At last, with great effort, he collected his thoughts, and said,

"If indeed I have seen a light if indeed some one has closed the doors, I am betrayed. In that case what?"

"Death!" whispered a voice hidden in the bottom of his soul somewhere.

"Death?"

Sweat came out on his face, his breath stopped-. All at once the madness of fear mastered him. He ran through the chamber and struck his fist against the wall, seeking an exit. He forgot where he was and how he had got there; he lost his direction, and even the power of taking bearings with the bead-string.

All at once he felt that in him were two persons, so to speak: one really bewildered, the other wise and self-possessed. This wiseman explained to himself that all might be imagination, that no one had discovered him, that no one was searching, and that he could escape if he would recover somewhat. But the first, the bewildered man, would not listen to the voice of wisdom; on the contrary, he gained on his internal antagonist every moment.

Oh, if he could only hide in some column! Let them seek then Though surely no one would seek, and no one would find him, while self-command would come again to him.

"What can happen to me here?" said he, shrugging his shoulders. "If I calm myself they can chase me through the whole labyrinth. To cut off all the roads there would have to be many thousand persons, and to indicate what cell I am in a miracle would be needed! But let us suppose that they seize me. Then what? I will take this little vial here, put it to my lips, and in one moment I shall flee away so that no one could catch me not even a divinity."

But in spite of reasoning, such terrible fear seized the man again that he put out the torch a second time, and trembling, his teeth chattering, he pushed up to one of the columns.

"How was it possible how could I decide to come in here?" thought Samentu. "Had I not food to eat, a place on which to lay my head? It is a simple thing, I am discovered! The labyrinth has a multitude of overseers as watchful as dogs, and only a child, or an idiot, would think of deceiving them. Property power! Where is the treasure for which it would be worth while for a man to give one day of his life? And here, I, a man in the bloom of existence, have exposed myself."

It seemed to him that he heard heavy knocking. He sprang up and in the depth of the chamber he saw a gleam of light.

Yes! a real gleam of light, not an illusion. At a distant wall, somewhere at the end, stood an open door through which at that moment armed men were coming in carefully with torches.

At sight of this the priest felt a chill in his feet, in his heart, in his head. He doubted no longer that he was not merely discovered, but hunted and surrounded.

Who could have betrayed him? Of course only one man: the young priest of Set, whom he had acquainted minutely enough with his purposes. The traitor, if alone, would have had to look almost a month for the way to the treasure, but if he had agreed with the overseers they might in one day track out Samentu.

At that moment the high priest felt the impressions known only to men who are looking at death face to face. He ceased to fear since his imagined alarms had now vanished before real torches. Not only did he regain self-command, but he felt immensely above everything living. In a short time he would be threatened no longer by danger of any sort.

The thoughts flew through his head with lightning clearness and speed. He took in the whole of his existence: his toils, his perils, his hopes, his ambitions, and all of those seemed to him a trifle. For what would it serve him to be at that moment the pharaoh, or to own every treasure in all kingdoms? They were vanity, dust, and even worse an illusion. Death alone was all-mighty and genuine.

Meanwhile the torch-bearers were examining columns most carefully, and also every corner; they had passed through half the immense hall. Samentu saw even the points of their lances, and noted that the men hesitated and advanced with alarm and repulsion. A few steps behind them was another group of persons to whom one torch gave light. Samentu did not even feel aversion toward them, he was only curious as to who could have betrayed him. But even that point did not concern him overmuch, for incomparably more important then seemed the question: Why must he die, and why had he been brought into existence? For with death present as a fact a whole life-time is shortened into one painful minute even though that life were the longest of all and the richest in experience.

"Why was he alive? For what purpose?"

He was sobered by the voice of one of the armed men,

"There is no one here, and cannot be."

They halted. Samentu felt that he loved those men, and his heart thumped within him.

The second group of persons came up; among them there was a discussion,

"How can even thou, worthiness, suppose that some one has entered?" asked a voice quivering with anger. "All the entrances are guarded, especially now. And even if any one stole in it would be only to die here of hunger."

"But, worthiness, see how this Lykon bears himself," answered another voice. "The sleeping man looks all the time as if he felt an enemy near him.."

"Lykon?" thought Samentu. "Ah, that Greek who is like the pharaoh. What do I see? Mefres has brought him!"

At this moment the sleeping Greek rushed forward and stopped at the column behind which Samentu was hidden. The armed men ran after him, and the gleam of their torches threw light on the dark figure of Samentu.

"Who is here?" cried, with a hoarse voice, the leader.

Samentu stood forth. The sight of him made such a powerful impression that the torch-bearers withdrew. He might have passed out between them, so terrified were they, and no one would have detained him; but the priest thought no longer of rescue.

"Well, has my man with second sight been mistaken?" said Mefres, pointing at his victim. "There is the traitor!"

Samentu approached him with a smile, and said,

"I recognize thee by that cry, Mefres. When Thou canst not be a cheat, Thou art merely an idiot."

Those present were astounded. Samentu spoke with calm irony.

"Though it is true that at this moment Thou art both cheat and fool. A cheat, for Thou art trying to persuade the overseers of the labyrinth that this villain has the gift of second sight; and a fool, for Thou thinkest that they believe thee. Better tell them that in the temple of Ptah there are detailed plans of the labyrinth."

"That is a lie!" cried Mefres.

"Ask those men whom they believe: thee, or me? I am here because I found plans in the temple of Set; Thou hast come by the grace of the immortal Ptah," concluded Samentu, laughing.

"Bind that traitor and liar!" cried Mefres.

Samentu moved back a couple of steps, drew forth quickly from under his garment a vial, and said, while raising it to his lips, "Mefres, Thou wilt be an idiot till death. Thou hast wit only when it is a question of money."

He placed the vial between his lips and fell to the pavement.

The armed men rushed to the priest and raised him, but he had slipped through their fingers already.

"Let him stay here, like others," said the overseer of the labyrinth.

The whole retinue left the hall and closed the open doors carefully. Soon they issued forth from the edifice.

When the worthy Mefres found himself in the court he commanded the priests to make ready the mounted litters, and rode away with the sleeping Lykon to Memphis.

The overseers of the labyrinth, dazed by the uncommon events, looked now at one another, and now at the escort of Mefres, which was disappearing in a yellow dust cloud.

"I cannot believe," said the chief overseer, "that in our days there was a man who could break into the labyrinth."

"Your worthiness forgets that this day there were three such," interrupted one of the younger priests looking askance at him.

"A a true!" answered the high priest. "Have the gods disturbed my reason?" said he, rubbing his forehead and pressing the amulet on his breast.

"And two have fled," added the younger priest.

"Why didst Thou not turn my attention to that in the labyrinth?" burst out the superior.

"I did not know that things would turn out as they have."

"Woe is on my head!" cried the high priest. "Not chief should I be at this edifice, but gatekeeper. We were warned that some one was stealing in, but now we have let out two of the most dangerous, who will bring now whomever it may please them O woe!"

"Thou hast no need, worthiness, to despair," said another priest. "Our law is explicit. Send four or six of our men to Memphis, and provide them with sentences. The rest will be their work."

"I have lost my reason," complained the high priest.

"What has happened is over," interrupted the young priest, with irony. "One thing is certain: that men who not only reach the vaults, but even walk through them as through their own houses, may not live."

"Then select six from our militia."

"Of course! It is necessary to end this," confirmed the overseers.

"Who knows if Mefres did not act in concert with the most worthy Herhor?" whispered some one.

"Enough!" exclaimed the high priest. "If we find Herhor in the labyrinth we will act as the law directs. But to make guesses, or suspect any one is not permitted. Let the secretaries prepare sentences for Mefres and Lykon, Let those chosen hurry after them, and let the militia strengthen the watch. We must also examine the interior of the edifice and discover how Samentu got into it, though I am sure that he will have no followers in the near future."

A couple of hours later six men had set out for Memphis.



CHAPTER LXIV

ON the eighteenth day of Paofi chaos had begun. Communication was interrupted between Lower and Upper Egypt; commerce had ceased; on the Nile moved only boats on guard, the roads were occupied by troops marching toward those cities which contained the most famous temples.

Only the laborers of the priests were at work in the fields. On the estates of nobles and nomarchs, but especially of the pharaoh, flax was unpulled, clover uncut; there was no one to gather in grapes. The common people did nothing but prowl about in bands; they sang, ate, drank, and threatened either priests or Phoenicians. In the cities all shops were closed, and the artisans who had lost their occupation counseled whole days over the reconstruction of Egypt. This offensive spectacle was no novelty, but it appeared in such threatening proportions that the tax-gatherers, and even the judges began to hide, especially as the police treated all offences of common men very mildly.

One thing more deserved attention: the abundance of food and wine. In dramshops and cook houses, especially of the Phoenicians, as well in Memphis as in the provinces, whoso wished might eat and drink what he pleased at a very low price, or for nothing. It was said that his holiness was giving his people a feast which would continue a whole month in every case.

Because of difficult and even interrupted communication the cities were not aware of what was happening in neighboring places. Only the pharaoh, or still better the priests, knew the general condition of the country.

