ers, for that Melissa would for the present
find shelter under her roof.

When the Gaul had departed, she desired her waiting-woman, Johanna, to
fetch her brother. During her absence the lady explained to Melissa that
they both were Christians. They were freeborn, the children of a freedman
of Berenike's house. Johannes had at an early age shown so much
intelligence that they had acceded to his wish to be educated as a
lawyer. He was now one of the most successful pleaders in the city; but
he always used his eloquence, which he had perfected not only at
Alexandria but also at Carthage, by preference in the service of accused
Christians. In his leisure hours he would visit the condemned in prison,
speak comfort to them, and give them presents out of the fine profits he
derived from his business among the wealthy. He was the very man to go
and see her father and brothers; he would revive their spirits, and carry
them her greeting.

When, presently, the Christian arrived he expressed himself as very ready
to undertake this commission. His sister was already busied in packing
wine and other comforts for the captives-more, no doubt, as Johannes told
Berenike, than the three men could possibly consume, even if their
imprisonment should be a long one. His smile showed how confidently he
counted on the lady's liberality, and Melissa quickly put her faith in
the young Christian, who would have reminded her of her brother Philip,
but that his slight figure was more upright, and his long hair quite
smooth, without a wave or curl. His eyes, above all, were unlike
Philip's; for they looked out on the world with a gaze as mild as
Philip's were keen and inquiring.

Melissa gave him many messages for her father and brothers, and when the
lady Berenike begged him to take care that the portrait of her daughter
was safely carried to the Serapeum, where it was to contribute to mollify
Caesar in the painter's favor, he praised her determination, and modestly
added: "For how long may we call our own any of these perishable joys? A
day, perhaps a year, at most a lustrum. But eternity is long, and those
who, for its sake, forget time and set all their hopes on eternity--which
is indeed time to the soul--soon cease to bewail the loss of any
transitory treasure, were it the noblest and dearest. Oh, would that I
could lead you to place your hopes on eternity, best of women and most
true-hearted mother! Eternity, which not the wisest brain can c