rouse the indignation, perhaps the fury, of Cleopatra, a feeling of
sorrow overpowered her. She feared nothing for herself. Not for a
single instant did she think of the unpleasant consequences which
Barine's escape might draw upon her. The burden on her soul was due only
to the consciousness of having, for the first time, opposed the will of
the sovereign, to fulfil whose desires and to promote whose aims had been
the beloved duty of her life. Doubtless the thought crossed her mind
that, by aiding Barine's escape, she was guarding Cleopatra from future
repentance; probably she felt sure that it was her duty to help rescue
this beautiful young life, whose bloom had been so cruelly assailed by
tempest and hoar-frost, and which now had a prospect of the purest
happiness; yet, though in itself commendable, the deed brought her into
sharp conflict with the loftiest aims and aspirations of her life. And
how much nearer than the other was the woman--she shrank from the word--
whom she was about to betray, how much greater was Cleopatra's claim
to her love and gratitude! Could she have any other emotion than
thankfulness if the plan of escape succeeded? Yet she was reluctant to
perform the task of making Barine's beautiful, symmetrical figure
resemble the hunch-backed Nubian's, or to dip her fingers into the pomade
intended for Cleopatra; and it grieved her to mar the beauty of Barine's
luxuriant tresses by cutting off part of her thick fair braids.

True, these things could not be avoided, if the flight was to succeed,
and the further Anukis advanced in her story, the fewer became her
mistress's objections to the plan.

The conversation between Iras and Alexas, which had been overheard by the
maid, already made it appear necessary to withdraw Barine and her lover
from the power of such foes. The faithful man whom Anukis had found with
Dion, whose name she did not mention and of whose home she said only that