r brother
had found a refuge in the house of Zeno, and that Andreas, Polybius, and
all dear to them were quite recovered after those evil days. The
town had long been rid of Caesar, and Zeno had consented to allow his
daughter Agatha to marry Alexander.

In obedience to her motherly adviser, the convalescent remained quiet
for a while; but joy seemed to have doubled her strength, for she
desired to see Agatha, Alexander, and Andreas, and--she colored, and a
beseeching glance met Euryale's eyes--and Diodoros.

But meanwhile the physician Ptolemaeus had come into the room, and he
would allow no one to come near her this evening but Zeno's daughter.
His grave eyes were dim with tears as, when taking leave, he whispered
to the Lady Euryale:

"All is well. Even her mind is saved."

He was right. From day to day and from hour to hour her recovery
progressed and her strength improved. And there was much for her to see
and hear, which did her more good than medicine, even though she had
been moved to fresh grief by the death of her brother and many friends.

Like Melissa, her lover and Alexander had been led by thorny paths to
the stars which shine on happy souls and shed their light in the hearts
of those to whom the higher truth is revealed. It was as Christians that
Diodoros and Alexander both came to visit the convalescent. That which
had won so many Alexandrians to the blessings of the new faith had
attracted them too, and the certainty of finding their beloved among the
Christians had been an added inducement to crave instruction from Zeno.
And it had been given them in so zealous and captivating a manner that,
in their impressionable hearts, the desire for learning had soon been
turned to firm conviction and inspired ardor.

Agatha was betrothed to Alexander.

The scorn of his fellow-citizens, which had fallen on the innocent youth
and which he had supposed would prevent his ever winning her love, had
in fact secured it to him, for Agatha's father was very ready to trust
his child to the man who had rescued her, whom she loved, and in whom he
saw one of the lowly who should be exalted.

Alexander was not told of Philip's death till his own wounds were
healed; but he had meanwhile confided to Andreas that he had made up his
mind to fly to a distant land that he might never again see Agatha, and
thus not rob the brother on whom he had brought such disaster of the
woman he loved. The freedman had heard him with dee