so long as Caesar was in Alexandria.  He (Argutis) would go instead of Philip, who, for his part, might call on the prefect later.  He would cross the lake and warn Melissa not to return home, and to tell Alexander what he might think necessary.  The watch might possibly follow Argutis; but he knew every lane and alley, and could mislead and avoid them.  Philip had listened to reason.  The slave went, and must now soon be back again.

Of how different a home-coming had Melissa dreamed!  What new and terrible griefs were these!  Still, though distressed at the thought of her vehement father in prison, she shed no tears, but told herself that matters could only be mended by rational action on behalf of the victims, and not by lamentations.  She must be alone, to collect her strength and consider the situation.  So she desired Dido, to her great amazement, to prepare some food, and bring her wine and water.  Then, seating herself, with a melancholy glance at her embroidery where it lay folded together, she rested her elbow on the table and her head in her hand, considering to whom she could appeal to save her father.

First she thought of Caesar himself, whose eye had met hers, and for whom she had prayed and offered sacrifice.  But the blood fired her cheeks at the thought, and she repelled it at once.  Yet her mind would linger at the Serapeum, where her lover, too, still rested his fevered head.  She knew that the high-priests’ spacious lodgings there, with their splendid rooms and banqueting halls, had been prepared for the emperor; and she remembered various things which her brother had told her of Timotheus, who was at the head not only of the heathen priesthood, but also of the museum.  He was said to be a philosopher, and Philip had more than once been distinguished by him, and invited to his house.  Her brother must apply to him.  He, who was in a way Caracalla’s host, would easily succeed in obtaining her father’s release, from his imperial guest.

Her grave face brightened at this thought, and, while she ate and drank, another idea struck her.  Alexander, too, must be known to the high-priest; for Timotheus was the brother of Seleukus, whose daughter the artist had just painted, and Timotheus had seen the portrait and praised it highly.  Thus it was not improbable that the generous man would, if Philip besought him, intercede for Alexander.  So all might turn out better than she had ventured to hope.

Firmly convinced that it was her part to rescue her family, she once more reviewed in her mind every acquaintance to whom she might look for aid; but even during her meditations her tired frame asserted its rights, and when Dido came in to remove the remains of the meal and the empty wine-cup, she found Melissa sunk in sleep.