and you can help me to it."

"I! In the name of Baal, how?"

"When do you have to leave the city, Metem?"

"At moonrise on the night after next."

"Then an hour before moonrise I will be in the temple, whither I can
come by the secret way that leads thither from this palace, and he can
enter there, for the little gate shall be left unbarred. Pray him to
meet me, then--for the last time."

"Lady," he urged, "this is but madness, and I refuse. You must find
another messenger."

"Madness or not it is my will, and beware how you thwart me in it,
Metem, for at least I am the Lady Baaltis, and have power to kill
without question. I swear to you that if I do not see him, you shall
never leave this city living."

"A shrewd argument, and to the point," said Metem reflectively. "Well,
I have prepared myself a rock-hewn tomb at Tyre, and do not wish that my
graven sarcophagus of best Egyptian alabaster should be wasted, or sold
to some upstart for a song."

"As assuredly it will be, if you do not obey me in this matter, Metem.
Remember--an hour before moonrise, at the foot of the pillar of El in
the inner court of the temple."

As she spoke Metem started, for his quick ears had caught a sound.

"O Queen divine," he said in a loud voice, as he led the way to the
front of the throne, "you are a hard bargainer! Were there many such, a
poor trader could not make a living. Ah! here is one who knows the
value of such priceless works of art," and he pointed to Mesa, who, with
folded arms and downcast eyes, stood within five paces of the throne,
as near, indeed, as custom allowed her to approach. "Lady," he went on
addressing you, "you will have heard the price I asked; say, now, is it
too much?"

"I have heard nothing, sir. I stand here, waiting the return of my holy
mistress that I may remind her that the hour of sunset prayer is at
hand."

"Would that I had so fair a mentor," exclaimed Metem, "for then I should
lose less time." But to himself he said, "She _has_ heard something,
though I think but little," then added aloud: "Well judge between us,
lady. Is fifty golden shekels too much for these images which have been
blessed and sprinkled with the blood of children by the high priest of
Baal at Sidon?"

Mesa lifted her cold eyes and looked at them. "I think it too much," she
said, "but it is for the lady Baaltis to judge. Who am I that I should
open my lips in the presence of the lady Baaltis?"

"I have appealed to