The position was distinguished, first of all, by a break between Upper, or Theban, and Lower, or Memphian Egypt. In Thebes partisans of the priesthood were stronger, in Memphis adherents of the pharaoh. In Thebes people said that Ramses XIII had gone mad, and wished to sell Egypt to Phoenicians; in Memphis they explained that the priests wished to poison the pharaoh and bring in Assyrians. The common people, as well in the north as the south, felt an instinctive attraction toward the pharaoh. But the force of the people was passive and tottering. When an agitator of the government spoke, the people were ready to attack a temple and beat priests, but when a procession appeared they fell on their faces and were timid while listening to accounts of disasters which threatened Egypt in that very month of Paofi.

The terrified nobles and nomarchs had assembled at Memphis to implore the pharaoh for rescue from the rebelling multitude. But since Ramses enjoined on them patience, and did not attack the rabble, the magnates began to take counsel with the adherents of the priesthood.

It is true that Herhor was silent, or enjoined patience also; but other high priests proved to the nobles that Ramses was a maniac, and hinted at the need of deposing him.

In Memphis itself two parties were facing each other. The godless who drank, made an uproar, threw mud at temples and even at statues, and the pious, mainly old men and women who prayed on the streets, prophesied misfortune aloud and implored all the divinities for rescue. The godless committed outrages daily; each day among the pious health returned to some sick man or cripple. But for a wonder neither party, in spite of roused passions, worked harm on the other, and still greater wonder neither party resorted to violence, which came from this, that each was disturbed by direction, and according to plans framed in higher circles.

The pharaoh, not having collected all his troops and all his proofs against the priests, did not give the order yet for a final attack on the temples; the priests seemed waiting for something. It was evident, however, that they did not feel so weak as in the first moments after the voting by delegates. Ramses himself became thoughtful when men reported from every side that people on the lands of the priests did not mix in disturbances at all, but were working.

"What does this mean?" asked the pharaoh of himself. "Do the shaven heads think that I dare not touch temples, or have they means of defense quite unknown to me?"

On the 19th of Paofi a police official informed Ramses that the night before people had begun to break the walls inclosing the temple of Horus.

"Did ye command them to do that?" inquired the pharaoh.

"No. They began of their own accord."

"Restrain them mildly restrain them," said Ramses. "In a few days they may do what they like. But now let them not act with great violence."

Ramses, as a leader and victor at the Soda Lakes, knew that once men attack in a multitude nothing has power to restrain them; they must break or be broken. Unless the temples defend themselves the multitude will take them; but if they defend themselves? In that case the people will flee and there will be need to send warriors, of whom there were many it is true, but not so many as would be needed, according to the' pharaoh's own reckoning. Moreover, Hiram had not returned from Pi-Bast yet with letters proving the treason of Mefres and Herhor. And what was more important, the priests who sided with the pharaoh were to assist the troops only on Paofi 23d. By what means then could he forewarn them in temples which were so numerous and so distant from one another? And did not caution itself command him to avoid relations which might betray them?

For these reasons Ramses did not wish an earlier attack on the temples.

Meanwhile the disturbance increased in spite of the pharaoh. Near the temple of Isis a number of pious persons were slain who predicted misfortune to Egypt, or who had recovered their health by a miracle. Near the temple of Ptah the multitude rushed on a procession, struck down the priests, and broke the holy boat in which the god was advancing. Almost at the same time messengers flew in from the cities of Sochem and Anu with news that people were breaking into the temples, and that in Cheran they had even broken in and desecrated the most holy places.

Toward evening a deputation of priests came, almost by stealth, to the palace of his holiness; the revered prophets fell at his feet, weeping, crying out to him to defend the gods and their sanctuaries.

This altogether unexpected event filled the heart of Ramses with great delight and still greater pride. He commanded the delegates to rise, and answered graciously that his regiments would be always ready to defend the temples when conducted into them.

"I have no doubt," said he, "that the rioters themselves will withdraw when they see the dwellings of the gods occupied by the army."

The delegates hesitated.

"It is known to thee, holiness," answered the chief, "that the army may not enter the enclosure of a temple. We must ask, therefore, what the high priests have to say."

"Very well, take counsel," answered the sovereign. "I cannot perform miracles, and I cannot defend temples from a distance."

The saddened delegates left the pharaoh, who after their departure summoned a confidential council. He was convinced that the priests would yield to his will, and it did not even occur to him that the delegation itself was a trick arranged by Herhor to lead him into error.

When the civil and military officials had assembled in the pharaoh's chamber Ramses began,

"I thought," said he, proudly, "to occupy the temples of Memphis only on the 23d, but I consider it better to do so to-morrow."

"Our troops have not assembled yet," objected Tutmosis.

"And we have not Herhor's letters to Assyria," added the chief scribe.

"Never mind!" answered the pharaoh. "Proclaim tomorrow that Herhor and Mefres are traitors, and we will show the nomarchs and priests the proofs three days later when Hiram returns from Pi-Bast to us."

"Thy new command, holiness, will change the first one greatly," said Tutmosis. "We shall not occupy the labyrinth to-morrow. If the temples in Memphis make bold to resist, we have not even rams to break down the gates."

"Tutmosis," answered the pharaoh, "I might not explain my commands, but I wish to convince thee that my heart estimates the course of events more profoundly. If people attack the temples today they will wish to break into them to-morrow. Unless we support them they will be repulsed, and will be discouraged in every case from deeds of daring. The priests send a delegation today, hence they are weak. Meanwhile the number of their adherents among the common people may be greater some days hence. Enthusiasm and fear are like wine in a pitcher; it decreases in proportion as it is poured out, and only he can drink who puts his goblet under in season. If the people are ready to attack today and the enemy is frightened, let us make use of the situation, for, as I say, luck may leave us in a few days, or may turn against us."

"And provisions will be exhausted," added the treasurer. "In three days the people must return to work, for we shall not have the wherewithal to feed them."

"Oh, seest thou," continued the pharaoh to Tutmosis. "I myself have commanded the chief of police to restrain the people. But it is impossible to restrain them, we must make a movement. An experienced sailor struggles neither with wind nor current, but he lets them bear him in the direction which they have taken."

At this moment a courier came in with news that the people had fallen upon foreigners. They had assaulted Greeks, Assyrians, but especially Phoenicians. They had plundered many shops and slain a number of persons.

"Here is proof," cried the excited pharaoh, "that we should not turn a crowd from the road it has taken. Let the troops be near the temples to-morrow, and let them march in if the people begin to burst into them, or or if they begin to withdraw under pressure.

"It is true that grapes should be gathered in the month Paofi; but is there a gardener, who if his fruit were ripe a month earlier, would leave it on the vines to wither?

"I repeat this: I wished to delay the movement of the people till we had finished preparations. But if it is impossible to delay, let us raise our sails and use the wind which is blowing. Ye must arrest Herhor and Mefres tomorrow and bring them to the palace. In a few days we will finish with the labyrinth."

The members of the council recognized that the decision of the pharaoh was proper, and they departed admiring his promptness and wisdom. Even generals declared that it was better to use the occasion at hand than to have forces ready when the time had passed in which to use them.

It was night. Another courier rushed in from Memphis with information that the police had been able to protect foreigners, but that the people were excited and it was unknown what they might attempt on the morrow.

Thenceforth courier arrived after courier. Some brought news that a great mass of men armed with clubs and axes were moving toward Memphis from every direction. From somewhere else information came that people in the region of Peme, Sochem, and On, were fleeing to the fields and crying that the end of the world would come the day following.

Another courier brought a letter from Hiram that he would arrive very soon. Another announced the stealthy advance of temple regiments to Memphis, and, what was more important, that from Upper Egypt were moving strong divisions of people and troops hostile to the Phoenicians, and even to his holiness.

"Before they arrive," thought the pharaoh, "I shall have the high priests in my hands and even the regiments of Nitager now some days late in arriving."

Finally information was brought that troops had seized here and there on the highways, disguised priests who were trying to reach the palace of his holiness, no doubt with evil purpose.

"Bring them here," answered Ramses, laughing. "I wish to see men who dare to form evil plans against the pharaoh."

About midnight the revered queen, Niort's, desired an audience of his holiness.

The worthy lady was pale and trembling. She commanded the officers to leave the pharaoh's chamber, and when alone with her son she said, weeping,

"My son, I bring thee very bad omens."

"I should prefer, queen, to hear accurate information of the strength and intention of my enemies."

"This evening the statue of the divine Isis in my chapel turned its face to the wall, and water became blood-red in the sacred cistern."

"That proves," replied the pharaoh, "that there are traitors in the palace. But they are not very dangerous if they are able only to defile water and turn statues back forward."

"All our servants," continued the queen, "all the people are convinced that if thy army enters the temples, great misfortune will fall upon Egypt."

"A greater misfortune," said the pharaoh, "is the insolence of the priesthood. Admitted by my ever-living father to the palace, they think today that they have become its owners. But by the gods, what shall I become at last in presence of their all-mightiness? And shall I not be free to claim my rights as a sovereign?"

