Sarah wound a garment around the puling child, and left the room, whispering,

"O God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, have mercy on us!"

She bowed low before the prince, and from her eyes tears flowed in silence.

While she was still in the antechamber, Ramses heard her sweet voice,

"God of Abraham Isa."

When all was quiet, the viceroy called the officer and steward.

"Go with torches to the house among the fig-trees."

"I understand," replied the steward.

"And conduct hither, immediately, the woman who dwells there."

"It will be done."

"Thenceforth that woman will be thy mistress and the mistress of Sarah; the Jewess must wash the feet of her mistress every morning, pour water to her, and hold a mirror before her. That is my will, my command."

"It shall be accomplished," said the steward.

"And to-morrow morning Thou wilt tell me if the new servant is stubborn."

When he had given these commands, he returned home; but he did not sleep that night. He felt that without raising his voice for a moment he had crushed Sarah, the wretched Jewess, who had dared to deceive him. He had punished her as a king who with one movement of the eye dashes people down from heights into the abyss of servitude. But Sarah was merely an instrument of the priests, and the heir had too great a feeling of justice to forgive the real authors when he had broken the instrument.

His rage was intensified all the more because the priests were unassailable. He might send out Sarah with her child in the middle of the night to the servants' house, but he could not deprive Herhor of his power, nor Mefres of the high priesthood. Sarah had fallen at his feet, like a trampled worm; but Herhor and Mefres, who had snatched his first-born from him, towered above Egypt, and, oh, shame! above him, the corning pharaoh, like pyramids.

And he could not tell how often in that year he had recalled the wrongs which priests had inflicted. At school they had beaten him with sticks till his back was swollen, or had tortured him with hunger till his stomach and spine had grown together. At the maneuvers of the year past, Herhor spoiled his whole plan, then put the blame on him, and took away the command of an army corps. That same Herhor drew on Mm the displeasure of his holiness because he had taken Sarah to his house, and did not restore him to honor till the humiliated prince had passed a couple of months in a voluntary exile.

It would seem that when he had been leader of a corps and was viceroy the priests would cease tormenting him with their guardianship. But just then they appeared with redoubled energy. They had made him viceroy; for what purpose? to remove him from the pharaoh, and conclude a shameful treaty with Assyria. They had used force in such form that he betook himself to the temple as a penitent to obtain information concerning the condition of the state; there they deceived him through miracles and terrors, and gave thoroughly false explanations.

Next they interfered with his amusements, his women, his relations with the pharaoh, his debts, and, finally, to humiliate and render him ridiculous in the eyes of Egyptians, they made his first-born a Hebrew.

Where was the laborer, where the slave, where an Egyptian convict in the quarries who had not the right to say, "I am better than thou, the viceroy, for no son of mine is a Hebrew."

Feeling the weight of the insult, Ramses understood at the same time that he could not avenge himself immediately. Hence he determined to defer that affair to the future. In the school of the priests he had learned self-command, in the court he had learned deceit and patience; those qualities became a weapon and a shield to him in his battle with the priesthood. Till he was ready he would lead them into error, and when the moment came he would strike so hard that they would never rise again.

It began to dawn. The heir fell asleep, and when he woke the first person he saw was the steward of Sarah's villa.

"What of the Jewess?" asked the prince.

"According to thy command, worthiness, she washed the feet of her new mistress," answered the official.

"Was she stubborn?"

"She was full of humility, but not adroit enough; so the angry lady struck the Jewess with her foot between the eyebrows."

The prince sprang up.

"And what did Sarah do?" inquired he, quickly.

"She fell to the pavement. And when the new mistress commanded her to go, she went out, weeping noiselessly."

The prince walked up and down in the chamber.

"How did she pass the night?"

"The new lady?"

"No! I ask about Sarah."

"According to command, Sarah went with her child to the servants' house. The women, from compassion, yielded a fresh mat to her, but she did not lie down to sleep; she sat the whole night with her child on her knees."

"But how is the child?" asked Ramses.

"The child is well. This morning, when the Jewess went to serve her new mistress, the other women bathed the little one in warm water, and the shepherd's wife, who also has an infant, gave her breast to it."

The prince stopped before the steward.

"It is wrong," said he, "when a cow instead of suckling its calf goes to the plough and is beaten. Though this Jewess has committed a great offence, I do not wish that her innocent child should be a sufferer. Therefore Sarah will not wash the feet of the new lady again, and will not be kicked between the eyes by her a second time. Thou wilt set aside for her use in the servants' house a room with food and furniture such as are proper for a woman recovered recently from childbirth. And let her nourish her infant in peace there."

"Live Thou through eternity, our ruler!" answered the steward; and he ran quickly to carry out the commands of the viceroy.

All the servants loved Sarah, and in a few days they had occasion to hate the angry and turbulent Kama.



CHAPTER XXXIX

THE priestess brought little happiness to the viceroy. When he came the first time to visit her in the villa occupied recently by Sarah, he thought: "I shall be met with delight now and gratitude."

Meanwhile Kama received him almost with anger.

"What is this?" cried she. "A half day has passed, and that wretched Jewess is restored to thy favor."

"Does she not dwell in the servants' house?" asked the prince.

"But my steward says that she will wash my feet no longer."

When the prince heard this, a feeling of disgust seized him.

"Thou art not satisfied, I see," said he.

"I shall not be satisfied till I humiliate that Jewess," cried Kama, "till she, by serving me and kneeling at my feet, forgets that she was once thy first woman and the mistress of this villa. I shall not be satisfied till my servants cease to look at me with fear and without confidence, and on her with compassion."

The Phoenician woman was less and less pleasing to Ramses.

"Kama," said he, "consider what I tell thee: If a servant here were to kick in the teeth a female dog that was suckling its young, I should hunt that servant out of this villa. Thou hast struck with thy foot between the eyes a woman and a mother. In Egypt mother is a great word. A good Egyptian reverences three things beyond all others, the gods, the pharaoh, and his own mother."

"Oh, woe to me!" cried Kama, throwing herself on the couch. "Here is my reward, wretched woman, for denying my goddess. One week ago men placed flowers at my feet and burnt incense before me, but today."

The prince walked out of the chamber quietly, and saw the priestess again only after some days had passed.

But she was still in evil humor.

"I implore thee, lord," cried she, "think a little more of me. My servants even begin to contemn me, the warriors look at me with a frown, and I am afraid that some one in the kitchen may poison the food prepared for me."

"I was occupied with the army, so I could not visit thee," replied the viceroy.

"That is untrue," answered Kama, in anger. "Yesterday Thou wert outside the entrance to this house, and then Thou didst go to the servants' house, where dwells the Jewess. Thou didst this to show."

"Enough!" interrupted the prince. "I was neither here nor at the servants' house. If it seemed to thee that Thou wert looking at me, that means that thy lover, that worthless Greek, not only has not left Egypt, but even dares to wander through my garden."

The Phoenician woman heard him with fright.

"Astaroth!" cried she, suddenly. "Save me! Hide me, O earth! for if that wretch Lykon returns mighty misfortune is threatening me."

The prince laughed, but he had not patience to listen to the complaints of the ex-priestess.

"Be at rest," said he, when going, "and wonder not if after some days men bring in thy Lykon bound like a jackal. That insolent ruffian has worn out my patience."

On returning to his palace the prince summoned Hiram and the chief of police in Pi-Bast. He told them that Lykon, the Greek with a face resembling his, was prowling around among the palaces, and he gave command to seize him. Hiram swore that if Phoenicians helped the police the Greek would be taken. But the chief shook his head.

"Dost doubt?" asked the prince.

"Yes, lord. In Pi-Bast dwell many pious Asiatics who think the priestess worthy of death because she deserted the altar. If this Greek has bound himself to kill Kama, they will help him, they will conceal the man, and facilitate flight for him."

"What is thy answer to this?" asked the heir of Hiram.

"The worthy master of the palace speaks wisely," replied the old Phoenician.

"But ye have freed Kama from the curse."

"I guarantee that Phoenicians will not touch Kama, and will pursue the Greek. But what is to be done with the other adherents of Astaroth?"

"I make bold to think," said the chief, "that nothing threatens this woman at present. If she had courage, we might employ her to decoy the Greek, and seize him here in thy palaces, O Erpatr."

"Then go to her," said the prince, "and lay before her whatever plan Thou mayst think out. And if Thou seize the man, I will give thee ten talents."

When the heir left them, Hiram said to the chief,

"Dignitary, I am aware that Thou knowest both kinds of writing, and that the wisdom of priests is not strange to thee. When Thou hast the wish, Thou art able to hear through walls and see things in darkness. For this reason Thou knowest the thoughts of the man who works with a bucket, the laborer, the artisan who takes sandals to market, the great lord who in the escort of his servants feels as safe as a child on the bosom of its mother."

"Thou speakest truth," replied the official. "The gods have given me a wonderful gift of clear insight."

"That is it; thanks to thy gifts, Thou hast guessed beyond doubt that the temple of Astaroth will appoint to thee twenty talents if Thou seize that wretch who dares assume the appearance of the prince, our viceroy. Besides, in every case, the temple offers thee ten talents if news of the likeness of the wretched Lykon to the heir is not reported throughout Egypt; for it is offensive and improper that an ordinary mortal should recall by his features a personage descended from divinity."

