"Thus let it be!"

After this terrible oath, which Hiram began, and the second half of which all shouted forth in voices trembling from rage, the three panting Phoenicians rested. After that Rabsun conducted them to a feast where with wine, music, and dancers they forgot for a time the work awaiting them.



CHAPTER XXVI

Not far from the city of Pi-Bast stood the temple of the goddess Hator.

In the month Paoni (March-April), on the day of the vernal equinox, about nine in the evening, when the star Sirius inclined toward its setting, two wayfaring priests and one penitent stopped in the gateway. The penitent, who was barefoot, had ashes on his head, and was covered with a coarse cloth which concealed his visage.

Though the air was clear, it was impossible to distinguish the faces of those wayfarers. They stood in the shadow of two immense statues of the cow-headed divinity which guarded the entrance to the temple and with kindly eyes protected the province of Habu from pestilence, southern winds, and bad overflows.

When he had rested somewhat, the penitent fell with his face to the earth and prayed long in that position. Then he rose, took a copper knocker, and struck a blow. A deep metallic sound went through all the courts, reverberated from the thick walls of the temple, and flew over the wheat-fields, above the mud cottages of earth-tillers, over the silvery waters of the Nile, where the faint cry of wakened birds answered it.

After a long time a murmur was heard inside, and the question,

"Who rouses us?"

"Ramses, a slave of the divinity," said the penitent.

"For what hast Thou come?"

"For the light of wisdom."

"What right hast Thou to ask for it?"

"I received the inferior consecration, and in great processions within the temple I carry a torch."

The gates opened widely. In the centre stood a priest in a white robe; he stretched forth his hand, and said slowly and distinctly,

"Enter. When Thou crossest this threshold, may divine peace dwell in thy soul, and may that be accomplished for which Thou implorest humbly."

When the penitent had fallen at his feet, the priest, making some signs above his head, whispered,

"In the name of Him who is, who has been, and who will be, who created everything, whose breath fills the visible and the invisible world, and who is life eternal."

When the gate had closed, the priest took Ramses by the hand, and in the gloom amid the immense columns of the forecourt he led him to the dwelling assigned to him. It was a small cell lighted by a lamp. On the stone pavement lay a bundle of dry grass; in a corner stood a pitcher of water, and near it was a barley cake.

"I see that here I shall have rest indeed after my occupations with the nomarchs," said Ramses, joyously.

"Think of eternity," replied the priest; and he withdrew.

This answer struck Ramses disagreeably. Though he was hungry, he did not wish to eat a cake or drink water. He sat on the grass, and looking at his feet wounded from the journey, asked himself why he had come, why he had put himself voluntarily out of his office.

Seeing the walls of the cell and its poverty, he recalled the years of his boyhood passed at a priests' school. How many blows of sticks he had received there, how many nights he had passed on a stone floor as punishment! Even then Ramses felt the hatred and fear which he had felt before toward that harsh priest who to all his prayers and questions answered only with, "Think of eternity."

After some months of uproar to drop into such silence, to exchange the court of a prince for obscurity and loneliness, and instead of feasts, women, and music, to feel around and above him the weight of walls! "I have gone mad! I have gone mad!" muttered Ramses.

There was a moment when he wished to leave the temple at once; but afterward he thought that they might not open the gate to him. The sight of his dirty legs, of the ashes falling out of his hair, the roughness of his penitential rags, all this disgusted him. If he had had his sword even! But would he, dressed as he was in that place, dare to use it?

He felt an overpowering dread, and that sobered him. He remembered that the gods in temples send down fear on men, and that this fear must be the beginning of wisdom.

"Moreover, I am the viceroy and the heir of the pharaoh," thought he; "who will harm me in this temple?"

He rose and went out of the cell. He found himself in a broad court surrounded by columns. The stars were shining brightly; hence he saw at one end of the court an immense pylon, at the other an open entrance to the temple.

He went thither. At the door there was gloom, and somewhere far off flamed a number of lamps, as if in the air and unsupported. Looking more attentively, he saw standing closely together between the entrance and the lamps a forest of columns, the tops of which were lost in darkness. At a distance, perhaps two hundred yards from him, he saw indistinctly the gigantic legs of a sitting goddess with her hands resting on her knees, from which the lamplight was reflected dimly.

All at once he heard a sound from afar. From a side passage a row of white figures pushed forth, moving in couples. This was a night procession of priests, who, singing in two choruses, gave homage to the statue of the goddess: Chorus I. "I am He who created heaven and earth and made all things contained in them." Chorus II. "I am He who created the waters and the great overflow, He who made for the bull his mother whose parent he himself is." Chorus I "I am He who made heaven and the secrets of its horizon; as to the gods I it was who placed their souls in them." Chorus II. "I am He who when he opens his eyes there is light in the world and when he closes them darkness is present." Chorus I. "The waters of the Nile flow when he commands." Chorus II. "But the gods do not know what his name is." [Authentic.].

The voices, indistinct at first, grew stronger, so that each word was audible, and when the procession disappeared the words scattered among the columns, growing ever fainter. At last every sound ceased.

"And still those people," thought Ramses, "not only eat, drink, and gather wealth they really perform religious services even in the night- time; though, how is that to affect the statue?"

The prince had seen more than once the statues of boundary divinities bespattered with mud by the inhabitants of another province, or shot at from bows or slings by mercenary soldiers. "If gods are not offended by insult, they must also care little for prayers and processions. Besides, who has seen gods?" said the prince to himself.

The immensity of the temple, its countless columns, the lamps burning in front of the statue, all this attracted Ramses. He wished to look around in that mysterious immensity, and he went forward. Then it seemed to him that some hand from behind touched his head tenderly. He looked around. No one was there; so he went farther.

This time the two hands of some person seized him by the head, and a third, a great hand, rested on his shoulder.

"Who is here?" cried he prince; and he rushed in among the columns. But he stumbled and almost fell: some one caught him by the feet. Again terror mastered Ramses more than in the cell. He fled distracted, knocking against columns which seemed to bar the way to him, and darkness closed around the man on all sides.

"Oh, save, holy goddess, save me!" whispered he.

At this moment he stopped: some yards in front of him was the great door of a temple through which the starry sky was visible. He turned his head. Amid the forest of gigantic columns lamps were burning, and the gleam of them was reflected faintly from the bronze knees of the holy Hator.

The prince returned to his cell, crushed and excited; his heart throbbed like that of a bird caught in a net. For the first time in many years he fell with his face to the earth and prayed ardently for favor and forgiveness.

"Thou wilt be heard," answered a sweet voice above him.

Ramses raised his head quickly, but there was no one in the cell: the door was closed, the walls were thick. He prayed on therefore more ardently, and fell asleep in that position, with his face on the stones and his arms extended.

When he woke next morning, he was another man: he had experienced the might of the gods, and favor had been promised.

From that time through a long series of days he gave himself to devotional exercises with faith and alacrity. In his cell he spent long hours over prayers, he had his head shaven, and put on priestly garments, and four times in twenty-four hours he took part in a chorus of the youngest priests.

His past life, taken up with amusements, roused in him aversion, and the disbelief which he had acquired amid foreigners and dissolute youth filled him with dread in that interval. And if that day the choice had been given him to take either the throne or the priestly office, he would have hesitated.

A certain day the great prophet of the temple summoned the prince, and reminded him that he had not entered for prayers exclusively, but to learn wisdom. The prophet praised his devotion, declared that he was purified then from worldly foulness, and commanded him to become acquainted with the schools connected with that temple.

Rather through obedience than curiosity, the prince went directly from him to the interior court, where the department of reading and writing was situated.

That was a great hall, lighted through an opening in the roof. On mats some tens of naked pupils were seated holding wax tablets in their hands. One wall was of smooth alabaster; before it stood a teacher who wrote characters with chalks of various colors.

When the prince entered, the pupils, almost all of the same age that he was, fell on their faces. The teacher bowed, and stopped his actual labor to explain to the youths the great meaning of knowledge.

"My beloved," said he, "a man who has no heart for wisdom must occupy himself with handwork and torment his eyesight. But he who understands the worth of knowledge and forms himself accordingly may gain all kinds of power and every court office. Remember this. [Authentic]

"Look at the wretched fate of men unacquainted with writing. A smith is black and grimy, his hands are full of lumps, and he toils night and day all his lifetime. The quarryman pulls his arms out to satisfy his stomach. The mason while forming a capital in lotus shape is hurled off by wind from the scaffold. A weaver has bent knees, a maker of weapons is ever traveling: barely does he come to his house in the evening when he must leave it. The fingers of a wall painter smell disagreeably, and his time passes in trimming up trifles. The courier when taking farewell of his family must leave a will, for he may have to meet wild beasts or Asiatics.

