In the mean time, Caesar, not knowing to what part of Egypt Pompey had fled, pressed on directly to Alexandria.  He exposed himself to great danger in so doing, for the forces under his command were not sufficient to protect him in case of his becoming involved in difficulties with the authorities there.  Nor could he, when once arrived on the Egyptian coast, easily go away again; for, at the season of the year in which these events occurred, there was a periodical wind which blew steadily toward that part of the coast, and, while it made it very easy for a fleet of ships to go to Alexandria, rendered it almost impossible for them to return.

Caesar was very little accustomed to shrink from danger in any of his enterprises and plans, though still he was usually prudent and circumspect.  In this instance, however, his ardent interest in the pursuit of Pompey overruled all considerations of personal safety.  He arrived at Alexandria, but he found that Pompey was not there.  He anchored his vessels in the port, landed his troops, and established himself in the city.  These two events, the assassination of one of the great Roman generals on the eastern extremity of the coast, and the arrival of the other, at the same moment, at Alexandria, on the western, burst suddenly upon Egypt together, like simultaneous claps of thunder.  The tidings struck the whole country with astonishment, and immediately engrossed universal attention.  At the camps both of Cleopatra and Ptolemy, at Pelusium, all was excitement and wonder.  Instead of thinking of a battle, both parties were wholly occupied in speculating on the results which were likely to accrue, to one side or to the other, under the totally new and unexpected aspect which public affairs had assumed.

Of course the thoughts of all were turned toward Alexandria.  Pothinus immediately proceeded to the city, taking with him the young king.  Achillas, too, either accompanied them, or followed soon afterward.  They carried with them the head of Pompey, which they had cut off on the shore where they had killed him, and also a seal which they took from his finger.  When they arrived at Alexandria, they sent the head, wrapped up in a cloth, and also the seal, as presents to Caesar.  Accustomed as they were to the brutal deeds and heartless cruelties of the Ptolemies, they supposed that Caesar would exult at the spectacle of the dissevered and ghastly head of his great rival and enemy.  Instead of this, he was shocked and displeased, and ordered the head to be buried with the most solemn and imposing funeral ceremonies.  He, however, accepted and kept the seal.  The device engraved upon it was a lion holding a sword in his paw—­a fit emblem of the characters of the men, who, though in many respects magnanimous and just, had filled the whole world with the terror of their quarrels.

The army of Ptolemy, while he himself and his immediate counselors went to Alexandria, was left at Pelusium, under the command of other officers, to watch Cleopatra.  Cleopatra herself would have been pleased, also, to repair to Alexandria and appeal to Caesar, if it had been in her power to do so; but she was beyond the confines of the country, with a powerful army of her enemies ready to intercept her on any attempt to enter or pass through it.  She remained, therefore, at Pelusium, uncertain what to do.