"At least at least," said the lady after a while, "be gracious. Yes, Thou must claim thy rights, but do not permit thy soldiers to violate holy places and do injustice to the priesthood. Remember that the gracious gods send down delight on Egypt, and the priests in spite of their errors (who is without them) have rendered incomparable services to this country. Only think, if Thou shouldest impoverish and dismiss them, Thou wouldst destroy wisdom which has raised our kingdom above all others."

The pharaoh took his mother by both hands, kissed her, and replied, smiling,

"Women must always exaggerate. Thou art speaking to me, mother, as if I were the chief of wild Hyksos, and not a pharaoh. Do I wish injustice to the priests? Do I hate their wisdom, even such barren wisdom as that of investigating the course of the stars which move in the heavens without our aid, and do not enrich us one uten? Neither their wisdom nor their piety troubles me, but the wretchedness of Egypt, which within is growing weak from hunger, and without is afraid of any threat from Assyria. Meanwhile the priests, in spite of their wisdom, not merely do not wish to help me in my measures, but they present resistance in the most dangerous manner.

"Let me, mother, convince them that not they, but I am the master of my own heritage. I should not be able to take revenge on the submissive, but I will trample on the necks of the insolent.

"They know this, but still do not trust, and with a lack of real power they wish to frighten me by declaring some misfortune. That is their last resource and weapon. When they understand that I do not fear their terrors they will submit. And then not a stone will fall from their temples, or one ring be lost from their treasures.

"I know those men! Today they put on a great front, for I am far from them. But when I stretch out a bronze fist they will fall on their faces, and all this confusion will end in general prosperity and contentment."

The queen embraced his feet and went out comforted, imploring him, however, to respect the gods and spare their servants.

After the departure of his mother he summoned Tutmosis.

"Tomorrow," said the pharaoh, "my troops will occupy the temples. But tell the commanders of regiments, let them know that it is my will, that the holy places must be inviolate, and that no one is to raise a hand on any priest in Egypt."

"Even on Mefres and Herhor?" inquired Tutmosis.

"Even on them. They will be punished enough when they are put out of their present positions; they will live in learned temples to pray and investigate wisdom without hindrance."

"It will be as Thou commandest, holiness though."

Ramses raised his finger in sign that he did not wish to hear arguments. And then, to change the conversation, he said, with a smile,

"Dost Thou remember, Tutmosis, the maneuvers at Pi-Bailos? Two years have passed. When I was angry then at the insolence and greed of the priests, couldst Thou think that I should reckon with them so early? But poor Sarah and my little son. How beautiful he was!"

Two tears rolled down the pharaoh's cheeks.

"Indeed, if I were not a son of the gods, who are magnanimous and merciful, my enemies would pass through grievous hours to-morrow. How many humiliations have they put on me! How often have my eyes grown dark from weeping!"



CHAPTER LXV

ON the 20th of Paofi Memphis looked as it might during a great solemn festival. All occupations had ceased; even carriers were not bearing burdens. The whole population had come out on the streets, or had collected around the temples, mainly around the temple of Ptah, which was the best defended, and where the spiritual dignitaries had come together, also those lay officials who were under the direction of Herhor and Mefres.

Near the temples troops were posted in loose rank, so that the warriors might come to an understanding with the populace.

Among the common people and the army circulated many hucksters, 'with baskets of bread and with pitchers and skin bags in which there was wine. They entertained free of charge. When any one asked them why they took no pay, some answered that his holiness was entertaining his subjects, while others said,

"Eat and drink, right-believing Egyptians, for it is unknown whether we shall see to-morrow!"

These were hucksters in the service of the priesthood.

A multitude of agents were circling about. Some proved to listeners that the priests were rebelling against their lord, and even wanted to poison him, because he had promised the seventh day for rest. Others whispered that the pharaoh had gone mad, and had conspired with foreigners to destroy the temples and Egypt. The first encouraged the people to attack the temples where the priests and nomarchs were arranging to oppress laborers and artisans; the others expressed fear that if the people attacked the temples some great misfortune might fall on them.

Under the walls of Ptah were a number of strong beams, and piles of stones brought, it was unknown from what quarter.

The serious merchants of Memphis, passing among the crowds, had no doubt that the popular disturbance was called forth artificially. Inferior scribes, policemen, overseers of laborers, and disguised decurions denied neither their official positions, nor this, that they were urging the people to occupy the temples. On the other side dissectors, beggars, temple servants and inferior priests, though they wished to conceal their identity, were unable to do so, and each one who was endowed with perception saw that they were urging the people to violence. The thinking citizens of Memphis were astonished at this action of partisans of the priesthood, and the people began to fall away from their zeal of yesterday. Genuine Egyptians could not understand what the question was, or who was really calling forth disturbance. The chaos was increased by half-frenzied zealots, who, running about the streets naked, wounded themselves till the blood flowed, and cried,

"Woe to Egypt! Impiety has passed its measure and the hour of judgment is coming! O gods show your power over the insolence of injustice."

The troops bore themselves calmly, waiting till the people should break into the temples. For an order to that effect had come from the palace; and on the other the officers foresaw ambushes in the temples, and preferred that men of the crowd should perish rather than warriors, who would be sufficiently occupied in every case.

But in spite of the shouts of agitators, and wine given for nothing, the crowd hesitated. Laborers looked at the artisans; the artisans and all were waiting for something.

Suddenly, about one in the afternoon, from side streets a drunken band poured forth toward the temple of Ptah; it was armed with poles and axes and was made up of fishermen, Greek sailors, shepherds, and Libyan vagrants, even convicts from the quarries in Turra. At the head of this band went a laborer of gigantic stature, with a torch in his hand. He stood before the gate of the temple and cried with an immense voice to the people,

"Do ye know, right believers, what the high priests and the nomarchs are preparing here? They wish to force his holiness, Ramses XIII, to deprive laborers of a barley cake a day, and to impose new taxes on the people, a drachma each man. I say, then, that ye are committing a low and stupid deed by standing here with your arms crossed. We must catch these temple rats at last and give them into the hands of our lord, the pharaoh, against whom these godless wretches are conspiring. If our lord yields to priests, who will take the part of honest people?"

"He speaks truth!" called out voices from the multitude.

"Our lord will command to give us the seventh day for rest."

"And will give us land."

"He had compassion always for the common people. Remember how he freed those who, two years ago, were under judgment for attacking the house of the Jewess."

"I myself saw him beat a scribe, when the man was dragging an unjust tax from laborers."

"May he live through eternity, our lord, Ramses XIII, the guardian of oppressed laborers!"

"But look!" called out some voice from afar, "the cattle are coming from pasture, as if evening were near."

"What cattle! Go on against the priests!"

"Hei, ye!" cried the giant at the temple gate. "Open to us of your own will, so that we may know what the high priests and the nomarchs are counseling!"

"Open, or we will break the gate!"

"A wonderful thing," said people from afar; "the birds are going to sleep. But it is only midday."

"Something evil has happened in the air!"

"O gods, night is coming, and I have not pulled salad for dinner," said some girl.

But these remarks were drowned by the uproar of the drunken band, and the noise of beams striking the bronze gate of the temple. If the crowd had been less occupied with the violent deeds of the attackers, they would have seen that something unusual was happening in nature. The sun was shining, there was not one cloud in the sky, and still the brightness of the day had begun to decrease and there was a breath of coolness.

"Give us another beam!" cried the attackers of the temple. "The gate is giving way!"

"Powerfully! Once more!"

The crowd looking on roared like a tempest. Here and there men began to separate from the throng and join the attackers. At last a whole mass of people pushed slowly toward the temple.

Though but just past midday, gloom increased. In the gardens of the temple the cocks began to crow. But the rage of the throng was so great now that few noticed the change.

"Look ye!" cried some beggar. "Behold the day of judgment is coming O gods."

He wished to speak on, but struck on the head by a club he fell prostrate.

On the walls of the temple naked but armed figures began to climb up. Officers called the warriors to arms, certain that soon they would have to support the attack of the multitude.

"What does this mean?" whispered warriors, looking at the sky. "There is not a cloud, still the world looks as it does in the time of a tempest."

"Strike! break!" shouted men near the temple.

The sound of beams was more and more frequent.

At that moment on the terrace above the gate appeared Herhor. He was surrounded by a retinue of priests and civil dignitaries. The most worthy high priest was in a golden robe, and wore the cap of Amenhotep with its regal serpent.

Herhor looked at the enormous masses of people who surrounded the temple, and bending toward the band of stormers, he said to them,

"Whoever ye are, right believers or unbelievers, leave this temple in peace, in the name of the gods I summon you."

The uproar of the people ceased suddenly, and only the pounding of the beams against the bronze gate was audible. But soon even that ceased.

"Open the gate!" cried the giant from below. "We wish to see if ye are forging treason against the pharaoh."

"My son," replied Herhor, "fall on thy face and implore the gods to forgive thee thy sacrilege."

"Ask Thou the gods to shield thee!" cried the leader of the band, and taking a stone he threw it toward the high priest.

