"It might not be possible. The interest of the state of Tyre may be one thing; the interest of Hiram another."
"That's treason, Hanno."
"Hang me to the masthead, then," replied Hanno; "for I am going to stick to Hiram, whatever becomes of the king."
"You think of me as a crab that may shed the shell of royalty some day," replied Hiram, laughing. "Well, I confess that if it were not for the claws of power, which I rather like the pleasure of using, I would let my shell go to-morrow. But I must pinch off the heads of some of the priests first. Thus—"
As he spoke the king took from a shelf just beneath the prow a half-dozen little clay images, uncouth figures representing the Cabeiri, the gods which were supposed to preside over the arts and navigation. He broke off their heads, and threw them into the sea.
"One day, Hanno, we shall throw overboard all such trumpery from the state of Tyre. That's what I told the council to-day."
"Told the council? That was a bold speech," replied the captain, his face flushing and paling with sudden emotion.
"And an unwise one, I know from your look," said Hiram.
"Ay, and dangerous! May I take the liberty of cautioning you, my king?"