of pain, the old man could express his views clearly and
intelligently.

At last he took his leave; and now Praxilla had to direct the slaves who
were to carry her brother to bed. She carefully arranged the cushions on
his couch, and gave him his medicine and night-draught. Then she returned
to Melissa, and the sight of the sleeping girl touched her heart. She
stood gazing at her for some time in silence, and then bent over her to
wake her with a kiss. She had at last made up her mind to regard the
gem-cutter's daughter as her niece, so, determined to treat her as a
child of her own, she called Melissa by name.

This awoke the sleeper, and when she had realized that she was still in
Polybius's eating-room, she asked for Andreas.

"He has gone back to the town, my child," replied Praxilla. "He was
anxious about your betrothed."

"Is he worse, then?" asked Melissa, in alarm. "No, no," said the widow,
soothingly. "It is only--I assure you we have heard nothing new--"

"But what then?" Melissa inquired. "The great Galen is to see him early
to-morrow." Praxilla tried to divert her thoughts. But as the girl would
take no answer to her declaration that Galen himself had promised to see
Diodoros, Praxilla, who was little used to self-command, and who was
offended by her persistency, betrayed the fact that Melissa had spoken to
the wrong man, and that Andreas was gone to remove Diodoros to the
Serapeum.

At this, Melissa suddenly understood why Andreas had not rejoiced with
her, and at the same time she said to herself that her lover must on no
account be exposed to so great a danger without her presence. She must
lend her aid in transporting him to the Serapeum; and when she firmly
expressed her views to the widow, Praxilla was shocked, and sincerely
repented of having lost her self-control. It was far too late, and when
the housekeeper came into the room and gladly volunteered to accompany
Melissa to the town, Praxilla threatened to rouse her brother, that he
might insist on their remaining at home; but at last she relented, for
the girl, she saw, would take her own way against any opposition.

The housekeeper had been nurse to Diodoros, and had been longing to help
in tending him. When she left the house with Melissa, her eyes were moist
with tears of joy and thankfulness.

CHAPTER X.

The Nubian boat-keeper and his boy had soon ferried them across the lake.
Melissa and her companion then turned off from the