I bowed and went; and, as I went, I heard Antony say: “Well, he may be a knave—for that all men are—but this for thy astrologer: he hath a royal air and the eye of a King—ay, and wit in it.”
Without the door I paused, not knowing what to do, for I was bewildered with misery. And, as I stood, someone touched me on the hand. I glanced up—it was Charmion, who in the confusion of the rising of the guests, had slipped away and followed me.
For in trouble Charmion was ever at my side.
“Follow me,” she whispered; “thou art in danger.”
I turned and followed her. Why should I not?
“Whither go we?” I asked at length.
“To my chamber,” she said. “Fear not; we ladies of Cleopatra’s Court have small good fame to lose; if anyone by chance should see us, they’ll think that it is a love-tryst, and such are all the fashion.”
I followed, and, presently, skirting the crowd, we came unseen to a little side entrance that led to a stair, up which we passed. The stair ended in a passage; we turned down it till we found a door on the left hand. Charmion entered silently, and I followed her into a dark chamber. Being in, she barred the door and, kindling tinder to a flame, lit a hanging lamp. As the light grew strong I gazed around. The chamber was not large, and had but one casement, closely shuttered. For the rest, it was simply furnished, having white walls, some chests for garments, an ancient chair, what I took to be a tiring table, on which were combs, perfumes, and all the frippery that pertains to woman, and a white bed with a broidered coverlid, over which was hung a gnat-gauze.
“Be seated, Harmachis,” she said, pointing to the chair. I took the chair, and Charmion, throwing back the gnat-gauze, sat herself upon the bed before me.
“Knowest thou what I heard Cleopatra say as thou didst leave the banqueting-hall?” she asked presently.