All, however, seemed to be of no avail, and Wenamon decided to get away as best he could.  His worldly goods were quietly transferred to the ship which was bound for the Nile; and, when night had fallen, with Amon-of-the-Road tucked under his arm, he hurried along the deserted quay.  Suddenly out of the darkness there appeared a group of figures, and Wenamon found himself confronted by the stalwart harbour-master and his police.  Now, indeed, he gave himself up for lost.  The image would be taken from him, and no longer would he have the alternative of leaving the harbour.  He must have groaned aloud as he stood there in the black night, with the cold sea wind threatening to tear the covers from the treasure under his arm.  His surprise, therefore, was unbounded when the harbour-master addressed him in the following words:  “Remain until morning here near the prince.”

The Egyptian turned upon him fiercely.  “Are you not the man who came to me every day saying, “Get out of my harbour?” he cried.  “And now are you not saying, ‘Remain in Byblos?’ your object being to let this ship which I have found depart for Egypt without me, so that you may come to me again and say, ‘Go away.’”

The harbour-master in reality had been ordered to detain Wenamon for quite another reason.  On the previous day, while the prince was sacrificing to his gods, one of the noble youths in his train, who had probably seen the colour of Wenamon’s debens, suddenly broke into a religious frenzy, and so continued all that day, and far into the night, calling incessantly upon those around him to go and fetch the envoy of Amon-Ra and the sacred image.  Prince Zakar-Baal had considered it prudent to obey this apparently divine command, and had sent the harbour-master to prevent Wenamon’s departure.  Finding, however, that the Egyptian was determined to board the ship, the official sent a messenger to the prince, who replied with an order to the skipper of the vessel to remain that night in harbour.

Upon the following morning a deputation, evidently friendly, waited on Wenamon, and urged him to come to the palace, which he finally did, incidentally attending on his way the morning service which was being celebrated upon the sea-shore.  “I found the prince,” writes Wenamon in his report, “sitting in his upper chamber, leaning his back against a window, while the waves of the Great Syrian Sea beat against the wall below.  I said to him, ‘The mercy of Amon be with you!’ He said to me, ‘How long is it from now since you left the abode of Amon?’ I replied, ‘Five months and one day from now.’”

The prince then said, “Look now, if what you say is true, where is the writing of Amon which should be in your hand?  Where is the letter of the High Priest of Amon which should be in your hand?”

“I gave them to Nesubanebded,” replied Wenamon.