"Therefore let not that which Thou hearest of the wretched Lykon go beyond our own hearts, nor any word touching our chase after that godless outcast."

"I understand," replied the official. "It may even happen that such a criminal may lose his life before we can give him to the court."

"Thou hast said it," replied Hiram, pressing his hand; "and every help asked by thee of Phoenicians will be furnished."

They parted like two friends who were hunting a wild beast, and knew that the problem was not that their spear should strike, but that the beast should drop in its tracks and not go into other hands.

After some days Ramses visited Kama again, but found her in a state touching on insanity. She hid herself in the darkest room of the villa; she was hungry, her hair was not dressed, she was even unwashed. She gave the most contradictory commands to her servants; at one time she ordered all to come to her, at another she sent all away. In the night she summoned the guard of warriors, and fled to the highest chamber soon after, crying out that they wished to kill her.

In view of these actions all desire vanished from the prince's soul, and there remained simply a feeling of great trouble. He seized his head when the steward of the palace and the officer told him of these wonders, and he whispered:

"Indeed, I did badly in taking that woman from her goddess; for the goddess alone could endure her caprices with patience."

He went, however, to Kama, and found her emaciated, broken, and trembling.

"Woe to me!" cried she. "There are none around me but enemies. My tirewoman wishes to poison me; my hairdresser to give me some dreadful disease. The warriors are waiting an opportunity to bury swords and spears in my bosom; I am sure that instead of food, they prepare for me magic herbs in the kitchen. All are rising up to destroy me."

"Kama!" interrupted the prince.

"Call me not by that name!" whispered she; "it will bring me misfortune."

"But how do these ideas come to thee?"

"How? Dost Thou think that in the daytime I do not see strange people who appear at the palace and vanish before I can call in my servants? And in the night do I not hear people outside the wall whispering?"

"It seems so to thee."

"Cursed! Cursed!" cried Kama, weeping. "Ye all say that it seems to me. But the day before yesterday some criminal hand threw into my bedchamber a veil, which I wore half a day before I saw that it was not mine and that I had never worn a veil like it."

"Where is that veil?" inquired the prince, now alarmed.

"I burned it, but I showed it first to my servants."

"If not thine even, what harm could come of it?"

"Nothing yet. But had I kept that rag in the house two days longer, I should have been poisoned, or caught some incurable disorder. I know Asiatics and their methods."

Wearied and irritated, the prince left her at the earliest, in spite of entreaties to stay. When he asked the servants about that veil, the tirewoman declared that it was not one of Kama's; some person had thrown it into the chamber.

The prince commanded to double the watch at the villa and around it, and returned in desperation to his dwelling.

"Never should I have believed," said he, "that a single weak woman could bring so much trouble. Four freshly caught hyenas are not so restless as that Kama!"

At his palace the prince found Tutmosis, who had just returned from Memphis and had barely taken time to bathe and dress after the journey.

"What hast Thou to say?" inquired the prince of his favorite, divining that he had not brought pleasant tidings. "Hast Thou seen his holiness?"

"I saw the sun-god of Egypt, and this is what he said to me."

"Speak," hurried Ramses.

"Thus spoke our lord," answered Tutmosis, crossing his arms on his breast: "For four and thirty years have I directed the weighty car of Egypt, and I am so wearied that I yearn to join my mighty forefathers who dwell now in the western kingdom. Soon I shall leave this earth, and then my son, Ramses, will sit on the throne, and do with the state what wisdom points out to him."

"Did my holy father speak thus?"

"Those are his words repeated faithfully. A number of times the lord spoke explicitly, saying that he would leave no command to thee, so that Thou mightst govern Egypt as thy wishes indicate."

"Ob, holy one! Is his illness really serious? Why did he not summon me?" asked the prince, in sorrow.

"Thou must be here, for Thou mayst be of service in this part of Egypt."

"But the treaty with Assyria?"

"It is concluded in this sense, that Assyria may wage war on the east and north without hindrance from Egypt. But the question of Phoenicia remains in abeyance till Thou art the pharaoh."

"O blessed! O holy ruler! From what a dreadful heritage Thou hast saved me."

"So Phoenicia remains in abeyance," continued Tutmosis. "But still there is one bad thing. His holiness, to show Assyria that he will not hinder her in the war against northern peoples, has commanded to decrease our army by twenty thousand mercenaries."

"What dost Thou tell me!" cried the heir, astounded.

Tutmosis shook his head in sign of sorrow.

"I speak the truth, and four Libyan regiments are now disbanded."

"But this is madness!" almost howled the heir, wringing his hands. "Why have we so weakened ourselves, and whither will those disbanded men go?"

"They have gone to the Libyan desert already, and will either attack the Libyans, which will cause us trouble, or will join them and both will attack then our western border."

"I have heard nothing of this! What did they do, and when did they do it? No news reached us!" cried Ramses.

"The disbanded troops went to the desert from Memphis, and Herhor forbade to mention this news to any person."

"Do neither Mefres nor Mentezufis know of this matter?"

"They know."

"They know, and I do not."

The prince grew calm on a sudden, but he was pale, and on his young face was depicted terrible hatred. He seized both hands of his favorite, pressed them firmly, and whispered,

"Hear me! By the sacred heads of my father and mother, by the memory of Ramses the Great by all the gods, if there are any, I swear that during my rule if the priests will not bow down before me I will crush them."

Tutmosis listened in alarm.

"I or they!" finished the prince. "Egypt cannot have two lords."

"Formerly it had only one, the pharaoh," added Tutmosis.

"Then Thou wilt be loyal to me?"

"I, all the nobles, and the army, I swear to thee."

"Enough!" concluded Ramses. "Let them discharge the mercenary regiments, let them sign treaties, let them hide before me like bats, and let them deceive us all. But the time will come And now, Tutmosis, rest after the journey; be with me at the feast this evening. Those people have so bound me that I can only amuse myself. Then let me amuse myself. But in time I will show them who the ruler of Egypt is, they or I."

From that day feasts began again. The prince, as if ashamed to meet the army, was not present at drills. Still, his palace was swarming with nobles, officers, jugglers, and singers, while at night great orgies took place, at which the sound of harps mingled with the drunken shouts of guests and the spasmodic laughter of women.

Ramses invited Kama to one of these feasts, but she refused.

The prince was offended. Seeing this, Tutmosis said,

"They have told me, lord, that Sarah has lost thy favor."

"Do not mention that Jewess to me," replied Ramses. "But dost Thou know what she did with my son?"

"I know; but that, it seems to me, was not her fault. I heard in Memphis that thy worthy mother and the worthy minister Herhor made thy son a Jew, so that he might rule over Israelites sometime."

"But the Israelites have no king, only priests and judges," interrupted the prince.

"They have not, but they wish to have. They, too, are disgusted with priestly rule."

The heir waved his hand contemptuously.

"A charioteer of his holiness means more than any king, especially any king of the Israelites, who as yet have no kingdom."

"In every case, Sarah's fault is not so great," put in Tutmosis.

"Then know that I will pay the priests sometime."

"They are not to blame so greatly. For instance, the worthy Herhor did this to increase the glory and power of thy dynasty. And he did it with the knowledge of thy mother."

"But why does Mefres interfere? His single duty is to care for the temple, not influence the fate of the pharaoh's descendants."

"Mefres is an old man growing whimsical. The whole court of his holiness jeers at him because of practices, of which I know nothing, though I see the holy man almost daily."

"This is curious. What does he do?"

"A number of times during twenty-four hours he performs solemn services in the most secret parts of the temple, and he commands the priests to see if the gods do not hold him suspended while praying."

"Ha! ha!" laughed Ramses. "And all this is going on in Pi-Bast here under our eyes, and I do not know of it?"

"A priestly secret."

"A secret of which all in Memphis are talking! Ha! ha! ha! In the amphitheatre I saw a Chaldean suspended in the air."

"I saw him too; but that was a trick, while Mefres wishes to be borne above the earth really on the wings of his devotion."

"Unheard-of buffoonery! What do the other priests say to this?"

"Perhaps in our sacred papyruses there is mention that in old times there were prophets among us who had the gift of suspending themselves in the air; so the desires of Mefres do not astonish priests nowadays. And since, as is known to thee, subordinates among us see whatever pleases superiors, some holy men claim that during prayer Mefres really rises a couple of fingers high above the pavement."

"Ha! ha! ha! And with this great secret the whole court is occupied, and we, like laborers or earth-diggers, do not even suspect that miracles are wrought at one side of us. A wretched fate to be heir to the throne of Egypt!" laughed the viceroy.

When he grew calm, at the repeated request of Tutmosis, he commanded to transfer Sarah from the servants' house to Kama's first villa. The servants were delighted at this change; all the serving and slave women, and even the scribes conducted Sarah to her new dwelling with music and shouts of pleasure.

