him. Where two
parties quarreled both were right--or wrong--it really mattered little.
It is absurd to quarrel--still more foolish to fight. Caesar was a man of
peace, and to keep the peace he would appoint one of his generals
governor, and make Egypt a Roman colony. In the meantime he would rest a
week or two, with the kind permission of the Alexandrians, and work upon
his "Commentaries"--no, he would not see either Cleopatra or Ptolemy:
any information desired he would get through his trusted emissaries.

In the service of Cleopatra was a Sicilian slave who had been her
personal servant since she was a little girl. This man's name was
Appolidorus--a man of giant stature and imposing mien. Ten years before
his tongue had been torn out as a token that as he was to attend a queen
he should tell no secrets.

Appolidorus had but one thought in life, and that was to defend his
gracious queen. He slept at the door of Cleopatra's tent, a naked sword
at his side, held in his clenched and brawny hand.

And now behold at dusk of day the grim and silent Appolidorus, carrying
upon his giant shoulders a large and curious rug, rolled up and tied
'round at either end with ropes. He approaches the palace of the King,
and at the guarded gate hands a note to the officer in charge. This note
gives information to the effect that a certain patrician citizen of
Alexandria, being glad that the gracious Caesar had deigned to visit
Egypt, sends him the richest rug that can be woven, done, in fact, by
his wife and daughters and held against this day, awaiting Rome's
greatest son.

The officer reads the note, and orders a soldier to accept the gift and
carry it within--presents were constantly arriving. A sign from the dumb
giant makes the soldier stand back--the present is for Caesar and can be
delivered only in person. "Lead and I will follow," were the words done
in stern pantomime.

The officer laughs, sends the note inside, and the messenger soon
returning, signifies that the present is acceptable and the slave
bearing it shall be shown in. Appolidorus shifts the burden to the other
shoulder, and follows the soldier through the gate, up the marble steps,
along the splendid hallway lighted by flaring torches and lined with
reclining Roman soldiers.

At a door they pause an instant, there is a whispered word--they enter.

The room is furnished as becomes the room that is the private library of
the King of Egypt. In one corner, seated