Gisgo and Hannibal clutched at the bottle together.
"Nay, nay, my friends," cried Ethbaal; "do not be fighting for the wine. I have plenty more. My cargo is all wine which I am carrying to Ophir."
"Could you not take me with you?" asked Himilco eagerly; "my services are quite at your disposal."
CHAPTER XXI.
THE QUEEN OF SHEBA.
As soon as the wind dropped, we submitted ourselves to Ethbaal's instructions as to the direction in which we ought to steer, and taking his gaoul into tow, we proceeded on our course to Ophir.
When evening came we found that by Ethbaal's orders a true Phœnician banquet had been prepared on the stern of the Ashtoreth: cheese, olives, figs, raisins, and a double allowance of wine were served out to the men; and we ourselves took our seats upon brilliant carpets that had replaced the worn-out rags with which we had been so long familiar, and for the first time for months, nay, years, enjoyed the viands of Tyre and Sidon, and quaffed the wines of Byblos and Arvad.
Our spirits rose to the occasion, and I should hesitate to say how many times I filled and refilled my wine-cup before I began to recount the adventures which Ethbaal was anxious to hear.
My story lasted far on into the night.