“You were with him at the making of the waxen image?”
“Yes,”—the word came still fainter.
“Now is it not your oath, taken in the name both of the gods of Babylon and of Judea, that Daniel pronounced the name of Saruch above the waxen image?”
But at this instant the witness raised his head, and Daniel looked him in the face. They saw Shaphat’s countenance working in agony; the words were choking in his throat: “I cannot! I cannot!” That was all they could understand.
“Cannot what, knave?” demanded the king, fiercely. But the wretched fellow had cast himself before Daniel, and embraced his knees.
“O master! master!” he groaned, “I cannot lie before your face. I was dismissed justly for my thieving, and only in your mercy did you spare me prison. You are guiltless; Tabni’s tale is all perjury: I never saw him; never saw Binit; you never had the ‘charmer’ in your house. Alas! that I listened to Gudea, and took his money—”
“Silence, hound!” shouted Avil, flinging dignity to every wind, and catching the luckless witness by the scruff; “would you be cut into sandal-leather?”
But a fearful din was rising from the company. Not only the city folk, but the courtiers, were thundering: “Innocent! Innocent! Away with the false witnesses!”
“Silence!” commanded the king, his countenance darkening. “What is this, Avil? What is this witness saying?”
“Your Majesty,” answered Avil, barely heard in the tumult, “you see with your own eyes that Daniel is a sorcerer. While Shaphat came forward, he muttered magic spells to force him to utter falsehood!”