great, but destiny is superior even to him.  Zeus can accomplish much,
but when Iras and your sister Charmian, who unfortunately is now with the
Queen, wish to effect anything, he, like the Regent Mardion, must give
way.  The more lovable Cleopatra is, the more surely every one prizes a
position near her person above aught else, especially such trifles as law
and justice."

"These are harsh words," responded Archibius, and seem the more bitter in
proportion to the germ of truth which they contain.  Our court shares the
fate of every other in the East, and those to whom Rome formerly set the
example of holding law and justice sacred--"

"Can now go there," interrupted Dion, "to learn how rudely both are
trampled under foot.  The sovereigns here and there may smile at one
another like the augurs.  They are like brothers--"

"But with the difference," Archibius broke in, "that the head of our
public affairs is the very embodiment of affability and grace; while in
Rome, on the contrary, harsh severity and bloody arrogance, or even
repulsive servility, guide the reins."

Here Archibius interrupted himself to point to the shouting throng
advancing towards them.  "You are right," Dion answered.  "Let us defer
this discussion till we can pursue it in the house of the charming
Barine.  But I rarely meet you there, though by blood you are so nearly
allied to her father.  I am her friend--at my age that might easily mean
her lover.  But in our case the comparison would not suit.  Yet perhaps
you will believe me, for you have the right to call yourself the friend
of the most bewitching of women."

A sorrowful smile flitted over the grave, set features of the older man,
who, raising his hand as if in protest, answered carelessly: "I grew up
with Cleopatra, but a private citizen loves a queen only as a divinity.
I believe in your friendship for Barine, though I deem it dangerous."

"If you mean that it might injure the lovely woman," replied Dion,
raising his head more proudly as if to intimate that he required no
warning, even from him, "perhaps you are right.  Only I beg you not to
misunderstand me.  I am not vain enough to suppose that I could win her
heart, but unfortunately there are many who cannot forgive the power of
attraction which she exerts over me as well as upon all.  So many men
gladly visit Barine's house that there are an equal number of women who
would rejoice to close it.  Among them, of course, is Iras.  She dislikes
my friend; nay, I fear that what you witness yonder is the apple she
flung in order, if not to ruin, at least to drive her from the city, ere
the Queen--may the gods grant her victory!--ere Cleopatra returns.  You
know your niece Iras.  Like your sister Charmian, she will shrink from
nothing to remove an annoyance from her mistress's pathway, and it will
hardly please Cleopatra when she learns that the two youths whose welfare
lies nearest her heart--Antyllus and Caesarion--seek Barine's house, no
matter how stainless the latter's reputation may be."

"I have just heard of it," replied Archibius, "and I, too, am anxious.
Antony's son has inherited much of his father's insatiable love of
pleasure.  But Caesarion!  He has not yet ventured out of the dreamland
which surrounds him into actual life.  What others scarcely perceive
deals him a serious blow.  I fear Eros is sharpening arrows for him which
will pierce deep into his heart.  While talking with me he seemed
strangely changed.  His dreamy eyes glittered like a drunkard's when he
spoke of Barine.  I fear, I fear--"

"Impossible!" cried Dion, in surprise, nay, almost terror.  "If that is
the case, Iras is not wholly wrong, and we must deal with the matter
differently.  But it is of the first importance to conceal the fact that
Caesarion has any interest in the affairs of the old house-owner.  To
seek to maintain the old man's right to his own property is a matter of
course, and I will undertake to do this and try to get yonder orator home
Just see how the braggart is swinging his arms in Iras's service!  As for
Barine, it will be well to induce her to leave of her own free will a
city where it will be made unpleasant for her.  Try to persuade her to
pursue this course.  If I went to her with such a suggestion, I, who
yesterday--No, no!  Besides, she might hear that Iras and I--She would
imagine all sorts of absurdities.  You know what jealousy means.  To you,
whom she esteems, she would surely listen, and she need not go far from
the city.  If the heart of this enthusiastic boy--who might some day
desire to be 'King of kings' not only in name--should really be fired
with love for Barine, what serious misfortune might follow!  We must
secure her from him.  She could not go to my country house among the
papyrus plantations at Sebennys.  It would afford too much license for
evil tongues.  But you--your villa at Kanopus is too near--but, if I am
not mistaken, you have--"

"My estate in the lake region is remote enough, and will be at her
disposal," interrupted the other.  "The house is always kept ready for
my reception.  I will do my best to persuade her, for your advice is
prudent.  She must be withdrawn from the boy's eyes."