"I have shown you the lot of men of various labors, for I wish you to love writing, which is your mother, and now I will present to you its beauties. It is not an empty word on earth, it is the most important of all occupations. He who makes use of writing is respected from childhood; he accomplishes every great mission. But he who takes no part in it lives on in wretchedness. School sciences are as difficult as mountains, but one day of them lasts through eternity. So learn quickly and you will love them. The scribe has a princely position; his pen and his book win him wealth and acceptance."

After a sounding discourse on the dignity of knowledge, a discourse which Egyptian pupils had heard without change for three millenniums, the master took chalk and on the alabaster wall began to write the alphabet. Each letter was expressed through a number of hieroglyphs, or a number of demotic characters. The picture of an eye, a bird, or a panther signified A, a sheep or a pot B, a man standing or a boat T, a serpent R, a man sitting or a star S. The abundance of signs expressing each sound made the art of reading or writing extremely laborious.

Ramses was wearied by mere listening, during which the only relief was when the teacher commanded some pupil to draw, or to name some letter, and beat him with a cane when he failed in his effort.

Taking farewell of the teacher and the pupils, the prince from the school of scribes passed to the school of surveyors. There they taught youth to draw plans of fields which were for the most part rectangular, also to take the elevation of land by means of two laths and a square. In this department also they explained the art of writing numbers no less involved in hieroglyphic or demotic characters. But pure arithmetical problems formed a higher course, and were solved by means of bullets.

Ramses had enough of this, and only after some days would he visit the school of medicine.

This was also a hospital, or rather great garden containing a multitude of fragrant plants and trees. Patients passed whole days in the open air and in sunlight, on beds where strips of stretched canvas took the place of mattresses.

The greatest activity reigned when the prince entered. Some patients were bathing in a pond of running water; attendants were rubbing one man with fragrant ointments, and burning perfumes before another. There were some whom they had put to sleep by looking at them and by stretching out their bodies; one patient was groaning while they were setting his sprained ankle.

To a certain woman who was grievously sick the priest was giving some mixture from a goblet, while uttering an enchantment which had power in connection with this remedy,

"Go, cure, go, drive that out of my heart, out of my members." [Authentic]

Then the prince in company with a great leech went to the pharmacy, where one of the priests was preparing cures from plants, honey, olive oil, from the skins of serpents and lizards, from the bones and fat of beasts. When Ramses questioned him, the man did not take his eyes from the work. He looked continually, and ground the materials, uttering a prayer as he did so,

"Thou hast cured Isis, Thou hast cured Isis, Thou hast cured Horus O Isis, great enchantress, make me well, free me from all evil, from harmful red things, from fever of the god, from fever of the goddess!"

"O Shauagat, eenagate, synie! Erukate! Kauaruchagate! Paparauka paparaka paparura."

"What is he saying?" asked the prince.

"A secret," answered the leech, putting his finger on his lips.

When they came out to an empty court, Ramses said to the great leech,

"Tell me, holy father, what is the art of curing, and what are its methods. For I have heard that sickness is an evil spirit which settles in a man and torments him, because it is hungry, until it receives the food that it wishes. And that one evil spirit or sickness feeds on honey, another on olive oil, and a third on the excreta of animals. A leech, therefore, should know first what spirit has settled in the sick man, and then what kind of nourishment is required by that spirit, so that it should not torture the patient."

The priest thought awhile and then answered,

"What sickness is and in what way it falls on the human body, I cannot tell, O Ramses. But to thee I will explain, for Thou hast been purified, how we govern ourselves in giving medicine.

"Suppose a given man to be sick in the liver. We priests know that the liver is under the star Peneter-Deva, [Planet Venus] that the cure must depend on that star.

"But here the sages are divided into two schools. Some assert that it is necessary to give the man who is sick in his liver things over which Peneter-Deva has influence, therefore copper, lapis lazuli, extract of flowers, above all verbena and valerian, finally, various parts of the body of the turtle-dove and the goat. Other leeches consider that when the liver is diseased it is necessary to cure it with just the opposite remedies, and the opponent of Peneter-Deva being Sebek, [Planet Mercury] to give quicksilver, emerald, and agate, hazel-wood and coltsfoot, also parts of the body of a toad and an owl rubbed into powder.

"But this is not all, for it is necessary to think of the day, the month, and the hour of the day, for each of these spaces of time are under the influence of a star which must support or weaken the action of the medicine. Besides, it is needful to remember what star and what sign of the Zodiac rules the sick person. Only when the leech considers all these can he prescribe an infallible remedy."

"And do ye help all sick people in the temple?"

The priest shook his head.

"No. The mind of man, which should take in all these details of which I have spoken, makes mistakes very easily. And what is worse, envious spirits, the geniuses of other temples, jealous of their fame, frequently hinder the leech and destroy the effect of his medicines. The result, therefore, may be that one patient will return to perfect health, another simply grows better, while a third remains without change, though there happen some who become still sicker, or even die This is as the gods will!"

The prince listened with attention, but confessed in soul that he did not understand greatly. All at once he recalled the object of his visit to the temple, and inquired of the great leech unexpectedly,

"Ye were to show me, holy father, the secret of the treasure of the pharaoh. Was it those things which we have seen?"

"By no means. We know nothing of state affairs. But when the great seer comes, the holy priest Pentuer, he will remove from thy eyes the curtain."

Ramses took leave of the leech with increased curiosity as to what they were to show him.



CHAPTER XXVII

THE temple received Pentuer with great honor, and the inferior priests went out half an hour's journey to greet him. From all the wonderful places of Lower Egypt many prophets had assembled with the intent to hear words of wisdom. A couple of days later came the high priest Mefres and the prophet Mentezufis. These two rendered honor to Pentuer, not only because he was a counselor of Herhor and notwithstanding his youth a member of the supreme college, but because this priest enjoyed favor throughout Egypt. The gods had given him a memory which seemed more than human; they had given him eloquence, and above all a marvelous gift of clear vision. In every affair he saw points hidden from others, and was able to explain them in a way understood by all listeners.

More than one nomarch, or high official of the pharaoh, on learning that Pentuer was to celebrate a religious solemnity in the temple of Hator, envied the humblest priest, since he would hear a man inspired by divinities.

The priests who went forth to greet Pentuer felt sure that that dignitary would show himself in a court chariot, or in a litter borne by eight slaves. What was their amazement at beholding a lean ascetic, bareheaded, wearing a coarse garment, riding on a she ass, and unattended! He greeted them with great humility, and when they conducted him to the temple he made an offering to the divinity and went straightway to examine the place of the coming festival.

Thenceforth no one saw Pentuer, but in the temple and the adjoining courts there was an uncommon activity. Men brought costly furniture, grain, garments. A number of hundreds of pupils and workmen were freed from their employments; with these Pentuer shut himself up in the court and worked at preparations.

After eight days of hard labor he informed the high priest of Hator that all things were ready.

During this time Prince Ramses, who was hidden in his cell, gave himself up to prayer and fasting. At last on a certain date about three hours after midday a number of priests, arrayed in two ranks, came and invited him to the solemnity.

In the vestibule of the temple the high priest greeted the prince, and with him burned incense before the great statue of Hator. Then they turned to a low, narrow corridor, at the end of which a fire was burning. The air of the corridor was filled with the odor of pitch which was boiling in a kettle. Near the kettle, through an opening in the pavement, rose dreadful groans and curses.

"What does that mean?" inquired Ramses of a priest among those attending him.

The priest gave no answer; on the faces as far as could be seen emotion and terror were evident. At this moment the high priest Mefres seized a great ladle, took boiling pitch from the kettle, and said in loud accents,

"May all perish thus who divulge temple secrets!"

Next he poured pitch into the opening in the pavement, and from below came a roar,

"Ye are killing me. Oh, if ye have in your hearts even a trace of compassion," groaned a voice,

"May the worms gnaw thy body," said Mentezufis, as he poured melted pitch into the opening.

"Dogs jackals!" groaned the voice.

"May thy heart be consumed by fire and its ashes be hurled into the desert," said the next priest, repeating the ceremony.

"O gods! is it possible to suffer as I do?" was the answer from beneath the pavement.

"May thy soul, with the image of its shame and its crime, wander onward through places where live happy people," said a second priest; and he poured another ladle of burning pitch into the aperture.

"Oh, may the earth devour you! mercy! let me breathe!"

Before the turn came to Ramses the voice underground was silent.

"So do the gods punish traitors," said the high priest of the temple to the viceroy.

