"How! my father seriously ill, the priests are praying for him, but tell me nothing?" "They say that the illness of his holiness may last a year." "Oh, thou hearest fables and art disturbing me. Better tell me about the Phœnicians." "I have heard," said Tutmosis, "only what every one has heard,--that while in the temple thou wert convinced of the harm done by Phœnicians, and didst bind thyself to expel them." "In the temple?" repeated the heir. "But who knows what that is of which I convinced myself in the temple, and what I decided to do?" Tutmosis shrugged his shoulders, and was silent. "Was there treason, too, in the temple?" thought the prince. "Summon Dagon in every case," said he, aloud. "I must know the source of these lies, and by the gods, I will end them." "Thou wilt do well, for all Egypt is frightened. Even to-day there is no one to lend money, and if those reports continue all commerce will cease. Our aristocracy have fallen into trouble from which none see the issue, and even thy court is in want. A month hence the same thing may happen in the palace of his holiness--" "Silence!" interrupted the prince, "and call Dagon this moment." Tutmosis ran out, but the banker appeared no earlier than evening. Around a white mantle he wore a black belt. "Hast thou gone mad?" cried the heir, at sight of this. "I will drive off thy sadness immediately. I need a hundred talents at once. Go, and show thyself not till thou bring them." The banker covered his face and wept. "What does this mean?" asked the prince, quickly. "Lord," exclaimed Dagon, as he fell on his knees, "seize all my property, sell me and my family. Take everything, even our lives--but a hundred talents--where could I find wealth like that? Neither in Egypt nor Phœnicia," continued he, sobbing. "Set has seized thee, O Dagon," laughed the heir. "Couldst thou believe that I thought of expelling thy Phœnicians?" The banker fell at the prince's feet a second time. "I know nothing--I am a common merchant, and thy slave--as many days as there are between the new and the full moon would suffice to make dust of me and spittle of my property." "But explain what this means," said the prince, again impatient. "I cannot explain anything, and even were I able I have a great seal on my lips--I do nothing now but pray and lament." "Do the Phœnicians pray also?" thought the prince. "Unable to render any service," continued Dagon, "I will give good counsel at least. There is here in Pi-Bast a renowned Syrian, Prince Hiram, an old man, wise and tremendously wealthy. Summon him, Erpatr, ask of him a hundred talents; perhaps he will be able to gratify thee." Since Rameses could get no explanations from the banker, he dismissed him, and promised to send an embassy to Hiram. CHAPTER XXX Next day Tutmosis, with a great suite of officers and attendants, paid a visit to the Phœnician prince, and invited him to the viceroy.