"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 Phoenicia," continued he, sobbing.
"Set has seized thee, O Dagon," laughed the heir. "Couldst Thou believe that I thought of expelling thy Phoenicians?"
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.