The wretched man put his hands on Hanno's shoulders and scanned his face, as if making an effort at recollection.
"I—I knew you when a child, did I not? In this room you have played. With these same old swords and helmets you have played. Hiram and Hanno played, and I—I let them. I never told them not to play."
"Yes, you were a good friend to me and—to Hiram."
"Was I?" said the man, with delight. "And you have not cursed me, as a priest have not cursed me, because I was good to you when a boy? And you will not curse me?"
"No! no! noble Ahimelek! There have been cursings enough. But you sent for me?"
"Ah, yes. I remember. Hanno! priest Hanno!"
He drew his friend to him, and studied his face again, as if half in fear that sudden lightning might flash from it and blast him.
"Hanno! priest Hanno! can you see the gods?"
Hanno hesitated a moment, as if balancing his reply between honesty and some plan he had of using the superstition of Ahimelek, and then replied:
"I have seen all the gods there are."