“You do not suppose,” he said, “that you are going to find out a secret so well hidden by a few hours’ watching. It may be weeks before we succeed. To-morrow we will begin our watch two or three hours before sundown. I am better known to the servants at the house of Ptylus than you are, as I have often taken messages there; besides, in my disguise I could not so well loiter about without attracting attention as you could. I will, therefore, content myself with watching the northern road from the city upon the chance of his taking that way, while you in your dress as peasants can watch the house itself. You, Chebron, might sit down by the wall fifty yards from the house on the north side, while you, Amuba, had best keep on the other side of the road and somewhat to the south of the gate. In this way you will be in sight of each other and yet not together; solitary figures are less likely to attract attention than two together, for it is for two boys that people will be looking. As I should scarcely know you myself now that your skins are darkened, there is, I trust, small fear of others detecting your disguise.” Accordingly the next day, three hours after noon, Amuba and Chebron, disguised as peasants, went down to the house of Ptylus and took their posts as arranged. Late in the afternoon Amuba noticed that one of the slaves from the house of Ptylus suddenly checked his walk as he passed Chebron and gazed fixedly at him. Amuba left the spot where he was standing and walked quickly in that direction. The slave spoke to Chebron, who rose to his feet. A moment later the slave seized him. As they were struggling Amuba ran up. “Here is a find!” the slave exclaimed. “This is the slayer of the sacred cat. Aid me to drag him into the house of my master.” But to his surprise Amuba sprang upon him and struck him such a heavy blow in the face that he released his hold of Chebron and staggered backward. “Run for your life!” Amuba exclaimed to his friend. “I will take another route.” The slave, recovering from his blow, rushed at Amuba, shouting at the top of his voice: “Death to the insulters of the gods! Death to the slayers of the sacred cat!” But Amuba, who was now eighteen years of age, was at once stronger and more active than the slave, whose easy life in the household of the priest had unfitted him for such a struggle. Springing back to avoid the grasp of his assailant, Amuba struck him with all his strength in the face, and as he reeled backward repeated the blow, and the man fell heavily to the ground. But several other people attracted by the conflict and the shouts of the slave, were running up, and Amuba took to his heels at the top of his speed. As he expected, the passers-by paused to assist the fallen man and to learn the cause of the fray before they took up the pursuit, and he was nearly two hundred yards away when he heard the cry again raised, “Death to the slayer of the sacred cat!”