At the same time, from a window of the pylon shot out a small stream which seemed to be water, and which struck the giant's face. The bandit tottered, threw up his hands, and fell.

Those nearest him gave out a cry of fear, whereupon the farther ranks, not seeing what had happened, answered with laughter and curses.

"Break down the gate!" was heard from the end of the crowd, and a volley of stones flew in the direction of Herhor and his retinue.

Herhor raised both hands, and when the crowd had grown silent again the high priest shouted,

"O gods! into your protection I give these sacred retreats, against which blasphemers and traitors are advancing!"

A moment later, somewhere above the temple, an unearthly voice was heard,

"I turn my face from the accursed people and may darkness fall on the earth."

Then a dreadful thing happened: as the voice rose the sun decreased, 'and with the last word there was darkness as at night. Stars began to shine in the heavens; instead of the sun was a black disk surrounded with a thin hoop of flame.

An immense cry was rent from a hundred thousand breasts. Those who were storming the gate threw down their beams; common people fell to the earth.

"Oh, the day of punishment and death has come!" cried a shrill voice at the end of the street.

"O gods of mercy! O holy men, ward off this terror!" cried the crowd.

"WOE TO ARMIES WHICH CARRY OUT THE ORDERS OF GODLESS COMMANDERS!" cried a great voice from the temple.

In answer all the people fell on their faces, and confusion rose in the two regiments standing before the temple. The ranks broke, warriors threw down their weapons and ran toward the river insensate. Some, rushing like blind men, knocked against the walls of houses in the darkness; others fell to the ground and were trampled to death by their comrades. In the course of a few minutes, instead of close columns of warriors, on the square, spears and axes lay scattered about, and at the entrance of the streets were piles of dead and wounded.

"O gods! O gods!" groaned and cried the people, "take pity on the innocent."

"Osiris!" cried Herhor from the terrace, "have compassion and show thy face to the unfortunate people."

"AT LAST I HEAR THE PRAYERS OF MY PRIESTS, FOR I AM COMPASSIONATE," answered the supernatural voice from the temple.

At that moment the darkness began to disappear, and the sun to regain its brightness.

A new shout, new weeping, and new prayers were heard in the throng. The people, drunk with delight, greeted the sun which had risen from the dead. Men unknown to one another embraced, some persons died, and all crawled on their knees to kiss the sacred walls of the temple.

Above the gate stood the most worthy Herhor, his eyes fixed on the sky, and two priests supporting his holy hands with which he had dissipated darkness, and saved his people from destruction.

Scenes of the same kind with certain changes took place throughout all Lower Egypt. In each city on the 20th of Paofi people had collected from early morning. In each city about midday some band was storming a sacred gate. About one the high priest of the temple, with a retinue, cursed the faithless attackers and produced darkness. But when the throng fled in panic, or fell on the ground, the high priest prayed to Osiris to show his face, and then the light of day returned to the earth again.

In this way, thanks to the eclipse of the sun, the party of the priests, full of wisdom, had shaken the importance of Ramses XIII in Lower Egypt.

In the course of a few minutes the government of the pharaoh had come, even without knowing it, to the brink of a precipice. Only great wisdom could save it, and an accurate knowledge of the situation. But that was lacking in the pharaoh's palace, where the all-powerful reign of chance had set in at that critical moment.

On the 20th of Paofi his holiness rose exactly at sunrise, and, to be nearer the scene of action, he transferred himself from the main palace to a villa which was hardly an hour's distance from Memphis. On one side of this villa were the barracks of the Asiatic troops, on the other the villa of Tutmosis and his wife, the beautiful Hebron. With their lord came the dignitaries faithful to Ramses, and the first regiment of the guard in which the pharaoh felt unbounded reliance.

Ramses was in perfect humor. He bathed, ate with appetite, and began to hear the reports of couriers who flew in from Memphis every fifteen minutes.

Their reports were monotonous to weariness: The high priests and some of the nomarchs, under the leadership of Herhor and Mefres, had shut themselves up in the temple of Ptah. The army was full of hope, and the people excited. All were blessing the pharaoh, and waiting the order to move on the temple.

When the fourth courier came about nine, and repeated the same words, the pharaoh was frowning.

"What are they waiting for?" asked he. "Let them attack immediately."

The courier answered that the chief band which was to attack and batter down the bronze gate had not arrived yet.

This explanation displeased the pharaoh. He shook his head, and sent an officer to Memphis to hasten the attack.

"What does this delay mean?" asked he. "I thought that my army would waken me with news of the capture of the temple. In such cases prompt action is the condition of success."

The officer rode away, but nothing had changed at the temple of Ptah. The people were waiting for something, but the chief band was not in its place yet. Some other will seemed to delay the execution of the order.

About ten the litter of Queen Niort's came to the villa occupied by the pharaoh. The revered lady broke into her son's chamber almost with violence, and fell at his feet, weeping.

"What dost Thou wish of me, mother?" asked Ramses, hardly hiding his impatience. "Hast Thou forgotten that the camp is no place for women?"

"I will not leave thee today, I will not leave thee for an instant!" exclaimed the queen. "Thou art the son of Isis, it is true, and she surrounds thee with care. But I should die from fright."

"What threatens me?" inquired the pharaoh, shrugging his shoulders.

"The priest who investigates the stars," said she, tearfully, "declared to a serving woman that Thou wilt live and reign a hundred years if this day favors thee."

"Ah! Where is that man who is skilled in my fate?"

"He fled to Memphis," replied the lady.

Ramses thought a while, then he said, smiling,

"As the Libyans at the Soda Lakes hurled missiles at us, the priests hurl threats today. Be calm, mother! Talk is less dangerous than stones and arrows."

From Memphis a new courier rushed in with a report that all was well, but still the main band was not ready.

On the comely face of the pharaoh appeared signs of anger. Wishing to calm the sovereign, Tutmosis said to him,

"The people are not an army. They know not how to assemble at a given hour; while marching they stretch out like a swamp, and obey no commands. If the occupation of the temples were committed to regiments they would be in possession at present."

"What art Thou saying, Tutmosis?" cried the queen. "Where has any one heard of Egyptian troops."

"Thou hast forgotten," interrupted Ramses, "that according to my commands the troops were not to attack, but defend the temples from attacks of the people."

"Action is delayed through this also," answered Tutmosis, impatiently.

"O counselors of the pharaoh!" burst out the queen. "Your lord acts wisely, appearing as a defender of the gods, and ye, instead of making him milder, urge him to violence."

The blood rushed to Tutmosis' head. Fortunately an adjutant called him from the chamber with information that at the gate was an old man who wished to speak with his holiness.

"Today each man is struggling to get at the pharaoh, as he might at the keeper of a dramshop," muttered the adjutant.

Tutmosis thought that in the time of Ramses XII no one would have dared to speak of the ruler in that way. But he feigned not to hear.

The old man whom the watch had detained was Prince Hiram. He wore a soldier's mantle covered with dust; he was irritated and wearied.

Tutmosis commanded to admit him, and when both were in the garden, he said to him,

"I judge that Thou wilt bathe, worthiness, and change thy dress before I obtain an audience with his holiness?"

Hiram raised his iron-gray brows, and his bloodshot eyes became bloodier.

"From what I have seen," said he firmly, "I may even not ask for an audience."

"Hast Thou the letters of the high priest to Assyria?"

"What good are those letters, since ye have agreed with the priests?"

"What dost Thou say, worthiness?" inquired Tutmosis, starting.

"I know what I say!" replied Hiram. "Ye have obtained tens of thousands of talents from the Phoenicians, as it were for the liberation of Egypt from the power of the priesthood, and today in return for that ye are robbing and slaying us. See what is happening from the sea to the First Cataract: your common people are hunting the Phoenicians like dogs, for such is the command of the priesthood."

"Thou art mad, Phoenician! Our people are taking the temple of Ptah in Memphis."

Hiram waved his hand.

"They will not take it! Ye are deceiving us, or ye are deceiving yourselves. Ye were to seize, first of all, the labyrinth and its treasure, and that only on the 23d. Meanwhile ye are wasting power on the temple of Ptah, and the labyrinth is lost. What is happening here? Where is mind to be found in this place?" continued the indignant Phoenician. "Why storm an empty building? Ye are attacking it so that the priests may take more care of the labyrinth!"

"We will seize the labyrinth, too," said Tutmosis.

"Ye will seize nothing, nothing! Only one man could take the labyrinth, and he will be stopped by today's action in Memphis."

Tutmosis halted on the path.

"About what art Thou troubled?" asked he, abruptly.

"About the disorder which reigns here. About this, that ye are no longer a government, but a group of officers and officials whom the priests send whithersoever they wish and whensoever it pleases them. For three days there is such terrible confusion in Lower Egypt that the people are killing us, your only friends, the Phoenicians. And why is this? Because government has dropped from jour hands, and the priests have seized it."

"Thou speakest thus for Thou knowest not the position," replied Tutmosis. "It is true that the priests thwart us and organize attacks on Phoenicians. But power is in the hands of the pharaoh; events move in general according to his orders."

"And the attack on the temple of Ptah?" inquired Hiram.

