"And what wilt Thou do with him, worthiness?"
"I will reserve him for the supreme council," said Mefres. "When the heir to the throne visits pagan temples and steals from them women, when the country is threatened with danger of war, and the power of the priests with rebellion, Lykon may be of service."
On the following midday the high priest Sem, the nomarch, and the chief of police went to Sarah's prison. The unfortunate woman had not eaten for a number of days, and was so weak that she did not rise from the bench even in presence of so many dignitaries.
"Sarah," said the nomarch, whom she had known before, "we bring thee good news."
"News," repeated she with a pathetic voice. "My son is not living, that is the news; my breast is full of nourishment, but my heart is full of sadness."
"Sarah," said the nomarch, "Thou art free. Thou didst not kill thy child."
Her seemingly dead features revived. She sprang from the bench, and cried,
"I I killed him only I."
"Consider, Sarah, a man killed thy son, a Greek, named Lykon, the lover of the Phoenician Kama."
"What dost Thou say?" whispered she, seizing the nomarch's hands. "Oh, that Phoenician woman! I knew that she would ruin us. But the Greek? I know no Greek. How could my son offend any man?"