Adverntus whispered to him where he had taken her, to avoid the persecuting glances of the numerous strangers, and Caracalla nodded to him approvingly and went into the next room.

She sat there with the zithern, letting her fingers glide gently over the strings.

On his entering, she drew back hastily; but he cried to her brightly:  “Do not disturb yourself.  I love that instrument.  I am having a statue erected to Mesomedes, the great zithern-player—­you perhaps know his songs.  This evening, when the feast and the press of work are over, I will hear how you play.  I will also playa few airs to you.”

Melissa then plucked up courage and said, decidedly:  “No, my lord; I am about to bid you farewell for to-day.”

“That sounds very determined,” he answered, half surprised and half amused.  “But may I be allowed to know what has made you decide on this step?”

“There is a great deal of work waiting for you,” she replied, quietly.

“That is my affair, not yours,” was the crushing answer.

“It is also mine,” she said, endeavoring to keep calm; “for you have not yet completely recovered, and, should you require my help again this evening, I could not attend to your call.”

“No?” he asked, wrathfully, and his eyelids began to twitch.

“No, my lord; for it would not be seemly in a maiden to visit you by night, unless you were ill and needed nursing.  As it is, I shall meet your friends—­my heart stands still only to think of it—­”

“I will teach them what is due to you!” Caracalla bellowed out, and his brow was knit once more.

“But you can not compel me,” she replied, firmly, “to change my mind as to what is seemly,” and the courage which failed her if she met a spider, but which stood by her in serious danger as a faithful ally, made her perfectly steadfast as she eagerly added:  “Not an hour since you promised me that so long as I remained with you I should need no other protector, and might count on your gratitude.  But those were mere words, for, when I besought you to grant me some repose, you scorned my very reasonable request, and roughly ordered me to remain and attend on you.”

At this Caesar laughed aloud.

“Just so!  You are a woman, and like all the rest.  You are sweet and gentle only so long as you have your own way.”

“No, indeed,” cried Melissa, and her eyes filled with tears.  “I only look further than from one hour to the next.  If I should sacrifice what I think right, merely to come and go at my own will, I should soon be not only miserable myself, but the object of your contempt.”

Overcome by irresistible distress, she broke into loud sobs; but Caracalla, with a furious stamp of his foot, exclaimed: 

“No tears!  I can not, I will not see you weep.  Can any harm come to you?  Nothing but good; nothing but the best of happiness do I propose for you.  By Apollo and Zeus, that is the truth!  Till now you have been unlike other women, but when you behave like them, you shall—­I swear it —­you shall feel which of us two is the stronger!”