The Gaul’s lips were parted for an angry reply, but he suppressed it and said, “I am the emperor’s centurion, and I ask you, what did the woman look like whom you saw, and where did you meet her?”
The soldier’s fierce looks, and his captain’s words showed Hermas that the fugitive woman had nothing good to expect if she were caught, and as he was not in the least inclined to assist her pursuers he hastily replied, giving the reins to his audacity, “I at any rate did not meet the person whom you seek; the woman I saw is certainly not this man’s wife, for she might very well be his granddaughter. She had gold hair, and a rosy face, and the greyhound that followed her was called Iambe.”
“Where did you meet her?” shrieked the centurion.
“In the fishing-village at the foot of the mountain,” replied Hermas. “She got into a boat, and away it went!”
“Towards the north?” asked the Gaul.
“I think so,” replied Hermas, “but I do not know, for I was in a hurry, and could not look after her.”
“Then we will try to take her in Klysma,” cried Phoebicius to the Amalekite. “If only there were horses in this accursed desert!”
“It is four days’ journey,” said Talib considering. “And beyond Elim there is no water before the Wells of Moses. Certainly if we could get good dromedaries—”
“And if,” interrupted Hermas, “it were not better that you, my lord centurion, should not go so far from the oasis. For over there they say that the Blemmyes are gathering, and I myself am going across as a spy so soon as it is dark.”
Phoebicius looked down gloomily considering the matter. The news had reached him too that the sons of the desert were preparing for a new incursion, and he cried to Talib angrily but decidedly, as he turned his back upon Hermas, “You must ride alone to Klysma, and try to capture her. I cannot and will not neglect my duty for the sake of the wretched woman.”