“Only turn that milksop’s head, make him so madly and desperately in love with you that he does not know which way to turn for delicious torment. You can do it I know, and if you do--well, I make no promises; but on the day when all Alexandria is talking of that woman’s son as wandering out, night after night, to watch under the window of the fair Dada, the heathen singer--when he drives you out in the face of day and in his own chariot, down the Canopic Way and past his mother’s door--then child, ask, claim whatever you will, and old Damia will not refuse it.” Then raising her head she added to the others: “In the afternoon, my friends, you can take possession of your new quarters. Go with them, Dada. By-and-bye we will find you a pretty room in the tower. Come and see me very often, sweet one, and tell me all your prettiest tales. When I am not too busy I shall always be glad to see you, for you and I have a secret you know.” The girl stood up, looking uneasily at the old woman; Damia nodded knowingly, as much as to say that they quite understood each other and again offered her hand to Dada; but Dada could not kiss it; she turned and followed the others more gravely than usual. Gorgo guessed what the old lady would be at with Dada; as soon as the party of singers had taken leave she went up to her grandmother and said reproachfully: “That little fair thing will find no difficulty in making a fool of Marcus; for my part I hardly know him, but why should he pay for his mother’s sins against you? How can he help...” “He cannot help it,” interrupted Damia with decisive abruptness. “He can do nothing to save his mother, any more than you can help being a child of twenty and bound to hold your tongue till your opinion is asked.” ........................... The family of musicians had all met on board the barge which was lying at anchor in the lake, off the ship-yard. Orpheus had just been an eye-witness of the disturbance which prevailed throughout the city, and the wild howls and cries that were audible in the distance confirmed his report; but the waters of the lake were an unruffled mirror of blue, the slaves in the ship-yard were at work as usual, and the cooing turtle-doves flew from palm to palm. No signs of troubled times were to be seen in the floating home of the wanderers. The steward had provided for everything. There were rooms and beds to spare in the vessel; the large deck-cabin was a comfortable sitting-room, and from the little galley at the prow came a savory smell of cooking and a cheerful clang of pots and pans.