The courier withdrew. When his footsteps died away the old merchant
reached under the divan and drew forth the shittim-wood box. Producing
a key he unlocked and opened it. From his bosom he drew forth the
letter from Philadelphus and laid it within.

"Let her take it with her," he said, speaking aloud. "Here," lifting a
cylinder of old silver exquisitely chased, "are her marriage papers;
this," lifting delicately embroidered squares of linen, "her marriage
tokens, and here, her dowry."

He opened the inner box and laid the sheepskin wallet in upon the
gems. He closed the lid, and, locking the case, lifted it and set it
beside him on the divan.

When he looked up, he saw a man standing within a few paces of him and
perfunctorily gazing at anything but the display of Laodice's fortune.

He was lean, muscular, somewhat younger than forty but already gray at
the temples, of nervous temperament, direct of gaze and of attractive
presence. He wore a tunic of gray wool bordered with red, and a gray
mantle hung negligently from his shoulders. Limbs and arms were bare
and his head-covering of red wool hung from his arm.

Costobarus, a little discomfited that he had been surprised with
Laodice's dowry exposed, spoke briskly.

"Well, Aquila? Prepared?"

"Everything is in order. I am ready to proceed at once."