"And what if I also have a knife?"

"In that case," said Nehushta, "draw it, and we will see which is the
better, man or woman. Merchant, your weapon is your pen. You have not a
chance with me, an Arab of Libya, and you know it."

"Yes," answered Amram, "I think I do; you desert folk are so reckless
and athletic. Also, to be frank, as you may have guessed, I am unarmed.
Now, what do you propose?"

"I propose that you get us safely out of Cæsarea, or, if you prefer it,
that we shall all die here in this grain-store, for, by whatever god you
worship, Phœnician, before a hand is laid upon my mistress or me, this
knife goes through your heart. I owe no love to your people, who bought
me, a king's daughter, as a slave, and I shall be quite happy to close
my account with one of them. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly, perfectly. Why show such temper? The affair is one of
business; let us discuss it in a business spirit. You wish to escape
from Cæsarea; I wish you to escape from my grain-store. Let me go out
and arrange the matter."

"On a plank; not otherwise unless we accompany you," answered Nehushta.
"Man, why do you waste words with us. Listen. This lady is the only
child of Benoni, the great merchant of Tyre. Doubtless you know him?"

"To my cost," replied Amram, with a bow. "Three times has he overreached
me in various bargains."