CHAPTER IX.

  While this conversation was taking place, Melissa and her companion hadreached the shore of the lake, the large inland sea which washed thesouthern side of the city and afforded anchorage for the Nile-boats. Theferry-boat which would convey them to the gardens of Polybius startedfrom the Agathodaemon Canal, an enlarged branch of the Nile, whichconnected the lake with the royal harbor and the Mediterranean; theyhad, therefore, to walk some distance along the shore.

  The setting sun shot slanting rays on the glittering surface of theglassy waters in which the numberless masts of the Nile-boats weremirrored.

  Vessels large and small, with white or gayly-painted lateen sailsgleaming in the evening glow, large galleys, light skiffs, and restless,skimming pleasure-boats, were flitting to and fro; and among them, likeloaded wagons among chariots and horsemen, the low corn-barges scarcelyseemed to move, piled as they were with pyramids of straw and grain ashigh as a house.

  The bustle on the quay was less conspicuous than usual, for all whowere free to follow their curiosity had gone into the city. There were,however, many slaves, and Caesar's visit no more affected their day'stoil than it did the course of the sun. To-day, as every other day, theyhad to pack and unload; and though few ships were sailing, numbers werearriving from the south, and throwing out the landing-bridges whichconnected them with the shore.

  The number of pleasure-boats, on the other hand, was greater than usual;for business was suspended, and many who hated the crowd found pleasurein rowing in their own boats. Others had come to see the imperial barge,which had been newly furnished up, and which was splendid enough toattract even the luxurious Alexandrians. Gold and ivory, purple sails,bronze and marble statues at the prow and stern, and in the littleshrines on the after-deck, combined in a gorgeous display, made all themore brilliant by the low sun, which added vividness to every hue.

  It was pleasant to linger on the strand at this hour. Spreadingsycamores and plumed palms cast a pleasant shade; the heat of the dayhad abated, and a light air, which always blew in from the lake, fannedMelissa's brow. There was no crushing mob, and no dust came up from thewell-watered roadway, and yet the girl had lost her cheerful looks,in spite of the success of her bold venture; and Andreas walked by herside, silent and ill-pleased.

  She could not understand him; for, as long as she could remember, hisgrave looks had always brightened at anything that had brought gladnessto her or to her mother. Besides, her success with the Roman would beto the advantage of Diodoros, and the freedman was devoted to him.Every now and then she perceived that his eye rested on her with acompassionate expression, and when she inquired whether he were anxiousabout the sufferer, he gave her some evasive answer, quite unlike hisusual decisive speech. This added to her alarm. At last his dissatisfiedand unsatisfactory replies vexed the usually patient girl, and she toldhim so; for she could not suspect how painfully her triumph in her hastydeed jarred on her truth-loving friend. He knew that it was not tothe great Galenus, but to the wealthy Serenus Samonicus, that she hadspoken; for the physician's noble and thoughtful features were familiarto him from medals, statues, and busts. He had seen Samonicus, too, atAntioch, and held his medical lore, as expressed in verse, very cheap.How worthless would this man's help be! In spite of his promise,Diodoros would after all have to be conveyed to the Serapeum; and yetAndreas could not bear to crush his darling's hopes.

  He had hitherto known her as a patient, dutiful child; to-day he hadseen with what unhesitating determination she could carry out a purpose;and he feared that, if he told her the truth, she would at once make herway into Caesar's quarters, in defiance of every obstacle, to crave theassistance of the true Galen. He must leave her in error, and yethe could not bear to do so, for there was no art in which he was soinexpert as that of deceit. How hard it was to find the right answer,when she asked him whether he did not hope everything from the greatphysician's intervention, or when she inquired what were the works towhich Galen owed his chief fame!

  As they came near to the landing-stage whence the ferry started, shewanted to know how old he should suppose the Roman leech to be; andagain he avoided answering, for Galen was above eighty, and Serenusscarcely seventy.

  She looked up at him with large, mournful eyes, saying, "Have I offendedyou, or is there something you are concealing from me?"

  "What could you do to offend me?" he replied; "life is full of sorrows,my child. You must learn to have patience."

  "Patience!" echoed Melissa, sadly. "That is the only knowledge I haveever mastered. When my father is more sullen than you are, for a week ata time, I scarcely heed it. But when you look like that, Andreas, it isnot without cause, and that is why I am anxious."

  "One we love is very sick, child," he said, soothingly; but she was notto be put off so, and exclaimed with conviction:

  "No, no, it is not that. We have learned nothing fresh aboutDiodoro--and you were ready enough to answer me when we came away fromthe Christian's house. Nothing but good has happened to us since, andyet you look as if the locusts had come down on your garden."

