“Mayhap we shall find one,” he said with a hoarse laugh, “a ship of the fleet of Ochus.”
They began to dispute as to what course they should take.
“Obey me,” I said, “or obey me not, as you will. Only then I, who have the counsel of the gods, tell you that save I only, by sunrise to-morrow everyone of you will be dead.”
They whispered together, for my words frightened them. At length the captain spoke, saying,
“The great Queen Beltis who is gone told us that this woman is a goddess and that what she commanded, that we must do. Let us remember the words of the great Queen Beltis who is dead and doubtless watches us from the sky.”
So this danger passed also, and all that night we floated, keeping the boat’s stern to burning Sidon while the most of the oarsmen slept in their places. So weary were they that not even the horror behind them and the loss of their kinsfolk, or even their own fears, could hold them back from sleep.
But I, Ayesha, did not sleep; nay, I watched and thought. If Philo had fled away, or if his ship had been sunk, what then? Then all was finished. Nay, not so, since it could not be that I should die with but half my task accomplished. I was friendless among strange men, yet in my breast there dwelt the greatest of friends, that spirit whose name is Fate. I threw out my soul to my master Noot the Seer, and lo! it seemed to me that his soul answered, saying,
“Fear nothing, Daughter of Isis, for the wings of Isis shadow thee.”
It drew near to the dawn; I knew it by the stars which I was wont to watch and by the smell of the air. I rose in my seat and stared into the darkness. Behold! not four furlongs from our prow suddenly there sprang into life a fire of green flame.
“Awake,” I cried, “and row on swiftly, for if you would live you must reach the ship upon which yonder fire burns before the breaking of dawn.”