"I shall learn the result of your mission tomorrow," cried Dion eagerly--
"nay, this evening.  If she consents, I will tell Iras, as if by
accident, that Barine has gone to Upper Egypt to drink new milk, or
something of that kind.  Iras is a shrewd woman, and will be glad if she
can keep aloof from such trifles during the time which will decide the
fate of Cleopatra and of the world."

"My thoughts, too, are always with the army," said Archibius.  "How
trivial everything else seems compared with the result which will be
determined in the next few days!  But life is made up of trifles.  They
are food, drink, maintenance.  Should the Queen return triumphant, and
find Caesarion in wrong paths--"

"We must close them against him," exclaimed Dion.

"That the boy may not follow Barine?" asked Archibius, shaking his head.
"I think we need feel no anxiety on that score.  He will doubtless
eagerly desire to do so, but with him there is a wide gulf between the
wish and its fulfilment.  Antyllus is differently constituted.  He would
be quite capable of ordering a horse to be saddled, or the sails of a
boat to be spread in order to pursue her--beyond the Cataract if
necessary.  So we must maintain the utmost secrecy concerning the place
to which Barine voluntarily exiles herself."

"But she is not yet on her way," replied Dion with a faint sigh.  "She is
bound to this city by many ties."

"I know it," answered Archibius, confirming his companion's fear.  The
latter, pointing to the equipage, said in a rapid, earnest tone: "Gorgias
is beckoning.  But, before we part, let me beseech you to do everything
to persuade Barine to leave here.  She is in serious danger.  Conceal
nothing from her, and say that her friends will not leave her too long in
solitude."

Archibius, with a significant glance, shook his finger at the young man
in playful menace, and then went up to the carriage.

Caesarion's clear-cut but pallid face, whose every feature resembled that
of his father, the great Caesar, bent towards them from the opening above
the door, as he greeted both with a formal bend of the head and a
patronizing glance.  His eyes had sparkled with boyish glee when he first
caught sight of the friend from whom he had been separated several weeks,
but to the stranger he wished to assume the bearing which beseemed a
king.  He desired to make him feel his superior position, for he was ill-
disposed towards him.  He had seen him favoured by the woman whom he
imagined he loved, and whose possession he had been promised by the
secret science of the Egyptians, whose power to unveil the mysteries of
the future he firmly believed.  Antyllus, Antony's son, had taken him to
Barine, and she had received him with the consideration due his rank.
Spite of her bright graciousness, boyish timidity had hitherto prevented
any word of love to the young beauty whom he saw surrounded by so many
distinguished men of mature years.  Yet his beaming, expressive eyes must
have revealed his feelings to her.  Doubtless his glances had not been
unobserved, for only a few hours before an Egyptian woman had stopped him
at the temple of his father, Caesar, to which, according to the fixed
rules governing the routine of his life, he went daily at a certain hour
to pray, to offer sacrifices, to anoint the stone of the altar, or to
crown the statue of the departed emperor.

Caesarion had instantly recognized her as the female slave whom he had
seen in Barine's atrium, and ordered his train to fall back.

Fortunately his tutor, Rhodon, had not fulfilled his duty of accompanying
him.  So the youth had ventured to follow the slave woman, and in the
shadow of the mimosas, in the little grove beside the temple, he found
Barine's litter.  His heart throbbed violently as, full of anxious
expectation, he obeyed her signal to draw nearer.  Still, she had granted
him nothing save the favour of gratifying one of her wishes.  But his
heart had swelled almost to bursting when, resting her beautiful white
arm on the door of her litter, she had told him that unjust men were
striving to rob her grandfather Didymus of his garden, and she expected
him, who bore the title of the "King of kings" to do his best to prevent
such a crime.

It had been difficult for him to grasp her meaning while she was
speaking.  There was a roaring sound in his ears as if, instead of being
in the silent temple grove, he was standing on a stormy day upon the
surf-beaten promontory of Lochias.  He had not ventured to raise his eyes
and look into her face.  Not until she closed with the question whether
she might hope for his assistance did her gaze constrain him to glance
up.  Ah, what had he not fancied he read in her imploring blue eyes!
how unspeakably beautiful she had appeared!

