his boat to
the city, when Dione saw a boat approaching the Serpent Island from the
direction of the sea.

A short time after, Dion sprang on shore and kissed from his young wife's
lips the reproaches with which she greeted him.

He had heard of the treachery of the fleet while entering a hired boat
with the freedman in the harbour of Eunostus, Pyrrhus's having been
detained with the other craft before the Temple of Poseidon.

The experienced pilot had been obliged to steer the boat in a wider curve
against the wind through the open sea, and was delayed a long time by a
number of the war vessels of the fleet.

Danger and separation were now passed, and they rejoiced in the happiness
of meeting, yet could not feel genuine joy. Their souls were oppressed by
anxiety concerning the fate of the Queen and their native city.

As night closed in the dogs barked violently, and they heard loud voices
on the shore. Dion, with a presentiment that misfortune was threatening
himself and his dear ones, obeyed the summons.

No star illumined the darkness. Only the wavering light of a lantern on
the strand and another on the nearest island illumined the immediate
vicinity, while southward the lights in the city shone as brightly as
ever.

Pyrrhus and his youngest son were just pushing a boat into the water to
release from the sands another which had run aground in a shallow near
the neighbouring island.

Dion sprang in with them, and soon recognized in the hail the voice of
the architect Gorgias.

The young father shouted a joyous greeting to his friend, but there was
no reply.

Soon after, Pyrrhus landed his belated guest on the shore. He had
escaped--as the fisherman explained--a great danger; for had he gone to
the other island, which swarmed with venomous serpents, he might easily
have fallen a victim to the bite of one of the reptiles.

Gorgias grasped Dion's hand but, in reply to his gay invitation to
accompany him to the house at once, he begged him to listen to his story
before joining the ladies.

Dion was startled. He knew his friend. When his deep voice had such a
tone of gloomy discouragement, and his head drooped so mournfully, some
terrible event had befallen him.

His foreboding had been correct. The first tidings pierced his own soul
deeply.

He was not surprised to learn that the Romans ruled Alexandria; but a
small band of the conquerors, who had been ordered to conduct themselves
as if they were in