Hanno plunged into the sea, and swam to the floating wreck. Abdemon was barely alive. He had ceased to cling, and was lying limp across the bottom of the upturned boat. The sea had subsided, else he had been washed off. It was nearly another hour before Hanno was able to work the wreck to the beach and carry the nearly unconscious priest ashore. As Abdemon recovered his senses, it was plain that he had seen nothing of what had occurred. "The Cabeiri have avenged Baal," cried he. "I could have died willingly after I saw the sea swallow up the traitorous king, but I could not bear the thought of being myself drowned in the same water. Baal be praised! Baal be praised!" "And now," suggested Hanno, "we must hasten back to Tyre with the news. The sooner the search ceases, and the priests return, the less danger of suspicion by the people. Baal has taken his offering, whether by fire or water it matters not that the crowd should know." "Baal be praised!" echoed Abdemon. "Could you not return alone?" asked Hanno. "I, as a new priest, and one assigned by our most worshipful chief to the superintendency of our temple property, would learn of the practices of worship among these tribes of Ammon and Moab. And then I would visit Jerusalem, where these Jews are rebuilding their temple. I may learn much that will add to the splendor and impressiveness of our worship." After some further consultation Hanno's plans were approved by his fellow-priest. They talked about the renovation of temples and the coming glory of the priestly guild, when the wealth of Ahimelek should augment the treasury of Melkarth. Near nightfall a fisherman rowed Hanno and Abdemon across the upper end of the Sea of Galilee to one of the little hamlets there, and under the starlight he brought Hanno back to the eastern shore. CHAPTER XVIII. The veracious chronicler of the adventures of King Hiram is compelled to pass over in silence a period of several months. As certain rivers disappear, and flow for a distance beneath the ground, so the course of events, as directed by the discreet and wary Hanno, was for a while inscrutable. We will follow it, however, from the point where it came again into the daylight of observation. Since men began to travel on the earth, innkeepers have been noted for the courtesy, tact, and assiduity with which they have reaped the rewards of their business. On a certain day Solomon Ben Eli, innkeeper at Jericho, in the valley of the Lower Jordan, found all the above-named qualities of his disposition exercised to the utmost. This was the day before the opening of the annual Feast of Tabernacles at Jerusalem, during the seven days of which celebration the men from all parts of the land came together at the Sacred City.