forthwith. Whither?--that is your concern; only, for the next few days
they must be out of reach."

"Good!" said the Egyptian, and an odious smile overspread his thin brown
face. "They may go as galley-slaves and row themselves to the Sardinian
mines. A good idea!"

"I have even better ideas than that to serve a friend," replied Serapion.
"Only get the philosopher out of the way. If Caesar lends an ear to his
ready tongue, I shall never see you guardian of the peace. The painter
is less dangerous."

"He shall share their fate," cried the spy, and he licked his thick lips
as if tasting some dainty morsel. He waved an adieu to the Magian, and
hastened back to the great hall. There he strictly instructed one of his
subordinates to take care that the gem-cutter and his son Philip found
places on board a galley bound for Sardinia.

At the great door he again met Serapion, with the Syrian at his heels,
and the Magian said:

"My friend here has just seen a clay figure, molded by some practiced
hand. It represents Caesar as a defiant warrior, but in the shape of a
deformed dwarf. It is hideously like him; you can see it at the Elephant
tavern."

The Egyptian pressed his hand, with an eager "That will serve," and
hastily went out.

Two hours slipped by, and Zminis was still waiting in Caesar's anteroom.