it was now nearly noon.
He was almost always within at this hour, and it would spoil half her
gladness not to find him there.

But what was this? What could this mean? The dog had announced her
approach, and old Dido's gray head peeped out of the house-door, to
vanish again at once. How strangely she had looked at her--exactly
as she had looked that day when the physician had told the faithful
creature that her mistress's last hour was at hand!

Melissa's contentment was gone. Before she even crossed the threshold,
where the friendly word "Rejoice" greeted her in brown mosaic, she
called the old woman by name. No answer.

She went into the kitchen to find Dido; for she, according to her
invariable habit of postponing evil as long as possible, had fled to the
hearth. There she stood, though the fire was out, weeping bitterly, and
covering her wrinkled face with her hands, as though she quailed before
the eyes of the girl she must so deeply grieve. One glance at the woman,
and the tears which trickled through her fingers and down her lean
arms told Melissa that something dreadful had happened. Very pale, and
clasping her hand to her heaving bosom, she desired to be told all; but
for some time Dido was quite unable to speak intelligibly. And before
she could make up her mind to it, she looked anxiously for Argutis, whom
she held to be the wisest of mankind, and who, she knew, would reveal
the dreadful thing that must be told more judiciously than she could.
But the Gaul was not to be seen; so Dido, interrupted by sobs, began the
melancholy tale.

Heron had come home between midnight and sunrise and had gone to bed.
Next morning, while he was feeding the birds, Zminis, the captain of the
night-watch, had come in with some men-at-arms, and had tried to take
the artist prisoner in Caesar's name. On this, Heron had raved like
a bull, had appealed to his Macedonian birth, his rights as a Roman
citizen, and much besides, and demanded to know of what he was accused.
He was then informed that he was to be held in captivity by the special
orders of the head of the police, till his son Alexander, who was guilty
of high-treason, should surrender to the authorities. But her master,
said Dido, sobbing, had knocked down the man who had tried to bind him
with a mighty blow of his fist. At last there was a fearful uproar, and
in fact a bloody fight. The starling shouted his cry through it all, the
birds fluttered and piped with terro