To this many of them agreed; still, there was no time for such reflections till the dust had shrouded the chariot, which vanished as quickly as it had come, till the shouting was stilled, and the crowd had spread over the roadway again.  Then they began to ask themselves why they had joined in the acclamations, and had been so wildly excited; how it was that they had so promptly surrendered their self-possession and dignity for the sake of this wicked little man.  Perhaps it was his unlimited control over the weal and woe of the world, over the life and death of millions, which raised a mortal, not otherwise formed for greatness, so far above common humanity to a semblance of divinity.  Perhaps it was the instinctive craving to take part in the grand impulsive expression of thousands of others that had carried away each individual.  It was beyond a doubt a mysterious force which had compelled every one to do as his neighbors did as soon as Caesar had appeared.

Melissa had succumbed with the rest; she had shouted and waved her kerchief, and had not heeded Andreas when he held her hand and asked her to consider what a criminal this man was whom she so eagerly hailed.  It was not till all was still again that she recollected herself, and her determination to get the famous physician to visit her lover revived in renewed strength.

Fully resolved to dare all, she looked about with calm scrutiny, considering the ways and means of achieving her purpose without any aid from Andreas.  She was in a fever of impatience, and longed to force her way at once into the Serapeum.  But that was out of the question, for no one moved from his place.  There was, however, plenty to be seen.  A complete revulsion of feeling had come over the crowd.  In the place of Expectancy, its graceless step-child, Disappointment, held sway.  There were no more shouts of joy; men’s lungs were no longer strained to the utmost, but their tongues were all the busier.  Caesar was for the most part spoken of with contempt as Tarautas, and with the bitterness—­the grandchild of Expectancy-which comes of disappointment.  Tarautas had originally been the name of a stunted but particularly bloodthirsty gladiator, in whom ill-will had traced some resemblance to Caesar.

The more remarkable figures in the imperial train were curiously gazed at and discussed.  A worker in mosaic, who stood near Melissa, had been employed in the decoration of the baths of Caracalla at Rome, and had much information to impart; he even knew the names of several of the senators and courtiers attached to Caesar.  And, with all this, time was found to give vent to discontent.