d the augurs met him at the bottom
of the steps and Caesar's eye again put on the cruel scowl of yesterday,
she would not doubt that it was stern self-command which gave him that
threatening glare, to seem terrible, in spite of his anguish, to those
whose obedience he required. He had really needed his companion's support
as they descended the stair, that she could plainly see; and she had
observed, too, how carefully his guide had striven to conceal the fact
that he was upholding him; but the courtier was too tall to achieve the
task he had set himself. Now, she was much shorter than Caesar, and she
was strong, too. Her arm would have afforded him a much better support.

But how could she think of such a thing?--she, the sister of Alexander,
the betrothed of Diodoros, whom she truly loved!

Caesar mingled with the priests, and her guide told her that the corridor
was now free. She peeped into the litter, and, seeing that Diodoros still
slept, she followed him, lost in thought, and giving short and heedless
answers to Andreas and the physicians She had not listened to the
priest's information, and scarcely turned her head to look out, when a
tall, thin man with a bullet-head and deeply wrinkled brow was pointed
out to her as Macrinus, the prefect of the body-guard, the most powerful
man in Rome next to Caesar; and then the "friends" of Caracalla, whom she
had seen yesterday, and the historian Dion Cassius, with other senators
and members of the imperial train.

Now, as they made their way through halls and passages where the foot of
the uninitiated rarely intruded, she looked about her with more interest
when the priest drew her attention to some particularly fine statue or
picture, or some symbolical presentment. Even now, however, though
association with her brothers had made her particularly alive to
everything that was beautiful or curious, she glanced round with less
interest than she otherwise might have done, for she had much else to
think of. In the first place, of the benefits Diodoros was to derive from
the great Galen; then of her father, who this day must dispense with her
assistance; and, finally, of the state of mind of her grave brother
Philip. He and Alexander, who usually were such united friends, now both
were in love with Agatha, and what could come of that? And from time to
time her thoughts flew back to Caesar, and she felt as though some tie,
she knew not what, linked them together.

As soon as