e
whole night."

Alexander then felt sorry he had been so foolishly turbulent, and after
Melissa had told him in a few words what she had gone through in the last
few hours he informed her of what had brought him to visit the emperor so
late.

Johannes the lawyer, Berenike's Christian freedman, he began, had visited
their father in prison and had heard the order given to place Heron and
Philip as state prisoners and oarsmen on board a galley.

This had taken place in the afternoon, and the Christian had further
learned that the prisoners would be led to the harbor two hours before
sunset. This was the truth, and yet the infamous Zminis had assured the
emperor, at noon, that their father and Philip were already far on their
way to Sardinia. The worthless Egyptian had, then, lied to the emperor;
and it would most likely cost the scoundrel his neck. But for this, there
would have been time enough next day. What had brought him there at so
late an hour was the desire to prevent the departure of the galley; for
John had heard, from the Christian harbor-watch that the anchor was not
yet weighed. The ship could therefore only get out to sea at sunrise; the
chain that closed the harbor would not be opened till then. If the order
to stop the galley came much after daybreak, she would certainly be by
that time well under way, and their father and Philip might have
succumbed to the hard rowing before a swift trireme could overtake and
release them.

Melissa had listened to this information with mixed feelings. She had
perhaps precipitated her father and brother into misery in order to save
herself; for a terrible fate awaited the state-prisoners at the oars. And
what could she do, an ignorant child, who was of so little use?

Andreas had told her that it was the duty of a Christian and of every
good man, if his neighbor's welfare were concerned, to sacrifice his own
fortunes; and for the happiness and lives of those dearest to her--for
they, of all others, were her "neighbors"--she felt that she could do so.
Perhaps she might yet succeed in repairing the mischief she had done when
she had allowed the emperor to sleep without giving one thought to her
father. Instead of waking him, she had misused her new power over her
brother, and, by preventing his speaking, had perhaps frustrated the
rescue of her people.

But idle lamenting was of as little use here as at any other time; so she
resolutely drew her veil closer round her