XIV.
THE ARGONAUTS.
Early the next morning the pinnace of Alexander was moving toward the Nile as fast as eight strong oarsmen and a fair breeze could carry it. Under a silken awning in the stern sat Seti and Rachel: while at some distance a few stout male servants in holiday attire leaned over the bulwarks, watching the water ripple away from the shapely sides, listening to the low monotonous stroke-song of the rowers as they rhythmically struck the waters, and occasionally talking together in a low tone.
Seemingly it was a holiday excursion—nothing more. The whole aspect of things on board that delicate butterfly of a vessel, including the lovely maiden in her rich robes, with her harp standing by her side, was that of a pleasure party. No one looking from shore or passing vessel would have thought that such a festival barge with its luxurious and dainty furnishings and daintier mistress was heavily weighted with anxious thoughts of peril and conflict.
To Rachel, her surroundings, from the cloudless sky and wooing breeze to the costly and delicate sea-chariot on which she was borne, seemed almost so many mockeries. Her real sky was full of clouds, her real wind was the breath of storms, and the real galley on which her spirit was sailing was a war ship full of swords and spears and faces threatening battle. She found it very hard to cover her anxieties with the serene face and manner which she felt the situation demanded. So she kept the servants as far from her as possible, that their prying eyes and ears might not play too successfully on herself and Seti.
They were hardly well afloat before Seti began to unfold his plan of proceeding.
“It is very important,” said he, “that we implicate the Flacci, both father and son, as little as possible in this affair. The father, bad as he is, probably has nothing to do with the abduction; and so ought not to suffer on account of it. The guilty party is Sextus; who, having access to his father’s official seal and blank forms, forged the warrant for the arrest, and then employed some dissolute companions of his among the discharged Roman soldiers to execute the warrant. These having no duties in the city have not yet returned, and so the watch of the students for them has been in vain. Sextus is the great criminal in the case and deserves exposure. But, if we so manage the matter as to expose him both to his mortified father and the public, we shall be sure so to exasperate both of them as to throw their whole influence, under one pretext or another, against us in the impending suit against Malus. And that would be a very serious matter. So we must try to rescue Aleph as quietly as possible—in some way that does not direct public suspicion toward the Flacci at all. If we should appear before the castle of the governor with a sufficient force to back us, and demand the prisoner, the whole affair would at once go abroad to the four winds, and cry Flaccus in every ear from Pharos to the Cataracts: besides, the garrison would probably deny having the prisoner, and contrive some way of disposing of him before we could effect an entrance. So the best way for us is to persuade the custodes to give Aleph the means of making his own escape; and we can be near to receive him and carry him quietly back to the city—saying nothing as to where he was found and how rescued. If this plan fails we must, of course, resort to rougher methods.”
“Do you think,” inquired the maiden, “that Aleph would have submitted so quietly to the arrest had he not supposed it made by the proper authorities?”
“Certainly not. He yielded to what he supposed to be the government of the country in which for the time being he was living.”
“In that case, if he were assured that the arrest was pronounced unwarranted by the governor, and that he was expressly allowed to free himself by any means, would he not be likely to make great efforts to free himself?”