f the infant Horus. I have them from
Isis herself. The effect is rapid and certain. Come to Hezron, the
dealer in balsams in the street of the Nekropolis. Your lover's
recovery--for five drachmae."

But Melissa, who was no stranger here since her mother's last sickness,
went on without pausing, following the litter down the long hall full
of beds, a room with a stone roof resting on two rows of tall columns.
Familiar to her too was the aromatic scent of kyphi,--[incense]--which
filled the hall, although fresh air was constantly pouring in from
outside through the high windows. Red and green curtains hung in
front of them, and the subdued light which came through fell in tinted
twilight on the colored pictures in relief of the history of the gods,
which covered the walls. Speech was forbidden here, and their steps fell
noiseless on the thick, heavy mats.

Most of the beds were already empty; only those between the long wall
and the nearest row of columns were still for the most part occupied by
the sick who sought the help of the god. On one of these Diodoros was
laid, Melissa helping in silence, and with such skill as delighted even
the physicians. Still, this did not wake him, though on the next bed lay
a man who never ceased speaking, because in his dream he had been bidden
to repeat the name of Serapis as many times as there were drops in a cup
of water filled from the Agathodaemon Canal.

"A long stay in this strong perfume will be bad for him," whispered
Ptolemaeus to the freedman. "Galenus sent word that he would visit the
sick early to-day; but he is not here yet. He is an old man, and in
Rome, they say, it is the custom to sleep late."

He was interrupted by a stir in the long hall, which broke in on the
silence, no one knew from whence; and immediately after, officious hands
threw open the great double doors with a loud noise.

"He is coming," whispered their priestly guide; and the instant after
an old man crossed the threshold, followed by a troop of pastophori, as
obsequious as the courtiers at the heels of a prince.

"Gently, brothers," murmured the greatest physician of his age in a low
voice, as, leaning on a staff, he went toward the row of couches. It
was easy to see the traces of his eighty years, but his fine eyes still
gleamed with youthful light.

Melissa blushed to think that she could have mistaken Serenus Samonicus
for this noble old man. He must once have been a tall man; his back
was be