The Roman eyed Andreas keenly, and the manly dignity, nay, the defiant self-possession of the freedman—­the very embodiment of all he had expected to find in a genuine Alexandrian—­so far won his confidence that he bade him speak without fear.  He hoped to hear something sufficiently characteristic of the manners of the provincial capital to make an anecdote for Caesar’s table.  Then, when he understood that the matter concerned Melissa’s brother, and a distinguished artist, he smiled expectantly.  Even when he learned that Alexander was being hunted down for some heedless jest against the emperor, he only threatened Melissa sportively with his finger; but on being told that this jest dealt with the murder of Geta, he seemed startled, and the tone of his voice betrayed serious displeasure as he replied to the petitioner, “Do you suppose that I have three heads, like the Cerberus at the feet of your god, that you ask me to lay one on the block for the smile of a pretty girl?”

He signed to his charioteer, and the horses whirled the light vehicle across the square and down the street of Hermes.

Andreas gazed after him, and muttered, with a shrug

“My first petition to a great man, and assuredly my last.”

“The coward!” cried Melissa; but Andreas said, with a superior smile.

“Let us take a lesson from this, my child.  Those who reckon on the help of man are badly off indeed.  We must all trust in God, and each in himself.”

CHAPTER XIII.

Andreas, who had so much on his shoulders, had lost much time, and was urgently required at home.  After gratifying Melissa’s wish by describing how Diodoros had immediately recovered consciousness on the completion of the operation performed by Galen, and painting the deep amazement that had fallen on all the other physicians at the skill of this fine old man, he had done all he could for the present to be of use to the girl.  He was glad, therefore, when in the street of Hermes, now swarming again with citizens, soldiers, and horsemen, he met the old nurse, who, after conducting Agatha home to her father, had been sent back to the town to remain in attendance, if necessary, on Diodoros.  The freedman left it to her to escort Melissa to her own home, and went back to report to Polybius—­in the first place, as to his son’s state.

It was decided that Melissa should for the present remain with her father; but, as soon as Diodoros should be allowed to leave the Serapeum, she was to go across the lake to receive the convalescent on his return home.