Tell me, Metem, for you know this place of old, does there
stand in the palace garden a great fig tree with five roots?"
"Yes, Prince; at least such a tree used to grow there when last I
visited this country. It was one of the wonders of the town, because of
its size. What of it?"
"Little, except that I must be under it at moonrise. See and read, since
whatever you may say of yourself, you are, I think, no traitor."
"Not if I am well paid to keep counsel, Prince," Metem answered with a
smile. Then he read the scroll.
"I am glad that the noble lady brings an attendant with her," he said as
he returned it, with a bow. "The gossips of Zimboe are censorious, and
might misinterpret this moonlight meeting, as indeed would Sakon and
Issachar. Well, doves will coo and maids will woo, and unless I can make
money out of it the affair is none of mine."
"Have I not told you that there is no question of wooing?" asked the
prince angrily. "I go only to give her what counsel I can in the
matter of the suit of this savage, Ithobal. The lady Elissa and I have
quarrelled beyond repair over that accursed sacrifice----"
"Which her ready wit prevented," put in Metem.
"But I promised last night that I would help her if I could," the prince
went on, "and I always keep my word."
"I understand, Prince. Well, since you turn from the lady, whose name
with yours is so much in men's mouths just now, doubtless you will give
her wise counsel, namely, to wed Ithobal, and lift the shadow of war
from this city.
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