Although they had been repulsed, the Macedonians returned to their camp, confident that Tyre could not much longer stand against them.

Alexander ordered the sacrifice of a black bull to Phbus. After a careful examination of the entrails, Aristander, the soothsayer, sought the king and spoke to him in private.

"Tyre will fall before the month ends," he said. "Phbus has promised it."

"But the month will end to-morrow," Alexander replied, in astonishment.

"Nevertheless, there can be no doubt," Aristander declared. "To-morrow thou wilt be in possession of the city."

"Let us see what the army thinks," the king returned.

The news soon spread through the camp. Some of the soldiers rejoiced as though the promise had already been fulfilled, while others refused to believe, declaring that the thing was impossible. In order to save the God from discredit, Alexander issued a proclamation extending the month three days beyond its accustomed term. With this the army was satisfied.

Clearchus gave way to an agony of disappointment when he regained consciousness to find himself on the siege boat with the walls of Tyre receding from him. Chares and Leonidas were obliged at first to prevent him by force from throwing himself into the sea. It was only when the Theban reminded him that it was still possible for them to enter the city that he became calmer. He was for seeking the passage through which Joel had emerged as soon as day ended, but the young Israelite convinced him that such an attempt would surely be frustrated. The breach in the wall was only a short distance from the passage and workmen would be engaged there, to say nothing of the guard that would certainly be established. He consented finally to yield to his friends and await the third watch of the night. This delay would permit them to get a few hours of rest.

The sun went down in flaming glory, casting the long shadow of the Tyrian walls across the Macedonian camp. The thin smoke of a thousand fires rose lazily in the quiet The soldiers ceased to recount their escapes in the dreadful breach and stretched themselves on the ground.

Only in Alexander's tent a light continued to glow.

In the middle of the second watch, a small boat crept in from the purple shadows of the sea and grated on the sand. Two men stepped out and turned their faces toward the camp. By their features and dress they were Phnicians. Of the first sentinel they met, they demanded to be led to Alexander, and the reasons they gave caused the captain of the guard to grant their request.

The captain emerged from the king's tent at the end of half an hour and hurried away in the darkness. He brought back with him Clearchus, Chares, Leonidas, Nathan, and Joel. The Theban was rubbing his eyes and yawning over his interrupted slumbers.

"What is all this about?" he grumbled. "Have we not done enough for one day? I wish this cursed city was in the bottom of the sea!"

"It is by the king's order," the captain reminded him.

They found Alexander stretched upon his couch and the two Phnicians seated before him. From the expression of the king's eyes as they sought his, Clearchus knew that something of moment was in his mind, and his pale face brightened.

One of the strangers was Prince Hur, son of King Azemilcus. The young man seemed ill at ease, and his fingers played constantly with the golden chain that he wore as a member of the council. His companion was older and more composed. His lips were thin and his eyes were keen and penetrating.

"Comrades," Alexander said, using the term that endeared him to every soldier in his army, "I have a dangerous service to ask of you. King Azemilcus has dreamed that his city is about to fall, and we know that his dream is true. He has sent his son and his chancellor to us to ask his life, and it has been granted to him. But many things may happen when the blood is hot with fighting, and it is necessary that Macedonians be with him when we enter. Therefore I wish you to go to him and guard him when the time arrives. You may conduct him to the Temple of Melkarth, which will be set aside as a sanctuary.

"It has been promised that you shall pass unharmed into the city and remain there in the palace until I come. If this promise is not kept, Azemilcus and all his family are to be crucified upon the walls as a warning to those who may wish to break faith with Alexander."

The young king looked keenly at the Phnicians. The prince lowered his eyes and moved uneasily.

"There is one thing more," Alexander continued. "If any of you have friends in the city whom you desire to protect, it is made a condition of the safety of Azemilcus that he shall aid you by every means in his power."

He glanced meaningly at Clearchus as he uttered these words, and the young man's heart bounded with renewed hope.

They left the tent in silence. The captain of the guard accompanied them to the boat.

"Azemilcus is betraying his city," Chares whispered.

"We shall save Artemisia and rescue Thais," Clearchus replied, gripping the arm of his friend.

