Then followed a long period of weeping. Like a child, at last he cried himself to sleep.
Late in the day he awoke. He was a changed man. His hair had grown perceptibly whiter. His face was ashen-hued. From middle life he had passed suddenly into senility and imbecility. The terrible excitement had seemingly burned out his brain.
For some days he refused to leave Gebal. When at length he set out, and came to the river Adonis, he was held by some spell from crossing it. As his litter-bearers rested by the bank, he leaped from his carriage, and ran hither and thither, searching with wild eyes into every pool.
He then made them convey him to the coast, where the ruddy waters of the river mingle with the Great Sea. There he paced the shores, wringing his hands, now praying, now cursing. Egbalus and Rubaal were especially the objects of his imprecation.
They brought him to Tyre. He shut himself in his house. For days he was invisible. Captains in the harbor delayed their sailing, awaiting orders from him as the owner of their craft, which orders never came. Merchants from Sidon, with whom he was interested in joint ventures, returned enraged at his neglect of most pressing business.
The first to gain access to him was Hanno. From boyhood Ahimelek had known and liked the genial comrade of young Hiram; and now that he must have some one to speak with, yet feared everybody else, he bethought him of Hanno.
There was something of the old-time welcome of Ahimelek as his guest appeared.
"Enter, my son! my boy, Hanno!" said he, throwing his arms affectionately about the stalwart young man. Then he looked at the dignified form, the serious face of the visitor, and, as if suddenly recollecting himself, made profound obeisance, remaining with head bowed for a moment.
"My Lord Hanno! priest of Astarte, to be high priest of Baal-Melkarth! I worship your presence."
"Simple Hanno, if you will," was the reassuring reply.