age, she turned and fled back to
her room and barred her door upon him.

After sunset the lights leaped up in the hall of Amaryllis the Greek.
Presently there came a knock at Laodice's door. The girl, fearing that
Philadelphus stood without, sat still and made no answer. A moment
later the visitor spoke. It was the little girl who acted as page for
the Greek.

"Open, lady; it is I, Myrrha."

Laodice went to the windows.

"Amaryllis sends thee greeting and would speak with thee, in her
hall," the girl said.

Reluctantly Laodice, who feared the revelation which the light might
have to make of her stunned and revolted face, followed the page.

The Greek was standing, as if in evidence that the interview would not
be long. She noted the intense change on the face of her young guest
and watched her narrowly for any new light which her disclosure would
bring.

"I have sent for thee," the Greek began smoothly, "to tell thee
somewhat that I should perhaps withhold, that thou shouldst sleep
well, this night. But it is a perplexity perhaps thou wouldst face at
once."

Laodice bowed her head.

"It is this: Titus and his friend, Nicanor, approached too close the
walls this day, and Nicanor was wounded by an arrow. In retaliation,
perfect siege hath been laid about the walls. None may come into the
city."

"And--Momus, my servant," Laodice cried, waking for the first time to
the calamity in this blockade, "he can not come back to me?"

"No. If he attempts it, he will be captured and put to death."

Laodice clasped her hands, while drop by drop the color left her face.

"In God's name," she whispered, "what will become of me?"

Amaryllis made no answer.

"Can--can I not go out?" Laodice asked presently, depending entirely
on the Greek as adviser.

"You can--but to what fortune? Perhaps--" She stopped a moment. "No,"
she continued, "you have never been in a camp. No; you can not go
out."

"What, then, am I to do?" Laodice cried with increasing alarm.

Amaryllis shrugged her shoulders.

"I can advise with John," she said. "Doubtless he will allow you to
remain here until you can provide yourself with other shelter."

Laodice heard this cold sentence with a chill of fear that was new to
her. Faint pictures of hunger and violence, terrifying in the extreme,
confronted her. Yet not any of them frightened her more than the
offered favor of the Gischalan. Her indignation at the woman who had
supplanted her swept