son Alexander, had both represented
to him so forcibly that a union with the emperor would render Melissa
most unhappy, if it did not lead to death, that he had been reduced to
silence. Only, when they spoke of the necessity of flight, he burst
out again, declaring that the time had not yet come for such extreme
measures.

When Melissa now rejoined them, he spoke of the emperor's behavior
toward her as being worthy of a man of honor, and endeavored to touch
her heart by representing what an old man must feel who should be forced
to leave the house where his father and grandfather had lived before
him, and even the town whose earth held all that was dearest to him.

Here the tears which so easily rose to his eyes began to flow, and,
seeing that Melissa's tender heart was moved by his sorrow, he gained
confidence, and reproached his daughter for having kindled Caracalla's
love, by her radiant eyes--so like her mother's! Honestly believing that
his affection was returned, Caesar was offering her the highest honor in
his power; if she fled from him, he would have every right to complain
of having been basely deceived, and to call her a heartless wanton.

Alexander now came to his sister's aid, and reminded him how Melissa
had hazarded life and liberty to save him and her brothers. She had been
forced to look so kindly into the tyrant's face if only to sue for their
pardon, and it became him ill to make this a reproach to his daughter.

Melissa nodded gratefully to her brother, but Heron remained firm in
his assertion that to think of flight would be foolish, or at least
premature.

At this, Alexander repeated to him that Melissa had whispered in his
ear that she would rather die at once than live in splendor, but in
perpetual fear, by the side of an unloved husband; whereupon Heron began
to breathe hard, as he always did before an outburst of anger.

But a message, calling him to the emperor's presence, soon calmed him.

At parting, he kissed Melissa, and murmured "Would you really drive your
old father out of our dear home, away from his work, and his birds--from
his garden, and your mother's grave? Is it then so terrible to live as
empress, in splendor and honor? I am going to Caesar--you can not hinder
me from greeting him kindly from you?"

Without waiting for an answer, he left the room; but when he was outside
he took care to glance at himself in the mirror, arrange his beard and
hair, and place his gigantic