  They had reached a spot on the shore where a ship was being unloadedof its cargo of granite blocks from Syene. Black and brown slaves weredragging them to land. An old blind man was piping a dismal tune ona small reed flute to encourage them in their work, while two men offairer hue, whose burden had been too heavy for them, had let the endof the column they were carrying sink on the ground, and were beingmercilessly flogged by the overseer to make them once more attempt theimpossible.

  Andreas had watched the scene; a surge of fury had brought the blood tohis face, and, stirred by great and genuine emotion, he broke out:

  "There--there you see the locusts which destroy my garden--thehail which ruins my crops! It falls on all that bears the name ofhumanity--on me and you. Happy, girl? None of us can ever be happy tillthe Kingdom shall arise for which the fullness of the time is come."

  "But they dropped the column; I saw them myself," urged Melissa.

  "Did you, indeed?" said Andreas. "Well, well, the whip, no doubt, canrevive exhausted powers. And that is how you look upon such deeds!--you,who would not crush a worm in the garden, think this is right and just!"

  It suddenly struck Melissa that Andreas, too, had once been a slave,and the feeling that she had hurt him grieved her to the heart. She hadoften heard him speak sternly and gravely, but never in scorn as he didnow, and that, too, distressed her; and as she could not think of theright thing to say in atonement for the wrong she had done, she couldonly look up with tearful entreaty and murmur, "Forgive me!"

  "I have nothing to forgive," he replied in an altered tone. "You havegrown up among the unjust who are now in power. How should you see moreclearly than they, who all walk in darkness? But if the light shouldbe shown to you by one to whom it hath been revealed, it would not beextinguished again.--Does it not seem a beautiful thing to you to liveamong none but brethren and sisters, instead of among oppressors andtheir scourged victims; or is there no place in a woman's soul for theholy wrath that came upon Moses the Hebrew? But who would ever havespoken his great name to you?"

  Melissa was about to interrupt his vehement speech, for, in a town wherethere were so many Jews, alike among the citizens and the slaves, evenshe had heard that Moses had been their lawgiver; but he prevented her,by adding hastily: "This only, child, I would have you remember--forhere is the ferry--the worst ills that man ever inflicts on hisfellow-man are the outcome of self-interest; and, of all the good he maydo, the best is the result of his achieving self-forgetfulness to securethe happiness and welfare of others."

  He said no more, for the ferry-boat was about to put off, and they hadto take their places as quickly as possible.

  The large flat barge was almost unoccupied; for the multitude stilllingered in the town, and more than one seat was empty for the wearygirl to rest on. Andreas paced to and fro, for he was restless; butwhen Melissa beckoned to him he came close to her, and, while he leanedagainst the little c
abin, received her assurance that she now quiteunderstood his desire to see all slaves made free. He, if any one, mustknow what the feelings of those unhappy creatures were.

  "Do I not know!" he exclaimed, with a shake of the head. Then, glancinground at the few persons who were sitting at the other end of the boat,he went on sadly: "To know that, a man must himself have been brandedwith the marks of his humiliation." He showed her his arm, which wasusually hidden by the long sleeve of his tunic, and Melissa exclaimed insorrowful surprise: "But you were free-born! and none of our slaves bearsuch a brand. You must have fallen into the hands of Syrian pirates."

  He nodded, and added, "I and my father."

  "But he," the girl eagerly put in, "was a great man."

  "Till Fate overtook him," Andreas said.

  Melissa's tearful eyes showed the warm sympathy she felt, as she asked:

  "But how could it have happened that you were not ransomed by yourrelations? Your father was, no doubt, a Roman citizen; and the law--"

  "The law forbids that such a one should be sold into slavery," Andreasbroke in, "and yet the authorities of Rome left him in misery--left--"

  At this, her large, gentle eyes flashed with indignation, and, stirredto the depths of her nature, she exclaimed:

  "How was such horrible injustice possible? Oh, let me hear. You know howtruly I love you, and no one can hear you."

  The wind had risen, the waves splashed noisily against the broad boat,and the song of the slaves, as they plied their oars, would have drowneda stronger voice than the freedman's; so he sat down by her side to doher bidding.

  And the tale he had to tell was sad indeed.

