Presently Sanballat came to the party.
“I am just from the stalls, O sheik,” he said, bowing gravely to Ilderim, who began combing his beard, while his eyes glittered with eager inquiry. “The horses are in perfect condition.”
Ilderim replied simply, “If they are beaten, I pray it be by some other than Messala.”
Turning then to Simonides, Sanballat drew out a tablet, saying, “I bring you also something of interest. I reported, you will remember, the wager concluded with Messala last night, and stated that I left another which, if taken, was to be delivered to me in writing to-day before the race began. Here it is.”
Simonides took the tablet and read the memorandum carefully.
“Yes,” he said, “their emissary came to ask me if you had so much money with me. Keep the tablet close. If you lose, you know where to come; if you win”—his face knit hard—“if you win—ah, friend, see to it! See the signers escape not; hold them to the last shekel. That is what they would with us.”
“Trust me,” replied the purveyor.
“Will you not sit with us?” asked Simonides.
“You are very good,” the other returned; “but if I leave the consul, young Rome yonder will boil over. Peace to you; peace to all.”
At length the recess came to an end.