waited a while for the darkness; then, with a new hope shining through
their fears, crept silently into the street, where the slave, a sturdy,
well-armed fellow, watched for them.

"To the quay," said Amram, and they walked forward, choosing those
thoroughfares that were most quiet. It was well for them that they did
this, for now it was known that Agrippa's sickness was mortal, the most
of the soldiers were already in a state of mutiny, and, inflamed with
wine, paraded the market-places and larger streets, shouting and singing
obscene songs, and breaking into the liquor shops and private houses,
where they drank healths to Charon, who was about to bear away their
king in his evil bark. As yet, however, they had not begun killing those
against whom they had a grudge. This happened afterwards, though it has
nothing to do with our story.

Without trouble or molestation the party reached the quay, where a
small boat with two Phœnician rowers was waiting for them. In it they
embarked, except the slave, and were rowed out to the anchorage to board
a large galley which lay half a mile or more away. This they did without
difficulty, for the night was calm, although the air hung thick and
heavy, and jagged clouds, wind-breeders as they were called, lay upon
the horizon. On the lower deck of the galley stood its captain, a
sour-faced man, to whom Amram introduced his passengers, who were, as he
declared, relatives of his own proceeding to Alexandria.

"Good," said the captain. "Show them to their cabin, for we sail as soon
as the wind rises."

To the cabin they went accordingly, a comfortable place stored with all
that they could need; but as they passed to it Nehushta heard a sailor,