion that Dada had quite recovered her spirits and laughed merrily as she tripped bare-foot across the strand.  She sprang gaily on to the little donkey and as they made their way along the road, the basket containing her small wardrobe placed in front of her on the ass’s shoulders, she remarked that she should be mistaken for the young wife of a shabby old husband, returning from market with a load of provisions.

She was delighted to think of what Herse’s face would be when, on her return home, she should discover that the prisoner could make her escape even without shoes.

“Let her have a good hunt for me!” she cried quite enchanted.  “Why should I always be supposed to be ready for folly and wickedness!  But one thing I warn you:  If I am not comfortable and happy with you, and if I do not like the parts you want me to fill, we part as quickly as we have come together.—­Why are you taking me through all these dirty alleys?  I want to ride through the main streets and see what is going on.”  But Medius would not agree to this, for in the great arteries of the town there were excitement and tumult, and they might think themselves fortunate if they reached his house unmolested.

He lived in a little square, between the Greek quarter and Rhacotis where the Egyptians lived, and his house, which was exactly opposite the church of St. Marcus, accommodated Medius himself, his wife, his widowed daughter and her five children, besides being crammed from top to bottom with all sorts of strange properties, standing or hanging in every available space.  Dada’s curiosity had no rest, and by the time she had spent a few hours in the house her host’s pretty little grandchildren were clinging to her with devoted affection.