“Right, most reverend pontiff. But I seek no fugitive criminal. In performance of my duties I pursue one of his Majesty’s runaway slaves, who can claim no right of sanctuary.”
“A slave of the king? Where? We will never shelter such!” And Imbi stared about in well-affected astonishment.
Mermaza fumbled in his bosom, and produced a small clay cylinder, which he handed to Imbi, bestowing at the same moment a gleeful leer upon Ruth.
“His Majesty’s own seal—read.”
The pontiff read aloud deliberately:—
“Belshazzar, ‘King of Sumer and Akkad,’ to Mermaza, ‘Master of the Eunuchs’: You are commanded at the first convenient season to seize, and take to the royal harem, a certain maid, one Ruth, the daughter of Daniel the Hebrew. And hereof do not fail, on peril of your head.”
Imbi examined the document the second time, and handed it back to the eunuch with a salaam of ironical reverence.
“Noble friend,” quoth he, with mock politeness, “explain, I pray you. In what part of this warrant does his Majesty command you to set at naught the right of sanctuary, and commit gross sacrilege?”
But Mermaza, beneath whose veneer of urbanity lay a hasty and arrogant temper, answered with rising gorge:—