"As to letting you free, that's not my concern; that depends upon Captain Mago; no one but the captain gives orders; you should sue to him."
At a hint from me that he should allow the Assyrian room to breathe, Bichri removed his feet to the ground, but without relaxing his hold upon his beard or lifting the knife from his throat. Belesys was breathing heavily; his face was pale; his forehead moist with a cold sweat; there was no doubt about his being sober now; and he piteously asked for our captain to speak to him. Without waiting for me, Himilco began to jeer him.
"Ah! you would like to see the old scarecrow, would you? and here am I, too, the one-eyed rascal; it is a long way to come, all round Libya, to cut your throat, but it is quite worth the trouble if it teaches you that you shouldn't get drunk all by yourself."
And snatching the goblet from one of the cup-bearers he drained it off, and pitched the empty cup at the nose of the general.
"Gently," I said, and laid my hand upon the irascible pilot. "Belesys is mistaken altogether; he did not understand that we were conveying presents to his King."
The Assyrian gave so violent a start that his neck was actually grazed by Bichri's knife. He was beginning to bawl out something about his illustrious sovereign Belochus II., when I admonished him that he had better not speak so loud, a warning that Bichri enforced by tightening his grasp upon his throat.
"I was but jesting; you should take a joke," he gasped. "Only tell your young man to loose his hold upon my throat, and I swear by the almighty Nisroch, I will not hurt a hair of your heads. Can you not trust me now?"
"Not quite," I answered, smiling.
It was now my turn to assume the tone of irony, and with mock reverence I turned to him and said: