His gaunt frame was clad in sackcloth, and his long white hair and beard were blown in the wind. He walked erect, without the aid of the staff which he carried in his hand. There was an air of authority and even of majesty in his bearing. The men and women nearest to him fell upon their knees and stretched their hands toward him in supplication.

He did not glance at them and he seemed not to hear their prayers. His stern eyes swept the market-place and he spoke in a resonant voice that rose above the tumult and caused it to die away.

"Why do ye lament, men of Israel?" he cried. "Cease now your weeping and rejoice. For Tyre is fallen! Her hour is come!"

"It is Pethuel, chief priest of the synagogue," Joel whispered to Nathan, who was watching the old man with glowing eyes.

"Hearken unto me, O ye of little faith!" Pethuel continued, and the silence spread until his words could be heard throughout the square.

"The worshipper of idols is cast down. The day of clouds and thick darkness is at hand. Lo! they waxed a strong and a mighty people. The cities of the world feared them, and their ships followed the trackless wastes of the sea. There was none like to them in their greatness.

"Unto some they said, 'Go!' and unto others they said, 'Come!' Verily, their strength was like that of the lion, and they rejoiced in their vessels of gold and silver. It seemed to them that there would be no ending.

"And lo! the end is upon them. They are cast down; their walls are overthrown, and their city is become a place of desolation. Thus saith the Lord God unto me, His servant, that I may tell it to my people and bid them rejoice!

"He has delivered them out of the hands of their enemies as a bird from the net of the fowler. I said unto the Lord, 'Behold, the city of abominations hath laid her hand upon Thy servants! In the olden time, did she spoil Israel and Juda and the pleasant valleys, wasting them with fire and sword. Then did Thy vengeance fall upon her, until of her strong walls not one stone remained upon another. But now she presseth sore upon Thy people; wherefore help us, O Lord!'

"Hear ye, men of Israel! Out of the darkness came a Voice like the rushing of a mighty wind and the sound of many waters, and it filled mine ears, saying: 'I am the Lord God of Hosts. Inasmuch as ye have been faithful unto Me and have bowed not before the work of man's hands, therefore will I hearken unto you. She has sown the wind, and she shall reap the whirlwind. Her fortresses and her strong places shall be spoiled. The weak shall perish with the strong, and the mighty shall not deliver himself. I will give her daughters to ruin and her children shall be wanderers among the nations. This will I do for My people, that they be not put to scorn. Say to them: "Take each man his sword and let him slay; for who shall withstand the wrath of the Most High?"'"

To Nathan it seemed that the veil that separates the seen from the unseen had been rent away. The voice that rang in his ears was no longer the voice of Pethuel, but that of his Maker. He felt himself lifted up beyond the region of doubt, and a great gladness filled his heart.

Pethuel paused before him and looked at him with a gaze that pierced him through like fire. The old man raised his staff and touched him on the shoulder. It seemed to Nathan an act of consecration.

"Lead thou them!" Pethuel cried in a loud voice. "It is the command of the Lord, thy God."

A compelling Power, greater than himself, seized upon the young Israelite. He no longer had any volition of his own. He became an instrument.

"Follow me, men of Israel!" he shouted, drawing his sword. "Jehovah gives the heathen into our hands!"

The hush was broken, and a great cry went up from the densely packed market-place. With one impulse, the crowd fell upon the soldiers and priests who still remained in the square, the greater part having already retreated toward the Temple of Baal-Moloch. The Phnicians, greatly outnumbered, were able to make but a brief resistance. Nathan sprang forward and cut down the nearest soldier. In the rush that followed him, the guard was swept away, scattered, and destroyed singly. A score of children were rescued. The priests were trampled to the earth and torn limb from limb. The square resounded with savage cries. The Israelites had been roused to frenzy. The word of God was upon them.

"To the temple!" Nathan shouted. The cry ran through the mob which surged into the narrow streets leading to the shrine of Baal-Moloch, bearing down all before it. The frightened priests heard it coming and sent messengers to the walls, demanding succor. Azemilcus ordered soldiers to be detached to quell the disturbance, and the defence of the city was still further weakened.

The fighting in the streets became desperate. The Israelites scattered and, by circuitous routes, pressed toward the temple. They mounted to the roofs, hurling all kinds of missiles from a great height upon the heads of the guards. The rain fell in blinding sheets. It seemed to the Tyrians that the entire Hebrew population of the city had suddenly gone mad. Ties of association were forgotten, and men who had been friends for years struggled for each other's lives.

