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.

Shaking her head, and saying to herself that it served the old man right for his cruel treatment of a dutiful child—­though, for Alexander’s sake, she might have tried to keep awake—­the faithful soul pushed a cushion under the girl’s head, drew the screen across the window, and stood waving off the flies which buzzed about her darling’s flushed face, till presently the dog barked, and an energetic knock shook the house-door.  Melissa started from her slumbers, the old woman threw aside the fan, and, as she hurried to admit the vehement visitor, cried out to Melissa: 

“Be easy, dear child—­be easy.  It is nothing; depend upon that.  I know the knock; it is only Philip.”

CHAPTER XIV.

Dido was right.  Heron’s eldest son had returned from his errand.  Tired, disappointed, and with fierce indignation in his eyes, he staggered in like a drunken man who has been insulted in his cups; and, without greeting her—­as his mother had taught her children to greet even their slaves—­he merely asked in hoarse tones, “Is Melissa come in?”

“Yes, yes,” replied Dido, laying her finger to her lips.  “You roused her from a nap.  And what a state you are in!  You must not let her see you so!  It is very clear what news you bring.  The prefect will not help us?”

“Help us!” echoed Philip, wrathfully.  “In Alexandria a man may drown rather than another will risk wetting his feet.”

“Nay, it is not so bad as that,” said the old woman.  “Alexander himself has burned his fingers for others many a time.  Wait a minute.  I will fetch you a draught of wine.  There is some still in the kitchen; for if you appear before your sister in that plight—­”

But Melissa had recognized her brother’s voice, and, although Philip had smoothed his hair a little with his hands, one glance at his face showed her that his efforts had been vain.

“Poor boy!” she said, when, in answer to her question as to what his news was, he had answered gloomily, “As bad as possible.”

She took his hand and led him into the work-room.  There she reminded him that she was giving him a new brother in Diodoros; and he embraced her fondly, and wished her and her betrothed every happiness.  She thanked him out of a full heart, while he swallowed his wine, and then she begged him to tell her all he had done.