"My lord, what answer canst thou send to Benhadad, king of Syria, save that thou art not God and, therefore, hath not the power to heal the leper?" asked one of the wise men.
The king frowned.
"Thus would I do as Benhadad wisheth—give him pretext to make war upon me," he cried, impatiently. "Thou speaketh with scant wisdom, Mahab. Benhadad knoweth well that it be not in the power of man to heal the leper. But I would temporize with him, not thus openly give him pretext to make war upon Israel."
At that moment one of the king's servants entered and said:
"My lord, a servant of the prophet, Elisha, is without and desireth speech with thee."
"He must seek me later," cried the king, impatiently. "I am engaged at present with the counselors and wise men of my kingdom upon a matter of grave import."
"Pardon thy servant, my lord," persisted the servant, "but this man bid me say that his master hath sent him to speak words of counsel that neither the wise men nor the counselors of thy kingdom could give unto thee."
The king started.
"Ah!" he exclaimed, "now I do remember that this Elisha be a great prophet and a holy man of God. Go, bring hither his servant."
The servant withdrew, returning in few moments with a man simply clad and grave of mien.