"Do not thank me, Prince; I am a merchant, and now, as in the past, I
protect you, knowing that for it I shall be paid. The governor will give
me a rich reward when I lead you to him safely, and when in years to
come I return with you still safe to the court of Jerusalem, then the
great king will fill my ship's hold with gifts."

"That depends, Metem," replied the prince. "If my grandfather still
reigns it may be so, but he is very old, and if my uncle wears his
crown, then I am not sure. Truly you Phoenicians love money. Would you,
then, sell me for gold also, Metem?"

"I said not so, Prince, though even friendship has its price----"

"Among your people, Metem?"

"Among all people, Prince. You reproach us with loving money; well,
we do, since money gives everything for which men strive--honour, and
place, and comfort, and the friendship of kings."

"It cannot give you love, Metem."

The Phoenician laughed contemptuously. "Love! with gold I will buy as
much of it as I need. Are there no slaves upon the market, and no free
women who desire ornaments and ease and the purple of Tyre? You are
young, Prince, to say that gold cannot buy us love."

"And you, Metem, who are growing old, do not understand what I mean by
love, nor will I stay to explain it to you, for were my words as wise
as Solomon's, still you would not understand. At the least your money
cannot bring you the blessing of Heaven, nor the welfare of your spirit