An answer was given to their inquiry; but still they were neither recognized by the party, nor was any question asked in return.  Just as they were separating from each other, “Assuredly,” says Archias, “this must be a party sent out for our relief, for on what other account can they be wandering about the desert?  There is nothing strange in their passing us without notice, for our very appearance is a disguise.  Let us address them once more, and inform them who we are, and learn from them on what service they are at present employed.”  Nearchus approved of this advice, and approaching them again, inquired which way they were directing their course.  “We are in search of Nearchus and his people,” replied the officer:  “And I am Nearchus,” said the admiral; “and this is Archias.  Take us under your conduct, and we will ourselves report our history to the king.”  They were accordingly placed in the carriages, and conducted towards the army without delay.  While they were upon their progress, some of the horsemen, impatient to carry the news of this happy event, set off to the camp to inform the king, that Nearchus and Archias were arrived with five or six of his people; but of the rest they had no intelligence.  This suggested to Alexander that perhaps these only were preserved, and that the rest of the people had perished, either by famine or shipwreck; nor did he feel so much pleasure in the preservation of the few, as distress for the loss of the remainder.  During this interval, Nearchus and his attendants arrived.  It was not without difficulty that the king discovered who they were, under the disguise of their appearance; and this circumstance contributed to confirm him in his mistake, imagining that both their persons and their dress bespoke ship wreck, and the destruction of the fleet.  He held out his hand, however, to Nearchus, and led him aside from his guards and attendants without being able to utter a word.  As soon as they were alone, he burst into tears, and continued weeping for a considerable time; till, at length recovering in some degree his composure,—­“Nearchus,” says he, “I feel some satisfaction in finding that you and Archias have escaped; but tell me where and in what manner did my fleet and my people perish?” “Your fleet,” replied Nearchus, “are all safe,—­your people are safe; and we are come to bring you the account of their preservation.”  Tears, but from a different source, now fell much faster from his eyes.  “Where then are my ships?” says he.  “At the Anamis,” replied Nearchus; “all safe on shore, and preparing for the completion of their voyage.”  “By the Lybian Ammon and Jupiter of Greece, I swear to you,” rejoined the king, “I am more happy at receiving this intelligence, than in being conqueror of all Asia; for I should have considered the loss of my fleet and the failure of this expedition, as a counterbalance to all the glory I have acquired.”  Such was the reception of the admiral; while the governor, who was the first bearer of the glad tidings, was still in bonds:  upon the sight of Nearchus, he fell at his feet, and implored his intercession.  It may be well imagined that his pardon was as readily granted as it was asked.—­(Vincent’s Nearchus, p. 312.)