Avil-Marduk vouched no sign of recognition until Gudea had come and knelt before the high seat. Then the pontiff raised his eyes. “You say you are Gudea the exorcist?” “Yes, noble lord,” and the wizard still knelt. “Stand up, then. State your errand. You have something against Isaiah the Jew?” Gudea bowed; it was not well to risk long speeches with the great. Avil demanded again:— “Well, do not waste any time. What is the complaint?” “Lord,” came the reply, “he commits murder.” “Murder?” Avil raised his eyebrows. Neriglissor laid down his well-beloved wine-cup. “But why come to me? Am I the judge? Who is dead?” “Saruch, the rich rope merchant, by birth a Jew, a most pious servant of the gods, especially of Bel-Marduk.” “Ah, woe!” began Neriglissor; “he gave five skins to us at the last feast. Excellent wine! Cruel murder!” “And how has this worthy servant of Bel been butchered by Isaiah?” quoth Avil, sternly. “Is justice denied? Where is the magistrate? Can assassins stalk scatheless in our very streets?” “Alas, lord! Isaiah is worse than those who slay with dagger. What armour can repel the evil eye, the secret incantation?” “Ah!” Avil dropped his jaw. Gudea felt uneasily that the high priest was very close to a smile. “Well, how did Saruch die?” Whereupon Gudea launched into a long and tearful narrative of his unlucky exorcism, and how, just as the “Maskim” were mounted to Saruch’s throat, Isaiah appeared, and behold! the sufferer was dead. Gudea had seldom seen or heard of a crueller taking off; and, what was worse, it would be vast encouragement to those stubborn Jews to continue to worship their foul demon, Jehovah. “You bring a sad tale, my friend,” patronized Avil, when the wizard was ended. “It is too true that in these days, when faith in the gods is failing and so many noble _ziggurats_ are sinking in ruins, your noble art is threatened by these pestilential Egyptians. Your tale is but too common. But this Isaiah is no ordinary scoffer. His connection with the civil-minister makes him trebly dangerous.” “True, lord; and if a blasphemer like him is seen to go harmless, where will be any piety in Babylon? Men serve the gods through fear only. They say, ‘If we do not, trouble hastens.’ When one mocks, yet prospers, the rest all follow after. The very priests of Bel will starve.” “Oh, such days of impiety!” groaned Neriglissor. “Religion withers like an unwatered palm. When I was a lad, no man dared buy a kid on an ‘unfortunate day’; now—” Avil cut him short. “You do well to be anxious for the gods, my Gudea; but I have other reasons for wishing the end of these Jews. Not of Isaiah so much as of the civil-minister.” Avil turned to the squatting cup-bearer, and at a motion toward the door the servant salaamed and vanished. The chief priest’s eye suddenly fixed itself on Gudea, and seemed to go through him like a sharp sword.