his hand.

What had come over the poor, suffering youth whom he, Timon, had escorted
to the Circus out of sheer compassion? His eyes sparkled, and he held
his head as high as ever. What was the meaning of his declaring that
everything would go well with him now? But it was in vain that he
questioned the youth, for Diodoros could not reveal, even to his best
friend, what it was that made him happy. It was enough for him to know
that Melissa loved him, and that the woman to whom he looked up with
enthusiastic reverence esteemed her as highly as ever. And now, for the
first time, he began to feel ashamed of his doubts of Melissa. How could
he, who had known her from childhood, have believed of her anything so
base and foul? It must be some strong compulsion which bound her to
Caesar, and she could never have looked at him thus unless she had some
scheme--in which, perhaps, the lady Euryale meant to abet her--for
escaping her imperial suitor before it was too late. Yes, it must be so;
and the oftener he gazed at her the more convinced he felt.

Now he rejoiced in the blaze of light about him, for it showed him his
beloved. The words which Euryale had whispered in her ear must have been
an admonition to prudence, for she only rarely bestowed on him a loving
glance, and he acknowledged that the mute but eager exchange of signals
would have been fraught with danger for both of them.

The first sudden illumination had revealed too many things to distract
the attention of the spectators, including Caesar's, for their
proceedings to be observed. Now curiosity was to some extent satisfied,
and even Diodoros felt that reserve was imperative.

Caracalla had not yet shown himself to the people. A golden screen, in