"I don't see what you mean," said poor Artemisia, looking dreadfully
puzzled.

"I mean," exclaimed the other, "what Sappho meant of the bride,--

'She like an apple turned red; which reddens far up on the tree-top:--
Upon the topmost of boughs,--the gatherers they have quite missed it.
Yes, they saw it indeed; but too high to dare try to pluck it.'

Only I, if you don't greatly mind, will be the bold tree-climber and
pluck the apple."

"But I do mind," cried Artemisia, all blushes, and springing a little
back. Old Sesostris looked alarmed.

"You--you mean the girl no ill?" he faltered.

Agias looked from the innocent little thing over to the Ethiop,
snapped his finger, and replied:--

"Ill? I am not a human wolf, making pretty objects like this my prey!"
Then, choosing his moment carefully, by a quick turn he confronted
Sesostris sternly, and almost thundered: "_You_ speak of my doing ill
to this maiden? You speak--the slave of Pratinas, who is the leader in
every vice and wild prank in Rome! Has the slave as well as the master
learned to play the hypocrite? Do you want to be tortured into
confessing your part in all your master's crimes when the hour of
reckoning comes and he is brought to justice. _A! A!_" he went on,
seeing that Sesostris was rolling the whites of his eyes, and was