boat, he slipped off among the hills to watch the movements of the
Blemmyes. The very first day he went up to the valley in which they were
gathering; on the second, after being many times seen and pursued, he
succeeded in seizing a warrior who had been sent out to reconnoitre, and
in carrying him off with him; he bound him, and by heavy threats learned
many things from him.

The number of their collected enemies was great, but Hermas had hopes of
outstripping them, for his prisoner revealed to him the spot where their
boats, drawn up on shore, lay hidden under sand and stones.

As soon as it was dusk, the anchorite in his boat went towards the place
of embarkation, and when the Blemmyes, in the darkness of midnight, drew
their first bark into the water, Hermas sailed off ahead of the enemy,
landed in much danger below the western declivity of the mountain, and
hastened up towards Sinai to warn the Pharanite watchmen on the beacon.

He gained the top of the difficult peak before sunrise, roused the lazy
sentinels who had left their posts, and before they were able to mount
guard, to hoist the flags or to begin to sound the brazen cymbals, he had
hurried on down the valley to his father's cave.

Since his disappearance Miriam had incessantly hovered round Stephanus'
dwelling, and had fetched fresh water for the old man every morning, noon
and evening, even after a new nurse, who was clumsier and more peevish,
had taken Paulus' place. She lived on roots, and on the bread the sick
man gave her, and at night she lay down to sleep in a deep dry cleft of
the rock that she had long known well. She quitted her hard bed before
daybreak to refill the old man's pitcher, and to chatter to him about
Hermas.