'So, then,' thought he, 'the storm of fate has broken and blown over--the evil which my lore predicted, threatening life itself, has chanced--and yet I live! It came as the stars foretold; and now the long, bright, and prosperous career which was to succeed that evil, if I survived it, smiles beyond: I have passed--I have subdued the latest danger of my destiny. Now I have but to lay out the gardens of my future fate--unterrified and secure. First, then, of all my pleasures, even before that of love, shall come revenge! This boy Greek--who has crossed my passion--thwarted my designs--baffled me even when the blade was about to drink his accursed blood--shall not a second time escape me! But for the method of my vengeance? Of that let me ponder well! Oh! Ate, if thou art indeed a goddess, fill me with thy direst Inspiration!' The Egyptian sank into an intent reverie, which did not seem to present to him any clear or satisfactory suggestions. He changed his position restlessly, as he revolved scheme after scheme, which no sooner occurred than it was dismissed: several times he struck his breast and groaned aloud, with the desire of vengeance, and a sense of his impotence to accomplish it. While thus absorbed, a boy slave timidly entered the chamber. A female, evidently of rank from her dress, and that of the single slave who attended her, waited below and sought an audience with Arbaces. 'A female!' his heart beat quick. 'Is she young?' 'Her face is concealed by her veil; but her form is slight, yet round, as that of youth.' 'Admit her,' said the Egyptian: for a moment his vain heart dreamed the stranger might be Ione. The first glance of the visitor now entering the apartment sufficed to undeceive so erring a fancy. True, she was about the same height as Ione, and perhaps the same age--true, she was finely and richly formed--but where was that undulating and ineffable grace which accompanied every motion of the peerless Neapolitan--the chaste and decorous garb, so simple even in the care of its arrangement--the dignified yet bashful step--the majesty of womanhood and its modesty? 'Pardon me that I rise with pain,' said Arbaces, gazing on the stranger: 'I am still suffering from recent illness.' 'Do not disturb thyself, O great Egyptian!' returned Julia, seeking to disguise the fear she already experienced beneath the ready resort of flattery; 'and forgive an unfortunate female, who seeks consolation from thy wisdom.' 'Draw near, fair stranger,' said Arbaces; 'and speak without apprehension or reserve.'