Moreover, it is nought to me what he thinks, for he hates me, and has
reviled me."
Metem lifted his eyebrows incredulously and went on: "Still, I will not
deprive you of this woman's gear. Look now, I value it, and at no high
figure," and drawing out his writer's palette and a slip of papyrus, he
wrote upon it an acknowledgment of debt, which he asked her to sign.
"This document, lady," he said, "I will present to your father--or your
husband--at a convenient season, nor do I fear that either of them
will refuse to honour it. And now I take my leave, for you--have an
appointment to keep--and," he added with emphasis, "the time of moonrise
is at hand."
"Your meaning, I pray you?" she asked. "I have no appointment at
moonrise, or at any other hour."
Metem bowed politely, but in a fashion which showed that he put no faith
in her words.
"Again I ask your meaning, merchant," she said, "for your dark hintings
are scarcely to be borne."
The Phoenician looked at her; there was a ring of truth in her voice.
"Lady," he said, "will you indeed deny, after I have seen it written by
yourself, that within some few minutes you meet the prince Aziel beneath
a great tree in the palace gardens, there--so said the scroll--to ask
his aid in this matter of the suit of Ithobal?"
"Written by myself?" she said wonderingly. "Meet the prince Aziel
beneath a tree in the palace gardens? Never have I thought of it.
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