He had stood before her as if bereft of his senses.  His sole knowledge
was that he had promised, with his hand on his heart, to do everything in
his power to prevent what threatened to cause her pain.  Then her little
hand, with its sparkling rings, was again stretched towards him, and he
had resolved to kiss it; but while he glanced around at his train, she
had already waved him a farewell, and the litter was borne away.

He stood motionless, like the figure of a man on one of his mother's
ancient vases, staring in bewilderment after the flying figure of
Happiness, whom he might easily have caught by her floating locks.  How
he raged over the miserable indecision which had defrauded him of so much
joy!  Yet nothing was really lost.  If he succeeded in fulfilling her
wishes, she could not fail to be grateful; and then--

He pondered over the person to whom he should apply--Mardion, the Regent,
or the Keeper of the Seal?  No, they had planned the erection of the
group of sculpture in the philosopher's garden.  To Iras, his mother's
confidante?  Nay, last of all to her.  The cunning woman would have
perceived his purpose and betrayed it to the Regent.  Ah, if Charmian,
his mother's other attendant, had been present!  but she was with the
fleet, which perhaps was even now engaged in battle with the enemy.

At this recollection his eyes again sought the ground--he had not been
permitted to take the place in the army to which his birth entitled him,
while his mother and Charmian--But he did not pursue this painful current
of thought; for a serious reproach had forced itself upon him and sent
the blood to his cheeks.  He wished to be considered a man, and yet, in
these fateful days, which would determine the destiny of his mother, his
native city, Egypt, and that Rome which he, the only son of Caesar, was
taught to consider his heritage, he was visiting a beautiful woman,
thinking of her, and of her alone.  His days and half the nights were
passed in forming plans for securing her love, forgetful of what should
have occupied his whole heart.

Only yesterday Iras had sharply admonished him that, in times like these,
it was the duty of every friend of Cleopatra, and every foe of her foes,
to be with the army at least in mind.

He had remembered this, but, instead of heeding the warning, the thought
of her had merely recalled her uncle, Archibius, who possessed great
influence, not merely on account of his wealth but because every one also
knew his high standing in the regard of the Queen.  Besides, the clever,
kindly man had always been friendly to him from childhood, and like a
revelation came the idea of applying to him, and to the architect
Gorgias, who had a voice in the matter, and by whom he had been strongly
attracted during the period while he was rebuilding the wing assigned to
the prince in the palace at Lochias.

So one of the attendants was instantly despatched with the little tablet
which invited Gorgias to the interview at the Temple of Isis.

Then, in the afternoon, Caesarion went secretly in a boat to the little
palace of Archibius, situated on the seashore at Kanopus, and now as the
latter, with his friend, stood beside the carriage door, he explained to
them that he was going with the architect to old Didymus to assure him of
his assistance.

This was unadvisable in every respect, but it required all the weight of
the older man's reasons to induce the prince to yield.  The consequences
which might ensue, should the populace discover that he was taking sides
against the Regent, would be incalculable.  But submission and withdrawal
were especially difficult to the young "King of kings."  He longed to
pose as a man in Dion's presence, and as this could not be, he strove
to maintain the semblance of independence by yielding his resolve
only on the plea of not desiring to injure the aged scholar and his
granddaughter.  Finally, he again entreated the architect to secure
Didymus in the possession of his property.  When at last he drove away
with Archibius, twilight was already gathering, torches were lighted in
front of the temple and the little mausoleum adjoining the cella, and
pitch-pans were blazing in the square.




CHAPTER III.

"The lad is in an evil plight," said Gorgias, shaking his head
thoughtfully as the equipage rolled over the stone pavement of the
Street of the King.

"And over yonder, added Dion," "the prospect is equally unpleasing.
Philostratus is setting the people crazy.  But the hired mischief-maker
will soon wish he had been less ready to seize Iras's gold coins."

"And to think," cried the architect, "that Barine was this scoundrel's
wife!  How could it--"

"She was but a child when they married her," interrupted Dion.  "Who
consults a girl of fifteen in the choice of a husband?  And Philostratus
--he was my classmate at Rhodus--at that time had the fairest prospects.
His brother Alexas, Antony's favourite, could easily advance him.
Barine's father was dead, her mother was accustomed to follow Didymus's
counsel, and the clever fellow had managed to strew dust in the old man's
eyes.  Long and lank as he is, he is not bad-looking even now.

