sus, who climbed upon the table, and, in the view of all, solemnly replaced it, making Messala master of the night.
"There came with me into the room," he said, "some friends just risen from table. That our feast may have the approval of sacred custom, bring hither that one of them most overcome by wine."
A din of voices answered, "Here he is, here he is!"
And from the floor where he had fallen, a youth was brought forward, so effeminately beautiful he might have passed for the drinking-god himself—only the crown would have dropped from his head, and the thyrsus from his hand.
"Lift him upon the table," the master said.
It was found he could not sit.
"Help him, Drusus, as the fair Nyone may yet help thee."
Drusus took the inebriate in his arms.
Then addressing the limp figure, Messala said, amidst profound silence, "O Bacchus! greatest of the gods, be thou propitious to-night. And for myself, and these thy votaries, I vow this chaplet"—and from his head he raised it reverently—"I vow this chaplet to thy altar in the Grove of Daphne."
He bowed, replaced the crown upon his locks, then stooped and uncovered the dice, saying, with a laugh, "See, my Drusus, by the ass of Silenus, the denarius is mine!"
There was a shout that set the floor to quaking, and the grim Atlantes to dancing, and the orgies began.
CHAPTER XIII.
Sheik Ilderim was a man of too much importance to go about with a small establishment. He had a reputation to keep with his tribe, such as became a prince and patriarch of the greatest following in all the Desert east of Syria; with the people of the cities he had another reputation, which was that of one of the richest personages not a king in all the East; and, being rich in fact—in money as well
