"It is monstrous!" cried Hiram. "I would risk my crown to wipe out our shame; for the crown will not be worth keeping if I am to be king of a horde of devils and strumpets."
"And I pledge my wealth and life to help you," replied Hanno. "Except your own wealth, and that of Ahimelek—which the gods grant may come safely to your house!—my resources are, perhaps, the greatest in Tyre. But we must be cautious."
"No, no, Hanno! King Hiram will never take a shekel of his friend's riches to gild his own glory."
"But I am prime-minister, you know, and may do what I please," replied his friend, laughing. "But this is not resting you. Shall we give these steersmen a lesson?"
Two long oars rigged one on either side of the keel-line at the stern served as rudders. They were joined by a brace at the handles, by which they could be connected or disconnected, and thus be worked by one person in quiet water, but needed the strength of two in heavy seas, or in putting the bireme through rapid manœuvres. Two brawny fellows were manning them, as the wind was rising. The brace of helmsmen, doffing their caps, gave place to the king and his companion.
"Quicker!" shouted Hiram to the master of the oarsmen, whose hands beat out the gradually accelerating time, until the sixty blades cut the water as the wings of a kingfisher cut the air. The wind still freshening, they set the great square sail. Soon they tacked far to the north, and, rounding to the west, crossed the bows of the bireme of Herodotus.
"The king! the king!" shouted the sailors on the Dido, as they recognized the well-known forms at the helm.
And "Hanno! Hanno! Hanno!" was given with equal enthusiasm.
All the oar-blades of the Dido were lifted from the water as the Dolphin dashed past. On the high stern stood the venerable Herodotus, his head uncovered, and his noble brow white and shining like an aureole, in contrast with his bronzed lower face and dark beard. He held aloft a goblet of wine, and shouted, as the Dolphin flew by: