Demetrius whispered a few words of enthusiastic praise of the little singer into Gorgo's ear; then the carriage moved on again.

Many of the heathen who had collected round it recognized Porphyrius, the noble friend of the great Olympius, and cleared a passage for him, so that at last he got out of the gate uninjured, and turned into the quieter street of Euergetes which led to the temple of Isis, the ship-yard and the merchant's residence.
But few words were exchanged in the chariot, for it was only step by step and with considerable difficulty that the horses could get along.
It was now quite dark and the mob had spread even into this usually deserted quarter.
A flaring glow that tinged the temple, the wharf and the deep sky itself with a gorgeous crimson glare, showed very plainly what the populace were employed in doing.

The monks had set fire to the temple of Isis and the flames had been driven by the northwest wind down into the ship-yard, where they had found ample food in the enormous timber stacks and the skeletons of ships.

Tall jets of rushing and crackling sparks were thrown skywards to mingle with the paler stars.

Porphyrius could see what danger his house was in; but thanks to the old steward's foresight and the indefatigable diligence of the slaves, it escaped the conflagration.
The two brothers, meanwhile, had left the mob far behind them.