The man took the papyrus in his hand and looked at it. Then he glanced cunningly at Nathan.
"What does it mean?" he growled, handing it back. "I cannot read."
This was evidently a contingency that had not entered into Nathan's calculations.
"It is signed by Boupares—here, do you see!" he said, holding the writing under the jailer's nose.
"Well, what then?" the man asked suspiciously.
"It is an order," Nathan continued. "You are to deliver the Greek prisoners to me immediately."
"What are you going to do with them?" the jailer asked.
"Boupares desires to talk with them before they are examined," Nathan explained.
"I shall not give them up," the jailer replied, with the air of a man who has made up his mind. "If Boupares wishes to see them, let him come here. They were sent to me under the seal of the king himself, and this order of yours has no seal. Do you think I want to be boiled alive as my comrade was last month? I can hear his yells yet, for I helped to do it. You can tell Boupares what I have said, and now be off."
Like most ignorant men when they think, or pretend to think, that they are being imposed upon, the jailer raised his voice to a bullying shout. Nathan looked apprehensively over his shoulder toward the entrance of the prison. The harsh tone echoed between the narrow walls and might be easily heard at the gate, where several men were stationed.