"Was ordered by the pharaoh. I was present at the confidential council, during which the pharaoh gave command to take possession of the temples today instead of the 23d."

"Well, I declare to thee, commander of the guard, that ye are lost, for I know to a certainty that the attack of today was decided on at a council of high priests and nomarchs in the temple of Ptah, which was held on Paofi 13."

"Why should they arrange an attack on themselves?" asked Tutmosis in a jeering voice.

"They must have had some reason for it. And I have convinced myself that they manage their affairs better than ye manage yours."

Further conversation was interrupted by an adjutant summoning Tutmosis to his holiness.

"But but," added Hiram, "your soldiers have stopped on the path the priest Pentuer, who has something important to convey to the pharaoh."

Tutmosis seized his own head, and sent officers immediately to find Pentuer. Then he ran to the pharaoh, and after a while returned and commanded the Phoenician to follow him.

When Hiram entered the chamber of Ramses he saw Queen Niort's, the chief treasurer, the chief scribe, and a number of generals. Ramses XIII was irritated, and walked up and down quickly through the chamber.

"Here we have the misfortune of the pharaoh, and of Egypt!" exclaimed the queen, pointing to the Phoenician.

"Worthy lady," answered Hiram, without confusion, bowing to her, "time will show who was the faithful and who the evil servant of his holiness."

Ramses stopped suddenly before Hiram.

"Hast Thou the letters of Herhor to Assyria?" inquired he.

The Phoenician drew from under his robe a package, and in silence handed it to the pharaoh.

"This is what I needed!" exclaimed the pharaoh in triumph. "We must declare at once to the people that the high priests are guilty of treason."

"My son," interrupted the queen in an imploring voice, "by the shade of thy father I adjure thee; delay this announcement a couple of days. There is need of great caution with gifts from Phoenicia."

"Holiness," put in Hiram, "Thou mayst even burn these letters. I am in no way concerned with them."

The pharaoh thought a while, then hid the package in his bosom.

"What hast Thou heard in Lower Egypt?" inquired the sovereign.

"They are beating Phoenicians at all points," replied Hiram. "Our houses are wrecked, our effects stolen, and a number of tens of Phoenicians are slain."

"I have heard. This is the work of the priests," said the pharaoh.

"Say, rather, my son, that it comes of the godlessness and extortion of Phoenicians," interrupted Queen Niort's.

"For three days the chief of police from Pi-Bast is in Memphis with two assistants, and they are on the trail of the murderer and deceiver Lykon."

"Who was hidden in Phoenician temples!" cried Niort's.

"Lykon," continued Hiram, "whom the high priest Mefres stole from the police and the courts Lykon, who in Thebes ran naked through the garden as a maniac, counterfeiting thee, holiness."

"What dost Thou tell me?" cried the pharaoh.

"Holiness, ask the most revered queen if she saw him," answered Hiram.

Ramses looked in confusion at his mother.

"Yes," said she. "I saw that wretch, but I said nothing so as to spare thee pain. I must explain, however, that no one has proof that Lykon was put there by the priests, for the Phoenicians might have done that as well."

Hiram laughed sneeringly.

"O mother, mother!" cried Ramses, with sorrow. "Is it possible that the priests are dearer to thy heart than I am?"

"Thou art my son and most precious sovereign," said the queen with enthusiasm, "but I cannot suffer a stranger, an infidel, to cast calumny on the holy order of the priests from which we are both descended. O Ramses," exclaimed she, falling on her knees, "expel these wicked counselors who urge thee to insult temples, and raise thy hand against the successor of thy grandsire, Amenhotep. There is still time for agreement, still time to save Egypt."

All at once, Pentuer, in torn garments, entered the chamber.

"Well, and what hast Thou to say?" inquired the pharaoh, with wonderful calmness.

"Today, perhaps immediately, there will be an eclipse of the sun."

The pharaoh started back in astonishment.

"How does an eclipse of the sun concern me, especially at this moment?"

"Lord," said Pentuer, "I thought the same till I read in old chronicles of eclipses. An eclipse is such a terrifying spectacle that it was necessary to forewarn the whole people of it."

"That is the truth!" interrupted Hiram.

"Why didst Thou not inform earlier?" inquired Tutmosis.

"The warriors kept me in prison two days. We cannot forewarn the people now, but at least inform the troops at the palace, so that they, too, should not give way to panic."

Ramses clapped his hands.

"Ah, it is too bad!" whispered he, and added aloud. "When will it be, and what will take place?"

"Day will become night," said Pentuer. "This will last as much time, perhaps, as is needed in walking five hundred yards. It will begin at midday, so Menes told me."

"Menes," repeated the pharaoh, "I know that name."

"He wrote thee a letter concerning it, holiness. But let the army know."

Straightway they sounded the trumpets; the guard and the Asiatics were drawn out under arms, and the pharaoh, surrounded by his staff, informed the troops of the eclipse, telling them not to be alarmed, that it would pass soon, and that he would be with them.

"Live through eternity!" answered the armed ranks.

At the same time a number of the best riders were sent to Memphis.

The generals took their places at the head of the columns, the pharaoh walked through the court thoughtfully, the civilians whispered with Hiram; Queen Niort's, left alone in the chamber, fell on her face before the statue of Osiris.

It was after one. The light of the sun began to lessen.

"Will night come in fact?" asked the pharaoh of Pentuer.

"It will come, but during a very short interval."

"Where will the sun be?"

"It will hide behind the moon."

"I must restore to my favor the sages who investigate stars," said the pharaoh to himself.

The darkness increased quickly. The horses of the Asiatics grew restive, flocks of birds flew into the garden, and occupied all the trees, with noisy twitter.

"Rouse up!" cried Kalippos to the Greeks.

The drums beat, the flutes sounded, and to this accompaniment the Greek soldiers sang a dancing song of the priest's daughter who was so timid that she could sleep only in the barracks.

Meanwhile an ominous shade fell on the tawny Libyan hills, and covered Memphis, the Nile, and the palace gardens with lightning swiftness. Night embraced the earth, and in the heavens appeared a ball as black as coal surrounded by a rim of brightness.

An immense uproar drowned the song of the Greek regiment. This was caused by the Asiatics, who raised a military shout as they sent a cloud of arrows toward the sky to frighten the evil spirit which was gulping the sun down.

"Dost say that that black ball is the moon?" inquired the pharaoh of Pentuer.

"That is what Menes asserts."

"He is a great sage! And will the darkness end soon?"

"To a certainty."

"And if this moon should tear itself away and fall to the earth?"

"That cannot be. Here is the sun!" cried Pentuer, with delight.

The assembled regiments raised a shout in honor of Ramses XIII.

The pharaoh embraced Pentuer. "Indeed," said he, "we have seen a most wonderful event. But I should not like to see it a second time. I feel that if I had not been a warrior fear would have mastered me."

Hiram approached Tutmosis, and whispered,

"Send couriers, worthiness, to Memphis immediately, for I fear that the high priests have done something evil."

"Dost Thou think so?"

Hiram nodded.

"They would not have managed the kingdom so long," said he, "they would not have buried eighteen dynasties if they had not known how to use events like the present."

When Ramses had thanked the troops for good bearing in presence of the strange phenomenon, he returned to his villa. He continued thoughtful, he spoke calmly, even mildly, but on his shapely face doubt was evident.

In the pharaoh's soul there was indeed a grievous struggle. He had begun to understand that the priests possessed powers which he not only had not weighed, but had not noted; he had not even wished to hear of them. In a few moments the priests who followed the movements of stars rose in his eyes immensely, and he said to himself that in every case he should learn this wonderful wisdom which confuses people's plans so terribly.

Courier after courier flew from the palace to Memphis to learn what had happened during the eclipse. But the couriers did not return, and uncertainty spread its black wings above the retinue of the pharaoh. No one doubted that something evil had happened at the temple of Ptah. More than that, no man dared to draw his own conclusions. It seemed as though the pharaoh and his intimate counselors were glad when a minute passed without tidings. Meanwhile Queen Niort's sat down at the pharaoh's side, and whispered,

"Let me act, Ramses. Women have served this state more than once. Only remember Queen Niort's in the sixth dynasty, or Makara who created a fleet on the Red Sea. In our sex there is no lack of mind or of energy, so let me act. If the temple of Ptah is not taken, and the priests are not wronged I will reconcile thee with Herhor. Thou wilt take his daughter as wife, and thy reign will be full of glory. Remember that thy grandfather, the holy Amenhotep, was also a high priest and a viceroy of the pharaoh, and Thou thyself, who knows if Thou wouldst be reigning today, had the holy order of the priests not desired to have its own blood on the throne. Art thou, too, not obliged to them for dominion?"

The pharaoh as he listened to her, thought all the time that the wisdom of the priests was an immense power, and the struggle with them difficult.

Only about three in the afternoon did the first courier arrive from Memphis, an adjutant of the regiment which had been stationed at the temple. He informed the sovereign that the temple had not been taken because of the anger of the gods; that the people had fled, that the priests were triumphant, and that even in the army disorder had arisen during that brief but terrible darkness.

