They were surprised at the sudden appearance of a stranger, almost naked, wounded, and with his face bloody. Chariclea, startled and ashamed, retired into the inmost part of the cave. Cnemon too drew a little back, knowing Thermuthis, seeing him unexpectedly, and fearing that he came there on no good account. But Theagenes was more irritated than terrified, and presenting the point of his sword, called out, "Stand where you are, or you shall receive another wound; thus far I spare you, because I know your face, and am not sure of your designs."--Thermuthis stretched out his unarmed hands, and besought his compassion; forced, notwithstanding his rugged temper, from the circumstance he was in, to become a supplicant. He called on Cnemon for assistance, and said he deserved help from him, having never injured him; having lived with him as a comrade, and coming now as a friend. Cnemon was moved by his entreaties; raised him from the knees of Theagenes which he had embraced, and eagerly inquired where was Thyamis. The latter related all he knew--how his leader had attacked the enemy; how he had rushed into the midst of the battle, sparing neither his foes nor himself; the slaughter he made of them; and the protection which the proclamation to take him alive afforded him. He mentioned his own wound and escape, but knew nothing of his captain's fate; and was come here in search of Thisbe. They inquired how he became so interested about Thisbe; and how she came into his possession. He told them everything: how he had taken her from a merchant; how he fell violently in love with her, and had concealed her some time in his tent, and at the approach of the attacking party had placed her in the cave where he now saw her slain; that he was perfectly ignorant of the authors of her death, but would most gladly find them out if he could, and ascertain their motive. Cnemon, eager to free himself from suspicion, told him it was certainly Thyamis who slew her; and shewed him the sword which was found beside her; which, when Thermuthis saw, still reeking with blood, and warm from the wound, and knew it to have belonged to Thyamis, he uttered a deep groan, still more perplexed how to account for the accident, and in dumb gloomy astonishment moved towards the mouth of the cave. Here throwing himself upon the bosom of the deceased, he embraced the body, and repeating nothing but the name of Thisbe, fainter by degrees and fainter, oppressed with grief and fatigue, sunk at last into a sleep.