en, and art about
to taste my salt, ought not to forbid a question: Who art thou?"

"Sheik Ilderim," said Ben-Hur, calmly enduring his gaze, "I pray
thee not to think me trifling with thy just demand; but was there
never a time in thy life when to answer such a question would have
been a crime to thyself?"

"By the splendor of Solomon, yes!" Ilderim answered. "Betrayal of
self is at times as base as the betrayal of a tribe."

"Thanks, thanks, good sheik!" Ben-Hur exclaimed.

"Never answer became thee better. Now I know thou cost but seek
assurance to justify the trust I have come to ask, and that such
assurance is of more interest to thee than the affairs of my poor
life."

The sheik in his turn bowed, and Ben-Hur hastened to pursue his
advantage.

"So it please thee then," he said, "first, I am not a Roman, as the
name given thee as mine implieth."

Ilderim clasped the beard overflowing his breast, and gazed at the
speaker with eyes faintly twinkling through the shade of the heavy
close-drawn brows.

"In the next place," Ben-Hur continued, "I am an Israelite of the
tribe of Judah."

The sheik raised his brows a little.

"Nor that merely. Sheik, I am a Jew with a grievance against Rome
compared with which thine is not more than a child's trouble."

The old man combed his beard with nervous haste, and let fall his
brows until even the twinkle of the eyes went out.

"Still further: I swear to thee, Sheik Ilderim--I swear by the
covenant the Lord made with my fathers--so thou but give me the
revenge I seek, the money and the glory of the race shall be thine."

Ilderim's brows relaxed; his head arose; his face began to beam;
and it was almost possible to see the satisfaction taking possession
of him.

"Enough!" he said. "If at the roots of thy tongue there is a lie
in coil, Solomon himself had not been safe against thee. That thou
art not a Roman--that as a Jew thou hast a grievance against Rome,
and revenge to compass, I believe; and on that score enough. But as
to thy skill. What experience hast thou in racing with chariots?
And the horses--canst thou make them creatures of thy will?--to
know thee? to come at call? to go, if thou sayest it, to the last
extreme of breath and strength? and then, in the perishing moment,
out of the depths of thy life thrill them to one exertion the
mightiest of all? The gift, my son, is not to every one. Ah,
by the splendor of God! I knew a king who governed millions
of