The news was true. Old Cotta, who was inspecting the canals and the navigation of the Nile, had many times expressed a desire to see the stylite and the new city, to which the name of Stylopolis had been given. The Stylopolitans saw the river covered with sails one morning. Cotta appeared on board a golden galley hung with purple, and followed by all his fleet. He landed, and advanced, accompanied by a secretary carrying his tablets, and Aristaeus, his physician, with whom he liked to converse. A numerous suite walked behind him, and the shore was covered with _laticlaves_(*) and military uniforms. He stopped, some paces from the column, and began to examine the stylite, wiping his face meanwhile with the skirt of his toga. Being of a naturally curious disposition, he had observed many things in the course of his long voyages. He liked to remember them, and intended to write, after he had finished his Punic history, a book on the remarkable things he had witnessed. He seemed much interested by the spectacle before him. (*) The _laticlave_ was a toga, with a broad purple band, worn by Roman senators as the distinguishing mark of their high office. “This is very curious!” he said, puffing and blowing. “And--which is a circumstance worthy of being recorded--this man was my guest. Yes, this monk supped with me last year, after which he carried off an actress.” Turning to his secretary-- “Note that, my son, on my tablets; also the dimensions of the column, not omitting the shape of the top of it.” Then, wiping his face again-- “Persons deserving of belief have assured me that this monk has not left his column for a single moment since he mounted it a year ago. Is that possible, Aristaeus?”