At last he took his leave; and now Praxilla had to direct the slaves who were to carry her brother to bed.  She carefully arranged the cushions on his couch, and gave him his medicine and night-draught.  Then she returned to Melissa, and the sight of the sleeping girl touched her heart.  She stood gazing at her for some time in silence, and then bent over her to wake her with a kiss.  She had at last made up her mind to regard the gem-cutter’s daughter as her niece, so, determined to treat her as a child of her own, she called Melissa by name.

This awoke the sleeper, and when she had realized that she was still in Polybius’s eating-room, she asked for Andreas.

“He has gone back to the town, my child,” replied Praxilla.  “He was anxious about your betrothed.”

“Is he worse, then?” asked Melissa, in alarm.  “No, no,” said the widow, soothingly.  “It is only—­I assure you we have heard nothing new—­”

“But what then?” Melissa inquired.  “The great Galen is to see him early to-morrow.”  Praxilla tried to divert her thoughts.  But as the girl would take no answer to her declaration that Galen himself had promised to see Diodoros, Praxilla, who was little used to self-command, and who was offended by her persistency, betrayed the fact that Melissa had spoken to the wrong man, and that Andreas was gone to remove Diodoros to the Serapeum.

At this, Melissa suddenly understood why Andreas had not rejoiced with her, and at the same time she said to herself that her lover must on no account be exposed to so great a danger without her presence.  She must lend her aid in transporting him to the Serapeum; and when she firmly expressed her views to the widow, Praxilla was shocked, and sincerely repented of having lost her self-control.  It was far too late, and when the housekeeper came into the room and gladly volunteered to accompany Melissa to the town, Praxilla threatened to rouse her brother, that he might insist on their remaining at home; but at last she relented, for the girl, she saw, would take her own way against any opposition.

The housekeeper had been nurse to Diodoros, and had been longing to help in tending him.  When she left the house with Melissa, her eyes were moist with tears of joy and thankfulness.

CHAPTER X.

The Nubian boat-keeper and his boy had soon ferried them across the lake.  Melissa and her companion then turned off from the shore into a street which must surely lead into that where the Christians dwelt.  Still, even as she went on, she began to be doubtful whether she had taken the right one; and when she came out by a small temple, which she certainly had not seen before, she knew not which way to go, for the streets here crossed each other in a perfect labyrinth, and she was soon obliged to confess to her companion that she had lost her road.  In the morning she had trusted herself to Andreas’s knowledge of the town, and while talking eagerly to him had paid no heed to anything else.