When he had begun to despair, and would not even take food, Demetrios arrived one day, ignorant of all these events. When he learned how things stood he came running forthwith to the prison, but he was not admitted then, for it was evening, and the jailer had locked the door some time before and gone to sleep, bidding his slaves to keep guard. But early in the morning he got in, after many supplications, and, passing along, sought Antiphilos for a long time, whose sufferings had made him unrecognizable. Making the round he examined each of the prisoners, as people do who are searching in the ranks for their own dead, already disfigured by death. And if he had not called his name, "Antiphilos Deinomenous!" it would have been some time before he recognized him, so greatly was he changed by the horrors he had experienced. But when Antiphilos heard the voice he called in reply, and, as the other approached, he parted his hair, filthy and matted with dirt, and drew it back from his face and showed who he was. Both the friends fell swooning at the unexpected sight, but presently Demetrios raised himself and Antiphilos too, and inquired of him exactly how everything stood. He bade him be of good courage, and, tearing his cloak in two, he wrapped himself in one half and the other he gave to Antiphilos, stripping off the dirty, ragged clouts he wore.

After this he kept him company, caring for him and serving him in every way. He hired himself to the merchants at the docks from daybreak till noon, and earned a good wage as a stevedore. Then, leaving his work, he handed over part of his earnings to the jailer, whom he thus rendered gentle and peaceable, and the rest sufficed him for his friend's maintenance. Through the day he used to stay with Antiphilos, cheering him up; but when night fell he would rest close by the door on a little bed he had made, with leaves thrown on it. Some time, then, they passed in this way, Demetrios being free of entry and Antiphilos finding his misfortunes easier to bear.