The attendants did not pause to look at the high priest, for before them stood King Hiram, his hand upon the back of the throne. His familiar voice, sharp in its taunting sarcasm, rang through the pavilion—
"Lo! I have come forth, O priest of Baal!"
The great councillors of state climbed out of the balcony in which they were seated, and scrambled with the baser crowd to get away from the dreadful apparition. Men trod upon one another like a frightened herd. Heads, legs and arms, trumpets, banners, swords, and sandals made a confused mass of what a moment before had been as dignified an assembly as ever king or pontiff had looked upon. The prepared places of egress were not sufficient for the fleeing crowd, who tore away the canvas sides of the pavilion, and broke its cords, until the mighty canopy hung awry as if struck by a hurricane.
But the dominant passion of a crowd is curiosity. Many would risk an annihilating glance from the eyes of the god if only in return they could see what he looks like. Therefore, some, withdrawing a few paces, turned again to face the awful mystery. The soldiers from Persia, Samaria, and Galilee seemed not to have been sufficiently informed to have any fear, and, obeying a quick command which Hanno gave them through their officers, ranked deep about the dais to protect it.
A sharp hissing sound went like a flying serpent through the air, and an arrow, shot by some one in the crowd, glanced clanging from the arm of the throne. In another moment the thundering tramp of the squadron of Persian horse shook the earth as they dashed around the pavilion, sweeping priests and people into every open way, or trampling them beneath the hoofs.
The square was cleared. The priests fled towards the temple. Thither the soldiers pursued them, halting and penning them in the great court, until further orders should come.
At the same time heralds flew everywhere throughout the city, crying, "King Hiram has returned! Down with the villainy of the priests!" Great placards were posted on the doors of the government-house and on the corners of the streets, detailing in few words the facts.
In little groups, or one by one, the more venturous or the less credulous of the people re-entered the pavilion. Hiram had taken his throne. There was no mistaking his person. He wore the conical cap with the uræus, the scarf across his bare breast, the short chiton and heavy sandals, by which his form was familiar to even the boys as well as to the great councillors of Tyre.
As Hiram gazed at the returning people an old man came tottering to the foot of the dais. He threw himself upon the lowest step. He was Ahimelek.