surges of the sea. If he would reflect over what had happened as
dispassionately as usual, he could not fail to see that Antony must be
free and in a position to guide his own future, since he directed the
palace in the Choma to be put in order. He did not understand about the
wall, but perhaps he was bringing home some distinguished captive whom he
wished to debar from all communication with the city. It might prove that
everything was far better than they feared, and they would yet smile at
these grievous anxieties. His heart, too, was heavy, for he wished the
Queen the best fortune, not only for her own sake, but because with her
and her successful resistance to the greed of Rome was connected the
liberty of Alexandria.

"My love and anxiety, like yours," he concluded, "have ever been given to
her, the sovereign of this country. The world will be desolate, life will
no longer be worth living, if the iron foot of Rome crushes our
independence and freedom." The words had sounded cordial and sincere, and
Archibius followed Dion's counsel. Calm thought convinced him that
nothing had yet happened which compelled belief in the worst result; and,
as one who needs consolation often finds relief in comforting another,
Archibius cheered his own heart by representing to his younger friend
that, even if Octavianus were the victor and should deprive Egypt of her
independence, he would scarcely venture to take from the citizens of
Alexandria the free control of their own affairs. Then he explained to
Dion that, as a young, resolute, independent man, he might render himself
doubly useful if it were necessary to guard the endangered liberty of the
city, and told him how many beautiful things life still held in store.

His voice expressed anxious tenderness for his young friend. No one had
spoken thus to Dion since his father's death.

The Epicurus would soon reach the mouth of the harbour, and after landing
he must again leave Archibius.

The decisive hour which often unites earnest men more firmly than many
previous years had come to both. They had opened their hearts to each
other. Dion had withheld only the one thing which, at the first sight of
the houses in the city, filled his soul with fresh uneasiness.

It was long since he had sought counsel from others. Many who had asked
his, had left him with thanks, to do exactly the opposite of what he had
advised, though it would have been to their advantage. More than once he,
t