"Put them under the care of the god of the land, then. I can arrange that matter as priest of Astarte with the priests of Jehovah."
"Will you deal with me truly?" said Ahimelek.
"As truly as Baal lives."
"Swear it."
Hanno stood out in the centre of the room, where a sunbeam fell through the bronze-latticed window. With the light on his face, he kissed his hand to the sun—the customary oath before Baal, the sun-god.
The old man opened the bronze box. But as his eyes caught the lustre of the gems, he closed it again and sat upon it, asking Hanno a hundred questions, and taking from him again and again the oath before Baal, invoking curses of Baal-Hiram and Zillah, and every ghost and jinn that ever walked the earth, upon his proving false or allowing the gems to go to any other than their rightful owner.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
As Hanno, under the terebinth of Ben Yusef, narrated the substance of all this to Hiram and Zillah, he bade them feel the tough leathern suit, like that of a Phœnician soldier, in which he had disguised himself. The stiffness of the leather served to hide its uneven thickness, for its lining was quilted in tiny blocks, each of which was nubbed with some precious stone, or padded to protect some delicate setting or cluster of gems. He twisted a bit of iron from the end of his sword-hilt, and poured out a handful of diamonds. He mimicked the tricksters who draw pearls from various parts of their bodies, except that he left the pearls and emeralds and rubies in the hand of Zillah, and possessed no power of the wizard to make them vanish. He grew hilarious.