the
mole was none too large; as the frightened men piled into her, the
shifting and increasing weight threw her on an uneven keel; and then
came the horror. A cry of mortal agony burst from hundreds of throats
as the ship capsized. Drusus, as he ran, saw, but for a twinkling, her
deck black with writhing men, then her curving sides and keel, ere all
vanished behind the embankment of the mole. The three fugitives ran to
the edge of the causeway: below them, the water full of men battling
for life; behind, the foe, now fully aware of their advantage and
pressing on with exultant shouts. Never had the Imperator been in
greater peril. Drusus glanced at his chief and saw that he was very
pale, evidently hurt in the scuffle. There was not a ship within hail,
not a ship within two arrow-flights; and all seemed pulling back as if
to escape from the danger.

"Leap, swim!" cried Caesar, casting off his breastplate.[185]

[185] _Lorica_.

"There is no ship within reach, Imperator," replied the young man,
gravely.

"You are young and strong," was his answer, "and will come away safe."
Caesar was preparing to spring over the edge.

"And you?" cried Drusus, catching him by the wrist. He knew that Caesar
could never swim the distance to the nearest ship.

"In the hands of the Fates."

But Agias, whose eyes had been straining out into the western harbour,
cried, "Help! A galley is coming!"

"Imperator," said Drusus, "you must wait for this galley."

The foe were almost on them.

"Are you mad?" was the exclamation of the general.

"I can hold them off until it is safe to swim," and Drusus had covered
himself behind a coping in the masonry.

Caesar measured the distance with his eye.

"We play at dice with Fortuna, whatever we do," was his comment.
"Come, then." And the three steadied themselves on the narrow footing
behind the parapet, one thrust being enough to send them headlong.
Fortunately weapons were ready--thrown away by the luckless fugitives.
When the Alexandrians rushed up, three pila crashed in upon them, and,
caught unawares by the little volley, they held back an instant. The
three desperate men were counting their hearts' beats, while the
distance from the friendly galley lessened. Then the rush came, but it
was met, and, narrow as was the ledge, the attempt to carry it failed.
The victors were stripping the dead, and, thus engaged, few joined in
the attack. Caesar had laid down his paludamentum, and th