ng to
which Alexandria owed a part of her greatness, by decreeing that the
Museum and schools should be removed and the theatres closed.

Maddening alike to heart and brain was the memory that he left behind
him, and the citizens would shake their fists if only his name were
spoken. But their biting tongues had ceased to mock or jest. Most of the
epigramatists were silenced forever, and the nimble wit of the survivors
was quelled for many a month by bitter curses or tears of sorrow.

But now--it was a fortnight since the dreadful man had left--the shops
and stores, which had been closed against the plunderers, were being
reopened. Life was astir again in the deserted and silent baths and
taverns, for there was no further fear of rapine from insolent soldiers,
or the treacherous ears of spies and delators. Women and girls could
once more venture into the highways, the market was filled with dealers,
and many an one who was conscious of a heedless speech or suspected of
whistling in the circus, or of some other crime, now came out of his
well-watched hiding-place.

Glaukias, the sculptor, among others, reopened his work-rooms in Heron's
garden-plot. In the cellar beneath the floor the gem-cutter had remained
hidden with Polybius and his sister Praxilla, for the easy-going old man
could not be induced to embark in the vessel which Argutis had hired for
them. Sooner would he die than leave Alexandria. He was too much
petted and too infirm to face the discomforts of a sea voyage. And his
obstinacy had served him well, for the ship in which they were to have
sailed, though it got out before the harbor was closed, was overtaken
and brought back by an imperial galley.

Polybius was, however, quite willing to accept Heron's invitation to
share his hiding-place.

Now they could both come out again; but these few weeks had affected
them very differently. The gem-cutter looked like the shadow of himself,
and had lost his upright carriage. He knew, indeed, that Melissa was
alive, and that Alexander, after being wounded, had been carried by
Andreas to the house of Zeno, and was on the way to recovery; but
the death of his favorite son preyed on his mind, and it was a great
grievance that his house should have been wrecked and burned. His hidden
gold, which was safe with him, would have allowed of his building a
far finer one in its stead, but the fact that it should be his
fellow-citizens who had destroyed it was worst of all. I