"When he appeared as an orator he pleased his hearers.  This turned his
head, and a spendthrift's blood runs in his veins.  To bring his fair
young bride to a stately mansion, he undertook the bad cause of the
thievish tax-collector Pyrrhus, and cleared him."

"He bought a dozen false witnesses."

"There were sixteen.  Afterwards they became as numerous as the open
mouths you see shouting yonder.  It is time to silence them.  Go to the
old man's house and soothe him--Barine also, if she is there.  If you
find messengers from the Regent, raise objections to the unprecedented
decree.  You know the portions of the law which can be turned to
Didymus's advantage."

"Since the reign of Euergetes II, registered landed property has been
unassailable, and his was recorded."

"So much the better.  Tell the officials also, confidentially, that you
know of objections just discovered which may perhaps change the Regent's
views."

"And, above all, I shall insist upon my right to choose the place for the
twin statues.  The Queen herself directed the others to heed my opinion."

"That will cast the heaviest weight into the scale.  We shall meet later.
You will prefer to keep away from Barine to-night.  If you see her, tell
her that Archibius said he would visit her later--for an object I will
explain afterwards.  I shall probably go to Iras to bring her to reason.
It will be better not to mention Caesarion's wish."

"Certainly--and you will give nothing to yonder brawler."

"On the contrary.  I feel very generous.  If Peitho will aid me, the
insatiate fellow will get more than may be agreeable to him."

Then grasping the architect's hand, Dion forced his way through the
throng surrounding the high platform on wheels, upon which the closely
covered piece of sculpture had been rolled up.  The gate of the scholar's
house stood open, for an officer in the Regent's service had really
entered a short time before, but the Scythian guards sent by the exegetus
Demetrius, one of Barine's friends, were keeping back the throng of
curious spectators.

Their commander knew Gorgias, and he was soon standing in the impluvium
of the scholar's house, an oblong, rootless space, with a fountain in the
centre, whose spray moistened the circular bed of flowers around it.  The
old slave had just lighted some three-branched lamps which burned on tall
stands.  The officers sent by the Regent to inform Didymus that his
garden would be converted into a public square had just arrived.

When Gorgias entered, these magistrates, their clerks, and the witnesses
accompanying them--a group of twenty men, at whose head was Apollonius,
a distinguished officer of the royal treasury--were in the house.  The
slave who admitted the architect informed him of it.

In the atrium a young girl, doubtless a member of the household, stopped
him.  He was not mistaken in supposing that she was Helena, Didymus's
younger granddaughter, of whom Barine had spoken.  True, she resembled
her sister neither in face nor figure, for while the young matron's hair
was fair and waving, the young girl's thick black tresses were wound
around her head in a smooth braid.  Very unlike Barine's voice, too, were
the deep, earnest tones trembling with emotion, in which she confronted
him with the brief question, concealing a faint reproach, "Another
demand?"

After first ascertaining that he was really speaking to Helena, his
friend's sister, he hastily told her his name, adding that, on the
contrary, he had come to protect her grandfather from a serious
misfortune.

When his glance first rested upon her in the dimly lighted room, the
impression she made upon him was by no means favourable.  The pure brow,
which seemed to him too high for a woman's face, wore an indignant frown;
and though her mouth was beautiful in form, its outlines were often
marred by a passionate tremor that lent the exquisitely chiselled
features a harsh, nay, bitter expression.  But she had scarcely heard the
motive of his presence ere, pressing her hand upon her bosom with a sigh
of relief, she eagerly exclaimed:

"Oh, do what you can to avert this terrible deed!  No one knows how the
old man loves this house.  And my grandmother!  They will die if it is
taken from them."

Her large eyes rested upon him with a warm, imploring light; and the
stern, almost repellent voice thrilled with love for her relatives.  He
must lend his aid here, and how gladly he would do so!  He assured her of
this; and Helena, who had heard him mentioned as a man of ability, saw in
him a helper in need, and begged him, with touching fervour, to show her
grandfather, when he came before the officers, that all was not lost.

