“My senator must talk to you on the road, and if you can be brought to reason you will find your reward waiting for you!  Do not be saving of your talents of gold, old man, till the general has promised to procure the lad’s release.—­And listen to me, Orion; give up your mad scheme.”

The sun had not wholly disappeared behind the Libyan range when the snorting Pannonians, all flecked with foam, drove back into the court-yard of the governor’s residence.  The two men had unfortunately gained nothing; for Amru was absent, reviewing the troops between Heliopolis and Onix, and was not expected home till night or even next morning.  The party had removed from the inn and the senator’s white slaves were already mixing with the black and brown ones of the establishment.

Martina was delighted with her new quarters, and with the beautiful flowers—­most of them new to her—­with which the invalid mistress of the house had had the two great reception-rooms garnished in token of welcome; but the failure of Justinus’ visit to Fostat fell like hoar-frost on her happy mood.

Orion, she asserted, ought to regard this stroke of ill-luck as a judgment from God.  It was the will of Heaven that he should give up his enterprise and be content to make due preparations for a noble work which could be carried through without him, in order to accomplish another, out of friendship, which urgently needed his help.  However, he again expressed his regret that in spite of everything he must adhere to his purpose; and when Martina asked him:  “What, even if my reward is one that would especially delight you?” he nodded regretfully.  “Yes, even then.”

So she merely added, “Well, we shall see,” and went on impressively:  “Every one has some peculiarity which stamps his individuality and becomes him well:  in you it is amiability, my son.  Such obstinacy does not suit you; it is quite foreign to you, and is the very opposite to what I call amiability.  Be yourself, even in this instance.”

“That is to say weak and yielding, especially when a kind woman. . . .”

“When old friends ask it,” she hastily put in; but almost before she had finished she turned to her husband, exclaiming:  “Good Heavens! come to the window.  Did you ever see such a glorious mingling of purple and gold in the sky?  It is as though the old pyramids and the whole land of Egypt were in flames.  But now, great Sesostris,”—­the name she gave to Orion when she was in a good humor with him, “it is time that you should see what I have brought you.  In the first place this trinket,” and she gave him a costly bracelet of old Greek workmanship set with precious stones, “and then—­nay, no Thanks—­and then—­Well the object is rather large, and besides—­come with me.”

As she spoke she went from the reception-room into the anteroom, led the way to the door of the room which had once been Paula’s, and then his own, opened it a little way, peeped in, and then pushed Orion forward, saying hastily:  “There—­do you see—­there it is!”