r be easily
stopped and taken, or crushed with darts as we pass by. You see they
are already signalling from the upper bridge to their guard at the
lower. We shall drift down into their hands, and gain nothing by our
first escape."

"Anchor," suggested Cassius, who was an impulsive and rather
inconsiderate man. And he prepared to pitch overboard the heavy
mooring-stone.

"_Phui!_ You sheep," cried Curio, contemptuously, mincing no words at
that dread moment. "How long will it be before there will be ten
boatloads of soldiers alongside? Can we beat off all Pompeius's
legions?"

Antonius caught up another paddle and passed it through a rower's
thong.

"Friends," he said, with that ready command which his military life
had given him, "these soldiers are in armour and can run none too
swiftly. Once show them the back, and they must throw away their arms
or give over the chase. It is madness to drift down upon the lower
bridge. We must turn across the river, risk the darts, and try to land
on the farther bank. Take oars!"

There was but one remaining paddle. Drusus seized it and pushed
against the water with so much force that the tough wood bent and
creaked, but did not snap. The unwieldy barge sluggishly answered this
powerful pressure, and under the stroke of the three oars began to
head diagonally across the current and move slowly toward the farther
shore. The soldiers did not at once perceive the intent of this move.
By their actions they showed that they had expected the barge to try
to slip through the Pons Sublicius, and so escape down the river. They
had run some little way along the south bank of the Tiber, to
reenforce their comrades at the lower bridge, when they saw the new
course taken by their expected prey. Much valuable time had thus been
gained by the pursued, time which they needed sadly enough, for,
despite their frantic rowing, their unwieldy craft would barely crawl
across the current.

Long before the barge was within landing distance of the northern
bank, the soldiers who had been on guard at the head of the Pons
AEmilius had regained their former station, and were running along the
shore to cut off any attempt there to escape. Soon a whizzing javelin
dug into the plank at Drusus's feet, and a second rushed over Caelius's
head, and plashed into the water beyond the barge. Other soldiers on
the now receding southern bank were piling into a light skiff to
second their comrades' efforts by a d