“I am Joram, son of Saruch, the rope merchant,” came the reply. “My father is again torn by convulsions. Terrible demons are rending him. Hasten! Come and cast them out.”
Gudea put on a professional tone at once.
“Take comfort, excellent youth; you command my best skill. Yet my time is valuable; in justice to my wife I must ask five shekels.”
“Say ten, if only the demons never return.”
“Will you come also, my Khatin?” said Gudea, adjusting his long robes. “You shall see my spells accomplish that of which no Egyptian dreams. And you, wife, hasten home, bring the incense pots, aromatic herbs, cloves, garlic, the wool of a young sheep, and some raw serpent’s flesh. We shall need a powerful exorcism.” And with that Binit went her way, while Khatin followed his friend into the yet busy street.
The young man who had summoned them bore indeed a Jewish name; but, as Gudea explained, he and his father Saruch were men of true worldly wisdom. If they still prayed to Jehovah, they had long since cast off their native bigotry; they brought offerings to the temples, and knew that in times of illness one must run for the wizard. As idlers recognized Gudea, and the whisper spread that he was headed for Saruch’s house, a great crowd followed, for there were few better sights than a skilful incantation. So, with a long train of pedlers, donkey-boys, guardsmen off duty, and their kind, the exorcist came to the dwelling of the rich Jew, beside the quays. The courtyard was open, and soon thronging, but Gudea ostentatiously bade the servants to clear a space and bring forth their master. The convulsions were over for the moment. They laid Saruch, ghastly pale, and scarce conscious, on the cushions in the sunlight of the court. Gudea knelt, blew in his nostrils and ears, and rose with a long face. To the anxious wife and son he announced solemnly:—
“Good people, you have indeed done well to summon me. Nothing less than the ‘Maskim,’ the ‘seven arch-fiends of the deep,’ have entered into the worthy Saruch.” Whereupon all the jostling crowd began to shrink and shiver, though none cried aloud lest the demons quit Saruch and slip down their gaping mouths. But Gudea reassured them pompously. “Be not afraid, excellent friends. The demons are still in Saruch, but I have muttered an infallible spell to control them as they pass out. They will enter no other.” The crowd pressed again nearer.
“Alas, noble wizard,” began the wife, weeping, “can even your skill eject the ‘Maskim’?” Gudea drew himself up, offended.
“Were I another exorcist, perchance you might doubt rightly. But am I not the most notable conjurer in Babylon? Fear nothing; you shall yet see Saruch walking before you, well and happy.”