m the rising of the sun, whose course Caesar
had followed, such a tremendous roar that she involuntarily clutched her
companion's hand.

Every instant the storm of noise increased, rolling on with irresistible
vehemence, gathering force as it came on, receiving, as it were, fresh
tributaries on its way, and rapidly swelling from the distance to the
immediate vicinity, compelling every one, as with a magic power, to
yield to the superior will of numbers and join in the cry. Even Melissa
cheered. She, too, was as a drop in the tide, a leaf on the rippling
face of the rushing torrent; her heart beat as wildly and her voice rang
as clear as that of the rest of the throng, intoxicated with they knew
not what, which crowded the colonnades by the roadway, and every window
and roof-top, waving handkerchiefs, strewing flowers on the ground, and
wiping the tears which this unwonted excitement had brought to their
eyes.

And now the shout is so tremendous that it could not possibly be louder.
It seems as though it were the union of voices innumerable rather than
the seabreeze, which flutters the pennons and flags which wave from
every house and arch, and sways the garlands hung across the street.
Melissa can see none but flushed faces, eyes swimming in tears, parted
lips, wildly waving arms and hands. Then suddenly a mysterious power
hushes the loud tones close round her; she hears only here and there the
cry of "Caesar!" "He is coming!" "Here he is!"--and the swift tramp
of hoofs and the clatter of wheels sounding like the rattle of an iron
building after a peal of thunder, above the shouts of ten thousand human
beings. Closer it comes and closer, without a pause, and followed by
fresh shouting, as a flock of daws follow an owl flying across the
twilight, swelling again to irrepressible triumph as the expected
potentate rushes past Melissa and her neighbors. They only see Caesar
as a form scarcely discerned by the eye during the space of a
lightning-flash in a dark night.

Four tawny bay horses of medium size, dappled with black, harnessed
abreast and wide apart, fly along the cleared road like hunted foxes,
the light Gallic chariot at their heels. The wheels seem scarcely to
touch the smooth flags of the Alexandrian pavement. The charioteer wears
the red-bordered toga of the highest Roman officials. He is well known
by repute, and the subject of many a sharp jest; for this is Pandion,
formerly a stableboy, and now one of "Cae