setting an arrow to his bow, loosed it at Ithobal
beneath. He was a strong and skilful archer, and the heavy shaft pierced
the golden helmet of the king, cutting his scalp down to the bone.

"That is my answer," cried Aziel, as Ithobal rolled upon the ground
beneath the shock of the blow. But very soon the king was up and crying
his commands from behind the shield-hedge of his captains.

"Let the prince Aziel, and the Jews with him, be taken alive and brought
to me," he shouted. "I will give a great reward in cattle to those who
capture them unharmed; but if any do them hurt, they themselves shall be
put to death."

The captains bowed and issued their orders, and presently Aziel and his
companions saw lines of unarmed men creeping up ladders set at every
side of the lofty tower. Again and again they cast off the ladders, till
at length, being so few, they could stir them no more because of the
weight upon them, but must hack at the heads of the stormers as they
appeared above the parapet, killing them one by one.

In this fashion they slew many, but their arms grew weary at last,
and ever under the eye of their king, the brave savages crept upward,
heedless of death, till, with a shout, they poured over the battlements
and rushed at the little band of Jews.

Now rather than be taken, Aziel sought to throw himself from the tower,
but his companions held him, and thus at last it came about that he was
seized and bound.

As they dragged him to the stairway he looked across the fosse and
saw the mercenaries flying from the inner wall, although it was still
unbreached, and saw the citizens of Zimboe streaming by thousands to the
narrow gateway of the temple fortress.

Then Aziel groaned in his heart and struggled no more, for he knew
that the fate of the ancient town was sealed, and that the prophecy of
Issachar would be fulfilled.

*****

A while later Aziel and those with him, their hands bound behind their
backs, were led by hide ropes tied about their necks through the army of
the Tribes that jeered and spat upon them as they passed, to a tent of
sewn hides on the plain, above which floated the banner of Ithobal. Into
this tent the prince was thrust alone, and there forced upon his knees
by the soldiers who held him. Before him upon a couch covered with a
lion skin lay the great shape of Ithobal, while physicians washed his
wounded scalp.

"Greeting, son of Israel and Pharaoh," he said in a mocking voice;
"t