The Phoenician woman, when she heard the uproar, asked the reason; and when they told her that Sarah had been restored to the favor of the prince, and that from the servants' house she had been transferred to the villa, the enraged ex-priestess sent for Ramses.

The prince came.

"Dost Thou treat me in this way?" screamed she, losing control of her temper. "Thou didst promise that I should be thy first woman, but before the moon traversed half the heavens thy promise was broken. Perhaps Thou thinkest that the vengeance of Astaroth will fall on the priestess alone, and not reach to princes."

"Tell thy Astaroth," replied Ramses, calmly, "not to threaten princes, or she may go herself to the servants' house."

"I understand!" exclaimed Kama. "I shall go to the servants' house, perhaps even to prison, while Thou wilt spend nights with thy Jewess. Because I have left the gods for thee I have drawn down a curse on my own head. Because I left them I know no rest for a moment; I have lost my youth for thee, my life, my soul even, and this is the pay which Thou givest me."

The prince confessed in his heart that Kama had sacrificed much for him, and he felt compunction.

"I have not been and shall not be with Sarah," said he. "But does it harm thee that the ill-fated woman has some comfort and can nourish her child unmolested?"

Kama trembled. She raised her clinched fist, her hair stirred, and in her eyes an ugly fire of hate was flashing.

"Is this the answer which Thou givest me? The Jewess is unhappy because Thou didst drive her from the villa, and I must be satisfied, though the gods have driven me out of their temples. But my soul the soul of a priestess who is drowning in tears and in terror does not mean more for thee than that brat of the Jew woman this child, which, would he were dead may he."

"Silence!" cried the prince, shutting her mouth.

She drew back frightened.

"Then may I not even complain of my wretchedness?" inquired she. "But if Thou art so careful of that child, why steal me from the temple, why promise that I should be first in thy household? Have a care," continued she, raising her voice again, "that Egypt, after learning my fate, may not call thee a faith-breaker."

The prince turned his head and laughed. But he sat down, and said,

"My teacher was right, indeed, when he warned me against women: Ye are like ripe peaches in the eyes of a man whose tongue thirst has parched, but peaches ripe only in appearance. Woe to the fool who dares bite that fruit of fair seeming; instead of cooling sweetness he will find a nest of wasps that will sting not his lips alone, but his heart also."

"Wilt Thou complain? Wilt Thou not spare me even this shame after I have sacrificed to thee both my dignity of priestess and my virtue?"

The heir shook his head and smiled.

"Never could I have thought," said he, after a while, "that the story told by laborers before bedtime could have come true. But today I see the truth of it. Listen to me, Kama; perhaps Thou wilt stop, and not force me to withdraw the goodwill which I have for thee."

"He wishes now to tell a fable!" said the priestess, bitterly. "Thou hast told me one already, and I was profited by hearing it."

"This will profit thee if Thou understand it."

"Will there be anything about Jewish brats in it?"

"Of priestesses there will be; only listen carefully.

"The following thing happened here long ago, in Pi-Bast: [A true story.]

"Once Prince Satni, on the square before the temple of Ptah, saw a very beautiful woman. She surpassed all whom he had met before, and, what was more noteworthy, she had much gold on her person.

"She pleased the prince greatly, and when he learned that she was the daughter of the high priest, he sent his equerry to her with the following offer,

"'I will give thee gold rings if Thou wilt pass one short hour in my company.'

"The equerry went to the beautiful Tbubui and repeated the words of Prince Satni. When she had listened to him politely, she answered as became a well-bred young lady,

"'I am the daughter of a high priest; I am innocent, no low girl. So, if the prince wishes to have the pleasure of knowing me, let him come to my house, where everything will be ready, and where acquaintance with him will not expose me to the scandal of all the street gossips.'

"Prince Satni went to Tbubui's chambers, the walls of which were covered with lapis lazuli and pale green enamel. There were also many couches decked with regal linen, and not a few one-legged tables on which gold goblets were standing. One of these goblets was filled with wine and given to the prince, while Tbubui said to him, 'Be gracious, and drink.' To this the prince answered, 'Thou knowest that I have not come to drink wine here.' Still the two sat down at the feast, during which Tbubui wore a long, heavy robe fastened at her neck closely. When the prince, excited by wine, wished to kiss her, she repelled him, and answered,

"'This house will be thine. But remember that I am no street woman, but an innocent maiden. If Thou wish from me obedience, swear faith, and convey to me thy property.'

"'Let the scribe come!' cried the prince. When they brought in the scribe, Satni commanded him to write an act of betrothal, also a deed by which he transferred to Tbubui all his money, and all his property, personal and real.

"An hour later the servants announced to the prince that his children were waiting in the lower story. Tbubui left him then, but returned soon, attired in a transparent gauze robe. Satni wished again to embrace her, but she repelled him a second time, saying: 'This house will be thine. But, since I am no common woman, but an innocent maiden, if Thou wish to possess me, let thy children renounce every claim, lest they raise lawsuits hereafter with my children.'

"Satni called up his children, and commanded them to sign an act renouncing all claim to his possessions. They did so. But when, roused by long resistance, he approached Tbubui, she repelled him, saying,

"'This house will be thine. But I am no chance passing woman, I am a pure maiden. If Thou love me, give consent to kill those children lest they take property from my children.'"

"This is rather a long story," said Kama, impatiently.

"It will end right away. And dost Thou know, Kama, what Satni replied to this: 'If Thou wish, let the crime be accomplished.' Tbubui gave no chance to have these words said a second time. Before their father's eyes she commanded to kill the children, and throw their bloody limbs to dogs and cats outside the windows. Only after that did Satni enter her chamber and repose on her bed, inlaid with ivory."

"Tbubui did well not to trust to men's promises," said the irritated Kama.

"But Satni," said the heir, "did better. He woke, for his dreadful crime was a dream only. And remember this, Kama, the surest way to rouse a man from love's intoxication is to curse his son."

"Be at rest, lord," said Kama, gloomily, "I will never mention hereafter thy son or my sorrow."

"And I will not withdraw my favor from thee, and Thou wilt be happy," said Ramses, in conclusion.



CHAPTER XL

Among the inhabitants of Pi-Bast alarming news had begun to circulate concerning the Libyans. It was said that those barbarian warriors, disbanded by the priests, began by begging on the road homeward, then they stole, and finally they fell to robbing and burning Egyptian villages, murdering the inhabitants meanwhile.

In the course of a few days they attacked and destroyed the towns of Chinen-su, Pinat, and Kasa, south of Lake Moeris, and they cut down also a caravan of merchants and Egyptian pilgrims returning from the oasis Uit-Mehe. The entire western boundary of the state was in peril, and even from Teremethis inhabitants began to flee. And in the neighborhood beyond that, toward the sea, appeared bands of Libyans, sent, as it were, by the terrible chief, Musawasa, who, it seemed, was to declare a sacred war against Egypt.

Moreover, if any evening a western strip of sky was red for too long a time alarm fell on Pi-Bast. The people gathered along the streets; some of them went out on the flat roofs, or climbed trees, and declared that they saw a fire in Menuf or in Sechem. Some, even, in spite of darkness, saw fleeing people, or Libyan bands marching toward Pi-Bast in long black columns.

Notwithstanding the indignation of people, the rulers of provinces remained indifferent, for the central power issued no order.

Prince Ramses saw this alarm of the people and the indifference of dignitaries. Mad anger seized him, because he received no command from Memphis, and because neither Mefres nor Mentezufis spoke with him of dangers threatening Egypt.

But since neither priest visited him, and both, as it were, avoided conversation, the viceroy did not seek them, nor did he make any military preparations.

At last he ceased to visit the regiments stationed at Pi-Bast, but assembling at the palace all the young nobles, he amused himself and feasted, repressing in his heart indignation at the priests and anxiety for the fate of the country.

"Thou wilt see!" said he once to Tutmosis. "The holy prophets will manage us so that Musawasa will take Lower Egypt, and we shall have to flee to Thebes, if not to Sunnu, unless the Ethiopians drive us also from that place."

"Thou speakest truth," replied Tutmosis; "our rulers' acts resemble those of traitors."

The first day in the month of Hator (August-September) a great feast was given at the palace of the viceroy. They began to amuse themselves at two in the afternoon, and before sunset all present were drunk. It went so far that men and women rolled on the floor, which was wet with wine and covered with flowers and pieces of broken pitchers.

The prince was the soberest among them. He was not on the floor, he was sitting in an armchair, holding on his knees two beautiful dancers, one of whom was giving him wine, while the other was pouring strong perfumes on his head.

At this moment an adjutant entered the hall, and, stepping over a number of guests lying prostrate, hurried up to Ramses.

"Worthy lord," said he, "the holy Mefres and the holy Mentezufis wish to speak at once with thee."

The viceroy pushed the girls away, and with red face, stained garments, and tottering steps went to his chamber in the upper story. At sight of him Mefres and Mentezufis looked at each other.

"What do ye wish, worthy fathers?" asked the prince, dropping into an armchair.

"I do not know whether Thou wilt be able to hear us," answered the anxious Mentezufis.

"Ah! do ye think that I am tipsy?" cried the prince. "Have no fear. Today all Egypt is either so mad or so stupid that most sense is found among drinkers."

