Curses flew
after him. He drove on down the road.
Ariston remembered when he himself had been dragged up here two years
ago from the pirate ship.
"This leads to the sea," he thought. "I will go there. Perhaps I shall
meet my master, Tetreius. He will come by ship. Surely I shall find him.
The gods will send him to me. O blessed gods!"
But what a sea! It roared and tossed and boiled. While Ariston looked,
a ship was picked up and crushed and swallowed. The sea poured up the
steep shore for hundreds of feet. Then it rushed back and left its
strange fish gasping on the dry land. Great rocks fell from the sky,
and steam rose up as they splashed into the water. The sun was growing
fainter. The black cloud was coming on. Soon it would be dark. And then
what? Ariston lay down where the last huge wave had cooled the ground.
"It is all over, Caius," he murmured. "I shall never see Athens again."
For a while there were no more earthquakes. The sea grew a little less
wild. Then the half-fainting Ariston heard shouts. He lifted his head.
A small boat had come ashore. The rowers had leaped out. They were
dragging it up out of reach of the waves.
"How strange!" thought Ariston. "They are not running away. They must be
brave. We are all cowards."
"Wait for me here!" cried a lordly voice to the rowers.
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