"I will not weep any longer," said she; but a more abundant stream flowed from her eyes.
"What is this?" asked the prince; "or hast Thou brought in some witch again who frightens thee with Phoenician women?"
"I am not afraid of Phoenician women, but of Phoenicia," said Sarah;
"Thou knowest not, lord, what bad people the Phoenicians are."
"Do they burn children?" laughed Ramses.
"Thou thinkest that they do not?" asked she, looking at him with great eyes.
"A fable! I know, besides, from Prince Hiram, that that is a fable."
"Hiram!" cried Sarah, "Hiram! but he is the most wicked of all! Ask my father, and he will tell thee bow Hiram entices young girls of distant countries to his ships, and raising the sails takes away the unfortunates to sell them. Even we had a bright-haired slave girl stolen by Hiram. She became insane from sorrow for her country. But she could not even say where her country was; and she died. Such is Hiram, such is that vile Dagon, and all those wretches."
"Perhaps; but how does this concern us?" inquired Ramses.
"Very much. Thou, O lord, art listening to Phoenician counsels; but our
Jews have learned that Phoenicia wants to raise a war between Egypt and
Assyria. Even their first bankers and merchants have bound themselves
by dreadful oaths to raise it."
"Why should they want war?" inquired the prince, with apparent indifference.