CHAPTER VII.
Melissa, too, had a sense of freedom when she found herself walking by the side of Andreas.
In the garden of Hermes, where her father's house stood, there were few signs of the excitement with which the citizens awaited Caesar's arrival.

Most of those who were out and about were going in the opposite direction; they meant to await the grand reception of Caracalla at the eastern end of the city, on his way from the Kanopic Gate to the Gate of the Sun.

Still, a good many--men, women and children--were, like themselves, walking westward, for it was known that Caesar would alight at the Serapeum.
They had scarcely left the house when Andreas asked the girl whether she had a kerchief or a veil in the basket the slave was carrying behind her; and on her replying in the affirmative, he expressed his satisfaction; for Caracalla's soldiery, in consequence of the sovereign's weakened discipline and reckless liberality, were little better than an unbridled rabble.
"Then let us keep out of their way," urged Melissa.
"Certainly, as much as possible," said her companion.

"At any rate, let us hurry, so as to get back to the lake before the crowd stops the way.
"You have passed an eventful and anxious night, my child, and are tired, no doubt." "Oh, no!" said she, calmly; "I had some wine to refresh me, and some food with the Christians." "Then they received you kindly ?" "The only woman there nursed Diodoros like a mother; and the men were considerate and careful.

My father does not know them; and yet--Well, you know how much he dislikes them." "He follows the multitude," returned Andreas, "the common herd, who hate everything exceptional, everything that disturbs their round of life, or startles them out of the quietude of their dull dreams.