some few years, for Seleukus had quarreled with his brother's family when
they had embraced Christianity. The third brother, Timotheus, the
high-priest of Serapis, had proved more placable, and his wife Euryale
was of all women the one she loved best. And presently it appeared that
Agatha, too, had lost her mother, and this drew the girls so closely
together, that they clasped hands and walked on like sisters or old and
dear friends.

They were not kept long waiting outside the house of Proterius, for
Andreas was in the vestibule arranging the litter for the conveyance of
Diodoros, with the willing help of Ptolemaeus. The freedman was indeed
amazed when he heard Melissa's voice, and blamed her for this fresh
adventure. However, he was glad to see her, for, although it seemed
almost beyond the bounds of possibility, he had already fancied more than
once, as steps had approached and passed, that she must surely be coming
to lend him a helping hand.

It was easy to hear in his tone of voice that her bold venture was at
least as praiseworthy as it was blameworthy in his eyes, and the grave
man was as cheerful as he commonly was only when among his flowers. Never
before had Melissa heard a word of compliment from his lips, but as
Agatha stood with one arm round Melissa's shoulders, he said to the
physician, as he pointed to the pair, "Like two roses on one stem!"

He had good reason, indeed, to be content. Diodoros was no worse, and
Galen was certainly expected to visit the sick in the Serapeum. He
regarded it, too, as a dispensation from Heaven that Agatha and Melissa
should have happened to meet, and Alexander's happy escape had taken a
weight from his mind. He willingly acceded to Melissa's request that he
would take her and Agatha to see the sick man; but he granted them only a
short time to gaze at the sleeper, and then requested the deaconess to
find a room for the two damsels, who needed rest.

The worthy woman rose at once; but Melissa urgently entreated to be
allowed to remain by her lover's side, and glanced anxiously at the keys
in the matron's hand.

At this Andreas whispered to her: "You are afraid lest I should prevent
your coming with us? But it is not so; and, indeed, of what use would it
be? You made your way past the guards to the senator's coach; you came
across the lake, and through the darkness and the drunken rabble in the
streets; if I were to lock you in, you would be brave enough to
jump out of