and her other companions to go on board the ship with her and seek
shelter in its safe, rain-proof cabin, for already heavy drops were
beginning to fall upon the tensely drawn awning.

"Nemesis!" exclaimed the grammateus.

"Nemesis!" whispered young Philotas to Daphne in a confidential murmur,
throwing his own costly purple cloak around her to shield her from the
rain. "Nowhere that we mortals overstep the bounds allotted to us do we
await her in vain."

Then bending down to her again, he added, by way of explanation: "The
winged daughter of Night would prove herself negligent if she allowed me
to enjoy wholly without drawback the overwhelming happiness of being with
you once more."

"Nemesis!" remarked Thoas, an aristocratic young hipparch of the guards
of the Diadochi, who had studied in Athens and belonged to the
Peripatetics there. "The master sees in the figure of this goddess the
indignation which the good fortune of the base or the unworthy use of
good fortune inspires in us. She keeps the happy mean between envy and
malicious satisfaction." The young soldier looked around him, expecting
applause, but no one was listening; the tempest was spreading terror
among most of the freedmen and slaves.

Philotas and Myrtilus were following Daphne and her companion Chrysilla
as they hurried into the tent. The deep, commanding tones of old
Philippus vainly shouted the name of Althea, whom, as he had bestowed his
hospitality upon her in Pelusium, he regarded as his charge, while at
intervals he reprimanded the black slaves who were to carry his wife to