"Your words are safe with me, my king," replied Hanno, "but I beg you to have a care; for the priests are all-powerful in Tyre. Their hold on the people is tightening. They are plotting deeper than you and I know to-day; but we may know to-morrow. The old image of Baal-Moloch on the mainland is to be repaired, and I am told that the market at Aphaca has more maidens enrolled this year to disgrace themselves to Astarte than for a generation past. Your cousin Rubaal's sister, the Princess Elisa, has been announced as a candidate for the shambles." "It is monstrous!" cried Hiram. "I would risk my crown to wipe out our shame; for the crown will not be worth keeping if I am to be king of a horde of devils and strumpets." "And I pledge my wealth and life to help you," replied Hanno. "Except your own wealth, and that of Ahimelek--which the gods grant may come safely to your house!--my resources are, perhaps, the greatest in Tyre. But we must be cautious." "No, no, Hanno! King Hiram will never take a shekel of his friend's riches to gild his own glory." "But I am prime-minister, you know, and may do what I please," replied his friend, laughing. "But this is not resting you. Shall we give these steersmen a lesson?" Two long oars rigged one on either side of the keel-line at the stern served as rudders. They were joined by a brace at the handles, by which they could be connected or disconnected, and thus be worked by one person in quiet water, but needed the strength of two in heavy seas, or in putting the bireme through rapid manoeuvres. Two brawny fellows were manning them, as the wind was rising. The brace of helmsmen, doffing their caps, gave place to the king and his companion. "Quicker!" shouted Hiram to the master of the oarsmen, whose hands beat out the gradually accelerating time, until the sixty blades cut the water as the wings of a kingfisher cut the air. The wind still freshening, they set the great square sail. Soon they tacked far to the north, and, rounding to the west, crossed the bows of the bireme of Herodotus. "The king! the king!" shouted the sailors on the _Dido_, as they recognized the well-known forms at the helm. And "Hanno! Hanno! Hanno!" was given with equal enthusiasm. All the oar-blades of the _Dido_ were lifted from the water as the _Dolphin_ dashed past. On the high stern stood the venerable Herodotus, his head uncovered, and his noble brow white and shining like an aureole, in contrast with his bronzed lower face and dark beard. He held aloft a goblet of wine, and shouted, as the _Dolphin_ flew by: "To Hiram! To Tyre!" The _Dolphin_ careened far over as she turned, her great square sail throwing a shadow on the deck of the _Dido_ as it intercepted the western sun. It was a dangerous manoeuvre for any but helmsmen of utmost skill to have attempted.