They entered the boat and rowed silently to the Egyptian Harbor. The towering height of the wall swallowed the little craft in its shadow and no sentinel challenged them. They bent their heads as they glided under the great guard-chains that stretched across the entrance of the harbor, and threading their way among the shipping, they reached the landing and disembarked.

Keeping to the left, the chancellor led them toward the palace. More than once they were forced to step aside to avoid the heaps of ruins that told of the work done by the ballistae. As they advanced, the great bulk of the palace rose before them above the wall, to which it was joined and of which it formed a part. As they advanced, the chancellor was careful to keep in the deepest shadow, and his hand shook as he fitted the key into a small door in the palace wall.

"We are safe!" he said to the prince as the door closed behind them.

"Very well," the young man replied, yawning; "I am going to bed."

He turned abruptly into a lateral passage and disappeared. The chancellor seemed in doubt for a moment whether to call him back, but he decided to let him go.

"Follow me," he said to the Macedonians.

They groped their way upward after him along a winding stair that seemed to be built into the city wall. This slow progress continued for many minutes without a glimmer of light until they reached what appeared to be a windowless chamber. There the chancellor left them, bidding them wait until he had notified the king of their arrival.

He was absent so long that Leonidas began to grow uneasy. He found the chamber destitute of furniture and without doors save that by which they had entered and that by which the chancellor had left them. Both were now secured. This had been accomplished without attracting their attention and it added to their uneasiness.

"We are like owls in a cage," Nathan said. "We can do nothing but wait."

"I do not like it," Leonidas replied.

"Nonsense," Chares remarked. "They brought us here for a purpose and we are of more use to them alive than dead. Do you suppose that Azemilcus is anxious to be crucified?"

"Perhaps not," the Spartan replied, "but it maybe that he has changed his mind. If he does not send for us soon, I think we had better try the door."

Clearchus said nothing, but he paced impatiently back and forth across the narrow room, pausing at every sound. The night was passing and the hour for the sacrifice to Moloch was drawing nearer. Shut up in the palace, they would be powerless to save Artemisia. The moments seemed hours to him. At last he could bear the suspense no longer.

"We should never have permitted the chancellor to leave us!" he said, and, striding to the door, he began to beat upon it with the hilt of his sword until the metal of which it was composed rang like a bell.

There was no response. The others joined him, raising a tumult loud enough to be heard throughout the palace, but even then some time elapsed before the bars were removed and the door swung open. The chancellor had returned alone, his face white and scared in the flickering light of the lamp that he had set upon the stone floor while he worked at the bars.

"Silence, or we are all lost!" he whispered imploringly, taking up the lamp with a hand that trembled so that the oil spilled upon the floor.

"Do you want to invite death?"

"Don't talk to us of silence!" bellowed Chares, threatening the old man with his sword. "What do you mean by shutting us up here? You have yet to learn that it is not wise to keep the soldiers of Alexander waiting. Take us to your king."

"Yes, yes!" muttered the chancellor with chattering teeth. "Follow me; but in the name of Baal keep silence! I fear they have heard you already."

"Little I care if they have, whoever they are," the Theban exclaimed, stalking after the chancellor, sword in hand. "If you try any more of your tricks, your head goes off like a chicken's."

They made several turns in the passage, ascended a last short flight of steps, and came to a second door, which their guide pushed open. They followed him into a large room, hung with woven tapestries, carpeted with silken rugs, and strewn with luxurious divans. It was on the southern side of the palace, with windows that looked out across the wall toward the sea. The light of the lamps was already yielding to the gray dawn which silvered the surface of the water.

With his back to the window stood Azemilcus, king of the doomed city.

His thin white hair straggled from under a close-fitting cap to the diamond collar which encircled his wrinkled throat. A gorgeous robe of crimson hid his shrunken figure. He looked old and feeble, but his eyes were as bright as jewels set in the head of a mummy.

"Welcome, gentlemen!" he said quietly, stretching forth a wasted hand toward Chares, who was striding toward him with anger in his face. "I must ask your pardon for your detention; but we are prisoners here, like yourselves."

Astonishment halted the Theban, who stood staring at the king as though he had not heard aright. Clearchus stepped forward.

"What do you mean? Who has made you a prisoner?" he asked sharply.

The small king smiled with irony on his lips.

"I fear it can be only the prince, my son," he replied.