enied it, and yet he seemed pleased, and promised to grant her
request. It was not fitting that a girl so young should enter any house
where Caesar and his train took up their abode; he would wait for her,
"there"--and he pointed to a small, round temple to Aphrodite, on
the left-hand side of the street of Hermes, where the road was rather
wider--for the coach had meanwhile slowly moved on.

Next day, at three hours after the rising of the fierce African sun--for
he could not bear its meridian heat--he would go thither in his litter.
"And be sure you are there in good time!" he added, shaking his finger
at her.

"If you come an hour too soon, you will find me waiting!" she cried.

He laughed, and said, "What pretty maid, indeed, would dare to be late
for an appointment under the very eyes of the goddess of Love!" He bade
her a friendly farewell, and lay back in the chariot.

Melissa, radiant with happiness, looked about her for the place where
she had left her companion. However, in spite of the lictors, Andreas
had followed her; he drew her hand under his arm, and led her through
the now-thinning crowd into a sidelane which led to the lake, opening
out of the colonnaded street opposite the little temple.

Melissa's steps were winged. Her joy at having gained her end so quickly
and so easily was uppermost in her mind, and as they threaded their way
among the people she tried to tell Andreas what the great physician had
promised. But the noise drowned her speech, for at this moment Caesar's
tame lion, named the "Sword of Persia" was being led through the street
by some Numidian slaves.

Every one was looking at the splendid beast; and, as she too turned to
gaze, her eye met the ardent glance of a tall, bearded man standing at
the window of a house just behind the round temple to Aphrodite. She at
once recognized Serapion, the Magian, and whispered his name to Andreas;
he, however, without looking round, only drew her along more quickly,
and did not breathe easily till they found themselves in the narrow,
deserted alley.

The Magian had observed her while she stood by the Roman's chariot, and
his conversation with a Syrian of middle age in his company had been
of her. His companion's appearance was as insignificant as his own was
stately and commanding. Nothing distinguished the Syrian from a thousand
of his fellows but the cunning stamped on his sharply-cut features;
still, the great Magian seemed to hold him in s