On the marble floors were spread rugs, beautifully wrought in colours, while here and there stood couches, tables and stools, fashioned for the most part of ebony from Libya, inlaid with ivory and pearl.
Benoni, the owner of all this wealth, having finished his business for that day--the taking count of a shipload of merchandise which had reached him from Egypt--had eaten his midday meal and now sought his couch under the portico to rest a while in the sun.

Reclining on the cushions, soon he was asleep; but it would seem that his dreams were unhappy--at the least he turned from side to side muttering and moving his hands.

At last he sat up with a start.
"Oh, Rachel, Rachel!" he moaned, "why will you haunt my sleep?
Oh! my child, my child, have I not suffered enough?
Must you bring my sin back to me in this fashion?
May I not shut my eyes even here in the sunlight and be at peace a while?
What have you to tell me that you come thus often to stand here so strengthless and so still?
Nay, it is not you; it is my sin that wears your shape!" and Benoni hid his face in his hands, rocking himself to and fro and moaning aloud.
Presently he sprang up.

"It was no sin," he said, "it was a righteous act.

I offered her to the outraged majesty of Jehovah, as Abraham, our father, would have offered Isaac, but the curse of that false prophet is upon me and mine.