The astonished architect asked if Didymus did not know what was
impending, and Helena hastily replied:

"He is working in the summer-house by the sea.  Apollonius is a kind-
hearted man, and will wait until I have prepared my grandfather.  I must
go to him.  He has already sent Philotas--his pupil, who finds and
unrolls his books--a dozen times to inquire the cause of the tumult
outside; but I replied that the crowds were flocking to the harbour on
account of the Queen.  There is often a mob shouting madly; but nothing
disturbs my grandfather when he is absorbed in his work; and his pupil
--a young student from Amphissa--loves him and does what I bid him.  My
grandmother, too, knows nothing yet.  She is deaf, and the female slaves
dare not tell her.  After her recent attack of giddiness, the doctor said
that any sudden shock might injure her.  If only I can find the right
words, that my grandfather may not be too sorely hurt!"

"Shall  I  accompany you?" asked Gorgias kindly.

"No," she answered hurriedly.  "He needs time ere he will trust
strangers.  Only, if Apollonius discloses the terrible truth, and his
grief threatens to overpower him, comfort him, and show him that we still
have friends who are ready to protect us from such disaster."

She waved her hand in token of gratitude, and hurried through the little
side gate into the garden.  Gorgias looked after her with sparkling eyes,
and drew a long breath.  How good this girl must be, how wisely she cared
for her relatives!  How energetically the young creature behaved!  He had
seen his new acquaintance only in the dim light, but she must be
beautiful.  Her eyes, lips, and hair certainly were.  How his heart
throbbed as he asked himself the question whether this young girl,
who was endowed with every gift which constituted the true worth of
womanhood, was not preferable to her more attractive sister Barine!--
when the thought darted through his mind that he had cause to be grateful
to the beard which covered his chin and cheeks, for he felt that he, a
sedate, mature man, must have blushed.  And he knew why.  Only half an
hour before he had felt and admitted to Dion that he considered Barine
the most desirable of women, and now another's image cast a deep shadow
over hers and filled his heart with new, perhaps stronger emotions.

He had had similar experiences only too often, and his friends, Dion at
their head, had perceived his weakness and spoiled many an hour for him
by their biting jests.  The series of tall and short, fair and dark
beauties who had fired his fancy was indeed of considerable length, and
every one on whom he had bestowed his quickly kindled affections had
seemed to him the one woman he must make his own, if he would be a happy
man.  But ere he had reached the point of offering his hand, the question
had arisen in his mind whether he might not love another still more
ardently.  So he had begun to persuade himself that his heart yearned for
no individual, but the whole sex--at least the portion which was young
and could feel love--and therefore he would scarcely be wise to bind
himself to any one.  True, he knew that he was capable of fidelity, for
he clung to his friends with changeless loyalty, and was ready to make
any sacrifice in their behalf.  With women, however, he dealt
differently.  Was Helena's image, which now floated before him so
bewitchingly, destined to fade as swiftly?  The contrary would have been
remarkable.  Yet he firmly believed that this time Eros meant honestly by
him.  The laughing loves who twined their rose garlands around him and
Helena's predecessors had nothing to do with this grave maiden.

These reflections darted through his brain with the speed of lightning,
and still stirred his heart when he was ushered into the impluvium, where
the magistrates were impatiently awaiting the owner of the house.  With
the lucidity peculiar to him, he explained his reasons for hoping that
their errand would be vain, and Apollonius replied that no one would
rejoice more than he himself if the Regent should authorize him, on the
morrow, to countermand his mission.  He would gladly wait there longer to
afford the old man's granddaughter an opportunity to soften the tidings
of the impending misfortune.

The kind-hearted man's patience, however, was not tested too long; for
when Helena entered the summer-house Didymus had already been informed
of the disaster which threatened him and his family.  The philosopher
Euphranor, an elderly member of the Museum, had reached him through the
garden gate, and, spite of Philotas's warning sign, told him what was
occurring.  But Didymus knew the old philosopher, who, a recluse from the
world like himself, was devoting the remainder of his life and strength
to the pursuit of science.  So he only shook his head incredulously,
pushed back the thin locks of grey hair which hung down on his cheeks
over the barest part of his skull, and exclaimed reproachfully, though as
if the matter under discussion was of the most trivial importance: "What
have you been hearing?  We'll see about it!"

He had risen as he spoke, and too abruptly surprised by the news to
remember the sandals on the mat and the upper robe which lay on a chest
of drawers at the end of the room, he was in the act of quitting it, when
his friend, who had silently watched his movements, stopped him, and
Helena entered.

