"Where is she?" Phradates demanded abruptly.
"If your Highness will deign to follow, I will conduct you to her," Mena replied with alacrity.
"Lead on!" Phradates commanded. "And then fetch quickly the gold we borrowed from the old Athenian."
Chares had purchased all the prisoners on his list excepting the girl called Maia, and the soldiers were leading her forward when Mena and Phradates arrived. The young woman's face and head were muffled in a silken scarf, and her figure was concealed beneath a cloak.
"Give place!" cried Mena, bustling officiously into the crowd. "Make way for the noble Phradates!"
One of the soldiers raised the scarf long enough for the Phœnician to see the young woman's face. Her beauty evidently made a deep impression upon him, for his expression changed and he seemed hardly able to take his eyes from her.
"Where is this Chares?" he inquired, at last, staring about him.
Mena indicated the Theban with a nod, and then, noticing that all eyes were turned upon his master, he bawled out: "Make room for Phradates of the royal blood of Tyre!"
"Do you want to sell him?" asked the auctioneer.
The Phœnician's face became purple and he turned angrily upon Mena, but the alert Egyptian had slipped away to fetch the gold.