Then, taking Tutmosis aside, the adjutant declared to him directly that the troops were demoralized; that, because they had fled in a panic, as many were wounded and killed as in a battle.

"What is happening now with the troops?" inquired Tutmosis in consternation.

"Of course," replied the adjutant, "we were able to rally the men and bring them to order. But we cannot even speak of using them against the temples, especially now when they are occupied with caring for the wounded. At present a warrior is ready to fall to the earth before a shaven head and a panther skin; a long time will pass before any one will dare to cross a sacred gateway."

"But what are the priests doing?"

"Blessing the warriors, giving food and drink to them, and pretending that the troops are not guilty of attacking the temple; that that was the work of Phoenicians."

"But do ye permit this demoralization of troops?" exclaimed Tutmosis.

"Well, his holiness commanded us to defend the priests against the multitude. Had we been permitted to occupy the temple we should have done so at ten in the morning, and the high priests now would be sitting in a dungeon."

At this moment the officer in attendance informed Tutmosis that again some priest had arrived from Memphis, and desired to speak with his holiness.

Tutmosis looked at the guest. He was a man rather young, with a face as if carved out of wood. He said that he had come to the pharaoh from Samentu.

Ramses received the priest, who prostrated himself and gave the pharaoh a ring, at sight of which his holiness grew pallid.

"What does this mean?" asked he.

"Samentu is no longer alive," replied the priest.

Ramses could not recover his voice for a time. At last he asked,

"How has this happened?"

"It appears," replied the priest, "that Samentu was discovered in one of the halls of the labyrinth, and that he poisoned himself to escape torture. It seems that Mefres discovered him through the aid of a certain Greek, who, as they tell us, resembles thee, holiness."

"Again Mefres and Lykon!" exclaimed Tutmosis in anger. "O lord," said he, turning to Ramses, "wilt Thou never free thyself from those traitors?"

The pharaoh summoned a confidential council again. He called in Hiram, also the priest who had brought the ring from Samentu. Pentuer did not wish to take part in the council, but the worthy queen went herself to it.

"I see," whispered Hiram to Tutmosis, "that after the expulsion of priests women are to govern Egypt."

When the dignitaries had assembled, the pharaoh let Samentu's messenger speak.

The young priest would not talk of the labyrinth, but he explained sufficiently that the temple of Ptah was undefended, and that a few tens of men would suffice to arrest all who were hiding there.

"This man is a traitor!" screamed the queen. "A priest himself, he persuades thee to violence against the priesthood."

In the face of the messenger no muscle quivered. "Worthy lady," replied he, "if Mefres destroyed my guardian and master, Samentu, I should be a dog if I sought not revenge. Death for death!"

"This young man pleases me," whispered Hiram.

Indeed a fresher air seemed to move in the assembly. Generals straightened themselves; civilians looked at the priest with curiosity; even the pharaoh's face became livelier.

"Listen not to him, my son," implored Queen Niort's.

"What dost Thou think," asked the pharaoh on a sudden; "what would the holy Samentu do now were he living?"

"I am sure," answered the priest, energetically, "that Samentu would go to the temple of Ptah and burn incense to the gods; but he would punish murderers and traitors."

"And I repeat that Thou art the worst of traitors!" cried the queen.

"I only fulfill my duty," said the priest, unmoved by her language.

"This man is a pupil of Samentu indeed," said Hiram. "He alone sees what is left us to do, and sees clearly."

The military and civil dignitaries recognized the correctness of Hiram's opinion.

"Since we have begun a struggle with the priests," said the chief scribe, "we should finish it, and finish it today when we have letters proving that Herhor was negotiating with the Assyrians, an act which is high treason against Egypt."

"He is carrying out the policy of Ramses XII," said the queen.

"But I am Ramses XIII," said the pharaoh impatiently.

Tutmosis rose from his chair.

"My lord," said he, "let me act. It is very dangerous to continue uncertainty in the government, and it would be folly and crime not to use this occasion. Since this priest says that the temple is not defended, let me go to it with a handful of men whom I will select."

"I am with thee!" said Kalippos. "According to my experience, an enemy while triumphant is the weakest. If we attack the temple of Ptah immediately."

"Ye do not need to attack, but go in there as executives of the pharaoh who commands you to imprison traitors," said the chief scribe. "Even force is not needed. How often does one policeman rush at a crowd of offenders and seize as many as he wishes."

"My son," said the queen, "yields to the pressure of your counsels. But he does not wish force; he forbids you to use it."

"Ha! if that be the case," said the young priest of Set, "I will tell his holiness one other thing." He breathed a couple of times deeply, but still he finished in a stifled voice and with effort. "On the streets of Memphis the party of the priests is announcing, that."

"That what? Speak boldly," said the pharaoh.

"That thou, holiness, art insane, that Thou hast not the ordination of high priest, that Thou art not even made pharaoh, and that 'it is possible to exclude thee from the throne."

"That is just what I feared," whispered Niort's.

The pharaoh sprang up from his seat.

"Tutmosis!" cried he, in a voice in which his recovered energy was heard. "Take as many troops as Thou wishest; go to the temple of Ptah and bring me Herhor and Mefres, accused of high treason. If they are justified I will return my favor; in the opposite case."

"Hast Thou finished?" interrupted the queen.

This time the indignant pharaoh did not answer her, and the officials cried,

"Death to traitors! When has it begun that in Egypt a pharaoh must sacrifice faithful servants to beg for himself the favor of scoundrels?"

Ramses XIII confided to Tutmosis the package of letters of Herhor to Assyria, and said in a solemn voice,

"Till the rebellion of the priests is suppressed, I place my power in the person of Tutmosis, commander of the guards. And do ye listen to him, and do thou, worthy mother, go with thy judgments to him?"

"Wisely and justly has the sovereign acted!" exclaimed the chief scribe. "It does not become a pharaoh to struggle with sedition, and a lack of firm rule might destroy us."

All the dignitaries inclined before Tutmosis. Queen Niort's fell at her son's feet.

Tutmosis, in company with the generals, went out to the court. He commanded the first regiment of the guard to form, and said,

"I need 'a few tens of men who are ready to die for the glory of our lord."

More presented themselves, both men and officers, than were needed, and at the head of them Eunana.

"Are ye prepared for death?" inquired Tutmosis.

"We will die with thee, lord, for his holiness!" exclaimed Eunana.

"Ye will not die, but ye will overcome vile criminals," replied Tutmosis. "Soldiers belonging to this expedition will become officers, and officers will be advanced two degrees. I say this to you, I, Tutmosis, supreme chief by the will of the pharaoh."

"Live Thou forever!"

Tutmosis commanded to prepare twenty-five two-wheeled chariots of the heavy cavalry, and ordered the volunteers to enter. Then he with Kalippos mounted their horses, and soon the whole retinue turned toward Memphis and vanished in a dust cloud.

When Hiram saw this from the window of a villa, he bowed before the pharaoh and whispered,

"Now for the first time I believe that Thou art not in conspiracy with the high priests."

"Wert Thou mad?" burst out the pharaoh.

"Pardon, sovereign, but the attack on the temple today was planned by the priests. How they drew thee into it, holiness, I do not understand to this moment."

It was five in the afternoon.



CHAPTER LXVI

AT that same hour to a minute, the priest, watching on the pylon of the temple of Ptah in Memphis, informed the high priests and nomarchs counseling in the hall, that the palace of the pharaoh was giving some signals.

"It seems that his holiness will beg us for peace," said one of the nomarchs, smiling.

"I doubt that!" answered Mefres.

Herhor ascended the pylon, for they were signaling to him from the palace. Soon he returned and said to those assembled:

"Our young priest has managed very well. At this moment Tutmosis is advancing with some tens of volunteers to imprison or slay us."

"And wilt Thou dare still to defend Ramses?" cried Mefres.

"I must and will defend him, for I swore solemnly to the queen that I would. Were it not for the worthy daughter of the holy Amenhotep, our position today would not be what it is."

"Well, but I have not sworn," replied Mefres, and he left the hall.

"What does he wish?" asked one of the nomarchs.

"He is an old man grown childish," replied Herhor, shrugging his shoulders.

Before six o'clock in the evening a division of the guard approached the temple of Ptah unhindered, and the leader of it knocked at the gate, which was opened immediately. This was Tutmosis with his volunteers.

When the chief entered the temple court he was astonished to see Herhor in the miter of Amenhotep, and surrounded only by priests come out to meet him.

"What dost Thou wish, my son?" asked the high priest of the chief, who was somewhat confused by the meeting.

Tutmosis mastered himself quickly, and said,

"Herhor, high priest of Amon in Thebes, because of letters which Thou hast written to Sargon, the Assyrian satrap, which letters I have with me, Thou art accused of high treason to the state, and must justify thyself before the pharaoh."

"If the young lord," answered Herhor calmly, "wishes to learn the object of the policy of the eternally living Ramses XII, let him apply to our Supreme Council and he will receive explanations."

"I summon thee to follow me at once, unless Thou wish that I should force thee," continued Tutmosis.

"My son, I implore the gods to preserve thee from violence, and from the punishment which Thou deservest."