The grey-haired sage turned to her, and, vexed by his friend's doubts,
begged her to convince her grandfather that even matters which do not
please us may nevertheless be of some importance.  She did so as
considerately as possible, thinking meanwhile of the architect and his
hopes.

Didymus, with his eyes bent on the ground, shook his grey head again and
again.  Then, suddenly raising it, he rushed to the door, and without
heeding the upper garment which Helena still held in her hand, tore it
open, shouting, "But things must and shall be changed!"

Euphranor and his granddaughter followed.  Though his head was bowed, he
crossed the little garden with a swift, firm tread, and, without noticing
the questions and warnings of his companions, walked at once to the
impluvium.  The bright light dazzled his weakened eyes, and his habit of
gazing into vacancy or on the ground compelled him to glance from side to
side for some time, ere he could accustom himself to it.  Apollonius
approached, greeted him respectfully, and assured him that he deeply
regretted having interrupted him in the work for which the whole world
was waiting, but he had come on important business.

"I know, I know," the old scholar answered with a smile of superiority.
"What is all this ado about?"

As he spoke he looked around the group of spectators, among whom he knew
no one except Apollonius, who had charge of the museum accounts, and the
architect, for whom he had composed the inscription on the Odeum, which
he had recently built.  But when his eyes met only unfamiliar faces, the
confidence which hitherto had sustained him began to waver, though still
convinced that a demand such as the philosopher suggested could not
possibly be made upon him, he continued: "It is stated that there is a
plan for turning my garden into a public square.  And for what purpose?
To erect a piece of sculpture.  But there can be nothing serious in the
rumour, for my property is recorded in the land register, and the law--"

"Pardon me," Apollonius broke in, "if I interrupt you.  We know the
ordinance to which you refer, but this case is an exceptional one.
The Regent desires to take nothing from you.  On the contrary, he offers,
in the name of the Queen, any compensation you yourself may fix for the
piece of land which is to be honoured by the statues of the highest
personages in the country--Cleopatra and Antony, hand in hand.  The piece
of sculpture has already been brought here.  A work by the admirable
artist Lysander, who passed too early to the nether world, certainly will
not disfigure your house.  The little summer-house by the sea must be
removed to-morrow, it is true; you know that our gracious Queen may
return any day-victorious if the immortals are just.  This piece of
sculpture, which is created in her honour, to afford her pleasure, must
greet her on her arrival, so the Regent send me to-day to communicate his
wish, which, as he represents the Queen--"

"Yet," interrupted the architect, who had again warmly assured the old
man's granddaughter of his aid" yet your friends will endeavour to
persuade the Regent to find another place for the statues."

"They are at liberty to do so," said the officer.  "What will happen
later the future will show.  My office merely requires me to induce the
worthy owner of this house and garden to submit to-day to the Queen's
command, which the Regent and my own heart bid me clothe in the form of a
request."

During this conversation the old man had at first listened silently to
the magistrate's words, gazing intently into his face.  So it was true.
The demand to yield up his garden, and even the little house, for fifty
years the scene of his study and creative work, for the sake of a statue,
would be made.  Since this had become a certainty, he had stood with his
eyes fixed upon the ground.  Grief had paralyzed his tongue, and Helena,
who felt this, for the aged head seemed as if it were bending under a
heavy burden, had drawn close to his side.

The shouts and howls of the throng outside echoed through the open roof
of the impluvium, but the old man did not seem to hear them, and did not
even notice his granddaughter.  Yet, no sooner did he feel her touch than
he hurriedly shrank away, flung back his drooping head, and gazed around
the circle of intruders.

The dull, questioning eyes of the old commentator and writer of many
books now blazed with the hot fire of youthful passion and, like a
wrestler who seeks the right grip, he measured Apollonius and his
companions with wrathful glances.  The fragile recluse seemed transformed
into a warrior ready for battle.  His lips and the nostrils of his
delicate nose quivered, and when Apollonius began to say that it would be
wise to remove the contents of the summer-house that day, as it would be
torn down early the next morning, Didymus raised his arms, exclaiming:

"That will not be done.  Not a single roll shall be removed!  They will
find me at work as usual early to-morrow morning, and if it is still your
wish to rob me of my property you must use violence to attain your
purpose."

