"What wonder in that?" answered Kush, smiling. "He could find a Phoenician woman in Sidon, but here he prefers an Egyptian. A fool is he who in Cyprus does not taste Cyprus wine, but Tyrian beer."
"But I say," broke in the host, "that that man is dangerous. He seems to be a citizen, though he looks like a priest."
"Thou, Asarhadon, hast the look of a high priest, though Thou art only an innkeeper. A bench does not cease to be a bench, though it has a lion's skin on it."
"But why does he go to priestesses? I would swear that that is a pretence, and that this churlish Hittite, instead of going to a feast with women, is going to some meeting of conspirators."
"Anger and greed have darkened thy reason," answered Kush, with impatience. "Thou art like a man who looking for melons on a fig-tree sees not the figs on it. It is clear to any merchant that if Phut is to collect five talents from a priest he must win favors from all who go around in the sanctuaries. But Thou hast no understanding."
"My heart tells me that this must be an Assyrian ambassador watching to destroy his holiness."
Kush looked with contempt on Asarhadon.
"Watch him, then; follow every step of his. If Thou discover anything, perhaps Thou wilt get some part of his property."
"Oh, now them hast given wise counsel," said the host. "Let that rat go to the priestesses, and from them to places unknown to me. But I will send after him my vision, from which nothing will be secret."