"Wilt Thou go?" asked Tutmosis.

"I wait here for Ramses," answered Herhor.

"Well, then, remain here, trickster!" cried Tutmosis.

He drew his sword and rushed at Herhor.

At that instant Eunana, who was standing behind the chief, raised an axe and struck Tutmosis with all his might between the neck and the right shoulder blade, so that the blood spurted in every direction. The favorite of the pharaoh fell to the earth almost cut in two.

Some of the warriors with leveled spears rushed at Eunana, but they fell after a brief struggle with their own comrades. Of the volunteers, three-fourths were in the pay of the priesthood.

"May he live, his holiness Herhor, our lord!" cried Eunana, waving his bloody axe.

"May he live through eternity!" repeated the warriors and priests, and all fell on their faces.

The most worthy Herhor raised his hands and blessed them.

On leaving the court of the temple, Mefres went to the underground chamber to Lykon. The high priest at the very threshold drew from his bosom a crystal ball, at the sight of which the Greek fell into auger.

"Would that the earth swallowed you! Would that your corpses might know no rest!" said Lykon, abusing him in a voice which grew lower and lower.

At last he was silent and fell into a trance.

"Take this dagger," said Mefres, giving the Greek a slender steel blade. "Take this dagger and go to the palace garden. Halt there at the clump of fig trees and wait for him who deprived thee of Kama, and took her away."

Lykon gritted his teeth in helpless rage.

"And when Thou seest him, wake," concluded Mefres.

He threw over the Greek an officer's mantle with a cowl, whispered the password into his ear and led him forth to the empty streets of Memphis through a secret door of the temple.

Then Mefres ran with the celerity of youth to the summit of the pylon, and taking in his hand some banners, made signals toward the palace. They saw and understood him, that was evident, for a bitter smile came to the parchment like face of the high priest.

Mefres put down the banners, left the summit of the pylon and descended slowly. When he reached the pavement he was surrounded by some men in light brown tunics, which were covered by coats in white and black stripes.

"Here is the most worthy Mefres," said one of them. And all three knelt before the high priest, who raised his hand mechanically, as if to bless them. But he dropped it suddenly, inquiring, "Who are ye?"

"Overseers of the labyrinth."

"Why have ye barred the way to me?" asked he, and his hand and thin lips began to tremble.

"We need not remind thee, holy man," said one of the overseers still kneeling, "that some days ago Thou wert in the labyrinth, to which Thou knowest the way as well as we, though Thou art uninitiated. Thou art too great a sage not to know what our law is in such a case."

"What does this mean?" exclaimed Mefres in a raised voice. "Ye are murderers sent by Her."

He did not finish. One of the men seized him by the arms, another passed a kerchief over his head, and a third threw a transparent liquid over his face. Mefres struggled a number of times, and fell. They sprinkled him again. When he was dead they placed him in a niche, pushed into his dead hand a papyrus, and vanished.

Three men dressed similarly chased after Lykon almost the instant that he was pushed out of the temple by Mefres and found himself on the empty street. The men had hidden not far from the door through which the Greek issued, and at first let him pass freely. But soon one of them noted something suspicious in his hand, so they followed.

A wonderful thing! Lykon though in a trance felt, as it were, the pursuit; he turned quickly into a street full of movement, then to a square where a multitude of people were circling about, and then ran to the Nile by Fisher Street. There, at the end of some alley, he found a small boat, sprang into it and began to cross the river with a speed which was remarkable.

He was a couple of hundred yards from the shore when a boat pushed out after him with one rower and three passengers. Barely had these left land when a second boat appeared with two rowers and three passengers also.

Both boats pursued Lykon with stubbornness. In that which had only one rower sat the overseers of the labyrinth, looking diligently at their rivals, as far as was permitted by the darkness, which came soon after sundown.

"Who are those three?" whispered they among themselves. "Since the day before yesterday they have been lurking around the temple, and today they are pursuing Lykon. Do they wish to protect him from us?"

Lykon's small boat reached the other shore. The Greek sprang from it and went swiftly toward the palace garden. Sometimes he staggered, stopped, and seized his head, but after an instant he went forward again, as if drawn by some incomprehensible attraction.

The overseers of the labyrinth landed also, but they were preceded by their rivals.

And a race began which was unique in its kind: Lykon was hurling toward the palace, like a swift runner; after him were the three unknown men, and the three overseers of the labyrinth.

A few hundred steps from the garden the pursuing groups came together. It was night then, but clear.

"Who are ye?" asked one of the labyrinth men of the others.

"I am the chief of police in Pi-Bast, and, with my centurions, am pursuing a great criminal," answered one of them.

"We are overseers of the labyrinth and are following the same person."

The groups looked at each other with hands on their swords or knives.

"What will ye do with him?" asked the chief of police.

"We have a sentence against the man."

"But will ye leave the body?"

"With all that is on it," replied the elder overseer.

The police whispered among themselves.

"If ye tell the truth," said the chief at last, "we shall not hinder you. On the contrary, we will lend him to you for a while, as he will fall into our hands later."

"Do ye swear?"

"We swear."

"Then we may go together."

So they joined forces, but the Greek had vanished.

"Curses on him!" cried the chief of police. "He has escaped again!"

"He will be found," answered the overseer of the labyrinth, "or perhaps even he will return."

"Why should he go to the pharaoh's garden?" asked the chief of police.

"The high priests are using him for some purpose of their own, but he will return to the temple."

They decided to wait and act in common.

"We are spending the third night for nothing," said one of the policemen, yawning.

They wrapped themselves in their cloaks and lay on the grass.

Immediately after the departure of Tutmosis, the worthy lady Niort's, in silence, with lips tightly closed from anger, left the chamber of her son, and when Ramses wished to calm her, she interrupted him sharply,

"I take leave of the pharaoh, and pray the gods to permit me to see him to-morrow as pharaoh."

"Dost Thou doubt that, mother?"

"It is possible to doubt everything in presence of one who listens to madmen and traitors."

They parted in anger.

Soon his holiness recovered good-humor and conversed joyously with the officials. But about six o'clock alarm began to torment him.

"Tutmosis ought to send us a courier," said he. "For I am certain that the affair is already settled in one or another way."

"I do not know that," said the chief treasurer. "They may not have found boats at the crossing. There may have been resistance at the temple."

"But where is that young priest?" asked Hiram on a sudden.

"The priest? The messenger of the late Samentu?" repeated the officials in concern. "That is true where can he be?"

Men were sent to search the garden. They searched every path, but there was no priest.

This circumstance made a bad impression on the dignitaries. Each one sat in silence, sunk in alarming thoughts.

About sundown the pharaoh's chamber servant entered and whispered that the lady Hebron was very ill, and implored his holiness to visit her.

The officials, knowing the relations between their lord and the beautiful Hebron, looked at one another. But when the pharaoh announced his purpose of going into the garden they made no protest. The garden, thanks to numerous guards, was as safe as the palace. No one considered it proper to watch over the pharaoh even from a distance, knowing that Ramses did not wish any one to be occupied with him at certain moments.

When he disappeared, the chief scribe said to the treasurer,

"Time drags on like a chariot in the desert. Perhaps Hebron has some news from Tutmosis."

"At this moment," answered the treasurer, "his expedition with a few tens of men to the temple of Ptah seems to me inconceivable madness!"

"But did the pharaoh act more wisely at the Soda Lakes when he chased all night after Tehenna?" put in Hiram. "Daring means more than numbers."

"But that young priest?" asked the treasurer.

"He came without our knowledge and went without leave," added Hiram. "Each one of us acts like a conspirator."

The treasurer shook his head.

Ramses passed the space between his villa and that of Tutmosis quickly. When he entered her chamber Hebron threw herself on his neck with weeping.

"I am dying of fear!" cried she.

"Art Thou alarmed for Tutmosis?"

"What is Tutmosis to me?" answered Hebron, with a contemptuous grimace. "I care for thee only! Of thee only am I thinking, I am alarmed for thee!"

"Blessed be thy alarm which freed me even for a moment from tedium," said the pharaoh, laughing. "O gods! what a day! If Thou hadst heard our discussions, if Thou hadst seen the faces of our counselors! And in addition to all, it pleased the worthy queen to honor our assembly with her presence. Never bad I supposed that the dignity of pharaoh could be so annoying."

"Do not say this audibly," cautioned Hebron. "What wilt Thou do if Tutmosis does not succeed in seizing the temple?"

"I will take the leadership from him, hide my crown in a box, and put on an officer's helmet," answered Ramses. "I am certain that when I appear at the head of the troops myself the sedition will vanish."

"Which one?" inquired Hebron.

"Ah, true, we have two," laughed Ramses. "That of the people against the priests, that of the priests against me."

He seized Hebron in his arms and went toward the couch whispering,

"How beautiful Thou art today! Each time I see thee Thou art different, each time more beautiful than ever."

"Let me go," whispered Hebron. "At times I am afraid that Thou wilt bite me."

"Bite? No! But I might kiss thee to death. Thou dost not even suspect thy own beauty."

