able to bear, for that the fury of the bloodthirsty tyrant hung like
a black cloud over Alexandria and its inhabitants. She herself, merely
by coming to Melissa, exposed herself to great danger, and she could not
see her again till the morrow. To Melissa's inquiry as to whether it
was her refusal to be his which had brought such a fearful fate on the
innocent youth of Alexandria, Euryale could reply in the negative; for
she had heard from her husband that it was a foul epigram written by a
pupil of the Museum which had led to Caesar's outbreak of rage.

With a few soothing words she pointed to a basket of food which she
had brought with her, showed the girl once more the secret door, and
embraced her at parting as fondly as though Heaven had restored to her
in Melissa the daughter she had lost.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

Melissa was once more alone.

She now knew that Philip walked no longer among the living. He must
have fallen a victim to the fury of the monster, but the thought that he
might have been slain for her sake left her mind no peace.

She felt that with the death of this youth--so gifted, and so dear to
her--a corner-stone had been torn from the paternal house.

In the loving circle that surrounded her, death had made another gap
which yawned before her, dismal and void.

One storm more, and what was left standing would fall with the rest.

Her tears flowed fast, and the torturing thought that the emperor had
slain her brother as a punishment for his sister's flight pierced her to
the heart.

Now she belonged indeed to the afflicted and oppressed; and as
yesterday, in the trouble of her soul, she had called upon Jesus Christ,
though she scarcely knew of Him then, so now she lifted up her heart to
Him who had become her friend, praying to Him to remember His promise of
comfort when she came to Him weary and heavy-laden.

And while she tried to realize the nature of the Saviour who had laid
down His life for others, she remembered all she had dared for her
father and brothers, and what fate had been her's during the time since;
and she felt she might acknowledge to herself that even if Philip had
met his death because of Caracalla's anger toward her, at any rate she
would never have approached Caesar had she not wanted to save her father
and brothers. She had never glossed over any wrong-doing of her own; but
her open and truthful nature was just as little inclined to the torment
of self-reproach whe