“The King undoubtedly sent by his father the laurel wreath on his helmet,” observed Bias, pointing to the admiral.  “So many honours while he is still so young!  When you went to the wrestling school in Alexandria, Eumedes was scarcely eight years older than you, and I remember how he preferred you to the others.  A sign, and he will notice us and allow you to go on his ship, or, at any rate, send us a boat in which we can enter the canal.”

“No, no,” replied Hermon.  “My call would disturb him now.”

“Then let us make ourselves known to the Lady Thyone or her husband,” the freedman continued.  “They will certainly take us on their large state galley, from which, though your eyes do not yet see as far as a falcon’s, not a ship, not a man, not a movement will escape them.”

But Hermon added one more surprise to the many which he had already given, for he kindly declined Bias’s well-meant counsel, and, resting his hand on the Amalekite boy’s shoulder, said modestly:  “I am no longer the Hermon whom Eumedes preferred to the others.  And the Lady Thyone must not be reminded of anything sad in this festal hour for the mother’s heart.  I shall meet her to-morrow, or the day after, and yet I had intended to let no one who is loyal to me look into my healing eyes before Daphne.”

Then he felt the freedman’s hand secretly press his, and it comforted him, after the sorrowful thoughts to which he had yielded, amid the shouts of joy ringing around him.  How quietly, with what calm dignity, Eumedes received the well-merited homage, and how disgracefully the false fame had bewildered his own senses!

Yet he had not passed through the purifying fire of misfortune in vain!  The past should not cloud the glad anticipation of brighter days!

Drawing a long breath, he straightened himself into a more erect posture, and ordered the men to push the boat from the shore.  Then he pressed a farewell kiss on the Amalekite boy’s forehead, the lad sprang ashore, and the journey northward began.

At first the sailors feared that the crowd would be too great, and the boat would be refused admission to the canal; but the helmsman succeeded in keeping close behind a vessel of medium size, and the Macedonian guards of the channel put no obstacle in their countryman’s way, while boats occupied by Egyptians and other barbarians were kept back.

In the Bitter Lakes, whose entire length was to be traversed, the ships had more room, and after a long voyage through dazzling sunlight, and along desolate shores, the boat anchored at nightfall at Heroopolis.

Hermon and Bias obtained shelter on one of the ships which the sovereign had placed at the disposal of the Greeks who came to participate in the festivals to be celebrated.

Before his master went to rest, the freedman—­whom he had sent out to look for a vessel bound to Pelusium and Alexandria the next day or the following one—­returned to the ship.