The priests frowned, but Mentezufis began,

"Thou knowest, worthiness, that our lord and the supreme council determined to disband twenty thousand mercenary warriors?"

"Well, if I do not know?" said the heir. "Ye have not deigned to ask my advice in a question so difficult to determine, ye have not even thought it worth while to inform me that four regiments are disbanded, and that those men, because of hunger, are attacking our cities."

"It seems to me, worthiness, that Thou art criticizing the commands of his holiness the pharaoh," interrupted Mentezufis.

"Not of his holiness!" cried the prince, stamping, "but of those traitors who, taking advantage of the sickness of my father, wish to sell Egypt to Assyrians and Libyans."

The priests were astounded. No Egyptian had ever used words of that kind.

"Permit, prince, that we return in a couple of hours, when Thou shalt have calmed thyself," said Mefres.

"There is no need of that. I know what is happening on our western boundary. Or rather it is not I who know, but my cooks, stable-boys, and laundrymen. Perhaps then ye will have the goodness, worthy fathers, to communicate your plans to me."

Mentezufis assumed a look of indifference, and said,

"The Libyans have rebelled and are collecting bands with the intention of attacking Egypt."

"I understand."

"At the desire, therefore, of his holiness," continued Mentezufis, "and of the supreme council, Thou art to take troops from Lower Egypt and annihilate the rebels."

"Where is the order?"

Mentezufis drew forth from his bosom a parchment provided with seals, and gave it to the viceroy.

"From this moment then I command, and am the supreme power in this province," said the viceroy.

"It is as Thou hast said."

"And I have the right to hold a military council with you?"

"Of course," replied Mefres. "Even this moment

"Sit down," interrupted the prince.

Both priests obeyed his command.

"I ask because in view of my plans I must know why the Libyan regiments were disbanded."

"Others too will be disbanded," caught up Mentezufis. "The supreme council desires to disband twenty thousand of the most expensive warriors, so that the treasury of his holiness may save four thousand talents yearly, without which want may soon threaten the court of the pharaoh."

"A thing which does not threaten the most wretched of Egyptian priests," added Ramses.

"Thou forgettest, worthiness, that it is not proper to call a priest wretched," replied Mentezufis. "And if want threatens none of them, the merit is found in their moderate style of living."

"In that case the statues drink the wine which is carried every day to the temples, while stone gods dress their wives in gold and jewels," jeered Ramses. "But no more about your abstemiousness. Not to fill the treasury of the pharaoh has the council of priests disbanded twenty thousand troops and opened the gates of Egypt to bandits."

"But why?"

"This is why: to please King Assar. And since his holiness would not agree to give Phoenicia to Assyria, ye wish to weaken the state in another way, by disbanding hired troops and rousing war on our western boundary."

"I take the gods to witness that Thou dost astonish us, worthiness," cried Mentezufis.

"The shades of the pharaohs would be more astonished if they heard that in this same Egypt in which the power of the pharaoh is hampered, some Chaldean trickster is influencing the fate of the nation."

"I do not believe my own ears," replied Mentezufis. "What dost Thou say of some Chaldean?"

The viceroy laughed sneeringly.

"I speak of Beroes. If thou, holy man, hast not heard of him, ask the revered Mefres, and if he has forgotten turn then to Herhor and Pentuer."

"That is a great secret of our temples

"A foreign adventurer came like a thief to Egypt, and put on the members of the supreme council a treaty so shameful that we should be justified in signing it only after we had lost battles, lost all our regiments and both capitals. And to think that this was done by one man, most assuredly a spy of King Assar! And our sages let themselves be so charmed by his eloquence, that, when the pharaoh would not let them give up Phoenicia, they disbanded regiments in every case, and caused war on our western boundary. Have we ever heard of a deed like this?" continued Ramses, no longer master of himself. "When it was just the time to raise the army to three hundred thousand and hurry on to Nineveh, those pious maniacs discharged twenty thousand men and fired their own dwelling-house."

Mefres, still and pale, listened to these jeers. At last he said,

"I know not, worthy lord, from what source Thou hast taken thy information. May it be as pure as the hearts of the highest counselors! But let us suppose that Thou art right, that some Chaldean priest had power to bring the council to sign a burdensome treaty with Assyria. If it happened thus, whence knowest Thou that that priest was not an envoy of the gods, who through his lips forewarned us of dangers hanging over Egypt?"

"How do the Chaldeans enjoy your confidence to such a degree?" asked the viceroy.

"The Chaldean priests are elder brothers of the Egyptians," interrupted Mentezufis.

"Then perhaps the Assyrian king is the master of the pharaoh?"

"Blaspheme not, worthiness," said Mefres, severely. "Thou art pushing into the most sacred things frivolously, and to do that has proved perilous to men who were greater than Thou art."

"Well, I will not do so. But how is a man to know that one Chaldean is an envoy of the gods, and another a spy of King Assar?"

"By miracles," answered Mefres. "If, at thy command, prince, this room should fill with spirits, if unseen powers were to bear thee in the air, we should know that Thou wert an agent of the immortals, and should respect thy counsel."

Ramses shrugged his shoulders. "I, too, have seen spirits: a young girl made them. And I saw a juggler lying in the air in the amphitheatre."

"But Thou didst not see the fine strings which his four assistants had in their teeth," put in Mentezufis.

The prince laughed again, and, remembering what Tutmosis had told him about the devotions of Mefres, he said in a jeering tone,

"In the days of Cheops a certain high priest wished absolutely to fly through the air. With this object he prayed to the gods, and commanded his inferiors to see whether unseen powers were not raising him. And what will ye say, holy fathers? From that time forth there was no day when prophets did not assure the high priest that he was borne in the air, not very high, it is true, about a finger from the pavement."

"But what is that to thy power, worthiness?" inquired he of Mefres, suddenly.

"The high priest, when he heard his own story, shook in the chair, and would have fallen had not Mentezufis supported him."

Ramses bustled about, gave the old man water to drink, rubbed vinegar on his temples and forehead, and fanned him.

Soon the holy Mefres recovered, rose from the chair, and said to Mentezufis,

"May we not go now?"

"I think so."

"But what am I to do?" asked the prince, feeling that something evil had happened.

"Accomplish the duties of leader," said Mentezufis, coldly.

Both priests bowed to the prince ceremoniously, and departed. Ramses was not entirely sober, but a great weight fell on his heart. At that moment he understood that he had committed two grievous errors: He had confessed to the priests that he knew their great secret, and he had jeered, without mercy, at Mefres. He would have given a year of his life could he have blotted from their memories all that drunken conversation. But it was too late then to do so.

"It cannot be hidden," thought he. "I have betrayed myself and procured mortal enemies. The position is difficult. The struggle begins at a moment which is for me most unfavorable. But let us go on. More than one pharaoh has struggled with the priests and conquered, even without having very strong allies."

Still he felt the danger of his position so clearly that at that moment he swore by the sacred head of his father that he would never drink wine again freely. He summoned Tutmosis. The confidant appeared at once, perfectly sober.

"We have a war, and I am commander," said the viceroy.

Tutmosis bent to the earth.

"I will never get drunk again," added the prince. "And knowest Thou why?"

"A leader should abstain from wine and stupefying perfumes," said Tutmosis.

"I have not thought of that, that is nothing; but I have babbled out a secret before the priests."

"What secret?" cried the terrified Tutmosis.

"This, that I hate them, and jeer at their miracles."

"Oh, that is no harm. They never calculate on the love of people."

"And that I know their political secrets," added the prince.

"Ei!" hissed Tutmosis. "That is the one thing that was not needed."

"No help for it now," said Ramses. "Send out our couriers immediately to the regiments; let the chiefs meet to-morrow morning in a military council. Give command to light alarm signals, so that all the troops of Lower Egypt may march toward the western border to-morrow. Go to the nomarchs here, and command them to inform all the others to collect clothing, provisions, and weapons."

"We shall have trouble with the Nile," said Tutmosis.

"Then let every boat and barge be held at the arms of the Nile to ferry over troops. We must summon every nomarch to occupy himself in fitting out reserves."

Meanwhile Mefres and Mentezufis returned to their dwellings in the temple of Ptah. When they were alone in a cell, the high priest raised his hands, and exclaimed,

"O Trinity of immortal gods, Osiris, Isis, and Horus, save Egypt from destruction! Since the world became the world, no pharaoh has ever uttered so many blasphemies as we have heard today from that stripling. What do I say, pharaoh? No enemy of Egypt, no Hittite, Phoenician, or Libyan has ever dared so to insult priestly immunity."

"Wine makes a man transparent," answered Mentezufis.

"But in that youthful heart is a nest of serpents. He insults the priestly rank, he jeers at miracles, he has no belief in gods."

"But this concerns me most," said Mentezufis, thoughtfully, "how did he learn of our negotiations with. Beroes? for he knows them, I will swear to that."

"A dreadful treason has been committed," added Mefres, seizing his head.

"A very wonderful thing! There were four of us."

