“He is in a position to laugh at me—­as a man—­but I therefore—­as a man —­have the right, and—­as a king—­have the power, to make sure that that laugh shall be his last.  If I could murder Rome as I can him how glad should I be! for Rome alone hinders me from being the greatest of all the great kings of our time; and yet I shall rejoice to-morrow when they tell me Publius Cornelius Scipio has been torn by wild beasts, and his body is so mutilated that his own mother could not recognize it more than if a messenger were to bring me the news that Carthage had broken the power of Rome.”

Euergetes had spoken the last words in a voice that sounded like the roll of thunder as it growls in a rapidly approaching storm, louder, deeper, and more furious each instant.  When at last he was silent Eulaeus said:  “The immortals, my lord, will not deny you this happiness.  The brave fellows whom you condescended to see and to talk to strike as certainly as the bolt of our father Zeus, and as we have learned from the Roman’s horse-keeper where he has hidden Irene, she will no more elude your grasp than the crowns of Upper and Lower Egypt.—­Now, allow me to put on your mantle, and then to call the body-guard that they may escort you as you return to your residence.”

“One thing more,” cried the king, detaining Eulaeus.  “There are always troops by the Tombs of Apis placed there to guard the sacred places; may not they prove a hindrance to your friends?”

“I have withdrawn all the soldiers and armed guards to Memphis down to the last man,” replied Eulaeus, and quartered them within the White Wall.  Early tomorrow, before you proceed to business, they will be replaced by a stronger division, so that they may not prove a reinforcement to your brother’s troops here if things come to fighting.”

“I shall know how to reward your foresight,” said Euergetes as Eulaeus quitted the room.

Again Klea heard a door open, and the sound of many hoofs on the pavement of the court-yard, and when she went, all trembling, up to the window, she saw Euergetes himself, and the powerfully knit horse that was led in for him.  The tyrant twisted his hand in the mane of the restless and pawing steed, and Klea thought that the monstrous mass could never mount on to the horse’s back without the aid of many men; but she was mistaken, for with a mighty spring the giant flung himself high in the air and on to the horse, and then, guiding his panting steed by the pressure of his knees alone, he bounded out of the prison-yard surrounded by his splendid train.

For some minutes the court-yard remained empty, then a man hurriedly crossed it, unlocked the door of the room where Klea was, and informed her that he was a subaltern under Glaucus, and had brought her a message from him.