Wenamon raised his head, “Surely you see these birds which descend on Egypt,” he groaned.  “Look at them!  They have come into the harbour, and how long shall I be left forsaken here?  Truly you see those who have come to arrest me.”

With these words one must suppose that Wenamon returned to his weeping, for he says in his report that the sympathetic secretary went off to find the prince in order that some plan of action might be formulated.  When the news was reported to Zakar-Baal, he too began to lament; for the whole affair was menacing and ugly.  Looking out of the window he saw the Sicilian ships anchored as a barrier across the mouth of the harbour, he saw the logs of cedar-wood strewn over the beach, he saw the writhing figure of Wenamon pouring sand and dust upon his head and drumming feebly with his toes; and his royal heart was moved with pity for the misfortunes of the Egyptian.

[Illustration:  PL.  XIII.  A festival scene of singers and dancers from a
                         tomb-painting of Dynasty XVII. 
                         —­THEBES]

[Copied by H. Petrie.

Hastily speaking to his secretary, he told him to procure two large jars of wine and a ram, and to give them to Wenamon on the chance that they might stop the noise of his lamentations.  The secretary and his servants procured these things from the kitchen, and, tottering down with them to the envoy, placed them by his side.  Wenamon, however, merely glanced at them in a sickly manner, and then buried his head once more.  The failure must have been observed from the window of the palace, for the prince sent another servant flying off for a popular Egyptian lady of no reputation, who happened to be living just then at Byblos in the capacity of a dancing-girl.  Presently she minced into the room, very much elated, no doubt, at this indication of the royal favour.  The prince at once ordered her to hasten down on to the beach to comfort her countryman.  “Sing to him,” he said.  “Don’t let his heart feel apprehension.”

Wenamon seemed to have waved the girl aside, and we may picture the prince making urgent signs to the lady from his window to renew her efforts.  The moans of the miserable man, however, did not cease, and the prince had recourse to a third device.  This time he sent a servant to Wenamon with a message of calm assurance.  “Eat and drink,” he said, “and let not your heart feel apprehension.  You shall hear all that I have to say in the morning.”  At this Wenamon roused himself, and, wiping his eyes, consented to be led back to his rooms, ever turning, no doubt, to cast nervous glances in the direction of the silent ships of Dor.

On the following morning the prince sent for the leaders of the Sicilians and asked them for what reason they had come to Byblos.  They replied that they had come in search of Wenamon, who had robbed some of their countrymen of thirty-one debens of silver.  The prince was placed in a difficult position, for he was desirous to avoid giving offence either to Dor or to Egypt from whence he now expected further payment; but he managed to pass out on to clearer ground by means of a simple stratagem.