f goods in every kind of package,
and groups of slaves, stripped to the waist, going about in the
abandon of labor.

Below the bridge lay a fleet of galleys, some loading, others
unloading. A yellow flag blew out from each masthead. From fleet
and wharf, and from ship to ship, the bondmen of traffic passed
in clamorous counter-currents.

Above the bridge, across the river, a wall rose from the water's
edge, over which towered the fanciful cornices and turrets of an
imperial palace, covering every foot of the island spoken of in the
Hebrew's description. But, with all its suggestions, Ben-Hur scarcely
noticed it. Now, at last, he thought to hear of his people--this,
certainly, if Simonides had indeed been his father's slave. But
would the man acknowledge the relation? That would be to give up
his riches and the sovereignty of trade so royally witnessed on
the wharf and river. And what was of still greater consequence
to the merchant, it would be to forego his career in the midst
of amazing success, and yield himself voluntarily once more a
slave. Simple thought of the demand seemed a monstrous audacity.
Stripped of diplomatic address, it was to say, You are my slave;
give me all you have, and--yourself.

Yet Ben-Hur derived strength for the interview from faith in his
rights and the hope uppermost in his heart. If the story to which he
was yielding were true, Simonides belonged to him, with all he had.
For the wealth, be it said in justice, he cared nothing. When he
started to the door determined in mind, it was with a promise to
himself--"Let him tell me of mother and Tirzah, and I will give
him his freedom without account."

He passed boldly into the house.

The interior was that of a vast depot where, in ordered spaces,
and under careful arrangement, goods of every kind were heaped and
pent. Though the light was murky and the air stifling, men moved
about briskly; and in places he saw workmen with saws and hammers
making packages for shipments. Down a path between the piles he
walked slowly, wondering if the man of whose genius there were
here such abounding proofs could have been his father's slave?
If so, to what class had he belonged? If a Jew, was he the son
of a servant? Or was he a debtor or a debtor's son? Or had he
been sentenced and sold for theft? These thoughts, as they passed,
in nowise disturbed the growing respect for the merchant of which
he was each instant more and more conscious. A peculiarit