By it passed first the trumpeters, sounding the popular joy to the very sky with their melodious clangor. Dancing-women followed, keeping step to the thumbing of their tambours. A thousand Persian horsemen clattered next. Then came high officers of state and dignitaries of foreign courts. Hanno strode at the head of the royal guard of honor, a band of his own selection from among the noblest young men of Tyre. These halted at the great portal of the palace, and gathered closely about the king's palanquin. The gate of the royal residence swung wide and closed again. Four men of gigantic stature, naked except at the loins and for the rings that shone about their ankles and arms, lifted the palanquin to their shoulders, its gorgeous curtains of silk screening the royal personage from the gaze of the people, until he should stand before them beneath the sparkle of his crown. The bands from Samaria and Galilee were honored with the next position in the cortège. A litter that seemed of beaten gold bore the noble prince Ezmunazar, son of King Tabnit of Sidon, who represented that neighboring throne. Then followed Egbalus, whose repute for sanctity and inspiration had led to his re-election to the high priest's office for a second year. Priests of all grades and divinities closed the procession. The well-marshalled host entered the great pavilion, filing in order past the dais and throne, and allowing the dignitaries to take the places assigned them. The royal palanquin passed behind the purple hangings. A blare of trumpets rang out. Egbalus ascended the steps of the dais, holding in his hands a cushion upon which lay the sceptre and ancient crown of Tyre. Turning to the multitude, he addressed them, rehearsing in stately speech the renown of the Tyrian monarchy through the centuries since their city was founded by the divine Tyrus. He dwelt upon the times of Hiram the Great, and then burst into rhapsodic eloquence as he described the translation of that other Hiram who had been taken to the gods. "As surely as the beams of the sun-god shine this day, so surely does the blessing of our King Hiram--our divine Hiram--fall upon us. Hail him! Praise him for the voluntary sacrifice by which he has won forever the favor of Baal for his people of Tyre! Think of him when the light gleams into your homes, for Hiram is a beam of Baal! Adore him when it flashes from the sea where he guides your ships! Worship him in the fire-light of your sacrifices, for the flames are the bright rays from the crown of our invisible king!" As Egbalus paused, the priests led the multitude in cries of-- "Hail, Hiram the Blessed! the son of Baal!" Egbalus resumed: "Whither went the spirit of Hiram? O ye sons of men! I saw the spirit of Hiram ascend into the dome of heaven. Again I saw it descend to the earth. It entered the form of another--of your new-chosen king. Hail, Rubaal!"