Once more I stood upon the deck of the _Diana_ in the harbour of Alexandria. With me were Martina and Heliodore. Heliodore’s face was stained and she was dressed as a boy, such a harlequin lad as singers and mountebanks often take in their company. The ship was ready to start and the wind served. Yet we could not sail because of the lack of some permission. A Moslem galley patrolled the harbour and threatened to sink us if we dared to weigh without this paper. The mate had gone ashore with a bribe. We waited and waited. At length the captain, Menas, who stood by me, whispered into my ear, “Be calm; he comes; all is well.” Then I heard the mate shout: “I have the writing under seal,” and Menas gave the order to cast off the ropes that held the ship to the quay. One of the sailors came up and reported to Menas that their companion, Cosmas, was missing. It seemed that he had slipped ashore without leave and had not returned. “There let him bide,” said Menas, with an oath. “Doubtless the hog lies drunk in some den. When he awakes he may tell what tale he pleases and find his own way back to Lesbos. Cast off, cast off! I say.” At this moment that same Cosmas appeared. I could not see him, but I could hear him plainly enough. Evidently he had become involved in some brawl, for an angry woman and others were demanding money of him and he was shouting back drunken threats. A man struck him and the woman got him by the beard. Then his reason left him altogether. “Am I, a Christian, to be treated thus by you heathen dogs?” he screamed. “Oh, you think I am dirt beneath your feet. I have friends, I tell you I have friends. You know not whom I serve. I say that I am a soldier of Olaf the Northman, Olaf the Blind, Olaf Red-Sword, he who made you prophet-worshippers sing so small at Mitylene, as he will do again ere long.” “Indeed, friend,” said a quiet voice. It was that of the Moslem captain, Yusuf, he who befriended us when we arrived at Alexandria, who had been watching all this scene. “Then you serve a great general, as some of us have cause to know. Tell me, where is he now, for I hear that he has left Lesbos?” “Where is he? Why, aboard yonder ship, of course. Oh! he has fooled you finely. Another time you’ll search beggar’s rags more closely.” “Cast off! Cast off!” roared Menas. “Nay,” said the officer, “cast not off. Soldiers, drive away those men. I must have words with the captain of this ship. Come, bring that drunken fellow with you.” “Now all is finished,” I said. “Yes,” answered Heliodore, “all is finished. After we have endured so much it is hard. Well, at least death remains to us.” “Hold your hand,” exclaimed Martina. “God still lives and can save us yet.” Black bitterness took hold of me. In some few days I had hoped to reach Lesbos, and there be wed to Heliodore. And now! And now!