so long as Caesar was in Alexandria. He (Argutis) would go instead of
Philip, who, for his part, might call on the prefect later. He would
cross the lake and warn Melissa not to return home, and to tell Alexander
what he might think necessary. The watch might possibly follow Argutis;
but he knew every lane and alley, and could mislead and avoid them.
Philip had listened to reason. The slave went, and must now soon be back
again.

Of how different a home-coming had Melissa dreamed! What new and
terrible griefs were these! Still, though distressed at the thought of
her vehement father in prison, she shed no tears, but told herself that
matters could only be mended by rational action on behalf of the victims,
and not by lamentations. She must be alone, to collect her strength and
consider the situation. So she desired Dido, to her great amazement, to
prepare some food, and bring her wine and water. Then, seating herself,
with a melancholy glance at her embroidery where it lay folded together,
she rested her elbow on the table and her head in her hand, considering
to whom she could appeal to save her father.

First she thought of Caesar himself, whose eye had met hers, and for whom
she had prayed and offered sacrifice. But the blood fired her cheeks at
the thought, and she repelled it at once. Yet her mind would linger at
the Serapeum, where her lover, too, still rested his fevered head. She
knew that the high-priests' spacious lodgings there, with their splendid
rooms and banqueting halls, had been prepared for the emperor; and she
remembered various things which her brother had told her of Timotheus,
who was at the head not only of the heathen priesthood, but also of the
museum. He was said to be a philosopher, and Philip had more than once
been distinguished by him, and invited to his house. Her brother must
apply to him. He, who was in a way Caracalla's host, would easily