The prince halted, and fixed on him eyes full of anger. It seemed to Ramses that he would burst out with indignation, and leave that assembly of executioners; but he felt a fear of the gods and advanced behind others in silence.

The haughty heir understood now that there was a power before which the pharaohs incline. He was seized by despair almost; he wished to flee, to renounce the throne. Meanwhile he held silence and walked on, surrounded by priests chanting prayers.

"Now I know," thought he, "where people go who are unpleasant to the servants of divinity." But this thought did not decrease his horror.

Leaving the narrow corridor full of smoke, the procession found itself on an elevation beneath the open sky. Below was an immense court surrounded on three sides by low buildings instead of a wall. From the place where the priests halted was a kind of amphitheatre with five broad platforms by which it was possible to pass along the whole court or to descend to the bottom.

In the court no one was present, but certain people were looking out of buildings.

The high priest Mefres, as chief dignitary in the assembly, presented Pentuer to the viceroy. The mild face of the ascetic did not harmonize with the horrors which had taken place in the corridor; so the prince wondered. To say something, he said to Pentuer,

"It seems to me that I have met thee somewhere, pious father?"

"The past year at the maneuvers near Pi-Bailos. I was there with his worthiness Herhor."

The resonant and calm voice of Pentuer arrested the prince. He had heard that voice on some uncommon occasion. But where and when had he heard it?

In every case the priest made an agreeable impression. If he could only forget the cries of that man whom they had covered with boiling pitch!

"We may begin," said Mefres.

Pentuer went to the middle of the amphitheatre and clapped his hands. From the low buildings a crowd of female dancers issued forth, and priests came out with music, also with a small statue of the goddess Hator. The musicians preceded, the dancers followed, performing a sacred dance; finally the statue moved on surrounded by the smoke of censers. In this way they went around the court and stopping after every few steps, implored the divinity for a blessing, and asked evil spirits to leave the enclosure, where there was to be a solemnity full of secrets.

When the procession had returned to the buildings, Pentuer stepped forward. Dignitaries present to the number of two or three hundred gathered round him.

"By the will of his holiness the pharaoh," began Pentuer, "and with consent of the supreme priestly power, we are to initiate the heir to the throne, Ramses, into some details of life in Egypt, details known only to the divinities who govern the country and the temples. I know, worthy fathers, that each of you would enlighten the young prince better in these things than I can; ye are full of wisdom, and the goddess Mut speaks through you. But since the duty has fallen on me, who in presence of you am but dust and a pupil, permit me to accomplish it under your worthy inspection and guidance."

A murmur of satisfaction was heard among the learned priests at this manner. Pentuer turned to the viceroy.

"For some months, O servant of the gods, Ramses, as a traveler lost in the desert seeks a road, so Thou art seeking an answer to the question: Why has the income of the holy pharaoh diminished, and why is it decreasing? Thou hast asked the nomarchs, and though they explained according to their power, Thou wert not satisfied, though the highest human wisdom belongs to those dignitaries. Thou didst turn to the chief scribes, but in spite of their efforts these men were like birds in a net, unable to free themselves without assistance, for the reason of man, though trained in the school of scribes, is not in a position to take in the immensity of these questions. At last, wearied by barren explanations, Thou didst examine the lands of the provinces, their people, the works of their hands, but didst arrive at nothing. For there are things of which people are silent as stones, but concerning which even stones will give answer if light from the gods only falls on them.

"When in this manner all these earthly powers and wisdoms disappointed thee, Thou didst turn to the gods. Barefoot, thy head sprinkled with ashes, Thou didst come in the guise of a penitent to this great sanctuary, where by means of suffering and prayer Thou hast purified thy body and strengthened thy spirit. The gods but especially the mighty Hator listened to thy prayers, and through my unworthy lips give an answer, and mayst Thou write it down in thy heart profoundly."

"Whence does he know," thought the prince, meanwhile, "that I asked the scribes and nomarchs? Aha! Mefres and Mentezufis told him. For that matter, they know everything."

"Listen," continued Pentuer, "and I will discover to thee, with permission of these dignitaries, what Egypt was four hundred years ago in the reign of the most glorious and pious nineteenth Theban dynasty, and what it is at present.

"When the first pharaoh of that dynasty, Ramen-Pehuti-Ramessu, assumed power over the country, the income of the treasury in wheat, cattle, beer, skins, vessels, and various articles rose to a hundred and thirty thousand talents. If a people had existed who could exchange gold for all these goods, the pharaoh would have had yearly one hundred and thirty-three thousand minas of gold. [Mina equals one and a half kilograms.] And since one warrior can carry on his shoulders the weight of twenty-six minas, about five thousand warriors would have been needed to carry that treasure."

The priests whispered to one another without hiding their wonder. Even the prince forgot the man tortured to death beneath the pavement.

"Today," said Pentuer, "the yearly income of his holiness for all products of his land is worth only ninety-eight thousand talents. For these it would be possible to obtain as much gold as four thousand warriors could carry."

"That the income of the state has decreased greatly, I know," said Ramses, "but what is the cause of this?"

"Be patient, O servant of the gods," replied Pentuer. "It is not the income of his holiness alone that is subject to decrease. During the nineteenth dynasty Egypt had under arms one hundred and eighty thousand warriors. If by the action of the gods every soldier of that time had been turned into a pebble the size of a grape."

"That cannot be!" said Ramses.

"The gods can do anything," answered Mefres, the high priest, severely.

"But better," continued Pentuer, "if each soldier were to place on the ground one pebble, there would be one hundred and eighty thousand pebbles; and, look, worthy fathers, these pebbles would occupy so much space." He pointed to a quadrangle of reddish color to the court. "In this figure the pebbles deposited by warriors of the time of Ramses I. would find their places. This figure is nine yards long and about five wide. This figure is ruddy; it has the color of Egyptian bodies, for in those days all our warriors were Egyptian exclusively."

The priests began to whisper a second time. The prince frowned, for that seemed to him a reprimand, since he loved foreign soldiers.

"Today," said Pentuer, "we assemble one hundred and twenty thousand warriors with great difficulty. If each one of those cast his pebble on the ground, they would form a figure of this sort. Look this way, worthiness." At the side of the first quadrangle lay a second of the same width, but considerably shorter; its color was not uniform either, but was composed of a number of colors. "This figure," said Pentuer, "is about five yards wide, but is only six yards in length. An immense number of men is now lacking, our army has lost one-third of its warriors."

"Wisdom of men like thee, O prophet, will bring more good to the state than an army," interrupted the high priest.

Pentuer bent before him and continued,

"In this new figure which represents the present army of the pharaoh ye see, worthy men, besides the ruddy color which designates Egyptians by blood, three other stripes, black, white, and yellow. They represent mercenary divisions, Ethiopians, Asiatics, Greeks, and Libyans. There are thirty thousand of them altogether, but they cost as much as fifty thousand Egyptians."

"We must do away with foreign regiments at the earliest," said Me f res. "They are costly, unsuitable, and teach our people infidelity and insolence. At present there are many Egyptians who do not fall on their faces before the priests; more, some of them have gone so far as to steal from graves and temples."

"Therefore away with the mercenaries!" said Mefres, passionately. "The country has received from them nothing save harm, and our neighbors suspect us of hostile ideas."

"Away with mercenaries! Dismiss these unruly infidels!" cried the priests.

"When in years to come, O Ramses, Thou wilt ascend the throne," added Mefres, "Thou wilt fulfill this sacred duty to the gods and to Egypt."

"Yes, fulfill it! free thy people from unbelievers!" cried the priests.

Ramses bent his head, and was silent. The blood flew to his heart. He felt that the ground was trembling under him.

He was to dismiss the best part of the army, he, who would like to have twice as great an army and four times as many mercenary warriors.

"They are pitiless with me," thought Ramses.

"Speak on, O Pentuer, sent down from heaven to us," said Mefres.

"So then, holy men," continued Pentuer, "we have learned of two misfortunes, the pharaoh's income has decreased, and his army is diminished."

"What need of an army?" grumbled the high priest, shaking his head contemptuously.

"And now, with the favor of the gods and your permission, I will explain why it has happened thus, why the treasury will decrease further, and troops be still fewer in the future."

The prince raised his head and looked at the speaker. He thought no longer now of the man put to death beneath the corridor.

Pentuer passed a number of steps along the amphitheatre, and after him the dignitaries.

"Do ye see at your feet that long, narrow strip of green with a broad triangular space at the end of it? On both sides of the strip lie limestone, granite, and, behind these, sandy places. In the middle of the green flows a stream, which in the triangular space is divided into a number of branches."

"That is the Nile! That is Egypt!" cried the priests.

