At length, when the third day passed, the lover clasped a collar of gold on Habal's neck and whispered into his ear; but Habal looked into his face, bewildered, for he did not understand.
"_Shammuramat!_" cried Menon, sharply, and the glad beast sprang upon him, whimpering in his joy. The door was opened. Habal, barking, bounded through, to burn the earth with the beat of his flying paws. Yet on the crest of a distant hill he stopped, looked back and barked again, then disappeared. And the lover, watching, understood--and smiled.
So Habal found his mistress, as she drooped in the doorway of her father's home, and overturned her in the pure delight of coming into his own. He fawned upon her, yelping out his love aloud; he muzzled her, caressing with paw and tongue, to prove devotion far deeper in its purity than aught a mortal holds on the altar of his heart.
Semiramis, too, was glad at her dog's return, for she took him in her arms, and, weeping strangely, hid her face on his shaggy breast; but when she saw the collar Habal wore, her fury boiled afresh. She tore it from his neck and gave it to a beggar who had wandered into Ascalon.
The beggar took the trinket gratefully, then hobbled away as fast as his legs might carry him, though ever and anon he cast a glance behind, in the manner of one who marvels and may not understand. Now whether this persistent turning brought good or evil, is a matter hidden in the beggar's soul alone, for, presently, a horse came tearing down the wind, while a wild-haired girl leaned low upon its neck, augmenting speed with frantic voice and heel. She came upon the wanderer suddenly, reining in her steed till it reared upon its haunches, pawing at the air, its mouth stretched wide, its nostrils red and quivering. Then the girl dismounted, demanding back her gift.
The beggar protested, and, muttering, turned away, but she menaced him with her hunting spear, and of a certainty would have pinned him to the earth had he not obeyed. Slowly he produced the golden collar from his pouch and tossed it at her feet.
"Hound!" cried Semiramis, "pick it up and give it in my hand!" Again her spear was poised, so the beggar stooped to do her bidding hastily; then, while this fiery hawkling rode away, he lingered, gazing after her in loose-jawed wonderment.