not deceived him, and the harbour chain was drawn aside for the
Epicurus. With swelling sails, urged by the strong wind blowing from the
southeast, its keel cut the rolling waves.

Soon a faint, tremulous light appeared in the north. It must be a ship;
and though the helmsman in the tavern at Pharos, who looked as though
he had not always steered peaceful trading-vessels, had spoken of some
which did not let the ships they caught pass unscathed, the men on the
well-equipped, stately Epicurus did not fear pirates, especially as
morning was close at hand, and it had just shot by two clumsy men-of-war
which had been sent out by the Regent.

The strong wind filled every sail, rowing would have been useless
labour, and the light in front seemed to be coming nearer.

A wan glimmer was already beginning to brighten the distant east when
the Epicurus approached the vessel with the light, but it seemed to wish
to avoid the Alexandrian, and turned suddenly towards the northeast.

Archibius and Dion now discussed whether it would be worth while to
pursue the fugitive. It was a small ship, which, as the dark masses
of clouds became bordered with golden edges, grew more distinct and
appeared to be a Cilician pirate of the smallest size.

As to its crew, the tried sailors on the Epicurus, a much larger vessel,
which lacked no means of defence, showed no signs of alarm, the helmsman
especially, who had served in the fleet of Sextus Pompey, and had sprung
upon the deck of many a pirate ship.

Archibius deemed it foolish to commence a conflict unnecessarily. But
Dion was in the mood to brave every peril.

If life and death were at stake, so much the better!

He had informed his friend of Iras's fears.

The fleet must be in a critical situation, and if the little Cilician
had had nothing to conceal she would not have shunned the Epicurus.

It was worth while to learn what had induced her to turn back just
before reaching the harbour. The warlike helmsman also desired to give
chase, and Archibius yielded, for the uncertainty was becoming more
and more unbearable. Dion's soul was deeply burdened too. He could not
banish Barine's image; and since Archibius had told him that he had
found her resolved to shut her house against guests, and how willingly
she had accepted his invitation to the country, again and again he
pondered over the question what should prevent his marrying the quiet
daughter of a distinguished artist, whom he l