The face of the young woman saddened as she replied:
"You are suffering, Albinik? Alas, you, thus mutilated!"
"Is the sea-wolf[3] caught without a lure?"
"No."
"Let the fishing be good," answered Albinik, "and I shall not regret having given my hand for bait."
The young woman sighed, and after looking at the tree a minute, said to her husband:
"Come, then, put your back to the trunk. I'll step in the hollow of your hand, then onto your shoulder, and from your shoulder I can reach that large branch overhead."
"Fearless and devoted! You are always the dear wife of my heart, true as my sister Hena is a saint," tenderly answered Albinik, and steadying himself against the tree, he took in his hand the little foot of his companion. With his good arm he supported his wife while she placed her foot on his shoulder. Thence she reached the first large bough. Then, mounting from branch to branch, she gained the top of the oak. Arrived there, Meroë cast her eyes abroad, and saw towards the south, under a group of seven stars, the gleam of several fires. She descended, nimble as a bird, and at last, putting her feet on the mariner's shoulder, was on the ground with one bound, saying:
"We must go towards the south, in the direction of those seven stars. That way lie the fires of Caesar's camp."
"Let us take that road, then," returned the sailor, indicating the narrower of the two ways, and the two travelers pursued their journey. After a few steps, the young woman halted. She seemed to be searching in her garments.