looked at him without recognizing him.

There was a great stir in this, the handsomest road through the city.
The people were waiting for Caesar; but stricter order was observed than
on the occasion of his arrival. The guard prohibited all traffic on the
southern side of the way, and only allowed the citizens to walk up and
down the footpath, shaded by trees, between the two roadways paved with
granite flags, and the arcades in front of the houses on either side.
The free inhabitants, unaccustomed to such restrictions, revenged
themselves by cutting witticisms at Caesar's expense, "for clearing the
streets of Alexandria by his men-at-arms as he did those of Rome by the
executioner. He seemed to have forgotten, as he kept the two roads open,
that he only needed one, now that he had murdered his brother and
partner."

Melissa and her companion were ordered to join the crowd on the footway;
but Argutis managed to convince a man on guard that they were two of the
mimes who were to perform before Caesar--the door-keeper at the house of
Seleukus would confirm the fact--and the official himself made way for
them into the vestibule of this splendid dwelling.

But Melissa was as little in the humor to admire all the lavish
magnificence which surrounded her as Alexander had been a few days since.
Still veiled, she modestly took a place among the choir who stood on each
side of the hall ready to welcome Caesar with singing and music. Argutis
stopped to speak with his friend. She dimly felt that the whispering and
giggling all about her was at her expense; and when an elderly, man, the
choir-master, asked her what she wanted, and desired her to remove her
veil, she obeyed at once, saying: "Pray let me stand here, the Lady
Berenike will send for me."