an official of this
temple, that the gem-cutter's daughter--you know the girl--is still
alive--"

But he got no further, for Caesar sprang to his feet, and desired to
hear more of this.

Macrinus proceeded to relate that a slaughterer in the court of
sacrifice had told him that Melissa had been seen last evening, and
was somewhere in the Serapeum. More than this the prefect knew not, and
Caesar forthwith dismissed him to make further inquiry before he himself
should take steps to prove the truth of the report.

Then he paced the room with revived energy. His eye sparkled, and,
breathing fast, he strove to reduce the storm of schemes, plans, and
hopes which surged up within him to some sort of order. He must punish
the fugitive--but yet more surely he would never again let her out of
his sight. But if only he could first have her cast to the wild beasts,
and then bring her to life again, crown her with the imperial diadem,
and load her with every gift that power and wealth could procure! He
would read every wish in her eyes, if only she would once more lay
her hand on his forehead, charm away his pain, and bring sleep to his
horror-stricken bed. He had done nothing to vex her; nay, every petition
she had urged--But suddenly the image rose before him of old Vindex and
his nephew, whom he had sent to execution in spite of her intercession;
and again the awful word, "the deed," rang in his inward ear. Were these
hideous thoughts to haunt him even by day?

No, no! In his waking hours there was much to be done which might give
him the strength to dissipate them.

The kitchen-steward was by this time in attendance; but what did
Caracalla care for dainties to tickle his palate now that he had a
hope of seeing Melissa once more? With perfect indifference he left the
catering to the skillful and inventive cook; and hardly had he retired
when Macrinus returned.

The slaughterer had acquired his information through a comrade, who said
that he had twice caught sight of Melissa at the window of the chambers
of mystery in the upper story of the Serapeum, yesterday afternoon. He
had hoped to win the reward which was offered for the recovery of the
fugitive, and had promised his colleague half the money if he would help
him to capture the maiden. But just at sunset, hearing that the massacre
was ended, the man had incautiously gone out into the town, where he had
been slain by a drunken solder of the Scythian legion. The hapless