had been continued, more for his friend's sake than for his own, ever since the departure of Alypius from Alexandria.

He was, therefore, resolved that the treachery of Muthis towards Sophis should not be allowed to succeed. He knew that Medora had been sent to Philæ, in order to remove her from all Christian influence, and place her in the very atmosphere of idolatry and fanaticism; and he knew that she was only to return to Alexandria to be united to Muthis. And, though he did not know that Alypius had returned to Egypt, and had gone to the sacred island in pursuit of the Egyptian maiden, he was yet determined to use all the means in his power to save Medora from the miserable fate that threatened her.

He therefore continued his apparently friendly intercourse with the deceitful Muthis, and encouraged his confidence; only awaiting the return of Sophis to expose to him the true character of his proposed son-in-law.

Meanwhile Sophis proceeded on his embassy; and on his arrival at the Eastern capital, was immediately honoured with an interview with the emperor.

To all his political remonstrances he met with a gracious hearing; and a prompt redress of all the grievances which were justly complained of by his Alexandrian subjects, was promised by Theodosius. But when Sophis attempted to gain a promise of the appointment when it should have become vacant, he was surprised to find that he had been forestalled, that unfavourable representations had been made respecting him, and that the post was destined for another.

Sophis was dismayed. He saw that it would be worse than

useless to urge his request any further; and he set out on his homeward journey greatly dejected and crestfallen.

The fatigue of the journey, to which he was little accustomed, joined to his disappointed feelings, were too much for the strength of Sophis. He was attacked by fever, and reached his home in a very depressed and enfeebled state.

If he had only had the disease to combat, it is probable that his strong constitution would, ere long, have overcome it. But immediately after his arrival at Alexandria, Julius waited on him, and communicated to him all the deceitful conduct and the cruel intentions of the man in whom he had placed entire confidence. The shock and the disappointment had a serious effect on the weakened frame of Sophis. He sent for the treacherous Muthis, and charged him with his ungenerous conduct, from which he vainly endeavoured to clear himself. He was dismissed from the presence of his former friend and benefactor, and warned never again to attempt to enter his dwelling.

Great would have been the joy and gratitude of Marcella at this unlooked-for termination of all her fears for her beloved child, had not her satisfaction been mingled with fears and anxieties for her husband. From the time of Sophis's interview with Muthis, he became decidedly worse and weaker; and soon he was confined to his bed, where he lay, sadly musing on the past, and with gloomy forebodings for the future.

Such was the state of affairs when Claudia and her companions reached Alexandria.

She and her sister went at once to her father's house, taking Cleon and Pyrrha with them, and also Calanthe; and

hoping that Sophis, might not yet have returned from Constantinople; but that they might find Marcella alone, and have time to confer with her on their future proceedings. Alypius was compelled to leave them before they came in sight of Sophis's dwelling; and sad was his heart as he parted with Medora, not knowing when, or under what circumstances, he might see her again. It would have comforted him if he had known all that she felt as she took leave of him. Her spirit was sorely tried by desponding fears, and she was almost tempted to despair. But she would not give way; and she mastered her emotion, to her own surprise and Claudia's admiration-possibly to the disappointment of Alypius. He turned away, and sought the abode of his friend Julius; while Indah and Yanina went to seek a lodging for themselves in a retired part of the city, with which the latter was well acquainted.

CHAPTER XXIX.

S Alypius approached the home of his friend, he met him; and great was the surprise and pleasure with which he was greeted by Julius.

Why, my friend!" he exclaimed, as he seized his hand, and held it with energy. "Have you indeed ventured back to Alexandria? I fear you are like the silly moths, that come fluttering round a flaming torch-your wings will surely be singed. I warn you," he continued, with mock gravity, "to fly the danger while yet there is time. The fair Medora is lovelier than ever; though-if I judge rightly from outward appearances she is less happy than when you knew her. She is absent at present: her fanatical old father sent her to Philæ, to prevent her mother from making a Christian of her, and to revive her love for the old-fashioned gods of Egypt-of whom, I fancy, she had begun to weary. I am delighted to see you, my dear Alypius; but I will be disinterested, and entreat you to leave Alexandria before the syren returns."

In spite of his cares and anxieties, Alypius could not help being amused at his friend's off-hand manner, and his brief epitome of Medora's recent feelings and proceedings-with all of which he was himself so much more accurately acquainted.

He smiled; and then, as he was about to reply, Julius

observed for the first time that his arm was in a sling, and also that his features were pale and somewhat wan.

“What is the meaning of all this, Alypius?” he inquired, with much concern. "Have you been engaged in the Italian wars, and got wounded, either for or against the last usurper?'

“The enemy that I have been fighting with was no European,” replied Alypius, laughing. "But the wounds which I got were deep, and they are still unhealed. I am very weary, Julius. Let us enter your lodging; and there you shall hear my story, and also tell me yours.”

We will leave them to their friendly converse, during which Alypius heard much that gave him the most profound satisfaction, and filled his heart with new and joyful hopes; and we will follow the sisters to their paternal home, and tell of the reception which they there met with.

Marcella greeted them with the most affectionate joy and thankfulness; and greatly were these feelings enhanced when her little grandson was presented to her, and she heard the story of his recovery from the Arabs. She also gave a kindly welcome to Calanthe, and begged her to continue her guest until she might wish to return to Tagaste.

But sorrow was the prevailing feeling in Marcella's heart. The state of Sophis filled her with alarm; she saw that his strength was gradually declining, and the thought of his leaving the world with no better hopes than those which Egyptian mythology could furnish, was anguish to her pious and believing soul.

Gently and earnestly had she endeavoured, since his illness