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Title: The Pharaoh and the Priest
       An Historical Novel of Ancient Egypt

Author: Boleslaw Prus

Translator: Jeremiah Curtin

Release Date: November 28, 2007 [EBook #23646]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

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Produced by Charles Klingman






THE PHARAOH
AND THE PRIEST

AN HISTORICAL NOVEL
OF ANCIENT EGYPT



The Pharaoh and the Priest



THE PHARAOH
AND THE PRIEST




FROM THE ORIGINAL POLISH OF ALEXANDER GLOVATSKI



BY

JEREMIAH CURTIN

TRANSLATOR OF "WITH FIRE AND SWORD," "THE DELUGE"
"QUO VADIS," ETC.



WITH ILLUSTRATIONS FROM PHOTOGRAPHS



BOSTON LITTLE, BROWN
AND COMPANY.1902




CURTIN.



All rights reserved.
Published September, 1902.





UNIVERSITY PRESS JOHN WILSON AND SON CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A.







PREFATORY REMARKS



The position of Ancient Egypt was unique, not in one, but in every
sense. To begin at the very foundation of life in that country, we find
that the soil was unlike any other on earth in its origin. Every acre
of fruitful land between the first cataract and the sea had been
brought from Inner Africa, and each year additions were made to it. Out
of this mud, borne down thousands of miles from the great fertile
uplands of Abyssinia by rivers, grew everything needed to feed and
clothe man and nourish animals. Out of it also was made the brick from
which walls, houses, and buildings of various uses and kinds were
constructed. Though this soil of the country was rich, it could be
utilized only by the unceasing co-ordinate efforts of a whole
population constrained and directed. To direct and constrain was the
task of the priests and the pharaohs.

Never have men worked in company so long and successfully at tilling
the earth as the Egyptians, and never has the return been so continuous
and abundant from land as in their case.

The Nile valley furnished grain to all markets accessible by water;
hence Rome, Greece, and Judaea ate the bread of Egypt. On this national
tillage was founded the greatness of the country, for from it came the
means to execute other works, and in it began that toil, training, and
skill indispensable in rearing the monuments and doing those things
which have made Egypt famous forever, and preserved to us a knowledge
of the language, religion, modes of living, and history of that
wonderful people who held the Nile valley. No civilized person who has
looked on the pyramid of Ghizeh, the temple of Karnak, and the tombs of
the pharaohs in the Theban region, can ever forget them. But in those
monuments are preserved things of far greater import than they
themselves are. In the tombs and temples of Egypt we see on stone and
papyrus how that immense work of making speech visible was
accomplished, that task of presenting language to the eye instead of
the ear, and preserving the spoken word so as to give it to eye or ear
afterwards. In other terms, we have the history of writing from its
earliest beginnings to the point at which we connect it with the system
used now by all civilized nations excepting the Chinese. In those
monuments are preserved the history of religion in Egypt, not from the
beginning of human endeavor to explain first what the world is and then
what we ourselves are and what we and the world mean together, but from
a time far beyond any recorded by man in other places.

Egyptians had the genius which turned a narrow strip of Abyssinian mud
and a triangular patch of swamp at the end of it into the most fruitful
land of antiquity. They had also that genius which impels man to look
out over the horizon around him, see more than the material problems of
life, and gaze into the beyond, gaze intently and never cease gazing
till he finds what his mind seeks. It was the possession of these two
kinds of genius and the union of the two which made the position of
Egypt in history unique and unapproachable.

The greatness of Egypt lay primarily in her ideas, and was achieved
through a perfect control over labor by intellect. While this control
was exerted even approximately in accordance with the nation's
historical calling, it was effectual and also unchallenged. But when
the exercise of power, with the blandishments and physical pleasures
which always attend it, had become dearer to the priesthood and to
pharaohs than aught else on earth or in their ideals, then began the
epoch of Egypt's final doom: foreign bondage and national ruin.

The action presented in the volume before us relates to those days when
the guiding intellect of Egypt became irrevocably dual, and when
between the two parts of it, the priests and the pharaohs, opposition
appeared so clearly defined and incurable that the ruin of both sides
was evident in the future.