The tumult spread in every direction. The soldiers were forced to fall back and form a ring of defence around the temple. Even then, they had much ado to hold the crowd at bay, for the Israelites charged against them without ceasing, recklessly throwing away their lives upon the hedge of steel.

Great stones dropped from the sky continually. Friend and foe were crushed beneath them. When they struck the walls of the houses, they left gaping fissures through which the interior could be seen. They came from the engines upon the Macedonian ships that were renewing the attack upon the city.

CHAPTER XLV

MOLOCH CLAIMS HIS SACRIFICE

Artemisia and Thais looked from their window at the scud of flying clouds and beneath them the Macedonian fleet assembling south of the city. Thais' eyes danced with excitement, and Artemisia's cheeks were flushed.

"This time we shall win!" Thais exclaimed, throwing her arms about her companion. "You are beautiful this morning, Artemisia; Clearchus will be pleased with you."

The color in Artemisia's cheeks deepened and a happy smile parted her lips.

"I shall make him leave the army," she said. "Of course I am proud of his bravery; but, after all, there are better things than to be always killing other men."

She raised her chin with a charming affectation of pride. "He is an Athenian, you know," she added.

Thais frowned. She found in Artemisia's words an implied reflection upon Chares.

"Don't be silly," she replied. "Do you want to make him one of those curled idiots who spend their time in company with philosophers, chasing shadows or trying to find out why crabs walk sidewise? You would wake up some day and find that one of them had proved to him that there is no such thing as love. Or perhaps you would rather have him a dandy, with race-horses and a score of dancing girls to amuse himself with! Let him be a man, Artemisia; let him love you and fight his enemies with all his heart. For my part, if Chares talks of deserting Alexander, he may look elsewhere for some one to love him; for I shall not."

Artemisia listened to this outburst; but she shook her head, and a soft light shone in her eyes.

"You want power and splendor," she said "but I would rather be alone with Clearchus in a desert than sit beside him upon the throne of Darius. I will have no rival in his heart."

"And with half a dozen children around you," Thais said scornfully.

"You might as well complete the picture."

"Yes," Artemisia answered bravely, though she blushed as she said it, "if the Gods permit it; and if the first is a boy, he shall be named Chares."

Thais turned swiftly and kissed her, all her anger gone in a moment.

"There, sister, I did not mean it," she said. "May the Gods give us both our hearts' desire!"

She clapped her hands, and the tiring women who had been awaiting the summons entered.

"Give me my saffron chiton," she cried, "and my topaz necklace. We shall have visitors to-day, girls."

She seated herself before a large mirror while the women dressed her hair and robed her as she had directed. They could not hide their admiration when their task was finished and she stood before them like a living image of gold.

But Artemisia chose a linen robe of pure white, unrelieved by color.

The spotless purity of her dress set off the delicate flush upon her cheeks and the soft brown of her hair.

So eager were the young women that they were scarcely able to taste the fruit and cakes that the servants set before them. They kept jumping up and running to the window to see what progress the Macedonian fleet was making, and whether the attack had begun.

"What a storm!" Artemisia exclaimed. "I wish it would stop; it hides the ships."

"Zeus is fighting on our side to-day," Thais replied gayly, as a long growl of thunder shook the walls of the house. "Tell me, what is going on in the city?" she added, turning to a Cretan maiden among the women.

The girl was beautiful in face and figure, although her expression was one of sadness. She had once ruled as favorite of Phradates, and it was whispered in the household that she still loved him, in spite of the fact that she had had a score of successors since her brief day of ascendency.

"They are preparing a sacrifice to Baal-Moloch," she replied, "in the hope of persuading him to aid them."

"What is this sacrifice? I have never seen one," Thais asked.

"I do not know," the girl said. "There has been none since I came to Tyre."

"I know, mistress," another of the women volunteered. She was a Syrian, with a supple figure and bright black eyes, who had been a slave from her infancy.

"Describe it, then," Thais said.

"Baal-Moloch is the most powerful God in the world," the woman said volubly. "His image is made of iron, and is terrible to look upon."

She shivered as she spoke. "I never saw it but once, and that was when the Babylonian king threatened to make war upon us. We offered sacrifice to prevent it, and Moloch would not permit him to come. The priests went about the city and took the children--even the little babies--and carried them away to the temple. When the doors were opened, we could see Baal sitting there in the darkness. There was a fire inside of him, and his eyes glowed at us. He reached his hands down, and the priests gave him the children, one by one, and he lifted them up and devoured them. It was awful to think of those little children!"