"But look," interrupted Mefres, with emotion. "I will discover the river. Do ye see those two blue veins running from the elbow to the hand? Is not that the Nile and its canals, which begins opposite the Alabaster mountains and flows to Fayum? And look at the back of my hand: there are as many veins there as the sacred river has branches below Memphis. And do not my fingers remind you of the number of branches through which the Nile sends its waters to the sea?"

"A great truth!" exclaimed the priests, looking at their hands.

"Here, I tell you," continued the excited high priest, "that Egypt is the trace of the arm of Osiris. Here on this land the great god rested his arm: in Thebes lay his divine elbow, his fingers reached the sea, and the Nile is his veins. What wonder that we call this country blessed!"

"Evidently," said the priest, "Egypt is the express imprint of the arm of Osiris."

"Has Osiris seven fingers on his hand," interrupted the prince, "for the Nile has seven branches falling into the sea?"

Deep silence followed.

"Young man," retorted Mefres, with kindly irony, "dost suppose that Osiris could not have seven fingers if it pleased him?"

"Of course he could!" said the other priests.

"Speak on, renowned Pentuer," said Mentezufis.

"Ye are right, worthy fathers," began Pentuer: "this stream with its branches is a picture of the Nile; the narrow strip of green bounded by stones and sand is Upper Egypt, and that triangular space, cut with veins, is a picture of Lower Egypt, the most extensive and richest part of the country.

"Well, in the beginning of the nineteenth dynasty, all Egypt, from the cataract to the sea, included five hundred thousand measures of land. On every measure lived sixteen persons: men, women, and children. But during four hundred succeeding years almost with each generation a piece of fertile soil was lost to Egypt."

The speaker made a sign. A number of young priests ran out of the building and sprinkled sand on various parts of the green area.

"During each generation," continued the priest, "fertile land diminished, and the narrow strip of it became much narrower. At present our country instead of five hundred thousand measures has only four hundred thousand or during two dynasties Egypt has lost laud which supported two millions of people."

In the assembly again rose a murmur of horror.

"And dost Thou know, O Ramses, servant of the gods, whither those spaces have vanished where on a time were fields of wheat and barley, or where flocks and herds pastured? Thou knowest that sands of the desert have covered them. But has any one told thee why this came to pass? It came to pass because there was a lack of men who with buckets and ploughs fight the desert from morning till evening. Finally, dost Thou know why these toilers of the gods disappeared? Whither did they go? What swept them out of the country? Foreign wars did it. Our nobles conquered enemies, our pharaohs immortalized their worthy names as far away as the Euphrates River, but like beasts of burden our common men carried food for them, they carried water, they carried other weights, and died along the road by thousands.

"To avenge those bones scattered now throughout eastern deserts, the western sands have swallowed our fields, and it would require immense toil and many generations to win back that dark Egyptian earth from the sand grave which covers it."

"Listen! listen!" cried Mefres, "some god is speaking through the lips of Pentuer. It is true that our victorious wars are the grave of Egypt."

Ramses could not collect his thoughts. It seemed to him that mountains of sand were falling on his head at that moment.

"I have said," continued Pentuer, "that great labor would be needed to dig out Egypt and restore the old-time wealth devoured by warfare. But have we the power to carry out that project?"

Again he advanced some steps, and after him the excited listeners. Since Egypt became Egypt, no one had displayed so searchingly the disasters of the country, though all men knew that they had happened.

"During the nineteenth dynasty Egypt had eight millions of inhabitants. If every man, woman, old man, and child had put down in this place one bean, the grains would make a figure of this kind."

He indicated with his hand a court where one by the side of another lay eight great quadrangles covered with red beans.

"That figure is sixty yards long, thirty yards wide, and as ye see, pious fathers, the grains composing it are of the same kind, for the people of that time were from Egyptian grandfathers and great- grandfathers. But look now."

He went farther, and indicated another group of quadrangles of various colors.

"Ye see this figure which is thirty yards wide, but only forty-five yards in length. Why is this? Because there are in it only six quadrangles, for at present Egypt has not eight, but only six millions of inhabitants. Consider, besides, that as the former figure was composed exclusively of red Egyptian beans in the present one are immense strips of black, yellow, and white beans. For in our army and among the people there are now very many foreigners: black Ethiopians, yellow Syrians and Phoenicians, white Greeks and Libyans."

They interrupted him. The priests who listened began to embrace him; Mefres was weeping.

"Never yet has there been such a prophet. One cannot imagine when he could make such calculations," said the best mathematician in the temple of Hator.

"Fathers," said Pentuer, "do not overestimate my services. Long years ago in our temples the condition of the state was represented in this manner. I have only disinterred that which later generations had in some degree forgotten."

"But the reckoning?" asked the mathematician.

"The reckonings are continued unbrokenly in all the provinces and temples," replied Pentuer. "The general amounts are found in the palace of his holiness."

"But the figures?" exclaimed the mathematician.

"Our fields are arranged in just such figures, and the geometers of the state study them at school."

"We know not what to admire most in this priest, his wisdom or his humility," said Mefres. "Since we have such a man, the gods have not forgotten us."

At that moment the guard watching on the pylons of the temple summoned those present to prayer.

"In the evening I will finish the explanations," said Pentuer; "now I will say a few words in addition.

"Ye inquire, worthy fathers, why I use beans for these pictures. I do so because a grain put in the ground brings a harvest to the husbandmen yearly; so a man brings tribute every year to the treasury.

"If in any province two million less beans are sown than in past years, the following harvest will be notably less, and the earth-tillers will have a poorer income. In the state also, when two millions of population are gone, the inflow of taxes must diminish."

Ramses listened with attention, and walked away in silence.



CHAPTER XXVIII

WHEN the priests and the heir to the throne returned to the courtyard in the evening, several hundred torches were gleaming so brightly that it was as clear there as in the daytime.

At a sign from Mefres there came out again a procession of musicians, dancers, and minor priests carrying a statue of the cow-headed Hator; and when they had driven away evil sprits, Pentuer began to explain again.

"Ye see, worthy fathers," said he, "that since the time of the nineteenth dynasty a hundred thousand measures of land and two million people have vanished out of Egypt. This explains why the income of the state has decreased thirty-two thousand talents; that it has decreased is known to all of us.

"But this is only the beginning of misfortunes to the state and the treasury. Ninety-eight thousand talents of income apparently remain to his holiness. But do ye think that the pharaoh receives all this income?

"I will tell you what his worthiness Herhor discovered in the province of the Hare.

"During the nineteenth dynasty twenty thousand people dwelt in that province; they paid three hundred and fifty talents of yearly taxes. To day there are hardly fifteen thousand, and these, of course, pay the treasury only two hundred and seventy talents. Meanwhile the pharaoh, instead of receiving two hundred and seventy talents, receives one hundred and seventy.

"'Why is that?' inquired Herhor; and this is what an investigation discovered: During the nineteenth dynasty there were in the district about one hundred officials, and these received each one thousand drachmas yearly salary. Today in that same district, though the people have decreased, there are more than two hundred officials who receive two thousand five hundred drachmas yearly.

"It is unknown to his worthiness Herhor if this is the case in every district. But this much is certain, that the treasury of the pharaoh, instead of ninety-eight thousand talents annually, has only seventy- four thousand."

"Say, worthy father, fifty thousand," interrupted Ramses.

"I will explain that too," replied Pentuer. "In every case remember, prince, that the pharaoh's treasury pays today twenty-four thousand talents to officials, while it gave only ten thousand during the nineteenth dynasty."

Deep silence reigned among the dignitaries, for more than one of them had a relative in office, well paid moreover. But Pentuer was unterrified.

"Now," continued he, "I will show thee, O heir, the manner of life among officials, and the lot of common people in those old times and in our day."

"Will it not take too much time? Besides, every man can see for himself," murmured the priests, very promptly.

"I wish to know this," said the prince, with decision.

The murmur ceased. Pentuer went down along the steps of the amphitheatre to the court, and after him went the prince, the high priests, Mefres and the others.

They halted before a long curtain of mats, forming as it were a palisade. At a sign from Pentuer some tens of minor priests hastened up with blazing torches. Another sign, and a portion of the curtain fell.

From the lips of those present came a shout of admiration. They had before them a brightly illuminated tableau in which about one hundred persons were the characters.

The tableau was divided into three stories; on the lower story stood earth-tillers, on a higher were officials, and on the highest was the golden throne of the pharaoh resting on two lions whose heads were the arms of the throne.

