The mariners, regardless of her sorrows, rowed towards land, without a word passing among them, till Pompey, by way of breaking silence, looking at Septim'ius, whose face he recollected.

"Methinks, friend," said he, "you once served under me." Septim'ius noticing these words only by a contemptuous nod of the head, Pompey betook himself to a paper, on which he had minuted a speech intended to be made to the king, and began reading it.

In this manner they approached the shore; whilst Corne'lia, whose insufferable sorrow had never let her lose sight of her husband, began to conceive hopes, perceiving that the people on the strand crowded down along the coast as if eager to receive him.24.

Alas! these hopes were soon destroyed.

At the instant that Pompey rose, supporting himself upon his freedman's arm, Septim'ius stabbed him in the back, and Achil'las instantly seconded the blow.25.Pompey, perceiving his death inevitable, calmly disposed himself to meet it with decency; and covering his face with his robe, without a word resigned himself to his fate.26.At this horrid sight, Corne'lia and her attendants shrieked, so as to be heard to the very shore.