He passed through the
Gate of the Sun, and by discreet inquiries discovered which ship the
Christians were on. Then he hid himself near one of the docks, and
watched the ship.
Two days! One of the days partly gone already! Timokles would go
away never to return, surely, this time.
"I also am a Christian!" cried Heraklas aloud.
Only the swaying of the water against the dock answered him. He
sprang up and walked out on the dyke that stretched toward the isle
of Pharos. Opposite him, the ship showed still more plainly than
from the docks. Heraklas made out the prayer inscribed on the
vessel: "Do thou, O Isis, preserve in safety this ship over the blue
waves"
"O Timokles! Timokles!" cried Heraklas, as he stretched his hands
toward the ship.
Heraklas walked the dyke till the burning sun of noon forced him to
find shelter. He went back to his hiding place at the docks. He
watched and waited through the long hours.
At length the day departed. When the darkness covered the surface of
the harbor, Heraklas rose and girt about him the ample dress he
wore, of fine linen, that descended to his feet.
He slipped softly into the water, and swam toward the ship. Reaching
the small boat that floated by the ship, Heraklas drew himself up
into the little craft.
He listened to the lap of water on the side of the ship. A sudden
joy shot through Heraklas that they were so near together, Timokles
and, himself.
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