"Wherever you may be I will make a way to join you."
"You swear it?"
"I swear it!"
At last she had gained what she most desired. Let the worst come, they had exchanged vows, and she knew that at her signal her submissive lover would obey. Leave the rest to fate.
They listened silently, as though in the hope of catching some sign. Nothing, always nothing but the monotonous lapping of the waves against the keel. The stars began to grow dim. A rosy tint illumined the summit of the Othrys. Stirred by the first September breezes, the points of the great masts seemed to trace mysterious signs upon the sky. Dawn had come and the lovers must part.
"Good-bye, my beloved, until this evening," and they turned to their final preparations.
An hour later, as Antony was walking on the shore, he saw a centurion approaching, covered with scars.
"What can I do for you?" he asked, kindly.
"Oh, my Imperator, is it because you scorn us, our swords, our lances, that you are putting faith in those rotten planks?" said the man, pointing to the ships. "For the love of the gods leave the Egyptians and Phoenicians to paddle in water, since that is their vocation, and trust only in us, your old soldiers, who on solid ground will know how to conquer or to die!"
More moved than he cared to show, Antony put his hand on the brave soldier's shoulder and went on without reply.