Cape Dire! The sea was reached; and there rose the obelisks, the shafts, the pillars of Sesostris, whose sacred writings immortalized the remembrance of the passage of the Egyptian world-ruler who for nine years had linked conquest to conquest, even to Arabia, even to Bactriana, even to India. And Caleb approached Lucius with a smile and said:

“Most noble lord, I wished to keep it for you as a surprise and would not tell you before, but this little diversorium at Cape Dire, overlooking my beloved native land, belongs to us, to Ghizla and me, and is a small branch of our great Hermes House at Alexandria; and to-night you need no longer sleep in a tent, but will have a worthy apartment and sleep on a soft couch of skins. For, though you are still without your own furniture and your sumptuous utensils and treasures of art and though this little guest-house is not to be compared with our big diversorium, it is nevertheless comfortable and clean and it has bathrooms and kitchens and we built it here for the accommodation of any noble lords who travel from Alexandria to the pillars of Sesostris or from the pillars of Sesostris to Alexandria.”

And Caleb, swaggering gaily and elegantly on the tips of his red boots, led the travellers into his guest-house; and Lucius, for the first time for weeks, bathed not in a rustling stream but in a bathroom, where his slaves rubbed and kneaded his body.

Caleb stood on the cape, with his hand above his eyes, and looked out in astonishment. He was surprised that the quadrireme, with Uncle Catullus on board, had not arrived from the Gulf of Acathantus, nay, was not even in sight. Could there have been an accident? He told his fears to no one but Thrasyllus; and the two stood looking long on the point of Cape Dire, gazing into the distance, each with his hand above his eyes.

But at last, when night began to fall, the great, graceful sea-monster appeared on the horizon, with her prow erect like a swan’s neck and her hundreds of slender legs moving in unison; and the rose-yellow sails bellied in the breeze; and the silver statue of Aphrodite shot forth its silver spark of light; and the rowers’ long, melancholy chant, the soft, monotonous accompaniment of tiring work, was borne long and wistfully over the sea, together with the cheerful song of the sailors. And the travellers, who now all stood on the cape waiting for the ship, saw the figures of Uncle Catullus, of the stewards Vettius and Rufus, of the master and the steersman.

And they waved again and again; and Cora, with her harp pressed to her bosom, sang the song of welcome to the ship; and her voice sounded jubilant and clear, full of happiness and full of gladness. The ropes were flung ashore, the ship lay moored....

But what was the anxiety that covered the faces of all on board, who were now preparing to walk across the gangway to the jetty? Why did Uncle Catullus lift his hands on high and shake his head, pinned round so comically in his travelling-veil? And what was it that Vettius and Rufus were saying to each other with much gesticulation and why did they now all land with such embarrassed faces?

“Well, Lucius,” said Uncle Catullus, embracing him, “you’re looking splendid, my dear fellow, splendid, brown and bronzed as a Nimrod; and your arms feel hard and your eyes are bright and your mouth is laughing happily and you look very different from what you were when we left BaiÆ.... Ah, my dear, dear Lucius! Fortune is blind and fate is a riddle and we poor mortals are the playthings of the cruel gods; and we never know, in the midst of our delight and gladness, what is hanging over our heads ... especially when travelling, dear boy: my dear boy, especially when travelling!”

“But why especially when travelling, my dear uncle?” asked Lucius, laughing.

And he led his uncle into the diversorium; and his uncle was now weeping; and his slaves unpinned his travelling-veil for him and relieved him of his travelling-cloak; and Vettius and Rufus also looked so strange and so gloomy and solemn; and it was as though the air were filled with dread.

“But, Uncle Catullus,” said Lucius, “what has happened?”

“My dear, dear boy,” Uncle Catullus kept on tediously repeating, “I ... I really can not tell you.”

And he wrung his hands and wept; and Thrasyllus turned pale and Cora turned pale and Rufus looked gloomy.

“No,” repeated Uncle Catullus, “I really can not tell Lucius. You tell him, Vettius, you tell him.”

“My Lord Catullus,” said Vettius, at last, in despair, “how can I tell my Lord Lucius? If I do, he will fly into a passion and kill me; but, perhaps, if Rufus will tell him ...”

“I will not, I will not,” said Rufus, warding off the suggestion with both hands. “By all the gods, Vettius, I will not tell him.”

“Nor will I,” said Uncle Catullus, moaning and weeping.

Lucius now knitted his brows and said:

“But I must know, Vettius. I order you to tell me what has happened—for something has happened—I order you to tell me and I swear not to kill you.... Has it to do with the quadrireme, a mutiny among the rowers?”

“Worse than that, my lord!” wailed Vettius.

“Has there been a theft of our baggage or jewels or plate?”

“Worse, my lord, much worse!”

“Has there been a fire at our insula in Rome? Is the villa burned down?”

“Worse, worse, my lord!” Vettius and Rufus now cried in chorus.

And they flung themselves at Lucius’ feet and embraced his knees; and Uncle Catullus fell sobbing on Thrasyllus’ breast.

“But what is it? By all the gods, speak up!” cried Lucius, in a fury. “What is it? Speak up, or I will have you whipped till you do!”

“We will tell you, my lord!” Vettius and Rufus now cried.

And Uncle Catullus cried:

“Yes, tell him, tell him; after all, he must be told.”

“Are we alone, my lord?” whined Vettius. “Are there no slaves listening at the doors and is Caleb out of hearing?”

Cora opened the doors and peeped out:

“There is no one there,” she said. “I will withdraw, my lord.”

“No, stay,” commanded Lucius.

She stayed.

“Speak up,” Lucius commanded Vettius, lifting him up.

“My lord,” said Vettius, again falling at Lucius’ feet, “if I must tell you, let me do so on my knees. For I have not the strength left to tell you, my lord, if I stand face to face with your anger.”

“Speak!” roared Lucius, in a voice of thunder.

“My lord,” said Vettius, at last, clasping Lucius’ knees in his hands and kissing them continually, “my lord, our gracious emperor, Augustus Tiberius, is wroth with you, we know not for what reason, and....”

“Well?” shouted Lucius.

“And he has confiscated all your possessions, O my lord, everything that you possess: all your insula in Rome, your villa, your estates and domains, your horses and chariots and cattle, your slaves and treasures of art, your library and your jewels ... and has attached all the sums which you had lodged with your bankers and money-changers in various towns! You are penniless, my lord, for you own nothing except what your ship contains; and, if I had not succeeded in keeping Tiberius’ displeasure secret by means of a precipitate flight and by continuing to drift about in the Great Sea and the Arabian Gulf, your quadrireme also would have been seized at Alexandria and you would now have been without your ship, without your rowers, without your slaves, without a single penny. By bribing the authorities at Pelusium with the money that remained in my hands, I managed secretly to pass through the Nechao Canal to Arsinoe; and at Berenice we met your Uncle Catullus and informed him of the terrible news. My lord, do not slay me and do not be wroth with me, for I have saved for you what I could!”

And Vettius writhed at Lucius’ feet and sobbed; and they all sobbed: Uncle Catullus, Thrasyllus, Rufus and Cora....

And Caleb, who had been listening at the door, turned very pale.

For there was still a long, long, long papyrus scroll of a bill awaiting payment, for the big hunts in the Ethiopian forests!