"Thou wouldst prefer that she were thine," sneered Dagon. "She can even cease to be high priestess when it is necessary to bring her near the court." "Thou speakest truth," said Hiram. "But that is sacrilege!" said Rabsun, indignantly. "And the priestess who commits it is to die," said the gray-haired Hiram. "If only that Jewess, Sarah, does not hinder," added Dagon, after a moment of silence. "She is waiting for a child to which the prince is attached already. If a son is born, all our plans may be thwarted." "We shall have money for Sarah too," added Hiram. "She will take nothing!" burst out Dagon. "That pitiful creature has refused gold and a precious goblet, which I carried to her." "She did, for she thought that Thou hadst the wish to deceive her," remarked Rabsun. Hiram nodded. "There is no cause for trouble," said he. "Where gold has not power, then the father, the mother, or the mistress may have it. And if the mistress is powerless, there is still." "The knife," hissed Rabsun. "Poison," whispered Dagon. "A knife is a very rude weapon," concluded Hiram. He stroked his beard, thought awhile; at last he rose, took from his bosom a purple ribbon on which were fastened three golden amulets with a portrait of the goddess Astaroth. He drew from his girdle a knife, cut the ribbon into three parts, and gave two of these with the amulets to Dagon and Rabsun. Then all three went to the middle of the room to the corner where stood a winged statue of the goddess; they put their hands on the statue, and Hiram repeated in a low voice, but clearly, "To thee, Mother of Life, we swear faithfully to observe our agreements, and not to rest till the sacred places be secure from enemies, may they be destroyed by hunger, fire, and pestilence. "And should one of us fail in his obligations, or betray a secret, may all calamities and disgrace fall on him! May hunger twist his entrails, and sleep flee from his bloodshot eyes! May the hand of the man wither who hastens to him with rescue and pities him in his misery! May the bread on his table turn into rottenness, and the wine into stinking juice! May his children die out, and his house be filled with bastards who will spit on him and expel him! May he die groaning through many days in loneliness, and may neither earth nor water receive his vile carcass, may no fire burn it, no wild beasts devour it!" "Thus let it be!" After this terrible oath, which Hiram began, and the second half of which all shouted forth in voices trembling from rage, the three panting Phoenicians rested. After that Rabsun conducted them to a feast where with wine, music, and dancers they forgot for a time the work awaiting them. CHAPTER XXVI Not far from the city of Pi-Bast stood the temple of the goddess Hator.