"A fine stone," he said at last, divided between the delight of a connoisseur and the wish to beat down the price. "There is a little flaw in it, it looks dull and greenish in one place, but it is a lovely thing all the same. It's from Amon's treasury, isn't it? Did you steal it?"
"What next, uncle! I am not a thief. Holy father gave it to me."
"Oh, what for? Though indeed there are all sorts of fools in the world—some give presents for nothing. How much do you want for it?"
"Nothing, only get me the pass."
The old man's eyes glittered, he examined the stone again, and even tried it with his tongue and teeth; then he stroked his beard with a quick, as it were, thievish movement, and lifting an eyebrow and screwing up one eye, said giving back the stone:
"Look here, my son, don't sleep in the town to-night: there will be a search. The chief of the guards, Mahu, has got wind of something and is looking for the Nut-Amon rebels. Spend the night in the Goats' cave above Sheol; Naaman will take you there. If I procure the pass I will come there before midnight, and if I don't it will mean things have gone wrong—then save yourself and run away."
Issachar handed him the stone once more, but he did not take it.
"No, I will not take it in advance. Payment is due when the goods are delivered. I am an honest merchant."
He was speaking the truth—he was honest; an honest man and a rogue at the same time, after the manner of Abraham.
"I am sorry for you, my red-haired boy!" he said quietly, with an old man's benignity. "Your brother Eliav has perished for nothing; mind the same thing does not happen to you.... Remember, my son: man is born to suffering as a spark flies upward, and yet the sight of the sun is sweet to the living; a living dog is better than a dead lion."