"Poisoned!" he exclaimed, and such a blaze of wrath gleamed in his eye that the old king shrank back.
"So this was your plan for getting rid of us!" the Spartan said.
His grasp tightened about the hilt of his sword, and for an instant he hesitated; but the tramp of the soldiers was close at hand and he reflected that a dead king could not betray Tyre. He sheathed his sword and darted into the passage after his companions. Azemilcus made fast the door behind them and let the draperies fall over it. Then he turned with his mocking smile to face his accusers.
CHAPTER XLIII
THE KING TAKES HIS REVENGE
Azemilcus walked to the window and stood there leaning against the frame. Day was breaking, sullen and gray, in a wrack of flying clouds, and the uneasy moaning of the sea sounded in his ears.
There Hur and Esmun, panting from their long climb, found him standing. The prince carried a drawn sword in his hand and he glanced quickly from side to side as he burst into the room. Behind him came Ariston and a guard of twenty or thirty soldiers, headed by one of the generals of the garrison. Hur had expected to find the Greeks. He saw only his father, leaning wearily in the window. He stood abashed, looking at Esmun as if for advice.
The old king remained motionless until all had entered, and then he turned slowly and faced them. The lines of his countenance, deepened by months of anxiety, told of the strain he had passed through, and his shrunken frame seemed aged and feeble in its magnificent robe of state. His eyes met theirs steadily and frankly, yet with a look of sadness as he gave them his greeting.
"Welcome, my son and gentlemen," he said. "You come early to seek your king; but in these times I know that ceremony must be disregarded. What news do you bring?"