"Then we will call it eleven myriad," Caracalla broke in. "Now, we have
had enough of the dead. Bring in the living."

"Whom?" asked the Egyptian, in surprise. Hereupon Caesar's eyelids began
to quiver, and in a threatening tone he reminded his bloody-handed tool
of those whom he had ordered him to take alive. Still Zminis was silent,
and Caesar furiously shrieked his demand as to whether by his blundering
Heron's daughter had escaped; whether he could not produce the gem-cutter
and his son. The blood-stained butcher then perceived that Caesar's
murderous sword might be turned against him also. Still, he was prepared
to defend himself by every means in his power. His brain was inventive,
and, seeing that the fault for which he would least easily be forgiven
was the failure to capture Melissa, he tried to screen himself by a lie.
Relying on an incident which he himself had witnessed, he began: "I felt
certain of securing the gem-cutter's pretty daughter, for my men had
surrounded his house. But it had come to the ears of these Alexandrian
scoundrels that a son of Heron's, a painter, and his sister, had betrayed
their fellow-citizens and excited your wrath. It was to them that they
ascribed the punishment which I executed upon them in your name. This
rabble have no notion of reflection; before we could hinder them they had
rushed on the innocent dwelling. They flung fire-brands into it, burned
it, and tore it down. Any one who was within perished, and thus the
daughter of Heron died. That is, unfortunately, proved. I can take the
old man and his son tomorrow. To-day I have had so much to do that there
has not been time to bind the sheaves. It is said that they had escaped
before the mob rushed on the house."

"And the gem-cutter's daughter?" asked Caracalla, in a trembling voice.
"You are sure she was burned in the building?"