He turned pale, and his heart throbbed painfully as he watched the development of the catastrophe for which he had himself prepared the way.
But, once more, the unexpected upset the philosopher's anticipations.
Caracalla gazed at the girl in amazement, utterly discomposed, as though some miracle had happened, or a ghost had started from the ground before him.

Springing up, while he clutched the back of his chair, he exclaimed: "What is this?
Do my senses deceive me, or is it some base trickery?
No, no! My eyes and my memory are good.

This girl--" "What ails thee, Caesar ?" Philostratus broke in, with increasing anxiety.
"Something--something which will silence your foolish doubts--" Caesar panted out.

"Patience--wait.

Only a minute, and you shall see .-- But, first"-- and he turned to Melissa--"what is your name, girl ?" "Melissa," she replied, in a low and tremulous voice.
"And your father's and your mother's ?" "Heron is my father's name, and my mother--she is dead--was called Olympias, the daughter of Philip." "And you are of Macedonian race ?" "Yes, my lord.