"Hold!" cried Hanno. "This is no time for madness, but for cool heads. The sacrifice cannot be for some days yet. Time breeds opportunities. Let us watch!"
"For what?" cried the king, burying his head in his hands.
Nearly an hour passed in silence, broken at length by Hanno:
"Egbalus has made a prediction that, so powerful is the will of Baal, the god will send the spirit of holy zeal into every heart in Tyre; that the very rays of the sun-god to-morrow will inspire all they fall upon with such acquiescence that every one would gladly take the place of the sacrifice. As I came in here, only a moment before you, a herald was running across the square, crying, 'The king consents! The king consents! Praised be Baal!' The lying devil of a priest has already perjured his soul with that counterfeit of the royal word."
"Ay, I did consent."
Hiram then related to Hanno the scene at the house of Ahimelek, where, under misapprehension of its full import, he had approved the sacrificial celebration.
"It is well, then," said Hanno. "Why not seem to verify the high priest's interpretation of your assent? Apparently yield. It will divert suspicion from any plan we might adopt."
The young men talked through the entire night, and in the early dawn Captain Hanno, disguised as a market vender, was let out the great gate with a good volley of curses from old Goliab, the porter.