"It was in this way," said Pentuer, "during the nineteenth dynasty. Look at the earth-tillers. At their ploughs ye see sometimes oxen, sometimes asses; their picks, spades, and shovels are bronze, and hence are lasting. See what stalwart men they are! Today one could find such only in the guard of his holiness. Their hands and feet are strong, their breasts full, their faces smiling. All are bathed and anointed with olive oil. Their wives are occupied in preparing food and clothing or in washing house utensils; the children are at school or are playing.

"The laborer of that time, as ye see, ate wheaten bread, beans, flesh, fish, and fruit; he drank beer or wine, and see how beautiful were the plates and pitchers. Look at the caps, aprons, and capes of the men: all adorned with various-colored needlework. Still more beautifully embroidered were the skirts of women. And note how carefully they combed their hair, what brooches, earrings, and bracelets they had. Those ornaments were made of bronze and colored enamel; even gold was found among them, though only in the form of wire.

"Raise now your eyes to officials. They wore mantles, but every laborer wore just such a dress on holidays. They lived exactly as did laborers, that is, in sufficiency, but modestly. Their furniture was ornamented somewhat more than that of laborers, and gold rings were found oftener in their caskets. They made journeys on asses, or in cars drawn by oxen."

Pentuer clapped his hands and on the stage there was movement. The laborers gave the officials baskets of grapes, bags of barley, peas and wheat, jugs of wine, beer, milk and honey, game and stuffs, many pieces white or colored. The officials took these products, kept a portion for themselves, but the choicest and most costly they put up higher, for the throne. The platform where stood the symbol of the pharaoh's power was covered with products which formed as it were a small mountain.

"Ye see, worthy men," said Pentuer, "that in those times, when earth- tillers were satisfied and wealthy, the treasury of his holiness could hardly find place for the gifts of his subjects. But see what is happening in our day."

At a new signal a second part of the curtain fell, and another tableau appeared, similar to the preceding in general outline.

"Here are our laborers of the present," said Pentuer, and in his voice indignation was evident. "Their bodies are skin and bones, they look like sick persons, they are filthy and have forgotten to anoint themselves with olive oil, but their backs are wounded from beating.

"Neither oxen nor asses are near them, for what need is there of those beasts if ploughs are drawn by women and children? Picks and shovels are wooden, they spoil easily and that increases men's labor. They have no clothes whatever; only women wear coarse shirts, and not even in a dream do they look at embroidery, though their grandfathers and grandmothers wore it."

"Look now at the food of the earth-tillers. At times barley and dried fish, lotus seed always, rarely a wheat cake, never flesh, beer, or wine.

"Ask them where their utensils and furniture are. They have none, unless a pitcher for water; nothing could find room in the dens which they inhabit.

"Pardon me now for that to which I turn your attention: Over there a number of children are lying on the ground; that means that they are dead. It is wonderful how many children of laborers die from toil and hunger. And those that die are the happiest, for they who survive go under the club of the overseer, or are sold to the Phoenician as lambs to the slaughter."

Emotion stopped his voice; he rested awhile, and then continued amid the angry silence of the priesthood,

"And now look at the officials, how animated they are in rouge, how beautiful their clothes are! Their wives wear gold bracelets and earrings, and such fine garments that princes might envy them. Among laborers not an ox or an ass is now visible, but to make up officials journey on horseback or in litters. They drink only wine, and that of good quality."

He clapped his hands, and again there was movement. The laborers gave the officials bags of wheat, baskets of fruit, wine, game. These objects the officials as before placed near the throne, but in quantities considerably smaller. On the pharaoh's platform there was no longer a mountain of products, but the platform of the officials was covered.

"This is the Egypt of our day," continued Pentuer. "Laborers are in indigence, scribes are wealthy, the treasury is not so full as it once was. But now."

He gave a sign, and a thing unexpected took place there before them.

Certain hands seized grain, fruit, stuffs from the platforms of the pharaoh and the officials; and when the amount of the goods had decreased greatly, those same hands began to seize and lead away laborers, their wives and children.

The spectators looked with amazement at the peculiar methods of those mysterious persons. Suddenly some one cried out,

"Those are Phoenicians! They plunder us in that way."

"That is it, holy fathers," said Pentuer. "Those are the hands of Phoenicians concealed in the midst of us; they plunder the pharaoh and the scribes, and lead away laborers captive when there is nothing to drag from them."

"Yes! They are jackals! A curse on Phoenicians! Expel them, the wretches!" cried the priests. "It is they who inflict the greatest damage on Egypt."

Not all, however, shouted in that way.

When there was silence, Pentuer commanded to take the torches to the other side of the court, and thither he conducted his hearers. There were no tableaux there, but a kind of industrial exhibition.

"Be pleased to look," said he. "During the nineteenth dynasty foreigners sent us these things: we received perfumes from Punt; gold, iron weapons, and chariots of war came from Syria. That is all.

"But Egypt manufactured in those days. Look at these immense pitchers, how many forms, and what a variety of colors.

"Or the furniture: that armchair was made of ten thousand pieces of gold, mother-of-pearl, and woods of various hues. Look at the robes of that period: what embroidery, what delicacy of material, how many colors! And the bronze swords, the brooches, bracelets, earrings and implements of tillage and crafts of various descriptions. All these were made in this country during the nineteenth dynasty."

He passed to the next group of objects.

"But today, look: the pitchers are small and almost without ornament, the furniture is simple, the stuffs coarse and devoid of variety. Not one thing made today can we compare as to shape, durability, or beauty with those of former ages. Why has this happened?"

He advanced a number of steps again, surrounded by torches.

"Here is a great number of things," said he, "which the Phoenicians bring us from various regions. Some tens of kinds of incense, colored glass, furniture, vessels, woven stuffs, chariots, ornaments, all these come from Asia and are bought by us.

"Do ye understand now, worthy fathers, why the Phoenicians tear away grain, fruit, and cattle from the scribes and the pharaoh? In pay for those foreign goods which have destroyed our artisans as locusts destroy vegetation.

"Among things obtained through Phoenicians for his holiness, the nomarchs, and the scribes, gold has the first place.

"This kind of commerce is the most accurate picture of calamities inflicted on Egypt by Asia.

"When a man borrows gold to the amount of one talent, he is obliged in three years to return two talents. But most frequently the Phoenicians, under pretext of decreasing trouble for the debtor, assure payment in their own way: that is, debtors for each talent borrowed give them as tenants for three years two measures of land and thirty-two people.

"See there, worthy fathers," said he, pointing to a part of the court which was better lighted. "That square of land one hundred and ten yards in length and as wide signifies two measures; the men, women, and children of that crowd mean eight families. All that together: people and land pass for three years into dreadful captivity. During that time their owner, the pharaoh or a nomarch, has no profit at all from them; at the end of that term he receives the land back exhausted, and of the people, twenty in number at the very highest, the rest have died under torture!"

Those present shuddered with horror.

"I have said that the Phoenician takes two measures of land and thirty- two people for three years in exchange for one talent. See what a space of laud and what a crowd of people; look now at my hand.

"This piece of gold which I grasp here, this lump, less than a hen's egg in size, is a talent.

"Can you estimate the complete insignificance of the Phoenicians in this commerce? This small lump of gold has no real value: it is yellow, it is heavy, a man cannot eat it, and that is the end of the matter. A man does not clothe himself with gold and he cannot stop his hunger or thirst with it. If he had a lump of gold as big as the pyramid, he would be as poor at the foot of it as a Libyan wandering through the western desert where there is neither a date nor a drop of water.

"And see, for a piece of this barren metal a Phoenician takes a piece of land which suffices to feed and clothe thirty-two people, and besides that he takes the people. For three years he exercises power over beings who know how to cultivate land, gather in grain, make flour and beer, weave garments, build houses, and make furniture.

"At the same time the pharaoh or the nomarch is deprived for three years of the services of those people. They pay him no tribute, they carry no burdens for the army, but they toil to give income to the greedy Phoenician.

"Ye know, worthy fathers, that at present there is not a year during which in this or that province an insurrection does not break out among laborers exhausted by hunger, borne down by toil, or beaten with sticks. And some of those men perish, others are sent to the quarries, while the country is depopulated more and more for this reason only, that the Phoenician gave a lump of gold to some land-owner! Is it possible to imagine greater misery? And is Egypt not to lose land and people yearly under such conditions? Victorious wars undermined Egypt, but Phoenician gold-dealers are finishing it."

On the faces of the priests satisfaction was depicted; they were more willing to hear of the guile of Phoenicians than the excesses of scribes throughout Egypt.

Pentuer rested awhile, then he turned to the viceroy.

"For some months," said he, "Ramses, O servant of the gods, Thou hast been inquiring why the income of his holiness is diminished. The wisdom of the gods has shown thee that not only the treasure has decreased but also the army, and that both those sources of royal power will decrease still further. And the end will be utter ruin for this country, unless heaven sends down a ruler who will stop the inundation of misery which for some hundreds of years is overwhelming Egypt.