  His father had been of knightly rank, and in the reign of MarcusAurelius he had been in the service of Avidius Cassius, hisfellow-countryman, the illustrious governor of Asia as 'procurator abepistolis'. As holding this high post, he found himself involved in theconspiracy of Avidius against the emperor. After the assassinationof his patron, who had already been proclaimed emperor by the troops,Andreas's father had been deprived of his offices, his citizenship, andhis honors; his possessions were confiscated, and he was exiled to theisland of Anaphe. It was to Caesar's clemency that he owed his life.

  On their voyage into exile the father and son fell into the hands ofSyrian pirates, and were sold in the slave-market of Alexandria to twoseparate masters. Andreas was bought by a tavern-keeper; the procurator,whose name as a slave was Smaragdus, by the father of Polybius; andthis worthy man soon learned to value his servant so highly, that hepurchased the son also, and restored him to his father. Thus they wereonce more united.

  Every attempt of the man who had once held so proud a position to gethis release, by an act of the senate, proved vain. It was with a brokenheart and enfeebled health that he did his duty to his master and to hisonly child. He pined in torments of melancholy, till Christianity openednew happiness to him, and revived hope brought him back from the verybrink of despair; and, even as a slave, he found the highest of alldignities--that, namely, which a Christian derives from his faith.

  At this point Melissa interrupted her friend's narrative, exclaiming, asshe pointed across the waters:

  "There! there! look! In that boat--I am sure that is Alexander! And heis making for the town."

  Andreas started up, and after convincing himself that she was indeedright, for the youth himself had recognized his sister, who waved herhand to him, he wrathfully exclaimed:

  "Madman!" and by intelligible and commanding signs he ordered thereckless young artist to turn his little skiff, and follow in the wakeof the ferry-boat, which was by this time nearing land.

  But Alexander signaled a negative, and, after gayly blowing a kiss toMelissa, plied his oars again with as much speed and energy as though hewere rowing for a wager. How swiftly and steadily the keel of his littleboat cut through the crisply foaming waves on which it rose and fell!The daring youth did not lack strength, that was certain, and the couplewho watched him with so much uneasiness soon understood that he wasstriving to overtake another and larger bark which was at some distancein front of him. It was being pulled by slaves, whose stalwart arms madethe pace a good one, and under the linen awning which shaded the middlepart of it two women were seated.

  The rays of the sun, whose fiery globe was now sinking behind thepalm-groves on the western shore, flooded the sky with ruby light,and tinged the white robes of these women, the light canopy over theirheads, and the whole face of the lake, with a rosy hue; but neitherAndreas nor his companion heeded the glorious farewell of departing day.

  Melissa pointed out to her friend the strangeness of her brother'sattire, and the hood which, in the evening light, seemed to be borderedwith gold. He had on, in fact, a Gallic mantle, such as that which hadgained Caesar the nickname of Caracalla, and there was in this disguisesomething to reassure them; for, if Alexander pulled the hood lowenough, it would hide the greater part of his face, and make itdifficult to recognize him. Whence he had procured this garment was nothard to divine, for imperial servants had distributed them in numbersamong the crowd. Caesar was anxious to bring them into fashion, and itmight safely be expected that those Alexandrians who had held out theirhands to accept them would appear in them on the morrow, as no orderrequired that they should be worn. Alexander could not do better thanwear one, if only by such means he could escape Zminis and his men.

  But who were the women he was pursuing? Before Melissa could ask thequestion, Andreas pointed to the foremost boat, and said:

  "Those are Christian women, and the bark they are in belongs to Zeno,the brother of Seleukus and of the high-priest of Serapis. That is hislanding-creek. He lives with his family, and those of the faith to whomhe affords refuge, in the long, white house you can just see there amongthe palm-trees. Those vineyards, too, are his. If I am not mistaken, oneof the ladies in that boat is his daughter, Agatha."

  "But what can Alexander want of two Christian women?" asked Melissa.

  Andreas fired up, and a vein started on his high forehead as he retortedangrily:

  "What should he not want! He and those who are like him--theblind--think nothing so precious as what satisfies the eye.--There! thebrightness has vanished which turned the lake and the shore to gold.Such is beauty!--a vain show, which only glitters to disappear, and isto fools, nevertheless, the supreme object of adoration!"

  "Then, is Zeno's daughter fair?" asked the girl.

  "She is said to be," replied the other; and after a moment's pause headded: "Yes, Agatha is a rarely accomplished woman; but I know betterthings of her than that. It stirs my gall to think that her sacredpurity can arouse unholy thoughts. I love your brother dearly; foryour mother's sake I can forgive him much; but if he tries to ensnareAgatha--"

  "Have no fear," said Melissa, interrupting his wrathful speech."Alexander is indeed a butterfly, fluttering from flower to flower,and apt to be frivolous over serious matters, but at this moment heis enslaved by a vision--that of a dead girl; and only last night, Ibelieve, he pledged himself to Ino, the pretty daughter of our neighborSkopas. Beauty is to him the highest thing in life; and how should it beotherwise, for he is an artist! For the sake of beauty he defiesevery danger. If you saw rightly, he is no doubt in pursuit of Zeno'sdaughter, but most likely not to pay court to her, but for some otherseason."

