great Galen but of another Roman practiced in the healing art, but of
less illustrious proficiency. He must, therefore, still have Diodoros
conveyed to the Serapeum, and this could be done very easily in the
morning, before the populace should again besiege the temple. He must
forthwith go back to make the necessary arrangements. Praxilla whispered
tenderly:

"Devoted man that you are, you do not even get your night's rest." But
Andreas turned away to discuss some further matters with Polybius; and,
in spite of pain, the old man could express his views clearly and
intelligently.

At last he took his leave; and now Praxilla had to direct the slaves who
were to carry her brother to bed. She carefully arranged the cushions on
his couch, and gave him his medicine and night-draught. Then she
returned to Melissa, and the sight of the sleeping girl touched her
heart. She stood gazing at her for some time in silence, and then bent
over her to wake her with a kiss. She had at last made up her mind to
regard the gem-cutter's daughter as her niece, so, determined to treat
her as a child of her own, she called Melissa by name.

This awoke the sleeper, and when she had realized that she was still in
Polybius's eating-room, she asked for Andreas.

"He has gone back to the town, my child," replied Praxilla. "He was
anxious about your betrothed."

"Is he worse, then?" asked Melissa, in alarm. "No, no," said the widow,
soothingly. "It is only--I assure you we have heard nothing new--"