If only he could find decisive proof, and bring it before the authorities, what a reward he might hope to have given him! Yet never, from the day when Heraklas spied Athribis watching the reading of the roll, had the slave, with all his contriving, been able again to catch sight of the papyrus.

It was no longer kept in its secret hole behind the bricks.

Athribis had looked.
Where else had he not looked?
He had hunted the house through as thoroughly as he had been able, snatching a hasty opportunity here and there.

If only he could lay hands on that very papyrus! If he could have time to show it to somebody who could read! Deeply had Athribis regretted that he had not been more cautious in his first spying.

But now, what hope was there?
Athribis had set some of the other slaves of the house to watch, but they had discovered nothing save the old papyri that bad been in the house for years.