"Hear me, Kama. Soon to the bay of Sebenico will come a Greek ship, commanded by my brother. Make the high priest send thee to Pi-Uto; we shall flee thence to northern Greece, to a place which has never yet seen a Phœnician--" "It will see them if I hide there," interrupted the priestess. "Should a hair fall from thy head," whispered the raging Greek, "I swear that Dagon, that all the Phœnicians here will lose their heads, or die in the stone quarries. They will learn what a Greek can do." "But I say to thee," answered Kama, in the same tone, "that until I collect twenty talents I will not leave here. I have now only eight." "Where wilt thou get the other twelve?" "Sargon and the viceroy will give them." "I will let Sargon give, but not the prince." "Foolish Lykon, dost thou not know why that stripling pleases me a little? He reminds me of thee--" The Greek was perfectly quieted. "Well, well," muttered he, "I understand that when a woman has the choice between the heir to the throne and a man with my voice I have no need to tremble. But I am jealous and violent, so I beg thee to let him approach thee as little as possible." He kissed her, slipped out of the villa, and vanished in the dark garden. Kama stretched her clinched fist after him. "Worthless buffoon!" whispered she; "thou who art hardly fit to be a singing slave in my mansion." CHAPTER XXXV When Rameses on the following morning visited his son, he found Sarah weeping. He asked what the cause was. She answered at first that nothing troubled her; then she said that she was sad. At last she fell at his feet and cried bitterly. "My lord," whispered she, "I know that thou hast ceased to love me, but at least avoid danger." "Who said that I have ceased to love thee?" asked Rameses, astonished. "Thou hast in thy house three new women--ladies of high family." "Ah, so that is the trouble?" "Besides, thou art exposing thyself for a fourth,--a wicked Phœnician." The prince was confused. Whence could Sarah know of Kama, and know that she was wicked? "As dust squeezes into caskets, so scandals work into the quietest houses," said Rameses. "Who has spoken to thee of a Phœnician?" "Do I know who? My heart and an evil omen." "Then are there omens?" "Terrible. One old priestess learned, I suppose from a crystal ball, that we shall all perish through Phœnicians, especially I and--my son," burst out Sarah. "And thou who believest in One, in Jehovah, fearest the fictions of some stupid old woman who is perhaps intriguing? Where is thy great Deity?" "My God is only mine, but those others are thine; so I must revere them." "Then that old woman spoke to thee of Phœnicians?" asked Rameses.