"Why not for me, if for you?" rejoined Zillah. "I am not a butterfly, that must needs flit only in the sunshine. I would rather be like our heroic Queen Dido, for all her troubles, than be a mere statue come to life, like that which her brother, our King Pygmalion, made. Your cares shall be mine, or I am not worthy to sit under the purple canopy of your throne." "Right royally spoken!" cried Hiram, in an outburst of admiration. "But, for all that, I shall save you from such scenes and such priests, for I shall decree that there shall be no gods--except that every man shall have his own Astarte, and she shall be worshipped thus--" He laid his ardent offering upon her lips. CHAPTER VI. An unusual throng filled the streets and the Great Square when the king returned from the house of Ahimelek to his own palace. Priests were everywhere. It seemed as if the ecclesiastical hives of half the cities of Phoenicia had swarmed along the coast, and lit again on the rock of Tyre. Some of these priests, with unkempt hair and mad eyes, were haranguing the crowd; others were engaged in excited debate among themselves. The palanquin of the king moved among the people as if it were the ark of some strange religion; for, while a few glanced at it with respect, many regarded it with rage, and scarcely restrained the impulse to lay violent hands upon it. Egbalus and his devotees had evidently done effective work, not only in disseminating their own venomous spirit, but in organizing their various guilds for action in emergency. The royal attendants noticed that a band of priests moved just ahead of them, and that another band came behind, as if the king's person were either honorably escorted or dangerously menaced. Still another company of priests moved hastily, yet in order, away from the palace gate as the king approached it. Hiram was himself too much engrossed with his own thoughts fully to take in what was transpiring beyond the closely drawn curtains of his carriage. But, having passed within his own gate, he suddenly awoke to a sense of some unusual environment that was being spun about him. Entering his private apartment, he was possessed by that mysterious power of clairvoyance through which one is made conscious of a presence that is neither seen nor heard. He was impressed with the fact that the room already contained an occupant. The instinct of danger, reinforced by an acquired habit of vigilance, led him to place his back against the wall, and his hand upon his dagger hilt. Uncertain of the loyalty of even the private servants of his chamber, he determined to face the unknown menace alone. He dismissed all his attendants, and closed the door behind them as they made their exit. Prepared to strike at any living thing that had dared to invade his privacy, he stood a moment listening, and searching with his eyes every object which the thick screen of the hanging lamp left in the shadows. "Who goes here?" was his challenge.