reflect; she remembered neither the children whom she had so long cared
for as a mother, nor her father, whose comfort and support she was--vague
voices in her brain seemed to be whispering to her that the world was
evil and cruel, and the abode of all the torment and care that gnawed at
her heart. She felt as if she bad been plunged to the temples in a pool
of fire, and, like some poor wretch whose garments have been caught by
the flames, she had an instinct to fly to the water, at the bottom of
which she might hope to find the fulfilment of her utmost longing, sweet
cold death, in which all is forgotten.

Groaning and tottering she pushed her way through the door into the
garden and hobbled down to the sea, grasping her temples in her hands.




CHAPTER II.

The Alexandrians were a stiff-necked generation. Only some phenomenal
sight far transcending their every-day experience could avail to make
them turn their heads to stare at it, but just now there was something to
look at, at every moment and in every street of the city. To-day too
each one thought only of himself and of his own pleasure. Some
particularly pretty, tall, or well-dressed figure would give rise to a
smile or an exclamation of approval, but before one sight had been
thoroughly enjoyed the inquisitive eye was seeking a fresh one.

Thus it happened that no one paid any special attention to Hadrian and
his companions who allowed themselves to be unresistingly carried along
the streets by the current of the crowd; and yet each one of them was, in