Then, the first surprise past, the General made his obeisance to Deborah, as Dion announced his name: "My father, General Agathocles, begs to salute the daughter of Elkiah before he leaves the city." Deborah rose. The gracefulness of her courtesy as she recognized her visitors matched her beauty. The Greek afterward said it was as fitting as the light is to the flame which emits it. "You are welcome to our home, sir, both for your own sake and the sake of Dion. But do you know this good man whom God has just taken from us?" "I knew him," replied the Greek, bowing beside the stiffening form. "I knew Gideon ben Sirach. And aye for a good man too." He raised the deformed arm of the dead man, and pressed it to his lips. He drew up Sirach's loose sleeve, and looked long upon a terrible scar that lay among the shrivelled muscles. Then, speaking to himself, seemingly unaware that he was uttering his thoughts aloud: "To this poor hand, good Gideon, do I not owe more than to any other, living or dead? These arms brought me my greatest treasure--the only treasure I would live for, or die for." Then, raising his face as if to discern the spirit of Sirach hovering above his body, as it was believed by many in that age that newly departed spirits were loath to venture suddenly out upon the great unknown journey, and remained for a while near to their former house of clay--he said: "Gideon, let me speak the gratitude that I have longed these years to tell into your living ears. Sirach! Alas, I have found him too late. My thanks, good lady, to all in this house that such a man came to no want in his last days." Agathocles noted the surprise upon his son's face, and, looking anxiously from one to another, asked: "Did Sirach ever tell his story in this house?" "We know his story," replied Deborah. "Never was man more faithful to man than this man has been." Agathocles took from her words more than she had meant. "O Gideon! Gideon! why were not your lips stricken dumb before they had uttered it?" He shook the dead body in anger. "Gideon, you gave me my boy. Why did you steal him away from me?" He turned back and paced the court in his excitement. Suddenly he stopped before Dion. "Now I know why you would be a Jew. It was because you knew that you are one. But I swear by all the gods! I swear by the memory of my sweet Agnes! Dion, you are mine. Sirach lied to you. Believe him not. Dion, you are my boy." He held the young man fast as he would some captive seeking to escape. "And ever shall be yours, my father," replied Dion. "Father? Say it again, Dion. That is a sweet word from your lips--sweet as were the kisses of your mother. Swear to me, Dion, that not even Gideon's story shall separate us." "I swear it by Sirach's corpse that you are my father, and ever shall be." "Well, then"--taking Dion's cheeks between his hands--"then believe Sirach. He has spoken the truth."