"We, lord, have paid that man bountifully because he is so like thee.
We thought that his figure might serve thee should the need come."
"And it has," interrupted the prince. "Where is he? I wish to see this perfect singer, this living picture of myself."
Hiram held his hands apart.
"The scoundrel has fled, but we will find him," replied he, "unless he turns into a fly or an earthworm."
"But Thou wilt forgive me, lord?" whispered the priestess, leaning on the knees of the prince.
"Much is forgiven women," said Ramses.
"And ye will not take vengeance on me?" asked she of Hiram, with fear.
"Phoenicia," replied the old man, deliberately and with emphasis, "forgives the greatest offence to that person who possesses the favor of our lord Ramses, may he live through eternity! As to Lykon," added he, turning to the heir, "Thou wilt have him, dead or living."
Hiram made a profound obeisance and went from the chamber, leaving the prince with the priestess.
The blood rushed to Ramses' head; he embraced the kneeling Kama, and asked,