  "No praiseworthy reason, you may be sure," said Andreas. "Here we are.Now take your kerchief out of the basket. It is damp and cool aftersundown, especially over there where I am draining the bog. The landwe are reclaiming by this means will bring your future husband a fineincome some day."

  They disembarked, and ere long reached the little haven belonging toPolybius's estate. There were boats moored there, large and small, andAndreas hailed the man who kept them, and who sat eating his supper, toask him whether he had unmoored the green skiff for Alexander.

  At this the old fellow laughed, and said: "The jolly painter and hisfriend, the sculptor, met Zeno's daughter just as she was getting intoher boat with Maria
mne. Down they came, running as if they had gone mad.The girl must have turned their heads. My lord Alexander would have itthat he had seen the spirit of one who was dead, and he would gladlygive his life to see her once again."

  It was now dark, or it would have alarmed Melissa to see the ominousgravity with which Andreas listened to this tale; but she herself wassufficiently startled, for she knew her brother well, and that no risk,however great, would stop him if his artistic fancy were fired. He, whomshe had believed to be in safety, had gone straight into the hands ofthe pursuers; and with him caution and reflection were flown to thewinds when passion held sway. She had hoped that her friend Ino had atlast captured the flutterer, and that he would begin to live a settledlife with her, as master of a house of his own; and now, for apretty face, he had thrown everything to the winds, even the duty ofself-preservation. Andreas had good reason to be angry, and he spoke nomore till they reached their destination, a country house of handsomeand important aspect.

  No father could have received his future daughter more heartily than didold Polybius. The fiend gout racked his big toes, stabbing, burning, andnipping them. The slightest movement was torture, and yet he held outhis arms to her for a loving embrace, and, though it made him shut hiseyes and groan, he drew her pretty head down, and kissed her cheeks andhair. He was now a heavy man, of almost shapeless stoutness, but inhis youth he must have resembled his handsome son. Silvery locks flowedround his well-formed head, but a habit of drinking wine, which, inspite of the gout, he could not bring himself to give up, had flushedhis naturally good features, and tinged them of a coppery red, whichcontrasted strangely with his snowy hair and beard. But a kind heart,benevolence, and a love of good living, beamed in every look.

  His heavy limbs moved but slowly, and if ever full lips deserved to becalled sensual, they were those of this man, who was a priest of twodivinities.

  How well his household understood the art of catering for his loveof high living, was evident in the meal which was served soon afterMelissa's arrival, and to eat which the old man made her recline on thecouch by his side.

  Andreas also shared the supper; and not the attendant slaves only, butDame Praxilla, the sister of their host, whose house she managed, paidhim particular honor. She was a widow and childless, and, even duringthe lifetime of Diodoros's mother, she had given her heart, no longeryoung, to the freedman, without finding her love returned or evenobserved. For his sake she would have become a Christian, though sheregarded herself as so indispensable to her brother that she had rarelyleft him to hold intercourse with other Christians. Nor did Andreasencourage her; he doubted her vocation. Whatever happened in the house,the excitable woman made it her own concern; and, although she had knownMelissa from childhood, and was as fond of her as she could be ofthe child of "strangers," the news that Diodoros was to marry thegem-cutter's daughter was displeasing to her. A second woman in thehouse might interfere with her supremacy; and, as an excuse for herannoyance, she had represented to her brother that Diodoros mightlook higher for a wife. Agatha, the beautiful daughter of their richChristian neighbor Zeno, was the right bride for the boy.

  But Polybius had rated her sharply, declaring that he hoped for nosweeter daughter than Melissa, who was quite pretty enough, and in whoseveins as pure Macedonian blood flowed as in his own. His son need lookfor no wealth, he added with a laugh, since he would some day inherithis aunt's.

  In fact, Praxilla owned a fine fortune, increasing daily under the careof Andreas, and she replied:

  "If the young couple behave so well that I do not rather choose tobestow my pittance on worthier heirs."

  But the implied threat had not disturbed Polybius, for he knew hissister's ways. The shriveled, irritable old lady often spoke words hardto be forgiven, but she had not a bad heart; and when she learned thatDiodoros was in danger, she felt only how much she loved him, and herproposal to go to the town next morning to nurse him was sincerelymeant.

