will be anxious if you are not at home by that time, or perhaps send a
slave to seek you here at my house, and that--that must not be done--I
must prevent it."

"So you are expecting some one," Ledscha eagerly replied. "And I know
who it is. Your son Satabus, or one of your grandsons. Else why are the
ducks cooked? And for what is the wine jar which I just took from its
hiding place?"

A vehement gesture of denial from Tabus contradicted the girl's
conjecture; but directly after she scanned her with a keen, searching
glance, and said: "No, no. We have nothing to fear from you, surely.
Poor Abus! Through him you will always belong to us. In spite of the
Greek, ours you are and ours you will remain. The stars confirm it, and
you have always been faithful to the old woman. You are shrewd and
steadfast. You would have been the right mate for him who was also wise
and firm. Poor, dear, brave boy! But why pity him? Because the salt
waves now flow over him? Fools that we are! There is nothing better
than death, for it is peace. And almost all of them have found it. Of
nine sons and twenty grandsons, only three are left. The others are all
calm after so much conflict and danger. How long ago it is since seven
perished at once! The last three their turn will come too. How I envy
them that best of blessings, only may they not also go before me!"

Here she lowered her voice, and in a scarcely audible whisper murmured:
"You shall know it. My son Satabus, with his brave boys Hanno and
Labaja, are coming later in the evening. About midnight--if ye protect
them, ye powers above--they will be with me. And you, child, I know your
soul to its inmost depths. Before you would betray the last of Abus's
kindred--"