Timokles was perfectly quiet.

The hand above him felt down the sides of the rock, waved in the darkness above the boy, descended and rested an instant on the gravel next him--but did not touch him.

The silent menace of the groping hand was terrible.

Timokles held his breath.
The hand passed on, feeling of other rocks.
"O God of thy people, thou hast hidden me!" cried Timokles in his heart, as he heard the soft rubbing of his enemy's hand against the farther rocks.
The sound died away.

Timokles lay listening for a long time.