s
she could not bear--this! . . . The slave-woman now followed her to desire
her to come up on deck; a new visitor had appeared on the scene, an old
acquaintance and fellow-voyager: Demetrius, Marcus' elder brother.

At any other time she would have made him gladly welcome, as a companion
and comfort in her solitude; but he had chosen an evil hour for his visit
and his proposals, as the girl's red cheeks and tearful eyes at once told
him.

He had come to fetch her, cost him what it might, and to carry her away
to his country-home, near Arsinoe on the coast. It was not that he had
any mad desire to make her his own, but that he thought it his most
urgent duty to preserve his inexperienced brother from the danger into
which his foolish passion for the little singing-girl was certain to
plunge him. A purse full of gold, and a necklace of turquoise and
diamonds, which he had purchased from a jeweller in the Jews' quarter for
a sum for which he had often sold a ship-load of corn or a whole cellar
full of wine or oil, were to supplement his proposals; and he went
straight to the point, asking the girl simply and plainly to leave her
friends and accompany him to Arsinoe. When she asked him, in much
astonishment, "What to do there?" he told her he wanted a cheerful
companion; he had taken a fancy to her saucy little nose, and though he
could not flatter himself that he had ever found favor in her eyes he had
brought something with him which she would certainly like, and which
might help him to win her kindness. He was not niggardly, and if
this--and this--and he displayed the sparkling necklace and laid the
purse on her pillow--could please her she might regard them as an earnest
of more, as much more as she chose, for his pockets were deep.

Dada did not interrupt him, for the growing indignation with which she
heard him took away her breath. This fresh humiliation was beyond the
bounds of endurance; and when at last she recovered her powers of speech
and action, she flung the purse off the divan, and as it fell clattering
on the floor, she kicked it away as far as possible, as though it were
plague-tainted. Then, standing upright in front of her suitor, she
exclaimed:

"Shame upon you all! You thought that because I am a poor girl, a
singing-girl, and because you have filthy gold. . . . Your brother Marcus
would never have done such a thing, I am very sure! . . . And you, a horrid
peasant! . . . If you ever dare set foot