Calm yourself," replied Apollonius.  "Every one beneath the moon must
submit to a higher power; the gods bow to destiny, we mortals to the
sovereign.  You are a sage; I, merely mindful of the behests of duty,
administer my office.  But I know life, and if I may offer my counsel,
you will accept what cannot be averted, and I will wager ten to one that
you will have the best of it; that the Queen will place in your hands
means--"

"Sufficient to build a palace on the site of the little house of which I
was robbed," Didymus interrupted bitterly.  Then rage burst forth afresh
"What do I care for your money?  I want my rights, my good, guaranteed
rights.  I insist upon them, and whoever assails the ground which my
grandfather and father bequeathed to me--"

He hesitated, for the throng outside had burst into a loud shout of joy;
and when it died away, and the old man began once more defiantly to claim
his rights, he was interrupted by a woman's clear tones, addressing him
with the Greek greeting, "Rejoice!"--a voice so gay and musical that it
seemed to dispel the depression which rested like a grey fog on the whole
company.

While Didymus was listening to the excited populace, and the new-comer
was gazing at the old man whose rigid obstinacy could scarcely be
conquered by kindness, the younger men were looking at the beautiful
woman who joined them.  Her haste had flushed her cheeks, and from
beneath the turquoise-blue kerchief that covered her fair locks a
bewitching face smiled at her sister, the architect, and her grandfather.

Apollonius and many of his companions felt as if happiness in person had
entered this imperilled house, and many an eye brightened when the
infuriated old man exclaimed in an altered tone, "You here, Barine?" and
she, without heeding the presence of the others, kissed his cheek with
tender affection.

Helena, Gorgias, and the old philosopher Euphranor, had approached her,
and when the latter asked with  loving reproach, "Why, Barine, how did
you get  through the howling mob?" she answered gaily: "That a learned
member of the Museum may receive me with the query whether I am here,
though from childhood a kind or--what do you think, grandfather?--a
malign fate has preserved me from being overlooked, and some one else
reprovingly asks how I passed through the shouting mob, as if it were a
crime to wade into the water to hold out a helping hand to those we love
best when it is up to their chins!  But, oh! dear, this howling is too
hideous!"

While speaking, she pressed her little hands on the part of the kerchief
which concealed her ears, and said no more until the noise subsided,
although she declared that she was in a hurry, and had only come to learn
how matters were.  Meanwhile it seemed as if she was so full of quick,
pulsing life, that it was impossible to leave even a moment unused,
if it were merely to bestow or answer a friendly glance.

The architect and her sister were obliged to return hurried answers to
hasty questions; and as soon as she ascertained what had brought the
strangers there she thanked Apollonius, and said that old friends would
do their best to spare her grandfather such a sorrow.

In reply to repeated inquiries from the two old men in regard to her
arrival there, she answered: "Nobody will believe it, because in this
hurry I could not keep my mouth shut; but I acted like a mute fish and
reached the water."  Then, drawing her grandfather aside, she whispered
to him that, when she left her boat at the harbour, Archibius had seen
her from his carriage, and instantly stopped it to inform her of his
intended visit that evening.  He was coming to discuss an important
matter.  Therefore she must receive the worthy man, whom she sincerely
liked, so she could not stay.  Then turning to the others still with her
kerchief on her head ready for departure--she asked what the people
meant by their outcries.  The architect replied that Philostratus had
endeavoured to make the crowd believe that the only appropriate site for
the statues of which she had heard was her grandfather's garden, and he
thought he knew in whose behalf the fellow was acting.

"Certainly not in the Regent's," said Apollonius, in a tone of sincere
conviction; but Barine, over whose sunny brow a shadow had flitted when
Gorgias uttered the orator's name, assented with a slight bend of the
head, and then whispered hurriedly, yet earnestly, that she would answer
for the old man's allowing himself to be persuaded, if he had only time
to collect his thoughts.

The next morning, when the market was crowded, the officer might commence
his negotiations afresh, if the Regent insisted on his plan.  Meanwhile
she would do her best to persuade her grandfather to yield, though he was
not exactly one of the class who are easily guided.  Apollonius might
remind the Regent that it would be advisable at this time to avoid a
public scandal, to remember Didymus's age, and the validity of his claim.

