“I will tell your excellency,” said the Egyptian. “It is understood in the city that a party of Roman soldiers, under a written warrant from you, arrested and carried off, we know not where, a privileged member of the University, for whom the best vouchers can be found. But, as I now learn from you, that warrant must have been forged; and what appeared to be Roman soldiers, were not such, but other parties in disguise. Now I would respectfully suggest that you give me and the other friends of the young man written authority to search for and rescue him at whatever cost to those who have carried him off. This will answer our purpose, and at the same time serve to defend you from the suspicions of the people.”
Flaccus hesitated, bit his lip, twirled a gold badge that hung from his neck, looked at every object in the room save Seti. Seti looked at nothing save him.
The priest rose to go. “Time is of great consequence to me this morning. Am I to understand that your excellency declines to authorize me in writing to rescue from robbers and murderers a young man for whom the Alabarch and myself, as well as the University at large, offer to stand vouchers?”
“I do not see why you need a written authorization from me,” said Flaccus, beginning to sharpen a reed.
“I did not say that we need such a document. You need to give it.” He said this last in a low but a very distinct and measured tone of voice.
“Well, I will give it,” said the governor with sudden decision—“if it will oblige you and your friends.”
“It will oblige us,” said Seti; and in a few moments he took punctilious leave with the desired document in his possession.
He returned at once to the Serapeum. Resuming his ordinary dress, he proceeded to the lecture room, where, as yet, he found only two or three students, among whom was Publius Cornelius. He beckoned them to him, and asked such co-operation as they could give in a matter he was about to bring before the whole class. Shortly they came pouring in, rather obstreperously, I fear, as college boys have been wont to do from the beginning; but as soon as they set eyes on their teacher there was a profound hush; for they saw at once that something unusual had happened—that the Seti they had hitherto known had given place to quite a different Seti and a much younger man. All the old dignity and authority were in his face and bearing; but somehow there had come into the old look a roused and forceful expression such as a crisis might be expected to call out in a young man largely endowed both as a man of thought and action. Calm, watchful, mindful of all that is passing and likely to pass, prepared to throw his whole force into action at a moment’s warning. All the students were in a hush of expectation as they saw the new man sitting on the old bema.
He began with saying that he had no lecture for them that morning. But he had something better than a lecture—an opportunity for a good action. He then concisely and simply narrated his morning experiences, and held up the document he had obtained from Flaccus. Perhaps the young man had been killed. Perhaps he was only imprisoned in some out-of-the-way place. It was for his friends to find out the facts as soon as possible. He knew of none who could do as prompt and good service in the matter as the generous-minded fellow-students of the extraordinary young man who had so commended himself to their admiration. Would they undertake it?
The response was instantaneous. Many sprang to their feet, with flushed faces and hot, indignant words.