the conquerors, who had been ordered to conduct themselves
as if they were in a friendly country, had forced their way into the
architect's large house to occupy the quarters assigned to them. The
deaf grandmother of Helena and Barine, who had but half comprehended
what threatened the citizens, terrified by the noisy entrance of the
soldiers, had had another attack of apoplexy, and closed her eyes in
death before Gorgias set out for the island.

But it was not only this sad event, which must grieve the hearts of the
two sisters, that had brought the architect in a stranger's boat to
the Serpent Island at so late an hour. His soul was so agitated by the
horrible incidents of the day that he needed to seek consolation among
those from whom he was sure to find sympathy.

Nor was it wholly the terrible things Fate had compelled him to witness
which induced him to venture out upon the sea so recklessly, but still
more the desire to bring to the fugitives the happy news that they might
return with safety to their native city.

Deeply agitated--nay, confused and overpowered by all he had seen and
experienced--the architect, usually so clear and, with all his mental
vivacity, so circumspect, began his story. A remonstrance from Dion
induced him to collect his thoughts and describe events in the order in
which they had befallen him.

CHAPTER XXIII.

After accompanying Dion to the harbour, the architect had gone to the
Forum to converse with the men he met there, and learn what they feared
and expected in regard to the future fate of the city.

All news reached this meeting-place first, and he found a large number
of Macedonian citizens who, like himself, wished to discuss passing
events in these decisive hours.

The scene was very animated, for the most contradictory messages were
constantly arriving from the fleet and the army.

At first they were very favourable; then came the news of the treason,
and soon after of the desertion of the cavalry and foot soldiers.

A distinguished citizen had seen Mark Antony, accompanied by several
friends, dashing down the quay. The goal of their flight was the little
palace on the Choma.

Grave men, whose opinion met with little opposition, thought that it was
the duty of the Imperator--now that Fate had decided against him, and
nothing remained save a life sullied by disgrace--to put himself to
death with his own hand, like Brutus and so many other noble Romans.
Tidings soo