loaded with bales, cases, tents,
and camp and kitchen furniture. Mingling with these came sutlers,
attendants, pages, heralds, musicians, and slaves of the imperial
household, in knots and parties, looking boldly about them at the
bystanders. When they caught sight of a young and pretty woman on the
edge of the path, they would wave a greeting; and many expressed their
admiration of Melissa in a very insolent manner. Woolly-headed negroes
and swarthy natives of north Africa mixed with the fairer dwellers on the
Mediterranean and the yellow or red haired sons of northern Europe. Roman
lictors, and Scythian, Thracian, or Keltic men-at-arms kept every one out
of the way who did not belong to the imperial train, with relentless
determination. Only the Magians, wonder-workers, and street wenches were
suffered to push their way in among the horses, asses, elephants, dogs,
vehicles, and mounted troops.

Each time that one of the unwieldy traveling-carriages, drawn by several
horses, came in sight, in which the wealthy Roman was wont to take his
ease on a long journey, or whenever a particularly splendid litter was
borne past, Melissa asked the mosaic-worker for information. In some few
instances Andreas could satisfy her curiosity, for he had spent some
months at Antioch on a matter of business, and had there come to know by
sight some of Caesar's most illustrious companions.

So far the great Galenus was not of the number; for Caracalla, who was
ailing, had but lately commanded his presence. The famous physician had
sailed for Pelusium, in spite of his advanced age, and had only just
joined the sovereign's suite. The old man's chariot had been pointed out
to the mosaic-worker at the Kanopic Gate, and he was certain that he
could not mistake it for any other; it was one of the largest and
handsomest; the side doors of it were decorated with the AEsculapius
staff and the cup of Hygeia in silver, and on the top were statuettes in
wood of Minerva and of AEsculapius. On hearing all this, Melissa's face
beamed with happy and hopeful anticipation. With one hand pressed to her
throbbing bosom, she watched each vehicle as it drove past with such
intense expectancy that she paid no heed to Andreas's hint that they
might now be able to make their way through the crowd.

Now--and the freedman had called her once more--here was another
monstrous conveyance, belonging to Julius Paulinus, the former consul,
whose keen face, with its brigh