"Be silent!" screamed Rabsun, in anger; and he grasped the hilt of his dagger. "Thou art as dull as a dog barking in sleep."
"Why is he angry, that that dealer in bones?" inquired Dagon; and he reached for his knife also.
"Quiet! Concord!" said the gray-headed prince; and he dropped his lean hand to his girdle.
For a while the nostrils of all three men were quivering and their eyes flashing. At last Hiram, who calmed himself first, began again, as if nothing had happened.
"A couple of months ago, in Asarhadon's inn, lodged a certain Phut from the city of Harran."
"He had to receive five talents from some priest," interrupted Dagon.
"What further?" asked Hiram.
"Nothing. He found favor with a certain priestess, and at her advice went to seek his debtor in Thebes."
"Thou hast the mind of a child and the talkativeness of a woman," said Hiram. "This Harran man is not from Harran at all. He is a Chaldean, and his name is not Phut, but Beroes."
"Beroes? Beroes?" repeated Dagon, trying to remember. "I have heard that name in some place."