"Not at all four of us. The elder priestess of Isis knew of Beroes, two priests who showed him the road to the temple of Set, and a priest who received him at the door. But wait! that priest spends all his time in underground places. But if he overheard?"

"In every case he did not sell the secret to a stripling, but to some one more important; and that is dangerous."

The high priest of the temple of Ptah, the holy Sem, knocked at the door of the cell.

"Peace to you," said he, entering.

"Blessing to thy heart."

"I came, for ye were raising your voices as if some misfortune had happened. Does this war with the wretched Libyans not surprise you?"

"What dost Thou think of the prince, the heir to the throne?" asked Mentezufis, interrupting him.

"I think," answered Sem, "that he must be quite satisfied with the war and supreme command. He is a born hero. When I look at him I remember that lion, Ramses the Great. This youth is ready to rush at all the bands of Libya, and, indeed, he may scatter them."

"This youth," added Mefres, "is capable of overturning all our temples, and wiping Egypt from the face of the earth."

Holy Sem drew forth quickly a gold amulet which he wore on his breast, and whispered,

"Flee, evil words, to the desert. Go far, and harm not the just. What art Thou saying, worthiness?" continued he, more loudly, and in a tone of reproach.

"The worthy Mefres speaks truth," said Mentezufis. "Thy head would ache, and thy stomach also, should human lips repeat the blasphemous words which we have heard this day from that giddy stripling."

"Jest not, O prophet," said the high priest Sem, with indignation. "Sooner would I believe that water burns and air quenches than that Ramses would commit blasphemy."

"He did so in seeming drunkenness," said Mefres, maliciously.

"Even if he were drunk I do not deny that the prince is frivolous, and a rioter; but a blasphemer."

"So, too, did we think," said Mentezufis. "And we were so sure of knowing his character that when he returned from the temple of Hator we ceased even to exercise control over him."

"Thou wert sparing of gold to pay men for watching," said Mefres. "Thou seest now what results are involved in a neglect which seemed slight to thee."

"But what has happened?" inquired Sem, impatiently.

"I will answer briefly: the prince reviles the gods."

"Oho!"

"He criticizes the commands of the pharaoh."

"Is it possible?"

"He calls the supreme council traitors."

"But."

"But from whom did he learn of the coming of Beroes, even of his interview with Mefres, Herhor, and Pentuer, in the temple of Set?"

The high priest Sem, seizing his head with both hands, walked up and down through the cell.

"Impossible!" said he. "Impossible! Has any one cast a spell over that young man? Perhaps the Phoenician priestess, whom he stole from the temple."

This consideration seemed to Mentezufis so apposite that he looked at Mefres. But the angry high priest would not be turned aside for an instant.

"Let us see," said he. "But first we must investigate and learn what the prince was doing day by day, after his return from the temple of Hator. He had too much freedom, too many relations with unbelievers and with enemies of Egypt. But Thou wilt help us, worthy Sem."

Because of this decision, the high priest Sem ordered to summon for the following day a solemn service at the temple of Ptah.

So they stationed on squares and at street comers, even in the fields, heralds of the priests, and called all the people with flutes and trumpets.

And when a sufficient number of hearers had assembled, they informed them that in the temple of Ptah there would be prayers and processions during three days, to the intent that the good god would bless Egyptian arms and crush Libyans; that he would send down on their leader, Musawasa, leprosy, insanity, and blindness.

As the priests wished, so was it done. From morning till late at night common people of every occupation crowded around the temple; the aristocracy and the wealthy citizens assembled in the forecourt; while the priests of the city and of the neighboring provinces made sacrifices to Ptah and repeated prayers in the most holy chapel.

Thrice daily did a solemn procession issue forth, carrying in a golden boat, concealed by curtains, the revered statue of the divinity; whereat the people prostrated themselves and confessed their faults loudly, while prophets disposed in the crowd numerously helped them to penitence by appropriate questions. A similar thing was done in the forecourt of the temple. But since officials and rich people did not like to accuse themselves openly, the holy fathers took them aside, and gave advice and exhortation in whispers.

In the afternoon the service was most solemn, for at that time the troops marching westward came to receive the blessing of the high priest, and strengthen the power of amulets which had the quality of weakening blows from the enemy.

Sometimes thunder was heard in the temple, and at night, above the pylons, there was lightning. This was a sign that the god had heard some one's prayers, or was conversing with the priesthood.

When, after the ending of the solemnity, the three dignitaries Sem, Mefres, and Mentezufis met for consultation, the position had become clearer.

The solemnity had brought the temple about forty talents but sixty talents had been given out in presents or in paying the debts of various persons of the aristocracy as well as of the highest military circles.

They had collected the following information:

A report was current in the army, that when Prince Ramses mounted the throne, he would begin a war with Assyria, which would assure great profit to those taking part in it. The lowest soldier, they said, would not return without a thousand drachmas, or perhaps a still larger sum.

It was whispered among people that when the pharaoh returned with victory from Nineveh, he would give slaves to the earth-tillers, and remit for a number of years all taxes.

The aristocracy, on its part, judged that the new pharaoh would, first of all, take from priests and return to nobles all lands which had become temple property, and would pay also the debts of nobles. It was said, too, that the coming pharaoh would govern independently, without a supreme priestly council.

Finally, in all social circles there reigned a conviction that Ramses, to secure the aid of Phoenicia, had had recourse to the goddess Istar, [Another form of Astarte.] to whom he showed marked devotion. In every case it was certain that the heir had once visited the temple of Istar, and had seen, in the night, certain miracles. Finally, rumors were current among Asiatics that Ramses had made immense presents to the temple, and in return had taken thence a priestess to confirm him in the faith of the goddess.

All these tidings were collected by the most worthy Sem and his assistants. The holy fathers, Mefres and Mentezufis, communicated to him other information which had come to them from Memphis:

The Chaldean priest and miracle-worker, Beroes, was received in the subterranean parts of the temple of Set by the priest Osochar, who, when giving his daughter in marriage two months later, had presented her with rich jewels and bought a good estate for her and her husband. And since Osochar had no considerable income, a suspicion rose that that priest had overheard the conversation of Beroes with the Egyptian priests, and had sold to Phoenicians, criminally, the secret of the treaty, and received a great estate from them.

When he heard this, the high priest Sem added,

"If the holy Beroes does, indeed, perform miracles, then ask him, first of all, if Osochar has betrayed the secret."

"They inquired of Beroes," said Mefres, "but the holy man answered that in that affair he preferred to be silent. He added, also, that even if some one had heard their conversation, and reported to Phoenicians, neither Egypt nor Chaldea would suffer any injury; and if they should find the guilty person, it would be proper to show him mercy."

"A holy man! Indeed, a holy man!" whispered Sem.

"And what wilt Thou say, worthiness," asked Mefres, "of the prince and the disturbances which his conduct has caused in the country?"

"I will say the same as Beroes: 'The heir does not cause harm to Egypt, so we should show him indulgence. '."

"This young man reviles the gods and miracles; he enters foreign temples, he excites the men to rebellion. These are no small matters," said Mefres, bitterly. This priest could not pardon Ramses for having jeered at his devotion so rudely.

The high priest Sem loved Ramses; so he answered with a kindly smile,

"What laborer is there in Egypt who would not like to have a slave, and abandon hard labor for sweet idleness? Or what man is there on earth who is without the dream of not paying taxes, since with that which he pays the treasury, his wife, he himself, and his children might buy showy clothes and use various dainties?"

"Idleness and excessive outlay spoil a man," said Mentezufis.

"What warrior," continued Sem, "would not desire war and covet a thousand drachmas, or even a greater sum? Further, I ask you, O fathers, what pharaoh, what nomarch, what noble pays old debts with alacrity, and does not look askance at the wealth of temples?"

"That is vile greed," whispered Mefres.

"And, finally," said Sem, "what heir to the throne has not dreamed of decreasing the importance of the priesthood? What pharaoh at the beginning of his reign has not tried to shake off the supreme council's influence?"

"Thy words are full of wisdom," said Mefres, "but to what may they lead us?"

"To this, not to accuse the heir before the supreme council, for there is no court that would condemn the prince for this, that earth-workers would be glad not to pay taxes, or that soldiers want war if they can have it. Nay, ye may receive a reprimand. For if ye had followed the prince day by day and restrained his minor excesses, we should not have at present that pyramid of complaints founded, moreover, on nothing. In such affairs the evil is not in this, that people are inclined to sin, for they have been so at all times. But the danger is here, that we have not guarded them. Our sacred river, the mother of Egypt, would very soon fill all canals with mud, if engineers ceased to watch it."

"And what wilt Thou say, worthiness, of the fictions which the prince permitted himself in speaking with us? Wilt Thou forgive his foul reviling of miracles?" inquired Mefres. "Moreover this stripling has insulted me grievously in my religious practices."

"Whoso speaks with a drunken man is himself an offender," said Sem. "To tell the truth, ye had no right, worthy fathers, to speak with a man who was not sober about important state questions. Ye committed a fault in making a drunken man commander of an army. A leader must be sober."

"I bow down before thy wisdom," said Mefres; "still I vote to lay a complaint against the heir before the supreme council."

