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Ben-Hur had not time to express his thanks for the song before the keel of the boat grated upon the underlying sand, and, next moment, the bow ran upon the shore.

&quot;A quick voyage, O Egypt!&quot; he cried.

&quot;And a briefer stay!&quot; she replied, as, with a strong push, the black sent them shooting into the open water again.

&quot;You will give me the rudder now.&quot;

&quot;Oh, no,&quot; said she, laughing. &quot;To you, the chariot; to me, the boat. We are merely at the lake's end, and the lesson is that I must not sing any more. Having been to Egypt, let us now to the Grove of Daphne.&quot;

&quot;Without a song on the way?&quot; he said, in deprecation.

&quot;Tell me something of the Roman from whom you saved us to-day,&quot; she asked.

The request struck Ben-Hur unpleasantly.

&quot;I wish this were the Nile,&quot; he said, evasively. &quot;The kings and queens, having slept so long, might come down from their tombs, and ride with us.&quot;

&quot;They were of the colossi, and would sink our boat. The pygmies would be preferable. But tell me of the Roman. He is very wicked, is he not?&quot; &quot;I cannot say.&quot;