failed to observe it, and listened with alert attention; for on such a
day and in these apartments every dialogue, every noise in the king's
antechamber might be of grave purport.

Euergetes did not deceive himself in this matter any more than his
sister, and he went towards the door holding the sacrificial sickle,
which formed part of his regalia, in his right hand. But he had not
crossed the room when Eulaeus rushed in, as pale as death, and calling
out to his sovereign:

"The murderers have betrayed us; Publius Scipio is alive, and insists on
being admitted to speak with you."

The king's armed hand fell by his side, and for a moment he gazed blankly
into vacancy, but the next instant he had recovered himself, and roared
in a voice which filled the room like rolling thunder:

"Who dares to hinder the entrance of my friend Publius Cornelius Scipio?
And are you still here, Eulaeus--you scoundrel and you villain! The
first case that I, as King of Upper and Lower Egypt, shall open for trial
will be that which this man--who is your foe and my friend--proposes to
bring against you. Welcome! most welcome on my birthday, my noble
friend!"

The last words were addressed to Publius, who now entered the room with
stately dignity, and clad in the ample folds of the white toga worn by
Romans of high birth. He held a sealed roll or despatch in his right
hand, and, while he bowed respectfully to Cleopatra, he seemed entirely
to overlook the hands King Euergetes held out in welcome. After his
first greeting had been disdained by the Roman, Euergetes would not have