"But I vote against a complaint," answered Sem, energetically. "The council must learn of all acts of the viceroy, not through a complaint, but through an ordinary report to it."

"I too am opposed to a complaint," said Mentezufis.

The high priest, Mefres, seeing that he had two votes against him, yielded in the matter of a complaint. But he remembered the insult from the prince and hid ill-will in his bosom.



CHAPTER XLI

BY advice of astrologers the headquarters were to move from Pi-Bast on the seventh day of Hator. For that day was "good, good, good." Gods in heaven and men on earth rejoiced at the victory of Ra over his enemies; whoever came into the world on that day was destined to die at an advanced age surrounded by reverence.

That was a favorable day for pregnant women, and people trading in woven stuffs, but for toads and mice it was evil.

From the moment that he was appointed commander Ramses rushed to work feverishly. He received each regiment as it arrived; he inspected its weapons, its train, and its clothing. He greeted the recruits, and encouraged them to diligent exercise at drilling, to the destruction of their enemies and the glory of the pharaoh. He presided at every military council, he was present at the examination of every spy, and in proportion as tidings were brought in, he indicated on the map with his own hand the movement of Egyptian armies and the positions of the enemy.

He passed so swiftly from place to place that they looked for him everywhere, and still he swooped on them suddenly like a falcon. In the morning he was on the south of Pi-Bast and verified the list of provisions; an hour later he was north of the city, and discovered that a hundred and fifty men were lacking in the left regiment. In the evening he overtook the advance guard, was at the crossing of an arm of the Nile, and passed in review two hundred war chariots.

The holy Mentezufis, who, as a representative of Herhor, understood the military art well, was overcome by astonishment.

"Ye know," said he to Sem and Mefres, "that I do not like the heir to the throne, for I have discovered his perversity and malice. But Osiris be my witness that that young man is a born leader. I will tell you a thing unparalleled: We shall concentrate our forces on the border three or four days earlier than it was possible to expect. The Libyans have lost the war already, though they have not heard the whistle of our arrows."

"So much the worse is such a pharaoh for us," interposed Mefres, with the stubbornness peculiar to old men.

Toward evening the sixth of Hator, Prince Ramses bathed and informed his staff that they would march on the morrow two hours before sunrise. "And now I wish to sleep," said he.

To wish for sleep was easier than to get it. The whole city was swarming with warriors; at the palace of the prince a regiment had encamped which had no thought of rest, but was eating, drinking, and singing.

The prince went to the remotest chamber, but even there he could not undress. Every few minutes some adjutant flew in with a report of no moment, or for an order in questions which could have been settled on the spot by the commander of a regiment. Spies were led in who brought no new information; great lords with small followings were announced; these wished to offer their services to the prince as volunteers. Phoenician merchants broke in on him; these wanted contracts for the army, or were contractors who complained of the extortion of generals.

Even soothsayers and astrologers were not lacking, who in the last hours before marching wished to draw his horoscope for the viceroy; there were even practicers of the black art who wished to sell unfailing amulets against missiles.

These people simply broke into the prince's chamber: each one of them judged that the fate of the expedition was in his hands, and that in such a case every etiquette should vanish.

The heir satisfied all applicants patiently. But when behind an astrologer one of his own women pushed into the room with complaint that Ramses did not love her, since he had not taken farewell, and when a quarter of an hour later the weeping of another was heard outside the window, the heir could endure no longer; he summoned Tutmosis.

"Sit in this room," said he, "and if Thou wish, console the women of my household. I will hide somewhere in the garden; if not, I shall not sleep and to-morrow I shall look like a hen just pulled out of a cistern."

"Where am I to seek thee in case of need?" asked Tutmosis.

"Oho! ho!" laughed the heir. "Seek me nowhere. I shall appear of myself when the trumpet is sounded."

And throwing over his shoulders a long mantle with a hood, he slipped out to the garden. Through the garden were prowling soldiers, kitchen boys, and other servants. In the whole space about the palace order had disappeared, as usual before an expedition. Noting this, Ramses turned to the densest part of the park, found a little arbor formed of grape- vines, and threw himself on a bench satisfied.

"Here neither priests nor women will find me," muttered the viceroy.

He fell asleep immediately, and slept like a stone.

Kama had felt ill for some days. To her irritation was joined some peculiar weakness and pain in the joints. Then there was an itching of her face, but especially of her forehead above the eyebrows.

These minute symptoms seemed to her so alarming that she ceased to dread assassination, but straightway she sat down before a mirror, and told her servants to withdraw and leave her. At such times she thought neither of Ramses nor the hated Sarah; all her attention was fixed on those spots which an untrained eye would not have even noticed.

"A spot yes, these are spots," whispered she, full of terror. "Two, three O Astaroth, but Thou wilt not punish thy priestess in this way! Death would be better But again what folly! If I rub my forehead, the spots will be redder. Evidently something has bitten me, or I have used impure oil in anointing. I will wash, and the spots will be gone by to- morrow."

The morrow came, but the spots had not vanished.

Kama called a servant.

"Listen!" said she. "Look at me!"

But as she spoke she sat down in a less lighted part of the chamber.

"Listen and look!" said she, in a stifled voice. "Dost Thou see spots on my face? But come no nearer."

"I see nothing," answered the serving woman.

"Neither under my left eye nor on my brows?" asked she, with growing irritation.

"Let the lady be pleased graciously to sit with the side of her face to the light," said the woman.

Of course that request enraged Kama.

"Away, wretch," cried she; "show thyself no more to me!"

When the serving-woman fled, her mistress rushed feverishly to the dressing-table, opened two little toilet jars, and with a brush painted her face rose-color.

Toward evening, feeling continual pain in her joints and fear in her heart, which was worse than pain, she commanded to call a physician. When they told her that the physician had come, she looked at the mirror, and was seized by a new attack, as it were of insanity. She threw the mirror to the pavement, and cried out with weeping that she did not need the physician.

During the sixth of Hator she ate nothing all day and would see no person.

When the slave woman brought in a light after sun-down,

Kama lay on the bed, after she had wound herself in a shawl. She ordered the slave to go out as quickly as possible; then she sat in an armchair at a distance from the lamp, and passed some hours in a half- waking stupor.

"There are no spots," said she, "and if there are, they are not spots of that kind! They are not leprosy. O ye gods!" cried she, throwing herself on the pavement. "It cannot be that I O ye gods, save me! I will go back to the temple; I will do life-long penance I have no spots. I have been rubbing my skin for some days; that is why it is red. Again, how could I have it; has any one ever heard that a priestess and a woman of the heir to the throne could have leprosy? O ye gods! that never has happened since the world began. Only fishermen, prisoners, and vile Jews Oh, that low Jewess! Heavenly powers, oh, send down leprosy to her!"

At that moment some shadow passed by the window on the first story. Then a rustle was heard, and from the door to the middle of the room sprang in Lykon.

Kama was amazed. She seized her head suddenly, and in her eyes immense terror was depicted.

"Lykon!" whispered she. "Thou here, Lykon? Be off! They are searching for thee."

"I know," answered the Greek, with a jeering laugh. "All the Phoenicians are hunting me, and all the police of his holiness. Still I am with thee, and I have been in thy lord's chamber."

"Wert Thou with the prince?"

"Yes; in his own bedchamber. And I should have left a dagger in his breast if the evil spirits had not saved him. Evidently he went to some other woman, not to thee."

"What dost Thou wish here?" whispered Kama. "Flee!"

"But with thee. On the street a chariot is ready for us; on this we shall ride to the Nile, and there my boat is in waiting."

"Thou hast gone mad! But the city and the streets are filled with warriors."

"For that very reason I was able to enter this palace, and we can escape very easily. Collect all thy treasures. I shall be back here immediately and take thee."

"Whither art Thou going?"

"I am seeking thy lord. I shall not go without leaving him a memento."

"Thou art mad!"

"Be silent!" interrupted Lykon, pale from anger. "Thou wishest yet to defend him."

The Phoenician woman tottered; she clinched her fists, and an evil light flashed in her eyes.

"But if Thou canst not find him?"

"Then I will kill one of his sleeping warriors. I will set fire to the palace. Do I know what I shall do? But I will not go without leaving a memento."

The great eyes of the Phoenician woman had such a ghastly look that the Greek was astonished.

"What is the matter with thee?" asked Lykon.

"Nothing; listen. Thou hast never been so like the prince as today. Hence, if Thou wish to do a good thing."

She put her face to his ear and whispered.

The Greek listened in amazement.

"Woman," said he, "Hades speaks through thee."

"Yes; suspicion will be turned on him."

"That is better than a dagger," said Lykon, laughing. "Never could I have come on that idea. Perhaps both would be better?"

"No! Let her live. This will be my vengeance."

"What a wicked soul!" whispered Lykon. "But Thou pleasest me. We will pay them both in kingly fashion."

He withdrew to the window and vanished. Kama leaned out after him, and forgetting every other thing, listened in a fever.

Perhaps a quarter of an hour after the departure of Lykon, at the side of the fig grove rose the piercing shriek of a woman. It was repeated a couple of times, and then ceased.

