"Is this true?" asked the prince, looking him in the eyes.
The old man put his hand on his heart.
"I swear to thee, O heir to the throne of Egypt and future pharaoh, that if Thou begin at any time a struggle with our common enemy, Phoenicia will hasten as one man to assist thee. But receive this as a reminder of our conversation."
He drew from beneath his robe a gold medal covered with mysterious characters, and, muttering a prayer, hung it on the neck of Prince Ramses.
"With this amulet," continued Hiram, "Thou mayst travel the whole world through, and if Thou meet a Phoenician he will serve thee with advice, with gold, with his sword even. But now let us go."
Some hours had passed since sunset, but the night was clear, for the moon had risen. The terrible heat of the day had yielded to coolness. In the pure air was floating no longer that gray dust which bit the eyes and poisoned respiration. In the blue sky here and there twinkled stars which were lost in the deluge of moonbeams.
Movement had stopped on the streets, but the roofs of all the houses were filled with people occupied in amusement. Pi-Bast seemed from edge to edge to be one hall filled with music, singing, laughter, and the sound of goblets.
The prince and the Phoenician went speedily to the suburbs, choosing the less lighted sides of the streets. Still, people feasting on terraces saw them at intervals, and invited them up, or cast flowers down on their heads.
"Hei, ye strollers!" cried they, from the roofs. "If ye are not thieves called out by the night to snatch booty, come hither, come up to us. We have good wine and gladsome women."
The two wanderers made no answer to those hospitable invitations; they hurried on in their own way. At last they came to a quarter where the houses were fewer, the gardens more frequent, the trees, thanks to damp sea-breezes, more luxuriant and higher than in the southern provinces of Egypt.