He must be about his business. He went to where Appius lay and bent
over him. The pilot drew his dagger; the youth rolled drowsily and his
hands were now upon the feet of Tepas. The latter leaned to strike. A
sound startled him. It was a footfall close behind. The Jew rose,
turning to listen. Suddenly his feet went from under him and he fell
head-long; quickly two seamen leaped upon him, seizing his head and
hands. One disarmed him, the other covered his mouth. Appius clung
upon the feet of the Jew. A Roman slave had taken the wheel.
"Shall we bind him?" said one of the seamen.
"No," said Appius, breathing heavily as the pilot tried to shake him
off. "Give the dog a chance. Yonder is an island. We shall soon be
near it, and by swimming he may save his life."
"The gold is upon him," said a seaman; "I can feel it under his tunic."
"But we shall not rob him," was the answer of Appius.
"It is heavy. It will be like a stone to sink him."
"However, we shall not rob him," the young Roman repeated.
Now, when they were come as near the isle as they dare bring their
ship, Appius gave a command.
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