The last words came like a stern order, and Philostratus seemed to have some hopes of the emperor’s clemency, for his love’s sake, and the philosopher’s own eloquence. The moment Melissa ceased, he seized her hand and cried, eagerly: “I will try it; and, if he grant your request, you remain?” “Yes,” answered the maiden, firmly. “Pray Caesar to have mercy, soften his heart as much as you are able. I expect an answer before going to the Circus.” She hurried back into the sleeping-room without regarding Philostratus’s answer. Once there, she threw herself upon her knees and prayed, now to the manes of her mother, now--it was for the first time--to the crucified Saviour of the Christians, who had taken upon himself a painful death to bring happiness to others. First she prayed for strength to keep her vow, come what might; and then she prayed for Diodoros, that he might not be made wretched if she found herself compelled to break her troth with him. Her father and brothers, too, were not forgotten, as she commended their lives to a higher power. When Euryale looked into the room, she found Melissa still upon her knees, her young frame shaken as with fever. So she withdrew softly, and in the Temple of Serapis, where her husband served as high-priest, she prayed to Jesus Christ that he who suffered little children to come unto him would lead this wandering lamb into the right path. CHAPTER XXVI The lady Euryale’s silent prayer was interrupted by the return of Alexander. He brought the clothes which Seleukus’s wife had given him for Melissa. He was already dressed in his best, and crowned like all those who occupied the first seats in the Circus; but his festal garb accorded ill with the pained look on his features, from which every trace had vanished of the overflowing joy in life which had embellished them only this morning. He had seen and heard things which made him feel that it would no longer be a sacrifice to give his life to save his sister. Sad thoughts had flitted across his cheerful spirit like dark bats, even while he was talking with Melissa and her protectress, for he knew well how infinitely hard his father would find it to have to quit Alexandria; and if he himself fled with Melissa he would be obliged to give up the winning of fair Agatha. The girl’s Christian father had indeed received him kindly, but had given him to understand plainly enough that he would never allow a professed heathen to sue for his daughter’s hand. Besides this, he had met with other humiliations which placed themselves like a wall between him and his beloved, the only child of a rich and respected man. He had forfeited the right of appearing before Zeus as a suitor; for indeed he was no longer such as he had been only yesterday.