heat of noon, nor that of the soft sand in which his foot sank as he
followed the line of the sea-coast.

Thus passionately hurrying onwards he thought neither of Sirona nor of
his past life--only of the hills on the farther shore and of the
Blemmyes--how he should best surprise them, and, when he had learnt their
plans, how he might recross the sea and return to his own people. At
last, as he got more and more weary, as the heat of the sun grew more
oppressive, and as the blood rushed more painfully to his heart and began
to throb more rapidly in his temples, be lost all power of thought, and
that which dwelt in his mind was no more than a dumb longing to reach his
destination as soon as possible.

It was the third afternoon when he saw from afar the palms of Raithu, and
hurried on with revived strength. Before the sun had set he had informed
the anchorite, to whom Paulus had directed him, that the Alexandrian
declined their call, and was minded to remain on the Holy Mountain.

Then Hermas proceeded to the little harbor, to bargain with the fishermen
of the place for the boat which he needed While he was talking with an
old Amalekite boatman, who, with his black-eyed sons, was arranging his
nets, two riders came at a quick pace towards the bay in which a large
merchant-ship lay at anchor, surrounded by little barks. The fisherman
pointed to it.

"It is waiting for the caravan from Petra," he said. "There, on the
dromedary, is the emperor's great warrior who commands the Romans in
Pharan."

Hermas saw Phoebicius for the first time, and as he rode up towards him