"I will," the soldier replied with a smile.
"You will, indeed!" Phradates echoed. "And who are you?"
"My name is Alexander," the soldier said.
Phradates turned to the crowd, which had fallen back a little and now stood strangely silent.
"Who is this insolent fellow?" he cried. "Why do you allow him to interfere here?" he demanded of the captain.
The captain made no reply, and nobody in the throng ventured to answer. Phradates felt deserted. He stood with Chares and the soldier beside the gold-laden scales, beyond which waited Maia, with her eyes fixed upon the face of the newcomer.
"Is there no fair dealing in this land of thieves?" Phradates cried, losing his temper absolutely. "The girl is mine! Deliver her to me in accordance with your agreement and let me go. You have your price and it is enough!"
He made a step forward as though to seize Maia, but the soldier blocked his path.
"I am Alexander, as I told you," he said, slightly raising his voice. "I will tell you more. You are Phradates of Tyre, sent here by your king and your Council to spy out my strength and learn my plans. You have used the eyes and ears of your slaves. Take what you have learned to King Azemilcus, and with it take also this message: Alexander, King of Macedon, sends word that he is coming with his companions to offer sacrifice to Heracles in his temple, known in the city of Tyre as the temple of Melkarth. Let him prepare the altar."
Phradates read in the faces of the crowd that the youth who spoke so confidently to him was indeed the king. Nevertheless, he could not wholly stifle his rage.