Kishra still shook his head and withdrew his robe, retreating through the garden, while the Syrian followed after him.
"What, then?" she pleaded, and sighed in hope to see him pause.
For a moment he pondered, then, leaning forward till she felt his breath upon her cheek, he whispered, hoarsely:
Once more she started, yet controlled her voice, answering in a tone of wonderment:
"A leathern sack of gems? In truth I know naught of it. As Bêlit liveth, your words are the words of foolishness."
"True," grinned Kishra; "no treasure is hidden on the river bank, nor is there a garden-seat before our eyes, nor a fish pond near at hand where a man may hide his body beneath the scum and harken unto whisperings."
At his taunting speech Semiramis raised her fist as if to dash it in his evil face, then let it fall beside her, while she sank upon the garden seat in bitter tears. The eunuch for a space stood silent, for well he knew the value of a bridled tongue, so he waited for her heart to battle with her mind and conquer it.
"Give me this sack," he said at length, "and thy runner shall go unharmed."
"Nay," sobbed Semiramis, "a purse--no more."
"A half," urged Kishra, but she shook her head, again repeating her offer of the purse.
"A third. Think, mistress, vast riches will be left to thee, and a third is little." She made no answer, and a light of cunning crept into his eyes. "All might I have if I willed to serve thee ill, for I know the spot on the river bank where--"
The Syrian once more faced him, trembling in her wrath.
"No eye save mine can find the hiding place, though it sought till the sun is cold. Who, then, shall point the way for thieves?" She laughed derisively. "Shall I, Shammuramat, go forth--disguised, perchance, as some kitchen wench--at the heels of a sexless beast? Nay, not till Nineveh hath rotted from the plain!" Again she laughed and snapped her scornful fingers in the eunuch's face. "Safe by the river my treasure lieth--a treasure for which the King might barter half his power--yet not one gem shall fall into your grasp. Go out and hunt the Tigris, from the mountains to the sea. Dig! and may Gibil damn you for a fool!"
She drew her robe aside, as though she passed some thing of pestilence, and strode away, while Kishra came pattering meekly after her. His avarice had over-shot the mark, and failure gnawed his bowels with the teeth of fear.