"The treasury of the pharaohs was full when we had more land and people. We must win back from the desert the fertile lands which it has swallowed, and remove from the people those burdens which weaken and kill them."

The priests were alarmed again, lest Pentuer might mention scribes for the second time.

"Thou hast seen, prince, with thy own eyes and before witnesses, that in the epoch when people were well nourished, stalwart, and satisfied, the treasury of the pharaoh was full. But when people began to look wretched, when they were forced to plough with their wives and children, when lotus seed took the place of wheat and flesh, the treasury grew needy. If Thou wish therefore to bring the state to that power which it had before the wars of the nineteenth dynasty, if Thou desire that the pharaoh, his scribes, and his army should live in plenty, assure long peace to the land and prosperity to the people. Let grown persona eat flesh again and dress in embroidered garments, and let children, instead of groaning and dying under blows, play, or go to school.

"Remember, finally, that Egypt bears within its bosom a deadly serpent."

Those present listened with fear and curiosity.

"That serpent which is sucking at the blood of the people, the property of the nomarchs, and the power of the pharaoh is the Phoenician!"

"Away with the Phoenicians!" cried the priests. "Blot out all debts to them. Admit not their ships and merchants."

Silence was enforced by the high priest Mefres, who with tears in his eyes turned to Pentuer.

"I doubt not," said he, "that the holy Hator is speaking through thy lips to us. Not only because no man could be so wise and all-knowing as Thou art, but besides I have seen two flames, as horns, above thy forehead. I thank thee for the great words with which Thou hast dispelled our ignorance. I bless thee, and I pray the gods when I am summoned before them to make thee my advocate."

An unbroken shout from the rest of the assembly supported the blessing of the highest dignitary. The priests were the better satisfied, since alarm had hung over them lest Pentuer might refer to the scribes a second time. But the sage knew how to restrain himself: he indicated the internal wound of the state, but he did not inflame it, and therefore his triumph was perfect.

Prince Ramses did not thank Pentuer, he only dropped his head to his own bosom. No one doubted, however, that the discourse of the prophet had shaken the soul of the heir, and that it was a seed from which prosperity and glory might spring up for Egypt.

Next morning Pentuer, without taking farewell of any, left the temple at sunrise and journeyed away in the direction of Memphis.

For a number of days Prince Ramses held converse with no man, he meditated; he sat in his cell, or walked up and down the shady corridors. Work in his soul was progressing.

In reality Pentuer had declared no new truth; all had been complaining of the decrease of laud and people in Egypt, of the misery of workmen, the abuses of scribes, and the extortion of Phoenicians. But the discourse of the prophet had given them tangible forms, and illustrated facts very clearly.

The Phoenicians terrified the prince; he had not estimated till that time the enormity of the misfortunes brought on people of Egypt by those merchants. His horror was all the more vivid, since he had rented out his own subjects to Dagon, and was himself witness of the way in which the banker collected his dues from them.

But his entanglement in the business of Phoenicians produced strange results in Ramses. He did not wish to think of Phoenicians, and whenever anger flamed up in his mind against those strangers the feeling of shame was destroyed in him. He was in a certain sense their confederate. Meanwhile he understood perfectly how serious the decrease was in land and in people, and on this he placed the main emphasis in his lonely meditation.

"If we had," said he to himself, "those two millions of people lost by Egypt, we might through help from them win back those fertile lands from the desert, we might even extend those lands. And then in spite of Phoenicians our laborers would be in a better condition, and there would be also increase in the income of Egypt. But where can we find men?"

Chance gave the answer.

On a certain evening the prince, while walking through the gardens of the temple, met a crowd of captives whom Nitager had seized on the eastern boundary and sent to the goddess Hator. Those people were perfectly built, they did more work than Egyptians, and they did it because they were properly nourished, hence even satisfied with their position.

When he saw them, his mind was cleared as if by a lightning flash. He almost lost presence of mind from emotion. The country needs men, many men, hundreds of thousands, even a million, two millions. And here are men! The only need was to turn to Asia, seize all whom they might meet on the road, and send them to Egypt. War must continue till so many were taken that every earth-tiller from the cataract to the sea might have his own bondman.

Thus rose a plan, colossal and simple, thanks to which Egypt would find population, the earth-tillers aid in their labor, and the treasury of the pharaoh an endless source of income.

The prince was enchanted, though next day a new doubt sprang up in him.

Pentuer had announced with great emphasis, while Herhor had asserted still earlier, that victorious wars were the source of misfortune for the country. From this it resulted that to raise Egypt by a new war was impossible.

"Pentuer is a great sage, and so is Herhor," thought Ramses. "If they consider war harmful, if the high priest Mefres and other priests judge in the same way, then perhaps war is in fact dangerous. It must be dangerous, if so many holy and wise men insist thus."

Ramses was deeply disappointed. He had thought out a simple method of elevating Egypt, but the priests maintained that that was the true way to ruin it. The priests are most holy, and they are wise men.

But something happened which cooled the faith of the prince somewhat in the truthful speech of the priests, or rather it roused his previous distrust of them.

Once he was going with a certain leech to the library. The way lay through a dark and narrow corridor from which the heir drew back with repulsion.

"I will not go by this way," said he.

"Why not?" inquired the leech, with astonishment.

"Dost Thou not remember, holy father, that at the end of that corridor is an opening in which a certain traitor was tortured to death without pity."

"Aha!" answered the leech. "There is an opening there into which we poured boiling pitch at command of Pentuer."

"And ye killed a man."

The leech smiled. He was a kindly, gladsome person. So, observing the indignation of the prince, he said after some meditation,

"It is not permitted to betray temple secrets. Of course, before each of the greater solemnities, we bring this to the mind of younger candidates."

His tone was so peculiar that Ramses required explanation.

"I cannot betray secrets," replied the leech; "but promise, worthiness, to hide a story in thy breast, and I will tell thee one."

Ramses promised. The leech gave this narrative:

"A certain Egyptian priest, while visiting temples in the unbelieving land of Aram, met at one of them a man who seemed to him in good flesh and satisfied, though he wore wretched garments. 'Explain to me,' said the priest to the gladsome poor man, 'how it is that, though Thou art indigent, thy body looks as though Thou wert chief of this temple.'

"That man looked around then to see if any one were listening, and answered,

"'I am fat, because my voice is very woeful; hence I am a martyr at this temple. When people come to service here, I crawl into an opening and groan with all the strength that is in my body; for this they give me food abundantly throughout the year, and a large jug of beer every day when I am tortured.'

"Thus do they manage in the unbelieving land of Aram," said the leech, as he raised a finger to his lips, and added, "Remember, prince, what Thou hast promised, and of boiling pitch in this place think whatever suits thee."

This story roused the prince anew; he felt relief because a man had not been killed in the temple, but all his earlier distrust of priests sprang into life again.

That they deluded simple people, he knew. He remembered the priests' procession with the sacred bull Apis, while he was in their school. The people were convinced that Apis led the priests, while every student saw that the divine beast went in whatever direction priests drove him.

Who could tell, therefore, that Pentuer's discourse was not intended for him, as that procession of Apis for the people? For that matter, it was easy to put on the ground beans of red or other colors, and also it was not difficult to arrange tableaux. How much more splendid were those exhibitions which he had seen, even the struggles of Set with Osiris, in which a number of hundreds of persons assisted. But in that case, too, did not the priests deceive people? That was given as a battle of the gods: meanwhile it was carried on by men in disguise. In it Osiris perished, but the priest who represented Osiris came out as sound as a rhinoceros. What wonders did they not exhibit there! Water rose; there were peals of thunder; the earth trembled and vomited fire. And that was all deception. Why should the exhibition made by Pentuer be true? Besides, the prince had discovered strong indications that they wished to deceive him. The man groaning underground and covered, as it were, with boiling pitch by the priests was deception. But let that pass. The prince had convinced himself frequently that Herhor did not want war; Mefres also did not want it. Pentuer was the assistant of one of them, and the favorite of the other.

Such a struggle was taking place in the prince that it seemed to him at one time that he understood everything, at another that he was surrounded by darkness; now he was full of hope, and now he doubted everything. From hour to hour, from day to day, his soul rose and fell like the waters of the Nile in the course of its yearly changes.

Gradually, however, the prince recovered his balance, and when the time came to leave the temple, he had formulated certain views of the problem.

