arded the long delay of the first ships of the fleet
with anxiety, had opened their ears to the tales of evil, and looked
forward to the future with uneasiness. But they avoided giving expression
to their fears, for the overseer of an establishment for gold embroidery,
who had ventured to warn the people against premature rejoicing, had
limped home badly beaten, and two other pessimists who had been flung in
the sea had just been dragged out dripping wet.

Nor could the multitude be blamed for this confidence; for at the
Serapeum, the theatre of Dionysus, the lofty pylons of the Sebasteum, the
main door of the museum, in front of the entrance of the palace in the
Bruchium, and before the fortress-like palaces in the Lochias, triumphal
arches had been erected, adorned with gods of victory and trophies
hastily constructed of plaster, inscriptions of congratulations and
thanks to the deities, garlands of foliage and flowers. The wreathing of
the Egyptian pylons and obelisks, the principal temple, and the favourite
statues in the city had been commenced during the night. The last touches
were now being given to the work.

Gorgias, like his friend Dion, had not closed his eyes since the night
before; for he had had charge of all the decorations of the Bruchium,
where one superb building adjoined another.

Sleep had also fled from the couches of the occupants of the Sebasteum,
the royal palace where Iras lived during the absence of the Queen, and
the practorium, facing its southern front, which contained the official
residence of the Regent.

When Archibius was conducted to the Queen's waiting-woman, her appearance
fairly startled him. She had been his guest in Kanopus only the day
before yesterday, and how great was the alteration within this brief
time! Her oval face seemed to have lengthened, the features to have grown
sharper; and this woman of seven-and-twenty years, who had hitherto
retained all the charms of youth, appeared suddenly to have aged a
decade. There was a feverish excitement in her manner, as, holding out
her hand to her uncle, in greeting, she exclaimed hastily, "You, too,
bring no good tidings?"

"Nor any evil ones," he answered quietly. "But, child, I do not like your
appearance--the dark circles under your keen eyes. You have had news
which rouses your anxiety?"

"Worse than that," she answered in a low tone.

"Well?"

"Read!" gasped Iras, her lips and nostrils quivering as she handed
Archibiu