Talbot Mundy

“ Plainly there should be no secrets told in Herod's presence. Tros stared at Herod hard, but the old Jew's brilliant eyes met his without a quiver.
"How did you obtain my letter?" he demanded.
"My friend," Herod answered in an unexpectedly firm, business-like voice, "you are lucky it fell into my hands. I took it straight to Simon, who keeps his house like a castle. There are not so many who could get to Simon at such an hour and, believe me or not, there are fewer who would not have gone straight to the Romans with the news that Tros of Samothrace is so near Gades!" ”

“ We forsake the god of our forefathers. Too late, we find ourselves forsaken. Adonai! I am undone!"
"But I not!" Tros retorted. "I am not a Jew, so your god has no quarrel with me. Tell me more concerning Pkauchios."
"He has a hold on Balbus, through his sorceries. He knows that Balbus owes me a million sesterces. He knows I need the money. He knows Balbus would like to indict me for something or other in order to confiscate my wealth, such as it is—such as it is. I have a thousand slaves I can't sell, some millions I can't collect! ”

“ Am I to lose it, Simon? And you so old! You'll never have time to grow rich again before you die, unless we help you! How shall we do it?"
Tros seemed to know. He reached for pen and ink and set them down in front of Herod. Then he clipped a scrap of parchment from a roll.
"Write!" he commanded. "To the people you refer to as your young men. Bid them release to Chloe, the slave of Pkauchios my two men from whom you took that letter. Add that secret business will detain you. They are not to be troubled on your account. They are not to go to Balbus." ”

“ He will tear up his own promises to pay. Cæsar's too for the sake of Cæsar's favor—and crucify me!"
"On a great—big—tree!" said Herod, laying both hands on his knees and smiling cruelly. "You would better tell Simon why you sent for him and make your proposal, whatever! it is, and let us all three consider it. I am a man of business. Offer me business or my young men will be at Balbus' door at dawn. Before he has bathed himself he will have sent his guards to Simon's warehouse, where they will find the weapons in bales and bags and barrels. ”

“ I grow old. I needed money. Tros, I had sent much money to Jerusalem for the rebuilding of the Temple. Aie-yaie, but will it ever be rebuilt!It was rebuilt several years later by Herod, the Great. Pkauchios swore that when Balbus is slain his debt to me shall be paid at once out of the treasury. I let him use my warehouse. And then Herod's spies! Ach-h-h! Herod came to me tonight with your letter in his hand. He would not say where or how he had obtained it. He said, 'What does Tros of Samothrace require of you? Tros is a pirate, proclaimed by Cæsar, as all know. ”

“ With a smile he will pay, if he has an audience. With a smile and a gesture that calls attention to his magnanimity and modesty and sense of justice! But a letter, opened by his secretary, read to him, perhaps, in a tent at night, when his steward has told him of a nice, young, pretty matron washed and combed and waiting to be brought to him—Tshay-yeh-yeh ! None but a Jew, but a Jew—would have let him have three million sesterces!"
Tros tried to appear sympathetic. He leaned out of his chair and patted Simon on the shoulder. ”

“ Any time. Dead men can't talk. So you see, if I don't return pretty soon from Simon's house, my young men will go straight to Balbus. I tell you, I can't stop it unless—"
"I'll drown you unless my men return!" Tros interrupted. "You may send a messenger ashore—"
"I'll go!" said Chloe's voice, and even Tros was startled. Simon nearly screamed.
She stepped out from the dark and Simon stared uncomfortably at her, looked like a man caught naked in the bath for all that he wore so many clothes and she so few. Herod ben Mordecai recovered from surprize and found speech first. ”

“ He answered, he would give permission gladly, only that Tros of Samothrace, the pirate proscribed by Cæsar, is at sea and might capture the whole consignment, for which he, Balbus, would be blamed. Bah! So much for my influence! He let Euripides, the Greek export a hundred women only last week, and that was since Cæsar's letter came. Pirates! What he fears is a rising market! He knows I need money. He knows I have a thousand Lusitanii that I bought for export. At his suggestion, too. I bought them at his suggestion! Tros, it costs money to feed a thousand slaves! ”