First of all, he understood clearly that Egypt needed more land and more people. Second, he believed that the simplest way to find men was a war with Asia. But Pentuer had proved to him that war could only heighten the disaster. A new question rose then, did Pentuer speak the truth, or was he lying? If he spoke the truth, he plunged the prince in despair, for Ramses saw no means to raise the state except war. Unless war were made, Egypt would lose population yearly, and the treasury of the pharaoh would increase its debts till the whole process would end in some ghastly overthrow, perhaps even in the reign of the coming pharaoh.

"But if Pentuer lied? Why should he lie? Evidently because Herhor, Mefres, and the whole priestly corporation had persuaded him to act thus.

"But why did priests oppose war? What interests had they in opposing? Every war brought immense profit to them and the pharaoh.

"But would the priests deceive him in an affair so far reaching? It is true that they deceived very often, but in small matters, not when it was a question of the future and the existence of the state. It was not possible to assert that they deceived always. Besides, they were the servants of the gods, and the guardians of great secrets." Spirits resided in their temples; of this Ramses convinced himself on the first night after he had come to that temple of Hator.

"But if the gods did not permit the uninitiated to approach their altars, if they watched so carefully over temples, why did they not watch over Egypt, which is the greatest of all temples?"

When some days later Ramses, after a solemn religious service, left the temple of Hator amid the blessings of the priests, two questions were agitating him,

Could war with Asia really harm Egypt? Could the priests in this question be deceiving him, the heir to the throne?



CHAPTER XXIX

THE prince journeyed on horseback in company with a number of officers to Pi-Bast, the famous capital of the province of Habu.

The month Paoni had passed, Epiphi was beginning (April and May). The sun stood high, heralding the most violent season of heat for Egypt. A mighty wind from the desert had blown in repeatedly; men and beasts fell because of heat, and on fields and trees a gray dust had begun to settle under which vegetation was dying.

Roses had been harvested and turned into oil; wheat had been gathered as well as the second crop of clover. The sweeps and buckets moved with double energy, irrigating the earth with dirty water to fit it for new seed. Men had begun to gather grapes and figs. The Nile had fallen, water in canals was low and of evil odor. Above the whole country a fine dust was borne along in a deluge of burning sun-rays.

In spite of this Prince Ramses rode on and felt gladsome. The life of a penitent in the temple had grown irksome; he yearned for feasts, uproar, and women.

Meanwhile the country, intersected with a net of canals, though flat and monotonous, was pleasing. In the province of Habu lived people of another origin: not the old Egyptians, but descendants of the valiant Hyksos, who on a time had conquered Egypt and governed that laud for a number of generations.

The old Egyptians despised this remnant of a conquering race expelled from power afterward, but Ramses looked on them with satisfaction. They were large and strong, their bearing was proud, and there was manly energy in their faces. They did not fall prostrate before the prince and his officers, like Egyptians, but looked at him without dislike, but also without timidity. Neither were their shoulders covered with scars from beating; the scribes respected them because they knew that if a Hyksos were beaten he would return the blows, and might kill the man who gave them. Moreover the Hyksos enjoyed the pharaoh's favor, for their people furnished the choicest warriors.

As the retinue of the heir approached Pi-Bast, whose temples and palaces were visible through the haze of dust, as through a veil of muslin, the neighborhood grew more active. Along the broad highway and the canals men were taking to market cattle, wheat, fruit, wine, flowers, bread, and a multitude of other articles of daily consumption. The torrent of people and goods moving toward the city was as noisy and dense as that outside Memphis in the holiday season. Around Pi-Bast reigned throughout the whole year the uproar of a market-day, which ceased only in the night time.

The cause of this was simple. In that city stood the renowned and ancient temple of Astarte. This temple was revered throughout Western Asia and attracted throngs of pilgrims. It could be said without exaggeration that outside Pi-Bast thirty thousand strangers camped daily, Arabs, Phoenicians, Jews, Philistines, Hittites, Assyrians, and others. The Egyptian government bore itself kindly toward these pilgrims, who brought it a considerable income; the priests endured them, and the people of neighboring provinces carried on an active trade with them.

For the space of an hour's journey from Pi-Bast the mud huts and tents of strangers covered the open country. As one neared the city, those huts increased in number and transient inhabitants swarmed more and more densely around them. Some were preparing food under the open sky, others were purchasing provisions which came in continually, still others were going in procession to the temple. Here and there were large crowds before places of amusement, where beast-tamers, serpent- charmers, athletes, female dancers, and jugglers exhibited their adroitness.

Above all this multitude of people were heat and uproar.

Before the gate of the city Ramses was greeted by his court and by the nomarch of Habu surrounded by his officials. But the greeting, despite cordiality, was so cold that the astonished viceroy, whispered to Tutmosis,

"What does this mean, that he looks on me as if I had come to measure out punishment?"

"Because Thou hast the face of a man who has been associating with divinity."

He spoke truth. Whether because of ascetic life, or the society of priests, or of long meditation, the prince had changed greatly. He had grown thin, his complexion had darkened, and in his face and bearing much dignity was evident. In the course of weeks he had grown some years older.

On one of the main streets of the city there was such a dense throng of people that the police had to open a way for the heir and his retinue. But these people did not greet the prince; they had merely gathered around a small palace as if waiting for some person.

"What is this?" asked Ramses of the nomarch, for this indifference of the throng touched the prince disagreeably.

"Here dwells Hiram," answered the nomarch, "a prince of Tyre, a man of great charity. Every day he distributes bountiful alms, therefore poor people rush to him."

Ramses turned on his horse, looked, and said,

"I see there laborers of the pharaoh. So they too go for alms to the rich Phoenician?"

The nomarch was silent. Happily they approached the official palace, and the prince forgot Hiram.

Feasts in honor of the viceroy continued a number of days in succession, but they did not please him. Gladness was lacking and disagreeable incidents happened.

One day a favorite of the prince was dancing before him; she burst into tears. Ramses seized her in his arms, and asked what her trouble was.

At first she hesitated, but emboldened by the kindness of her lord, she answered, shedding tears in still greater abundance,

"We are thy women, O ruler, we come from great families, and respect is due to us."

"Thou speakest truth," said Ramses.

"Meanwhile thy treasurer stints us in allowance, and would deprive us of serving-maids, without whom we cannot bathe or dress our hair."

Ramses summoned his treasurer, and commanded sternly that his women should have all that belonged to their birth and position. The treasurer fell on his face before the prince, and promised to carry out all commands of the women. A couple of days later, a rebellion broke out among the court slaves, who complained that their wine had been taken. The heir ordered to give them wine. But during a review two days later a deputation from the regiments came to the viceroy with a most humble complaint, that their rations of meat and bread were diminished. The prince commanded that those petitioners be satisfied.

Still, two days later a great uproar at the palace roused him in the morning. Ramses inquired what the cause was; the officer on duty explained that the pharaoh's laborers had assembled and asked for arrears due them.

They summoned the treasurer, whom the prince attacked in great anger.

"What is going on here?" cried he. "Since my return there is no day without complaints of injustice. If anything like this is repeated, I shall order an inquiry and put an end to thy management."

The trembling treasurer fell on his face again, and groaned,

"Slay me, lord! But what am I to do when thy treasury, thy granaries, and thy storehouses are empty?"

In spite of his anger the prince thought that the treasurer might be innocent. He commanded him to withdraw, and then summoned Tutmosis.

"Listen to me," said Ramses to the favorite, "things are done here which I do not understand, and to which I am not accustomed. My women, the slaves, the army, the pharaoh's workmen do not receive what is due them, or their supplies are curtailed. When I asked the treasurer what this means, he answered that the treasury and the storehouses are empty."

"He told truth."

"How is that?" burst out the prince. "For my journey his holiness assigned two hundred talents in gold and goods. Can it be that all this is expended?"

"Yes," answered Tutmosis.

"How is that?" cried the viceroy. "Did not the nomarchs entertain us all the way?"

"Yes, but we paid them for doing so."

"Then they are rogues and robbers if they receive us as guests and then plunder us."

"Be not angry, and I will explain."

"Sit down."

Tutmosis took a seat.

"Dost Thou know," asked he, "that for a month past I have eaten food from thy kitchen, drunk wine from thy pitchers, and dressed from thy wardrobe?"

"Thou hast a right to that privilege."

"But I have never acted thus hitherto. I have lived, dressed, and amused myself at my own expense, so as not to burden thy treasury. It is true that Thou hast paid my debts more than once, but that was only a part of my outlay."

"Never mind the debts!"

"In a similar condition," continued Tutmosis, "are some tens of noble youths of thy court. They maintained themselves so as to uphold the splendor of the government; but now, like myself, they live at thy expense, for they have nothing to pay with."

"Sometime I will reward them."

