ted her. Not until she entered the second room, which she had
assigned to her guest, did she find Barine, who was weeping bitterly.
During Charmian's absence the latter had received a letter from Alexas,
in which he informed her that he was ordered by the Queen to subject her
to an examination the next morning. Her cause looked dark but, if she did
not render his duty harder by the harshness which had formerly caused him
much pain, he would do his utmost to protect her from imprisonment,
forced labour in the mines, or even worse misfortunes. The imprudent game
which she had played with King Caesarion had unfortunately roused the
people against her. The depth of their indignation was shown by the fury
with which they had assailed the house of her grandfather, Didymus.
Nothing could save Dion, who had audaciously attacked the illustrious son
of their beloved Queen, from the rage of the populace. He, Alexas, knew
that in this Dion she would lose a friend and protector, but he would be
disposed to take his place if her conduct did not render it impossible
for him to unite mercy with justice.
This shameful letter, which promised Barine clemency in return for her
favour without unmasking him in his character of judge, explained to
Charmian the agitation in which she found her friend's daughter.
It was doubtless a little relief to Barine to express her loathing and
abhorrence of Alexas as eagerly as her gentle nature would permit, but
fear, grief, and indignation continued to struggle for the mastery in her
oppressed soul.
It would have been expected that the keen-witted woman would have eagerly
inquired what Charmian had accomplished with the Queen and Archibius, and
what new events had happened to affect Cleopatra, the state, and the
city; but she questioned her with far deeper interest concerning the
welfare of her lover, desiring information in regard to many things of
which her friend could give no tidings. In her brief visit to Dion's
couch she had not learned how he bore his own misfortunes and Barine's,
what view he took of the future, or what he expected from the woman he
loved.
Charmian's ignorance and silence in regard to these very matters
increased the anxiety of the endangered woman, who saw not only her own
life, but those dearest to her, seriously threatened. So she entreated
her hostess to relieve her from the uncertainty which was harder to
endure than the most terrible reality; but the latter either
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