ments, and the like. I met
Glaukias the sculptor, and he begged me not to forget it; for he knows
where the lad is hidden, and was on the point of going over to see him.
The man had made himself perfectly unrecognizable. He is a true friend,
if such a thing there be! And how grieved he was to hear of my father's
ill fortune! I believe he is envious of Diodoros."

Melissa shook a finger at him; but she turned pale, and curiously
inquired whether her brother had remembered to warn Glaukias on no
account to tell Alexander that it was in his power to release his father.

Philip struck his brow, and, with a helpless fall of the mouth, which was
usually so firmly set and ready to sneer, he exclaimed, like a boy caught
in mischief: "That, that--I can not imagine how I forgot it, but I did
not mention it. What strange absence of mind! But I can remedy it at once
on the spot. Argutis--nay, I will go myself."

He sprang up, and was on the point of carrying out his sudden purpose,
but Melissa detained him. With a decisiveness which again amazed him, she
desired him to remain; and while he paced the workroom with rapid
strides, heaping abuse on himself, now striking his breast, and now
pushing his fingers through his disordered hair, she made it clear to him
that he could not reach Alexander in time to prevent his knowing all, and
that the only result of his visit would be to put the watch on the track.
Instead of raving and lamenting, he would do better to tell her whither
he had been.

First, he hastily began, he had gone to the prefect Titianus, who was an
elderly man of a noble family, many of whose members had ere now occupied
the official residence of the prefect in Alexandria, and in other towns
of Egypt. He had often met Philip at the disputations he was wont to
attend in the Museum, and had a great regard for him. But of late
Titianus had been out of health, and had kept his house. He had undergone
some serious operation shortly before Caesar's arrival at Alexandria had
been announced, and this had made it impossible for him to be present at
the grand reception, or even to pay his respects to Caracalla.

When Philip had sent in his name, Titianus had been very ready to receive
him; but while the philosopher was still waiting in the anteroom,
wondering to find it so empty--for it was usually crowded with the
clients, petitioners, and friends of the most important man in the
province--a bustle had arisen behind him, and