"Now," continued Tutmosis, "we take from thy treasury, for want is oppressing us; the nomarchs do the same. If they had means they would give feasts and receptions at their own cost; but as they have not the means they receive recompense. Wilt Thou call them rogues now?"

"I condemned them too harshly. Anger, like smoke, covered my eyes," said Ramses. "I am ashamed of my words; none the less I wish that neither courtiers, soldiers, nor working men should suffer injustice. But since my means are exhausted it will be necessary to borrow. Would a hundred talents suffice? What thinkest thou?"

"I think that no one would lend us a hundred talents," whispered Tutmosis.

The viceroy looked at him haughtily.

"Is that a fit answer to the son of a pharaoh?" asked he.

"Dismiss me from thy presence," said Tutmosis, sadly, "but I have told the truth. At present no one will make us a loan, for there is no one to do so."

"What is Dagon for?" wondered the prince. "He is not near my court; is he dead?"

"Dagon is in Pi-Bast, but he spends whole days with other Phoenician merchants in the temple of Astarte in prayer and penance."

"Why such devotion? Is it because that I was in a temple that my banker thinks he too should take counsel of the gods?"

Tutmosis turned on the stool.

"The Phoenicians," said he, "are alarmed; they are even crushed by the news."

"About what?"

"Some one has spread the report, worthiness, that when Thou shalt mount the throne all Phoenicians will be expelled and their property confiscated."

"Well, they have time enough before that," laughed Ramses.

Tutmosis hesitated further. "They say," continued he, in a lowered voice, "that in recent days the health of his holiness may he live through eternity! has failed notably."

"That is untrue!" interrupted the prince, in alarm. "I should know of it."

"But the priests are performing religious services in secret for the return of health to the pharaoh. I know this to a certainty.'"'

The prince was astonished.

"How! my father seriously ill, the priests are praying for him, but tell me nothing?"

"They say that the illness of his holiness may last a year."

"Oh, Thou hearest fables and art disturbing me. Better tell me about the Phoenicians."

"I have heard," said Tutmosis, "only what every one has heard, that while in the temple Thou wert convinced of the harm done by Phoenicians, and didst bind thyself to expel them."

"In the temple?" repeated the heir. "But who knows what that is of which I convinced myself in the temple, and what I decided to do?"

Tutmosis shrugged his shoulders, and was silent.

"Was there treason, too, in the temple?" thought the prince. "Summon Dagon in every case," said he, aloud. "I must know the source of these lies, and by the gods, I will end them."

"Thou wilt do well, for all Egypt is frightened. Even today there is no one to lend money, and if those reports continue all commerce will cease. Our aristocracy have fallen into trouble from which none see the issue, and even thy court is in want. A month hence the same thing may happen in the palace of his holiness."

"Silence!" interrupted the prince, "and call Dagon this moment."

Tutmosis ran out, but the banker appeared no earlier than evening. Around a white mantle he wore a black belt.

"Hast Thou gone mad?" cried the heir, at sight of this. "I will drive off thy sadness immediately. I need a hundred talents at once. Go, and show thyself not till Thou bring them."

The banker covered his face and wept.

"What does this mean?" asked the prince, quickly.

"Lord," exclaimed Dagon, as he fell on his knees, "seize all my property, sell me and my family. Take everything, even our lives but a hundred talents where could I find wealth like that? Neither in Egypt nor Phoenicia," continued he, sobbing.

"Set has seized thee, O Dagon," laughed the heir. "Couldst Thou believe that I thought of expelling thy Phoenicians?"

The banker fell at the prince's feet a second time.

"I know nothing I am a common merchant, and thy slave as many days as there are between the new and the full moon would suffice to make dust of me and spittle of my property."

"But explain what this means," said the prince, again impatient.

"I cannot explain anything, and even were I able I have a great seal on my lips. I do nothing now but pray and lament."

"Do the Phoenicians pray also?" thought the prince.

"Unable to render any service," continued Dagon, "I will give good counsel at least. There is here in Pi-Bast a renowned Syrian, Prince Hiram, an old man, wise and tremendously wealthy. Summon him, Erpatr, ask of him a hundred talents; perhaps he will be able to gratify thee."

Since Ramses could get no explanations from the banker, he dismissed him, and promised to send an embassy to Hiram.



CHAPTER XXX

NEXT day Tutmosis, with a great suite of officers and attendants, paid a visit to the Phoenician prince, and invited him to the viceroy.

In the afternoon Hiram appeared before the palace in a simple litter borne by eight poor Egyptians to whom he gave alms. He was surrounded by the most notable Phoenician merchants, and that same throng of people who stood before his house daily.

Ramses greeted with a certain astonishment the old man out of whose eyes wisdom was gazing and in whose whole bearing there was dignity. He bowed gravely before the viceroy, and raising his hands above his head, pronounced a short blessing. Those present were deeply affected.

When the viceroy indicated an armchair and commanded his courtiers to withdraw, Hiram said,

"Yesterday thy servant Dagon informed me that the prince needs a hundred talents. I sent out my couriers at once to Sabne-Chetam, Sethroe, Pi-Uto, and other cities where there are Phoenician ships, asking them to land all their goods. I think that in a day or two Thou wilt receive this small sum."

"Small!" interrupted Ramses, with a smile. "Thou art happy if Thou call a hundred talents a small sum."

Hiram nodded.

"Thy grandfather, worthiness," said he, after a while, "the eternally living Ramses-sa-Ptah, honored me with his friendship; I know also his holiness, thy father may he live through eternity! and I will even try to lay before him my homage, if I be permitted."

"Whence could a doubt arise?" interrupted the prince.

"There are persons," replied the guest, "who admit some to the face of the pharaoh and refuse others but never mind them. Thou art not to blame for this; hence I venture to lay before thee one question, as an old friend of thy father and his father."

"I am listening."

"What means it," asked Hiram, slowly, "that the heir to the throne and a viceroy must borrow a hundred talents when more than a hundred thousand are due Egypt?"

"Whence?" cried Ramses.

"From the tribute of Asiatic peoples. Phoenicia owes five thousand; well, Phoenicia will pay, I guarantee that, unless some events happen. But, besides, Israel owes three thousand, the Philistines and the Moabites each two thousand, the Hittites thirty thousand. Finally, I do not remember details, but I know that the total reaches a hundred and three or a hundred and five thousand talents."

Ramses gnawed his lips, but on his vivacious countenance helpless anger was evident. He dropped his eyes and was silent.

"It is true," said Hiram, on a sudden, and looking sharply at the viceroy. "Poor Phoenicia but also Egypt."

"What dost Thou say?" asked the prince, frowning. "I understand not thy questions."

"Prince, Thou knowest what it is of which I speak, since Thou dost not answer my question," replied Hiram; and he rose as if to withdraw. "Still, I withdraw not my promise. Thou wilt receive a hundred talents."

He made a low bow, but the viceroy forced him to sit down again.

"Thou art hiding something," said Ramses, in a voice in which offence was evident. "I would hear thee explain what danger threatens Egypt or Phoenicia."

"Hast Thou not heard?" asked Hiram, with hesitation.

"I know nothing. I have passed more than a month in the temple."

"That is just the place in which to learn everything."

"Tell me, worthiness," said the viceroy, striking the table with his fist. "I am not pleased when men are amused at my expense."

"Give a great promise not to betray me to any one and I will tell, though I cannot believe that they have not informed the heir of this."

"Dost Thou not trust me?" asked the astonished prince.

"In this affair I should require a promise from the pharaoh himself," answered Hiram, with decision.

"If I swear on my sword, and the standards of my troops, that I will tell no man."

"Enough," said Hiram.

"I am listening."

"Does the prince know what is happening at this moment in Phoenicia?"

"I know nothing of that, even," interrupted the irritated viceroy.

"Our ships," whispered Hiram, "are coming home from all parts of the earth to convey at the first signal our people and treasures to some place beyond the sea to the west."

"Why?" asked the astounded viceroy.

"Because Assyria is to take us under her dominion."

"Thou hast gone mad, worthy man!" exclaimed Ramses. "Assyria to take Phoenicia! But we? Egypt what would we say to that?"

"Egypt has consented already."

Blood rushed to the prince's head.

"The heat has disturbed thy mind, aged man," said he, in a calm voice. "Thou hast forgotten, even, that such an affair could not take place without the pharaoh's permission and mine."

"That will follow. Meanwhile the priests have concluded a treaty."

"With whom? What priests?"

"With Beroes, the high priest of Chaldea, at commission of King Assar," said Hiram. "And who from your side? I will not state to a certainty. But it seems to me that his worthiness Herhor, his worthiness Mefres, and the holy prophet Pentuer."