Melissa then bade him a grateful farewell; but as she was approaching the doorway he called again after her, and asked her with an altered voice, shortly and sternly:
“You will agree with your father if he abuses me?”
“What an idea!” she answered, energetically. “He knows who robbed him of his liberty, and from me shall he learn who has restored it to him.”
“Good!” murmured the emperor. “Yet remember this also: I need your assistance and that of your brother’s, the painter. If your father attempts to alienate you—”
Here he suddenly let fall his arm, which he had raised threateningly, and continued in a confidential whisper: “But how can I ever show you anything but kindness? Is it not so? You already feel the secret tie—You know? Am I mistaken when I fancy that it grieves you to be separated from me?”
“Certainly not,” she replied, gently, and bowed her head.
“Then go,” he continued, kindly. “The day will come yet when you will feel that I am as necessary to your soul as you are to mine. But you do not yet know how impatient I can be. I must be able to think of you with pleasure—always with pleasure—always.”
Thereupon he nodded to her, and his eyelids remained for some time in spasmodic movement. Philostratus was prepared to accompany the young girl, but Caracalla prevented him by calling:
“Lead me to my bath. If it does me good, as I trust it will, I have many things to talk over with you.”
Melissa did not hear the last words. Gladly and quickly she hurried through the empty, dimly lighted rooms, and found Alexander in a sitting position, half asleep and half awake, with closed eyes. Then she drew near to him on tiptoe, and, as his nodding head fell on his breast, she laughed and woke him with a kiss.