  But when her brother retorted: "Go, by all means; I do not prevent you!"she started up, exclaiming:

  "And you, and your aches and pains! How you get on when once my back isturned, we know by experience. My presence alone is medicine to you.""And a bitter dose it is very often," replied the old man, with a laugh;but Praxilla promptly retorted: "Like all effectual remedies. There isyour ingratitude again!"

  The last words were accompanied by a whimper, so Polybius, who could notbear to see any but cheerful faces, raised his cup and drank her healthwith kindly words. Then refilling the tankard, he poured a libation, andwas about to empty it to Melissa's health, but Praxilla's lean frame wasstanding by his side as quickly as though a serpent had stung her. Shewas drawing a stick of asparagus between her teeth, but she hastilydropped it on her plate, and with both hands snatched the cup from herbrother, exclaiming:

  "It is the fourth; and if I allow you to empty it, you are a dead man!"

  "Death is not so swift," replied Polybius, signing to a slave to bringhim back the cup. But he drank only half of it, and, at his sister'spathetic entreaties, had more water mixed with the wine. And whilePraxilla carefully prepared his crayfish--for gout had crippled even hisfingers--he beckoned to his white-haired body-slave, and with a cunningsmile made him add more wine to the washy fluid. He fixed his twinklingglance on Melissa, to invite her sympathy in his successful trick, buther appearance startled him. How pale the child was--how dejected andweary her sweet face, with the usually bright, expressive eyes!

  It needed not the intuition of his kind heart to tell him that she wascompletely exhausted, and he desired his sister to take her away to bed.But Melissa was already sound asleep, and Praxilla would not wake her.She gently placed a pillow under her head, laid her feet easily on thecouch, and covered them with a wrap. Polybius feasted his eyes on thefair sleeper; and, indeed, nothing purer and more tender can be imaginedthan the girl's face as she lay in dreamless slumber.

  The conversation was now carried on in subdued tones, so as not todisturb her, and Andreas completed the history of the day by informingthem that Melissa had, by mistake, engaged the assistance not of thegreat Galen but of another Roman practiced in the healing art, but ofless illustrious proficiency. He must, therefore, still have Diodorosconveyed to the Serapeum, and this could be done very easily in themorning, before the populace should again besiege the temple. He mustforthwith go back to make the necessary arrangements. Praxilla whisperedtenderly:

  "Devoted man that you are, you do not even get your night's rest." ButAndreas turned away to discuss some further matters with Polybius;and, in spite of pain, the old man could express his views clearly andintelligently.

  At last he took his leave; and now Praxilla had to direct the slaves whowere to carry her brother to bed. She carefully arranged the cushionson his couch, and gave him his medicine and night-draught. Then shereturned to Melissa, and the sight of the sleeping girl touched herheart. She stood gazing at her for some time in silence, and then bentover her to wake her with a kiss. She had at last made up her mind toregard the gem-cutter's daughter as her niece, so, determined to treather as a child of her own, she called Melissa by name.

  This awoke the sleeper, and when she had realized that she was still inPolybius's eating-room, she asked for Andreas.

  "He has gone back to the town, my child," replied Praxilla. "He wasanxious about your betrothed."

  "Is he worse, then?" asked Melissa, in alarm. "No, no," said the widow,soothingly. "It is only--I assure you we have heard nothing new--"

  "But what then?" Melissa inquired. "The great Galen is to see him earlyto-morrow." Praxilla tried to divert her thoughts. But as the girl wouldtake no answer to her declaration that Galen himself had promised tosee Diodoros, Praxilla, who was little used to self-command, and who wasoffended by her persistency, betrayed the fact that Melissa had spokento the wrong man, and that Andreas was gone to remove Diodoros to theSerapeum.

  At this, Melissa suddenly understood why Andreas had not rejoiced withher, and at the same time sh
e said to herself that her lover must on noaccount be exposed to so great a danger without her presence. She mustlend her aid in transporting him to the Serapeum; and when she firmlyexpressed her views to the widow, Praxilla was shocked, and sincerelyrepented of having lost her self-control. It was far too late, and whenthe housekeeper came into the room and gladly volunteered to accompanyMelissa to the town, Praxilla threatened to rouse her brother, that hemight insist on their remaining at home; but at last she relented, forthe girl, she saw, would take her own way against any opposition.

  The housekeeper had been nurse to Diodoros, and had been longing tohelp in tending him. When she left the house with Melissa, her eyes weremoist with tears of joy and thankfulness.