The question seemed to amuse Coeranus, but, seeing that his sister-in-law was very much in earnest, he dropped his flippant tone and admitted that Philostratus, as a young man, had been one of the last with whom he would trust a girl.  His far-famed letters sufficiently proved that the witty philosopher had been a devoted and successful courtier of women.  But that was all a thing of the past.  He still, no doubt, did homage to female beauty, but he led a regular life, and had become one of the most ardent and earnest upholders of religion and virtue.  He was one of the learned circle which gathered round Julia Domna, and it was by her desire that he had accompanied Caracalla, to keep his mad passions in check when it might be possible.

The conversation between Melissa and the philosopher had meanwhile taken an unexpected turn.  At his very first address the reply had died on her lips, for in Caesar’s representative she had recognized the Roman whom she had seen in the Temple of Asklepios, and who had perhaps overheard her there.  Philostratus, too, seemed to remember the meeting; for his shrewd face—­a pleasing mixture of grave and gay—­lighted up at once with a subtle smile as he said: 

“If I am not mistaken, I owe the same pleasure this evening to divine Caesar as to great Asklepios this morning?”

At this, Melissa cast a meaning glance at Coeranus and the lady, and, although surprise and alarm sealed her lips, her uplifted hands and whole gesture sufficiently expressed her entreaty that he would not betray her.  He understood and obeyed.  It pleased him to share a secret with this fair child.  He had, in fact, overheard her, and understood with amazement that she was praying fervently for Caesar.

This stirred his curiosity to the highest pitch.  So he said, in an undertone: 

“All that I saw and heard in the temple is our secret, sweet maid.  But what on earth can have prompted you to pray so urgently for Caesar?  Has he done you or yours any great benefit?”

Melissa shook her head, and Philostratus went on with increased curiosity: 

“Then are you one of those whose heart Eros can fire at the sight of an image, or the mere aspect of a man?”

To this she answered hastily: 

“What an idea!  No, no.  Certainly not.”

“No?” said her new friend, with greater surprise.  “Then perhaps your hopeful young soul expects that, being still but a youth, he may, by the help of the gods, become, like Titus, a benefactor to the whole world?”

Melissa looked timidly at the matron, who was still talking with her brother-in-law, and hastily replied: 

“They all call him a murderer!  But I know for certain that he suffers fearful torments of mind and body; and one who knows many things told me that there was not one among all the millions whom Caesar governs who ever prays for him; and I was so sorry—­I can not tell you—­”