"Peace, good sir! I am not a slave."
Peter chewed his mustache impotently, but the young Essene dropped his Greek and spoke in Hebrew, the language of the synagogue, the true badge of Judaism.
"Perchance we may bargain together. Wouldst have me for hire?"
Peter smoldered in sulky silence.
"I can not serve longer without compensation," Marsyas pursued.
"What sum in hire?" Peter demanded.
"Twenty thousand drachmæ—"
Peter blazed, but Marsyas stopped his invective with a motion.
"Nay, peace! I have not finished. Twenty thousand drachmæ in loan to Agrippa, and I will serve thee gratis till he redeems me by paying the principal and the talent he owes."
The usurer, with a snort, abruptly ordered the slaves to proceed.