"I am beautiful in comparison with ministers and generals. But free me."

"In thy presence I should wish to be like a pomegranate. I should wish to have as many arms as the tree has branches, so as to embrace thee with all of them, as many hands as it has leaves, and as many lips as it has flowers, so as to kiss thy lips, eyes, and bosom at once with them."

"Thou hast a mind marvelously free of care for a sovereign whose throne is in peril."

"On the couch, I do not care for a throne. While I have a sword I shall have power."

"Thy troops are scattered," said Hebron, defending herself.

"Tomorrow fresh troops will come, and after to-morrow I shall gather the scattered ones. I repeat to thee be not occupied with trifles. One moment of fondling is worth more than a year of dominion."

One hour after sunset the pharaoh left Hebron's villa and returned slowly to his palace. He was full of imaginings, he was dreamy, and he thought the high priests were great fools to resist him. Since Egypt became Egypt there had not been a kindlier pharaoh.

All at once, from out a clump of fig trees sprang a man in a dark mantle, and barred the road to Ramses. The pharaoh, to see the man better, approached his face to the face of the stranger and cried suddenly,

"O wretch, is it thou? Go to the guard house!"

It was Lykon. Ramses seized him by the neck; the Greek hissed and knelt on the ground. At the same moment the pharaoh felt a sharp pain in the left side of his stomach.

"Dost Thou bite too?" cried Ramses. He seized the Greek with both hands, and when he heard the cracking of his broken spine he hurled him off in disgust.

Lykon fell quivering in the convulsions of death.

The pharaoh moved back a couple of steps. He examined his body and discovered the handle of a dagger.

"He has wounded me!"

He drew the slender steel from his side and pressed the wound.

"I wonder," thought he, "if any of my counselors has a plaster?" He felt weak and hurried forward. Right at the palace one of the officers stood before him and said, "Tutmosis is dead; the traitor Eunana slew him."

"Eunana?" repeated the pharaoh. "But what of the others?"

"All, all the volunteers who went with Tutmosis were sold to the priests."

"Well, I must finish this!" said Ramses. "Sound the trumpets for the Asiatic regiments."

The trumpets sounded, and the Asiatics hurried from the barracks, leading their horses.

"Give me my steed!" said the pharaoh. But he felt a sudden dizziness and added, "No, give me a litter, I should tire myself."

All at once he tottered into the arms of the officers.

"Oh, I almost forgot," said Ramses in a dying voice. "Bring my helmet and sword that steel sword from the Soda. Let us go to Memphis."

Officials and servants ran out of the villa with torches. The pharaoh was supported by officers, his face was pale and his eyes were mist- covered. He stretched forth his hand as if seeking his breastplate, his lips moved, and amid general silence the lord of two worlds, the temporal and the western, breathed his life out.

The dove-eyed goddess Astaroth had avenged the wrong done her priestess.



CHAPTER LXVII

From the death of Ramses XIII till the day of his burial the state was governed by the most worthy San-Amen-Herhor as high priest of the Theban Amon, and viceroy of the late pharaoh.

The government of the viceroy, lasting some months, was very prosperous for Egypt. Herhor pacified the outbreaks of the people, and, in accordance with former times, he gave the seventh day for rest to the working man. He introduced stern discipline among the priests; he extended protection to foreigners, especially Phoenicians, and concluded a treaty with Assyria, not yielding Phoenicia, however, which remained tributary to Egypt.

In the course of this short government, justice was meted out quickly, but without cruelty, and this or that man did not dare to beat an Egyptian laborer, who had the right to appeal to a court if he had time sufficient and witnesses.

Herhor occupied himself too in paying the debts which weighed on the lands of the state and the pharaoh. With this object he persuaded the Phoenicians to resign a certain part of the sums due them from the treasury, and to cover the rest he drew from the labyrinth the enormous sum of thirty thousand talents.

Thanks to these measures, in the course of three months peace and prosperity were established in Egypt.

"May the rule of the viceroy, San-Amen-Herhor be blessed!" said the people. "Indeed the gods predestined him to power so as to free Egypt from misfortunes brought on by Ramses XIII, who was a woman-hunter and frivolous."

A few days sufficed the people to forget that all Herhor's acts were merely the accomplishment of plans made by the young and lofty-minded pharaoh.

In the month Tobi, when the mummy of Ramses XIII was placed in its tomb, a great assembly of the most important personages met in the temple of Amon. There were present almost all the high priests, nomarchs, and generals of troops, and among them, covered with glory, was the gray-haired chief of the eastern army, Nitager.

In this same gigantic hall of columns, where half a year earlier the priests had judged Ramses XII, and shown dislike for Ramses XIII, those dignitaries assembled to settle the most important question of state, under the presidency of Herhor. On the 25th of Tobi, exactly at noon, Herhor, in the miter of Amenhotep, sat on the throne; others sat in armchairs, and the council took place.

It was of wonderfully short duration, just as if the result had been arranged previously.

"High priests, nomarchs, and leaders," began Herhor. "We have assembled here on sad and important business. With the death of the eternally living Ramses XIII, whose short and stormy reign ended in a manner so unfortunate "Here Herhor sighed.

"With Ramses XIII perished not only a pharaoh, but the twentieth dynasty, which was full of glory."

Among those present rose a murmur.

"The dynasty has not ended," interrupted the powerful nomarch of Memphis, almost harshly. "The worthy Queen Niort's is still living, therefore the throne belongs to her."

After a time Herhor answered: "My most worthy consort, Queen Niort's."

Now in the assembly was heard, not a murmur, but a cry, and it lasted a number of minutes. When it ceased Herhor continued calmly and with emphasis:

"My most worthy consort, Queen Niort's, inconsolable through sorrow for her son, has abdicated the throne."

"Permit!" exclaimed the nomarch of Memphis. "The most worthy viceroy has called the queen his consort. This intelligence is entirely new, and, first of all it must be verified."

At a sign from Herhor the judge of Thebes drew out an act concluded two days before between the most worthy high priest of Amon, San-Amen- Herhor, and Queen Niort's, widow of Ramses XII, and mother of Ramses XIII.

After this explanation came a grave-like silence. Herhor began again,

"Since my consort, who is the only heir to the throne, has abdicated, the reign of the twentieth dynasty is ended; we must choose a new sovereign.

"This sovereign," continued Herhor, "should be a man of ripe years, energetic, and skilled in government. For this reason I advise you to choose for the highest position."

"Herhor!" cried some one.

"The most famous Nitager, the leader of the eastern army," finished Herhor.

Nitager sat a long time with closed eyes, smiling. At last he rose, and said,

"Never will there be a lack of men eager for the title of pharaoh. We have more of them perhaps than are needed. Luckily, the gods themselves, in setting aside useless rivals, have indicated a man most worthy of power, and it seems to me that I shall act wisely if, instead of receiving the crown offered me graciously, I answer,

"May he live through eternity, his holiness, San-Amen-Herhor, the first pharaoh of a new dynasty!"

Those present, with few exceptions, repeated the shout, and at the same time the supreme judge brought on a golden tray two caps: the white one of Upper, and the red one of Lower Egypt. One of these was taken by the high priest of Osiris, the other by the high priest of Horus, and they delivered them to Herhor, who, when he had kissed the golden serpent, put them both on his head.

Then those present began the ceremony of offering homage, which lasted a couple of hours. After that a proper act was written; those who took part in the election placed their seals on it, and from that moment San-Amen-Herhor was the real pharaoh, the lord of both worlds, also of the life and death of his subjects.

Toward evening his holiness returned wearied to his chambers of a high priest, where he found Pentuer, who had grown thin, and on whose emaciated face weariness and sadness were evident.

When Pentuer prostrated himself the pharaoh raised him and said with a smile,

"Thou didst not sign my election, Thou didst not give me homage, and I fear that I shall have to arrest thee some time in the temple of Ptah. Well, hast Thou been thinking to leave me? Dost prefer Menes?"

"Forgive, holiness," answered the priest, "but court life has so wearied me that my only desire is to learn wisdom."

"Thou canst not forget Ramses?" inquired Herhor. "And yet Thou knewest him only a very short time, while Thou hast labored with me during years."

"Blame me not, holiness, but Ramses XIII was the first pharaoh to commiserate the Egyptian people."

Herhor smiled.

"O ye learned men," said he, shaking his head. "But it was Thou who didst turn the attention of Ramses to the people, and now Thou bearest mourning for him in thy heart, though he did nothing whatever for the people. It was Thou who commiserated, not he. Ye are strange men, in spite of your powerful minds," continued Herhor. "It is the same thing with Menes. That priest considers that he is the most peaceful man in Egypt, though it was he who overturned the dynasty and smoothed the road to power for me. Were it not for his letter about the eclipse of the sun on the 20th of Paofi, perhaps I and the late Mefres would be splitting stones now in the quarries.

"Well, go; go and greet Menes for me. Remember also that I know how to be thankful, which is the great secret of ruling. Tell Menes that I shall carry out every wish of his, unless he asks me, for example, to abdicate. Return to me when Thou hast rested, I will keep an important place for thee."

THE END