"Slay now, but cast none overboard!" commanded Tostig. "Here are soldiers sleeping."
These who slept were not many of them Romans, but more were soldiers of Herod, Jews and Arabians and Edomites. They died speedily under the swift thrusting of the Saxon spears, but the watchman had fallen first.
"Spare the rowers in their places," said Wulf the Skater. "We will use them."
But these rowers were all slaves, in chains, and they looked upon the slaughter in silence, as if it were no affair of their own.
"Be ready, all!" suddenly commanded Tostig. "Utter no sound! A boat cometh from the shore, as Lysias gave us to expect. Not from this beach, but from a pier in the harbor. In it are but few men. In the prow is some great one, but he weareth no helmet. Let them come on board with all safety, but none in that boat may return to Joppa."
For a cause known to themselves not one of them had any purpose of at once returning. They came swiftly to the galley and all climbed eagerly on board, casting adrift their boat to float where it would.
"Away!" shouted he who seemed their leader, as if speaking to sailors who were under his own direction. "Row out of the harbor quickly. Speed, or a scourge for every back!"
Saxon hands were already raising the anchor and the rowers put out their oars as they were bidden.
"O all ye gods!" suddenly cried out the great man, stumbling over a fallen soldier. "What is this? O my destruction! The hand of Pontius the Spearman is here! I perish!"