se he is
immortal; while Caesar's brother was as feeble a mortal as Caracalla
himself is said to be at this day."

He laughed noisily; but it was for the last time that morning; for hardly
had he heard the name of Zminis, and learned that it was he who had over
heard Alexander, than he threw down the wax and started to his feet in
horror, crying:

"That dog, who dared to cast his eyes on your mother, and persecuted her
long after she had shown him the door! That sly mischief-maker! Many a
time has he set snares in our path. If he succeeds in tightening the
noose into which the boy has so heedlessly thrust his head--But first
tell me, has he caught him already, or is Alexander still at liberty?"

But no one, not even Argutis, who was still out on the search, could tell
him this; and he was now so greatly disturbed that, during the rest of
Melissa's narrative, he perpetually paced the room, interrupting her now
and then with questions or with outbursts of indignation. And then it
occurred to him that he ought himself to seek his son, and he occupied
himself with getting ready to go out.

Even when she spoke of the Magian, and his conviction that those who know
are able to hold intercourse with the souls of the dead, he shrugged his
shoulders incredulously, and went on lacing his sandals. But when Melissa
assured him that not she alone, but Diodoros with her, had seen the
wandering soul of the departed Korinna in the train of ghosts, he dropped
the straps he had bound round his ankle, and asked her who this Magian
was, and where he might be found. However, she knew no more than that his
name was Serapion, and she briefly described his dignified presence.

Heron had already seen the man, and he seemed still to be thinking of
him, when Melissa, with a blush and downcast eyes, confessed that, as
soon as he was well again, Diodoros was coming to her father to ask her
of him in marriage.

It was a long story before she came at last to her own concerns, but it
was always her way not to think of herself till every one else had had
his due.

But what about her father? Had she spoken inaudibly, or was he really
unable to-day to be glad? or what ailed him, that he paid no heed to the
news which, even for him, was not without its importance, but, without a
word of consent or disapproval, merely bade her go on with her story?

Melissa called him by name, as if to wake a man from sleep, and asked
whether it were indeed possibl