‘May Athene befriend you this day, Hypatia!’ said Pelagia with her sweetest smile. ‘I have brought my guards to hear somewhat of your wisdom this afternoon. I am anxious to know whether you can teach Ahem anything more worth listening to than the foolish little songs which Aphrodite taught me, when she raised me from the sea-foam, as she rose herself, and named me Pelagia.’
Hypatia drew herself up to her stateliest height, and returned no answer.
‘I think my bodyguard will well hear comparison with yours. At least they are the princes and descendants of deities. So it is but fitting that they should enter before your provincials. Will you show them the way?’
No answer.
‘Then I must do it myself. Come, Amal!’ and she swept up the steps, followed by the Goths, who put the Alexandrians aside right and left, as if they had been children.
‘Ah! treacherous wanton that you are!’ cried a young man’s voice out of the murmuring crowd. ‘After having plundered us of every coin out of which you could dupe us, here you are squandering our patrimonies on barbarians!’
‘Give us back our presents, Pelagia,’ cried another, ‘and you are welcome to your herd of wild bulls!’
‘And I will!’ cried she, stopping suddenly; and clutching at her chains and bracelets, she was on the point of dashing them among the astonished crowd—
‘There! take your gifts! Pelagia and her girls scorn to be debtors to boys, while they are worshipped by men like these!’
But the Amal, who, luckily for the students, had not understood a word of this conversation, seized her arm, asking if she were mad.