Instead of the expected delight, terror seized Kama. She fell on her knees, and gazed into the dark garden with a wandering stare.

Below was heard almost noiseless running; there was a squeak at the pillar in the antechamber, and in the window appeared Lykon again in a dark mantle. He was panting with violence, and his hands trembled.

"Where are thy jewels?" whispered he.

"Let me alone," replied she.

The Greek seized her by the shoulder.

"Wretch! Dost Thou not understand that before sunrise they will imprison thee, and will strangle thee a couple of days later?"

"I am sick."

"Where are thy jewels?"

"Under the bed."

Lykon went to her bedchamber; with the light of a lamp he drew out a heavy casket, threw a mantle over Kama, and pulled her by the arm.

"Make ready! Where are the doors through which he comes to thee that lord of thine?"

"Leave me!"

The Greek bent to her, and whispered,

"Aha! Dost think that I will leave thee here? I care as much for thee now as I do for a dog that has lost sense of smell. But Thou must go with me. Let that lord of thine know that there is a man better than he. He stole a priestess from Astaroth, I take his mistress from the heir of Egypt."

"I tell thee that I am sick."

The Greek drew out a slender blade, and put the point of it to her throat.

Kama trembled, and whispered,

"I go."

They passed through the secret door to the garden. From the direction of the palace came the noise of warriors kindling fires. Here and there among the trees were lights; from time to time some one in the service of the heir passed the pair. At the gate the guard stopped them,

"Who are ye?"

"Thebes," answered Lykon.

Then they went out to the street unhindered, and vanished in the alleys of the foreign quarter.

Two hours before daybreak drums and trumpets sounded through the city.

Tutmosis was lying sunk in deep sleep, when Prince Ramses pulled his mantle, and called,

"Rise, watchful leader. The regiments are marching!"

Tutmosis sat up in bed and rubbed his drowsy eyes.

"Ah, is it thou, lord?" asked he, yawning. "Hast Thou slept?"

"As never before," replied Ramses.

"But I should like to sleep more."

Both bathed, put on their jackets and light mail, then mounted horses, which were tearing away from the equerries.

Soon the heir, with a small suite, left the city, and on the way passed slowly moving columns. The Nile had overflowed widely, and the prince wished to be present at the passage of fords and canals.

At sunrise the last army chariot was far outside the city, and the worthy nomarch of Pi-Bast said to his servants,

"I am going to sleep now, and woe to the man who rouses me before the hour of our feast in the evening! Even the divine sun rests when each day is past, while I have not lain down since the first day of Hator."

Before he had finished praising his own watchfulness, a police officer entered, and begged for a special hearing in a case of immense importance.

"Would that the earth had swallowed thee!" muttered the worthy nomarch.

But still he commanded to summon the officer, and inquired with ill- humor,

"Is it not possible to wait a few hours? The Nile will not run away, as it seems to me."

"A terrible misfortune has happened," replied the officer. "The son of the erpatr is killed."

"What? Who?" cried the nomarch.

"The son of the Jewess Sarah."

"Who killed him? When?"

"Last night."

"But who could do this?"

The officer bent his head and spread his arms.

"I asked who killed him?" repeated the nomarch, more astonished than angry.

"Be pleased, lord, thyself to investigate. My lips will not utter what my ears have heard."

The astonishment of the nomarch increased. He gave command to lead in Sarah's servants, and sent for Mefres, the high priest. Mentezufis, as representative of the minister of war, had gone with the viceroy.

The astonished Mefres came. The nomarch told of the murder of the child, and said that the police official dared not give explanations.

"But are there witnesses?" inquired the high priest.

"We are waiting for thy commands, holy father."

They brought in Sarah's doorkeeper.

"Hast Thou heard," inquired the nomarch, "that the child of thy mistress is killed?"

The man fell to the pavement, and answered,

"I have even seen the worthy remains broken against the wall, and I detained our lady when she ran out to the garden, screaming."

"When did this happen?"

"At midnight. Immediately after the most worthy heir came to our lady," answered the watch.

"How is this? Did the prince visit thy lady last night?" inquired Mefres.

"Thou hast said it, great prophet."

"This is wonderful!" whispered Mefres to the nomarch.

The second witness was Sarah's cook, the third her waiting woman. Both declared that after midnight the prince had entered Sarah's chamber, stayed there awhile, then run out quickly to the garden, and soon after him appeared Lady Sarah, screaming terribly.

"But the prince remained all night in his chamber; he did not leave the palace," said the nomarch.

The police-officer shook his head, and declared that some of the palace servants were waiting in the antechamber.

They were summoned. Mefres questioned them, and it appeared that the heir had not slept in the palace. He had left his chamber before midnight, and gone to the garden; he returned when the first trumpet sounded.

When the witnesses had been led out, and the two dignitaries were alone, the nomarch threw himself on the pavement, and declared to Mefres that he was grievously ill, and would rather lose his life than carry on investigations. The high priest was very pale and excited; but he replied that they must clear up a question of murder, and he commanded the nomarch in the name of the pharaoh-to go with him to Sarah's dwelling. It was not far to the garden of the heir, and the two dignitaries soon found themselves at the place where the crime had been committed.

When they entered the chamber on the first story, they saw Sarah kneeling at the cradle in such a posture as if nursing the child. On the wall and the pavement were blood spots.

The nomarch grew so weak that he was forced to sit down, but Mefres was calm. He approached Sarah, touched her arm, and said,

"We come hither, lady, in the name of his holiness."

Sarah sprang to her feet suddenly, and, looking at Mefres, cried in a terrible voice,

"A curse on you! Ye wished to have a Jew king, and here is the king for you. Oh, why did I, unfortunate, listen to your traitorous advice!"

She dropped, and fell again at the side of the cradle, groaning,

"My son my little Seti! How beautiful he was, so cunning; just stretching out his little hands to me! O Jehovah! give him back to me, for that is in Thy power. O gods of Egypt, Osiris, Horus, Isis, O Isis, for Thou too wert a mother! It cannot be that in the heavens there is not one who will listen to my prayer. Such a dear, little child! A hyena would have spared him."

The high priest took her by the arms, and put her on her feet. The police and the servants filled the room.

"Sarah," said the high priest, "in the name of his holiness, the lord of Egypt, I summon thee, and command thee to answer, Who killed thy son?"

She gazed straight ahead, like a maniac, and rubbed her forehead.

The nomarch gave her water and wine, and one of the women present sprinkled her with vinegar.

"In the name of his holiness," repeated Mefres, "I command thee, Sarah, to tell the name of the murderer."

Those present withdrew toward the door; the nomarch with despairing action closed both his ears.

"Who killed?" said Sarah, in a panting voice, sinking her gaze in the face of Mefres. "Who killed, dost Thou ask? I know you, ye priests! I know your justice."

"Then who killed?" insisted Mefres.

"I!" cried Sarah, in an unearthly voice. "I killed my child, because ye made him a Jew."

"That is false!" hissed the high priest.

"I, I!" repeated Sarah. "Hei, Ye people who see me and hear me," she turned to the witnesses, "ye know that I killed him I I I!" cried she, beating her breast.

At such an explicit accusation of herself the nomarch recovered, and looked with compassion on Sarah; the women sobbed, the doorkeeper wiped away tears. But the holy Mefres closed his blue lips firmly. At last he said, with emphatic voice, while looking at the police official,

"Servants of his holiness, I surrender this woman, whom ye are to conduct to the edifice of justice."

"But my son with me!" interrupted Sarah, rushing to the cradle.

"With thee, with thee, poor woman," said the nomarch; and he covered his face.

The dignitaries went out of the chamber. The police officer had a litter brought, and with marks of the highest respect conducted Sarah down to it. The unfortunate woman seized a blood-stained bundle from the cradle, and took a seat, without resistance, in the litter.

All the servants went after her to the chamber of justice.

When Mefres, with the nomarch, was passing through the garden, the nomarch said,

"I have compassion on that woman."

"She will be punished properly for lying," answered the high priest.

"Dost Thou think so, worthiness?"

"I am certain that the gods will discover and punish the real murderer."

At the garden gate the steward of Kama's villa stood in the road before them.

"The Phoenician woman is gone. She disappeared last night."

"A new misfortune," whispered the nomarch.

"Have no fear," said Mefres; "she followed the prince."

From these answers the worthy nomarch saw that Mefres hated the prince, and his heart sank in him. If they proved that Ramses had killed his own son, the heir would never ascend the throne of his fathers, and the heavy yoke of the priesthood would weigh down still more mightily on Egypt.

The sadness of the nomarch increased when they told him in the evening that two physicians of the temple of Hator, when looking at the corpse of the infant, had expressed the opinion that only a man could have committed the murder. Some man, said they, seized with his right hand the feet of the little boy, and broke his skull against the wall of the building. Sarah's hand could not clasp both legs, on which, moreover, were traces of large fingers.

After this explanation Mefres, in company with the high priest Sem, went to Sarah in the prison, and implored her by all the gods of Egypt and of foreign lands to declare that she was not guilty of the death of the child, and to describe the person of the murderer.

