Melissa nodded gayly, and rejoined, “The blunt weapon that I carry would surely not cost Caesar his life, even if he were no future immortal.”

“Scarcely,” answered Philostratus; “but what he may suffer through you will drive him to turn his own all-too-sharp sword against others.  Caracalla being a man, my calculations regarding him have generally proved right.  You will see how firmly I believe in them in this case, when I tell you that I have already taken advantage of a letter brought by the messengers of the empress-mother to take my leave of the emperor.  For, I reasoned, if Melissa listens to the emperor, she will need no other confederate than the boy Eros; if, however, she takes flight—­then woe betide those who are within range of the tyrant’s arm, and ten times woe to me who brought the fugitive before his notice!  Early to-morrow, before Caracalla leaves his couch, I shall return with the messengers to Julia; my place in the ship—­”

“O my lord,” interrupted Melissa, in consternation, “if you, my kind protector, forsake me, to whom shall I look for help?”

“You will not require it if you carry out your intentions,” said the philosopher.  “Throughout this day you will doubtless need me; and let me impress upon you once more to behave before Caracalla in such a manner that even his suspicious mind may not guess what you intend to do.  To-day you will still find me ready to help you.  But, hark!  That is Caesar raging again.  It is thus he loves to dismiss ambassadors, when he wishes they should clearly understand that their conditions are not agreeable to him.  And one word more:  When a man has grown gray, it is doubly soothing to his heart that a lovely maiden should so frankly regret the parting.  I was ever a friend of your amiable sex, and even to this day Eros is sometimes not unfavorably inclined to me.  But you, the more charming you are, the more deeply do I regret that I may not be more to you than an old and friendly mentor.  But pity at first kept love from speaking, and then the old truth that every woman’s heart may be won save that which already belongs to another.”

The elderly admirer of the fair sex spoke these words in such a pleasant, regretful tone that Melissa gave him an affectionate glance from her large, bright eyes, and answered, archly:  “Had Eros shown Philostratus the way to Melissa instead of Diodoros, Philostratus might now be occupying the place in this heart which belongs to the son of Polybius, and which must always be his in spite of Caesar!”

CHAPTER XXI V.

The door of the tablinum flew open, and through it streamed the Parthian ambassadors, seven stately personages, wearing the gorgeous costume of their country, and followed by an interpreter and several scribes.  Melissa noticed how one of them, a young warrior with a fair beard framing his finely molded, heroic face, and thick, curling locks escaping from beneath his tiara, grasped the hilt of his sword in his sinewy hand, and how his neighbor, a cautious, elderly man, was endeavoring to calm him.