me by what names I shall make
known to him you whose rank seems to be so high?"

"Lady, I am Metem the Phoenician, captain of the merchandise of the
caravan of Hiram, King of Tyre, and this lord who slew the thief is none
other than the prince Aziel, the twice royal, for he is grandson to
the glorious King of Israel, and through his mother of the blood of the
Pharaohs of Egypt."

"And yet he risked his life to save me," the girl murmured astonished;
then dropping to her knees before Aziel, she touched the ground with
her forehead in obeisance, giving him thanks, and praising him after the
fashion of the East.

"Rise, lady," he broke in, "because I chance to be a prince I have not
ceased to be a man, and no man could have seen you in such a plight
without striking a blow on your behalf."

"No," added Metem, "none; that is, as you happen to be noble and young
and lovely. Had you been old and ugly and humble, then the black man
might have carried you from here to Tyre ere I risked my neck to stop
him, or for the matter of that, although he will deny it, the prince
either."

"Men do not often show their hearts so clearly," she answered with
sarcasm. "But now, lords, I will guide you to the city before more harm
befalls us, for this dead man may have companions."

"Our mules are here, lady; will you not ride mine?" asked Aziel.

"I thank you, Prince, but my feet will carry me."

"And so will mine," said Aziel, ceasing from a prolonged and fruitless
effort to loosen his sword from the breast-bone of the savage, "on such
paths they are safer than any beasts. Friend, will you lead my mule with
yours?"

"Ay, Prince," grumbled Metem, "for so the world goes with the old; you
take the fair lady for company and I a she-ass. Well, of the two give me
the ass which is more safe and does not chatter."

Then they started, Aziel leaving his short sword in the keeping of the
dead man.

"How are you named, lady?" he said presently, adding "or rather I need
not ask; you are Elissa, the daughter of Sakon, Governor of Zimboe, are
you not?"

"I am so called, though how you know it I cannot guess."

"I heard you name yourself, lady, in the prayer you made before the
altar."

"You heard my prayer, Prince?" she said starting. "Do you not know that
it is death to that man who hearkens to the prayer of a priestess
of Baaltis, uttered in her holy grove? Still, none know it save the
goddess, who sees all, therefore I beseech you fo