"That man is a great magnate, Sargon, a relative of King Assar," answered Kama; "he has brought five talents to our goddess."
"And them wilt repay him, Kama?" jeered the heir. "And since he is such a bountiful magnate, the Phoenician gods will not send thee death in punishment."
"What dost Thou say, lord?" exclaimed Kama, clasping her hands. "Dost Thou not know that if an Asiatic found me in the desert he would not lay hands on me, even were I myself to yield to him? They fear the gods."
"Why, then, does he come to thee, this malodorous no this pious
Asiatic?"
"Because he wants to persuade me to go to the temple of Astaroth in
Babylon."
"And wilt Thou go?"
"I will go if Thou command me, lord," said Kama, concealing her face with her veil.
The prince took her hands in silence. His lips quivered.
"Do not touch me, lord," whispered she, with emotion. "Thou art my sovereign, my support, the support of all Phoenicians in this country but have compassion."
The viceroy let her go, and walked up and down through the chamber.