"We will believe thy word," said Mefres, "and Thou wilt be free immediately."

But Sarah, instead of being moved by this proof of friendliness, fell into anger.

"Jackals," cried she, "two victims are not enough; ye want still more. I, unfortunate woman, did this; I, for who else would be so abject as to kill a child a little child that had never harmed any one?"

"But dost Thou know, stubborn woman, what threatens thee?" asked the holy Mefres. "Thou wilt hold the remains of thy child for three days in thy arms, and then be fifteen years in prison."

"Only three days?" repeated Sarah. "But I would never part with my little Seti; and not only to prison, but to the grave will I go with him, and my lord will command to bury us together."

When the high priest left Sarah, the most pious Sem said,

"I have seen mothers who killed their own children, and I have judged them; but none were like her."

"For she did not kill her child," answered Mefres, angrily.

"Who, then?"

"He whom the servants saw when he rushed into Sarah's house and fled a moment later; he who, when going against the enemy, took with him the priestess Kama, who denied the altar; he," concluded Mefres, excitedly, "who hunted Sarah out of the house, and made her a slave because her son had been made a Jew."

"Thy words are terrible," answered Sem, in alarm.

"The criminal is still worse, and, in spite of that stupid woman's stubbornness, he will be discovered."

But the holy man did not suppose that his prophecy would be accomplished so quickly.

And it was accomplished in the following manner: Prince Ramses, when moving from Pi-Bast with the army, had not left the palace when the chief of the police learned of the murder of Sarah's child, and the flight of Kama, and this, too, that Sarah's servants saw the prince entering her house in the night time. The chief of police was a very keen person; he pondered over this question, Who could have committed the crime? and instead of inquiring on the spot, he hastened to pursue the guilty parties outside the city, and forewarned Hiram of what had happened.

While Mefres was trying to extort a confession from Sarah, the most active agents of the Pi-Bast police, and with them every Phoenician under the leadership of Hiram, were hunting the Greek Lykon and the priestess Kama.

So three nights after the prince had departed, the chief of police returned to Pi-Bast, bringing with him a large cage covered with linen, in which was some woman who screamed in heaven-piercing accents. Without lying down to sleep, the chief summoned the officer who had made the investigation, and listened to his report attentively.

At sunrise the two priests, Sem and Mefres, with the nomarch of Pi- Bast, received a most humble invitation to deign immediately, should such be their will, to come to the chief of police. In fact, all three entered at the very same moment; so the chief, bending low, implored them to tell all that they knew concerning the murder of the son of the viceroy.

The nomarch, though a great dignitary, grew pale when he heard the humble invitation, and answered that he knew nothing. The high priest Sem gave almost the same answer, adding, for himself, the reflection that Sarah seemed to him innocent.

When the turn came to the holy Mefres, he said,

"I know not whether Thou hast heard, worthiness, that during the night of the crime one of the prince's women escaped; her name was Kama."

The chief of police feigned to be greatly astonished.

"I know not," continued Mefres, "whether they have told thee that the heir did not pass the night in the palace, but was in Sarah's house. The doorkeeper and two servants recognized him, for the night was rather clear. It is a great pity," finished the high priest, "that Thou hast not been here these two days past."

The chief bowed very low to Mefres, and turned to the nomarch,

"Wouldst Thou be pleased, worthiness, to tell me, graciously, how the prince was dressed that evening?"

"He wore a white jacket, and a purple apron with gold fringe," answered the nomarch. "I remember very well, for that evening I was one of the last who spoke with him."

The chief of the police clapped his hands, and Sarah's doorkeeper entered the chamber.

"Didst Thou see the prince," inquired he, "when he came in the night to the house of thy lady?"

"I opened the door to his worthiness, may he live through eternity!"

"And dost Thou remember how he was dressed?"

"He wore a jacket with yellow and black stripes, a cap of the same colors, and a blue and red apron," answered the doorkeeper.

Both priests and the nomarch began to wonder.

Then they brought in Sarah's servants, who repeated exactly the same description of the prince's dress. The nomarch's eyes flashed with delight, but on the face of the holy Mefres confusion was evident.

"I will swear," put in the worthy nomarch, "that the prince wore a white jacket and a purple apron with gold fringe."

"Now, most worthy men," said the chief of police, "be pleased to come with me to the prison. There we shall see one more witness."

They went to a subterranean hall, where under a window stood a great cage covered with linen. The chief threw back the linen with his stick, and those present saw a woman lying in a corner.

"But this is the Lady Kama!" cried the nomarch.

It was indeed Kama, sick and changed very greatly. When she rose at sight of the dignitaries, and appeared in the light, those present saw that her face had bronze-colored spots on it. Her eyes seemed wandering.

"Kama," said the chief, "the goddess Astaroth has touched thee with leprosy."

"It was not the goddess!" said she, with a changed voice. "It was the low Asiatics, who threw in a tainted veil to me. Oh, I am unfortunate!"

"Kama," continued the chief, "our most famous high priests, Sem and Mefres, have taken compassion on thee. If Thou wilt tell the truth, they will pray for thee, and perhaps the all-mighty Osiris will turn from thee misfortune. There is still time, the disease is only beginning, and our gods have great power."

The sick woman fell on her knees, and pressing her face against the grating, said in a broken voice,

"Have compassion on me! I have renounced Phoenician gods, and to the end of life will serve the gods of Egypt. Only avert from me."

"Answer, but answer truly," said the chief, "and the gods will not refuse thee their favor. Who killed the child of the Jewess Sarah?"

"The traitor, Lykon, the Greek. He was a singer in our temple, and said that he loved me. But he has rejected me, the infamous traitor, and seized my jewels."

"Why did Lykon kill the child?"

"He wanted to kill the prince, but not finding him in the palace, he ran to Sarah's villa."

"How did the criminal enter a house that was guarded?"

"Dost Thou not know that Lykon resembles the prince? They are as much alike as two leaves of one palm-tree."

"How was Lykon dressed that night?"

"He wore a jacket in yellow and black stripes, a cap of the same material, and a red and blue apron. Do not torment me; return me my health! Be compassionate! I will be faithful to your gods! Are ye going already? Oh, hard-hearted!"

"Poor woman," said the high priest Sem, "I will send to thee a mighty worker of miracles; he may."

"May ye be blessed by Astaroth! No, may your almighty and compassionate gods bless you," whispered Kama, in dreadful weariness.

The dignitaries left the prison and returned to the upper hall. The nomarch, seeing that the high priest Mefres kept his eyes cast down and his lips fixed, asked him,

"Art Thou not rejoiced, holy man, at these wonderful discoveries made by our chief?"

"I have no reason to rejoice," answered Mefres, dryly. "The case, instead of being simplified, has grown difficult. Sarah asserts that she killed the child, while the Phoenician woman answers as if some one had taught her."

"Then dost Thou not believe, worthiness?" interrupted the chief.

"No, for I have never seen two men so much alike that one could be mistaken for the other. Still more, I have never heard that there exists in Pi-Bast a man who could counterfeit our viceroy, may he live through eternity!"

"That man," said the chief, "was in Pi-Bast, at the temple of Astaroth. The Tyrian Prince Hiram knew him, and our viceroy has seen him with his own eyes. More than that, not long ago, he commanded me to seize him, and even offered a large reward."

"Ho! ho!" cried Mefres, "I see, worthy chief, I see that the highest secrets of the state are concentrating about thee. But permit me not to believe in that Lykon till I see him."

And he left the hall in anger, and after him Sem, shrugging his shoulders. But when their steps had ceased to sound in the corridor, the nomarch, looking quickly at the chief, asked,

"What dost Thou think?"

"Indeed," said the chief, "the holy prophets are beginning to interfere in things which have never been under their jurisdiction."

"And we must endure this!" whispered the nomarch.

"For a time only," sighed the chief. "In so far as I know men's hearts, all the military, all the officials of his holiness, in fine, all the aristocracy, are indignant at this priestly tyranny. Everything must have its limit."

"Thou hast uttered great words," said the nomarch, pressing the chief's hand, "and some internal voice tells me that I shall see thee as supreme chief of police at the side of his holiness."

A couple of days passed. During this time the dissectors had secured from corruption the remains of the viceroy's son; but Sarah continued in prison, awaiting her trial, certain that she would be condemned.

Kama was sitting, also, confined in her cage; people feared her, for she was infected with leprosy. It is true that a miracle-working physician visited her, repeated prayers before her, gave her everything to drink, and gave her healing water. Still, fever did not leave the woman, and the bronze-colored spots on her cheeks and brows grew more definite. Therefore an order came from the nomarch to take her out to the eastern desert, where, separated from mankind, dwelt a colony of lepers.

On a certain evening the chief appeared at the temple of Ptah, saying that he wished to speak with the high priest. The chief had with him two agents, and a man covered from head to foot in a bag.

After a while an answer was sent to the chief that the high priests were awaiting him in the sacred chamber of the statue of their divinity.

The chief left the agents before the gate, took by the arm the man dressed in the bag, and, conducted by a priest, went to the sacred chamber. When he entered, he found Mefres and Sem arrayed as high priests, with silver plates on their bosoms.