At the word of Hanno, "Away!" the chief of the rowers clapped his hands, timing the strokes which raised the vessel half out of the water, and sent it plunging and bounding like a veritable dolphin through the sea. As the bireme struck the high waves King Hiram advanced to the prow. Throwing off his cap and toga, he indulged in a bath of wind and spray, that dashed against his bare head and breast. "Oh, to be a sea-king indeed, with no councillors but you, Hanno! What a life!" "I would counsel you to follow your own free mind," replied the captain. "That is the reason I like you," said Hiram. "Why have any adviser, then?" "For the pleasure of being confirmed in my obstinacy." "But I might thwart you some day." "That would be impossible, for I should turn and follow your counsel. Will you be my prime-minister, Hanno?" "No." "Why not?" "Because I want to remain your friend." "Why not be both?" "It might not be possible. The interest of the state of Tyre may be one thing; the interest of Hiram another." "That's treason, Hanno." "Hang me to the masthead, then," replied Hanno; "for I am going to stick to Hiram, whatever becomes of the king." "You think of me as a crab that may shed the shell of royalty some day," replied Hiram, laughing. "Well, I confess that if it were not for the claws of power, which I rather like the pleasure of using, I would let my shell go to-morrow. But I must pinch off the heads of some of the priests first. Thus--" As he spoke the king took from a shelf just beneath the prow a half-dozen little clay images, uncouth figures representing the Cabeiri, the gods which were supposed to preside over the arts and navigation. He broke off their heads, and threw them into the sea. "One day, Hanno, we shall throw overboard all such trumpery from the state of Tyre. That's what I told the council to-day." "Told the council? That was a bold speech," replied the captain, his face flushing and paling with sudden emotion. "And an unwise one, I know from your look," said Hiram. "Ay, and dangerous! May I take the liberty of cautioning you, my king?" "Liberty? It's your duty, Hanno. Haven't I appointed you for life to be my other self? I have never had a secret from you since we were boys, and sent to sea under old Dagon." The king took the arm of Hanno. "Do you remember, old comrade, how once I even lied for you, and you lied for me; but the old water-dog believed neither of us, and flogged us both, though your father owned the craft, and mine was king of Tyre? I expect to see Dagon's ugly head rise from the waves some day, for the Cabeiri cannot keep such a restless ghost long down there with them."