rge writing-table, he whispered: "And with all
this, must my royal mistress devote time and thought to the destroyer of
her peace. To disturb your Majesty with this trifle is a crime; yet it
must be committed, for should the affair remain unheeded longer, the
trickling rivulet may become a mountain torrent--"

Here Cleopatra, whose glance had just rested upon a fateful letter from
King Herod, turned her face half towards her husband's favourite,
exclaiming curtly, with glowing cheeks, "Presently."

Then she glanced rapidly over the letter, pushed it excitedly aside, and
dismissed the waiting Syrian with the impatient words: "Attend to the
trial and the rest. No injustice, but no untimely mildness. I will look
into this unpleasant matter myself before the Imperator returns."

"And the authority?" asked the Syrian, with another low bow.

"You have it. If you need a written one, apply to Zeno. We will discuss
the affair further at some less busy hour."

The Syrian retired; but Cleopatra turned to the eunuch and, flushed with
emotion, cried, pointing to the King of Judea's letter: "Did you ever
witness baser ingratitude? The rats think the ship is sinking, and it is
time to leave it. If we succeed in keeping above water, they will return
in swarms; and this must, must, must be done, for the sake of this
beloved country and her independence. Then the children, the children!
All our powers must now be taxed, every expedient must be remembered and
used. We will hammer each feeble hope until it becomes the strong steel
of certainty. We will transform night into day. The canal will save the
fleet. Mark Antony will find in Africa Pinarius Scarpus with untouched
loyal legions. The gladiators are faithful to us. We can easily make them
ours, and my brain is seething with other plans. But first we will attend
to the Alexandrians. No violence!"

This exclamation was followed by order after order, and the promise that,
if necessary, she would show herself to the people.

The Exegetus was filled with admiration as he received the clear,
sagacious directions. After he had retired with his companions, the Queen
again turned to the Regent, saying: "We did wisely to make the people
happy at first with tidings of victory. The unexpected news of terrible
disaster might have led them to some unprecedented deed of madness.
Disappointment is a more common pain, for which less powerful remedies
will suffice. Besides, many things could be a