"I will seek," he answered, "though, mayhap, I shall never find."

Thus they parted.

Presently the night breeze began to flow off the land, the great sail
was hoisted, and with the help of oars, worked by slaves, the ship
cleared the harbour and set her course for Joppa. Two hours later the
wind failed so that they could proceed only by rowing over a dead and
oily sea, beneath a sky that was full of heavy clouds. Lacking any stars
to steer by, the captain wished to cast anchor, but as the water proved
too deep they proceeded slowly, till about an hour before dawn a sudden
gust struck them which caused the galley to lean over.

"The north wind! The black north wind!" shouted the steersman, and the
sailors echoed his cry dismally, for they knew the terrors of that wind
upon the Syrian coast. Then the gale began to rage. By daylight the
waves were running high as mountains and the wind hissed through the
rigging, driving them forward beneath a small sail. Nehushta crawled out
of the cabin, and, in the light of an angry dawn, saw far away the white
walls of a city built near the shore.

"Is not that Appolonia?" she asked of the captain.

"Yes," he answered, "it is Appolonia sure enough, but we shall not
anchor there this voyage. Now it is Alexandria for us or nothing."

So they rushed past Appolonia and forward, climbing the slopes of the
rising seas.