"For this one man we will wait. Then, if there are not to be two drowned Greeks, we must make our way ashore," he said, hoarsely, and Charmides nodded assent.
The last man, for all his easy bearing, proved to be a far less expert swimmer than his predecessors. He had not accomplished more than a single, uncertain stroke when a wave caught him, rolled over his head, and buried him completely from the straining vision of his would-be rescuer. He was under water for what seemed to Charmides an eternity; and when, finally, by the light of a flash of lightning, the body was seen to reappear from the foam of a broken wave, it tossed there, lifeless, making no effort at resistance. Charmides rushed through the water to the drowning man's side, and, before reaching him, found himself out of his depth. As he sent a despairing shout to Phalaris, the supposed unconscious one addressed him, shouting above the surrounding roar, in Phœnician:
"Save yourself, youth! I shall float—" The sentence was interrupted by a rush of water, which threw Charmides forward, and once more buried the light, limp body of this unusual person.
Acting upon the excellent advice of the floater, the Greek made his difficult way to the shore, arriving on the beach at the same time with Phalaris, and a moment later than the stranger, who had been washed up unhurt and apparently not much disturbed by his contest with the waves.
The two brothers, reaching dry land again, found but few of their friends left on the sand. As the wet and half-drowned sailors arrived, one by one, on the shore, they had been approached by the native Greeks, and, the relations between Carthage and Selinous being as yet of the most amicable nature, hospitably taken up to the city, where warmth, food, and rest were to be had. Among the group of three or four that remained when the last Phœnician was washed up by the waves, was one who hastened to Charmides, as he stood dizzily on the sand looking back into the sea that was in such a furious commotion.
"Charmides, you have been foolhardy enough. Such work is well for Phalaris, perhaps, but—"
"Father, it seems to me that for many months Charmides has been deceiving us. By nature he is an excellent athlete—better than I."
Charmides shook his head and replied, faintly: "Let us go home. There is no more to do."
"But there remain still two men on the galley."
"For them," put in the stranger, speaking in awkward Greek, "you need not fear. They are still below with the slaves, but they will easily reach the shore, if, indeed, they wish to do so. I think they will rather remain where they are to-night."