aching galley. Even as the general swam, Drusus observed
that he held up a package of papyri in his left hand to keep it out of
the wet; in uttermost perils Caesar could not forget his books. But
while the young man gazed seaward, shook the water from his eyes, and
struck out to reach the friendly galley, groans and shouts arose from
the waters near beside him. A voice--Agias's voice--was calling out
for help. The sound of his freedman's cries drove the Roman to action.
Twice the waves lifted him, and he saw nothing; but at the third time
he lit on two forms clinging to a bit of wreckage, and yet struggling
together. A few powerful strokes sent him beside them, and, to his
unutterable astonishment, he beheld in the person who was battling
with Agias for possession of the float none other than Pratinas. There
are times when nothing has opportunity to appear wonderful. This
moment was one of these. Actions, not words, were wanted. The elder
Greek had made shift to draw a dagger, and was making a vicious effort
to stab the other, who had gripped him round the neck with a tenacity
that would end only with life. One stroke of Drusus's fist as he
surged alongside the wreckage sent the dagger flying; and in a
twinkling he had borne Pratinas down and had him pinioned fast on the
planking of the rude raft. There was a great shout rising from the
enemy on the mole. A few darts spat in the water beside the fugitives;
but at the sight of the approaching galley the Alexandrians gave way,
for on her decks were swarming archers and slingers, and her powerful
ballistae were already working havoc. The pulsations of her banks of
oars grew slower as she swept up to the fugitives, the great column of
white spray curling around her prow sank, and while she drifted past
them a boat shot forth. In a minute Drusus was standing on her deck,
and the sailors were passing up Pratinas, still feebly resisting, and
Agias, who was weak and helpless with his wounds. On the poop Caesar
was conversing with a seaman of magnificent presence, who was in the
act of assuring the Imperator that his vessel and crew were at the
general's service.

III

The boats of the rescuer were pulling about, taking up such few Romans
as had been able to keep afloat; but Drusus was too exhausted to give
them further heed. He realized that the vessel he was aboard was no
member of the Roman squadron, that its crew were neither Caesarians nor
Alexandrians. Deft hands aided