While Apollonius was talking with his companions, Barine beckoned to the
architect, and hastily took leave of the others, protesting that she was
in no danger, since she would slip away again like a fish, only this time
she would use her tongue, and hoped by its means to win to the support of
Didymus's just cause a man who would already have ended all the trouble
had the Queen only been in Alexandria.

Until now the eyes and ears of the whole company had been fixed upon
Barine.  No one had desired anything better than to gaze at and listen to
her.

Not until she had quitted the room with Gorgias did the officials
discuss the matter together, and soon after Apollonius went away with
his companions, to hold another conference with the Regent about this
unpleasant business.  This time the architect had followed the young
beauty with very mingled feelings.  Only an hour before he would have
rejoiced to be permitted to accompany and protect Barine; now he would
have  gladly remained with her sister, who had returned his farewell
greeting so gratefully and yet with such maidenly modesty.  But even the
most vacillating man cannot change one fancy for another as he would
replace a black piece on the draughtboard with a white one, and he still
found it delightful to be so near Barine.  Only the thought that Helena
might believe that he stood on very intimate terms with her sister had
darted with a disquieting influence through his brain when the latter
invited him to accompany her.

In the garden Barine begged him, before they went to the landing-place
where the boat was moored, to help her ascend the narrow flight of steps
leading to the flat roof of the gatekeeper's little house.

Here they could watch unseen the tumult in the square below, for it was
surrounded by dense laurel bushes.  Bright flames were blazing in the
pitch-pans before the two temples at the side of the Corner of the Muses,
and their light was increased by the torches held in the hands of
Scythians.  Yet no individuals could be distinguished in the throng.  The
marble walls of the temples shimmered, the statues at Didymus's gate, and
the hermae along the street of the King which passed the threatened house
and connected the north of the Corner of the Muses with the sea-shore,
loomed from the darkness in the brilliancy of the reflected light, but
the smoke of the torches darkened the sky and dimmed the starlight.

The only persons distinctly visible were Dion, who had stationed himself
on the lofty framework of the platform on which the muffled statues had
been drawn hither, and the attorney Philostratus, who stood on the
pedestal of one of the dolphins which surrounded the fountain between the
Temple of Isis and the street.  The space, a dozen paces wide, which
divided them, permitted the antagonists to understand each other, and the
attention of the whole throng was fixed upon the wranglers.

These verbal battles were one of the greatest pleasures of the
Alexandrians, and they greeted every clever turn of speech with shouts
of applause, every word which displeased them with groans, hisses, and
cat-calls.

Barine could see and hear what was passing below.  She had pushed aside
the foliage of the laurel bushes which concealed her, and, with her hand
raised to her ear, stood listening to the two disputants.  When the
scoundrel whom she had called husband, and for whom her contempt had
become too deep for hate, sneeringly assailed her family as having been
fed from generation to generation from the corn-bin of the Museum, she
bit her lips.  But they soon curled, as if what she heard aroused her
disgust, for the speaker now turned to Dion and accused him of preventing
the kindly disposed Regent from increasing the renown of the great Queen
and affording her noble heart a pleasure.

"My tongue," he cried, "is the tool which supports me.  Why am I using it
here till it is weary and almost paralyzed?  In honour of Cleopatra, our
illustrious Queen, and her generous friend, to whom we all owe a debt of
gratitude.  Let all who love her and the divine Antony, the new Herakles
and Dionysus--both will soon make their entry among us crowned with the
laurels of victory--join the Regent and every well-disposed person in
seizing yonder bit of land so meanly withheld by base avarice and a
sentiment--a sentiment, do you hear?--which I do not name more plainly,
simply because wickedness is repulsive to me, and I do not stand here as
an accuser.  Whoever upholds the word-monger who spouts forth books as
the dolphin at my side does water, may do so.  I shall not envy him.  But
first look at Didymus's ally and panegyrist.  There he stands opposite to
me.  It would have been better for him had the dolphin at his feet taught
him silence.  Then he might have remained in the obscurity which befits
him.

"But whether willing or not, I must drag him forth, and I will show you
Dion, fellow-citizens, though I would far rather have you see things
which arouse less ire.  The dim light prevents your distinguishing the
colour of his robe, but I know it, for I saw it in the glare of day.  It
is hyacinthine purple.  You know what that costs.  It would support the