“What is it, my child?... What hath frightened thee?” asked Solomon.
“Stay, my beloved.... Some one is coming hither.... Yea ... I hear steps.”
She became silent. And the stillness was such that they marked the beating of their hearts.
A slight rustling was heard beyond the door, and it was suddenly thrown ajar, quickly and without a sound.
“Who is there?” cried out Solomon.
But Sulamith had already sprung up from the bed, and with one move dashed toward the dark figure of a man with a gleaming sword in his hand. And immediately, stricken through by a short, quick stroke, she fell down to the floor with a faint cry, as though of wonder.
Solomon shattered with his hand the screen of carnelian that shaded the light of the night-lamp. He beheld Eliab, who was standing near the door, stooping a little over the body of the girl, swaying like one in wine. The young warrior raised his head under Solomon’s gaze, and, when his eyes met the wrathful, awesome eyes of the king, he blanched and groaned. An expression of despair and terror distorted his features. And suddenly, stooping, hiding his face in his mantle, he began timidly, like a frightened jackal, to slink out of the room. But the king stayed him, saying but three words:
“Who compelled thee?”
All a-tremble and with teeth chattering, with eyes grown white from fear, the young warrior let drop dully:
“Queen Astis....”