s high aim, the throne.

Macrinus knew enough of human nature to observe the miserable
disquietude that had seized upon the emperor at his bride's continued
absence, but he took good care not to refer to the subject. When
Caracalla, however, could no longer conceal his anxiety, and asked after
her himself, the prefect gave the appointed sign to Epagathos, who then
handed Melissa's freshly re-sealed letter to his master.

"Let me open it, great Caesar," entreated Macrinus. "Even Homer called
Egypt the land of poison."

But the emperor did not heed him. No one had told him, and he had never
in his life received a letter in a woman's hand, except from his
mother; and yet he knew that this delicate little roll had come from a
woman--from Melissa.

It was closed with a silken thread, and the seal with which Epagathos
had replaced the one they had broken. If Caracalla tore it open, the
papyrus and the writing might be damaged. He called impatiently for
a knife, and the body physician, who had just entered with other
courtiers, handed him his.

"Back again?" asked Caracalla as the physician drew the blade from its
sheath.

"At break of day, on somewhat unsteady legs," was the jovial answer.
Caracalla took the knife from him, cut the silk, hastily broke the seal,
and began to read.

Till now his hands had performed their office steadily, but suddenly
they began to tremble, and while he ran his eye over Melissa's
refusal--there were but a few lines-his knees shook, and a sharp, low
cry burst from him, like no sound that lies by nature in the throat of
man. Rent in two pieces, the strip of papyrus fluttered to the ground.

The prefect caught the despot, who, seized with giddiness, stretched out
his hands as if seeking a support. The physician hurriedly brought out
the drug which Galenus had advised him to use in such cases, and which
he always carried with him, and then, pointing to the letter, asked the
prefect:

"In the name of all the gods, from whom?"

"From the gem-cutter's fair daughter," replied Macrinus, with a
contemptuous shrug.

"From her?" cried the physician, indignantly. From that light Phryne,
who kissed and embraced my rich host's son down there in his sick-room?

"At this the emperor, who had not lost consciousness for one moment,
started as if stung by a serpent, and sprang at the physician's throat
screaming while he threatened to strangle him:

"What was that? What did you say? Cursed babbler!