The ruin of a pharaoh and the fall of his dynasty, with the rise of a
self-chosen sovereign and a new line of rulers, are the double
consummation in this novel. The book ends with that climax, but the
fall of the new priestly rulers is a matter of history, as is the
destruction wrought on Egypt by tyrants from Assyria and Persia. The
native pharaohs lost power through the priesthood, whose real interest
it was to support them; but fate found the priests later on, and
pronounced on them also the doom of extinction.

Alexander Glovatski was born in 1847 in Mashov, a village of the
Government of Lublin. He finished his preliminary studies in the Lublin
Gymnasium, and was graduated from the University of Warsaw. He took
part in the uprising of 1863, but was captured, and liberated after
some mouths' detention. As a student he showed notable power, and was
exceptionally attracted by mathematics and science, to which he gives
much attention yet, though occupied mainly in literature.

Glovatski's published works are in seventeen volumes. These books, with
the exception of "The Pharaoh and the Priest," are devoted to modern
characters, situations, and questions. His types are mainly from Polish
life. Very few of his characters are German or Russian; of Polish types
some are Jewish.

Alexander Glovatski is a true man of letters, a real philosopher,
retiring, industrious, and modest. He spends all his winters in Warsaw,
and lives every summer in the country. He permits neither society nor
coteries, nor interests of any sort, to snatch away time from him, or
influence his convictions. He goes about as he chooses, whenever he
likes and wherever it suits him. When ready to work he sits down in his
own house, and tells the world carefully and with kindness, though not
without irony, what he sees in it. What he sees is exhibited in the
seventeen volumes, which contain great and vivid pictures of life at
the end of the recent century. Men and women of various beliefs,
occupations, and values, are shown there.

Glovatski is entirely unknown to Americans. This book will present him.

Excepting the view in the temple of Luxor the illustrations given in
this volume are from photographs taken by me in 1899, while I was
traveling in Egypt.

The title of this volume has been changed from "The Pharaoh" to "The
Pharaoh and the Priest," at the wish of the author.

JEREMIAH CURTIN.

BRISTOL, VERMONT, U. S. A.,
July 28, 1902.



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Alexander Glovatski Frontispiece

Jeremiah Curtin at the Statue of Ramses the Great in the Temple of
Luxor

Step Pyramid

Village of Bedreshen on the site of Memphis

Pyramid of Cheops

The Great Sphinx

Statue of the Pharaoh Tutankhamen

General View of the Ruins of Karnak

Tomb of a Pharaoh in the Libyan Hills

Avenue of Sphinxes from the Temple of Karnak to the Nile




THE PHARAOH AND THE PRIEST



INTRODUCTION

In the northeastern corner of Africa lies Egypt, that land of most
ancient civilization. Three, four, and even five thousand years ago,
when the savages of Central Europe wore untanned skins for clothing and
were cave-dwellers, Egypt had a high social organization, agriculture,
crafts, and literature. Above all, it carried out engineering works and
reared immense buildings, the remnants of which rouse admiration in
specialists of our day.

Egypt is that rich ravine between the Libyan sands and the Arabian
desert. Its depth is several hundred meters, its length six hundred and
fifty miles, its average width barely five. On the west the gently
sloping but naked Libyan hills, on the east the steep and broken cliffs
of Arabia form the sides of a corridor on the bottom of which flows the
river Nile.

With the course of the river northward the walls of the corridor
decrease in height, while a hundred and twenty-five miles from the sea
they expand on a sudden, and the river, instead of flowing through a
narrow passage, spreads in various arms over a broad level plain which
is shaped like a triangle. This triangle, called the Delta of the Nile,
has for its base the shore of the Mediterranean; at its apex, where the
river issues from the corridor, stands the city of Cairo, and near by
are the ruins of Memphis, the ancient capital.

Could a man rise one hundred miles in the air and gaze thence upon
Egypt, he would see the strange outlines of that country and the
peculiar changes in its color. From that elevation, on the background
of white and orange colored sands, Egypt would look like a serpent
pushing with energetic twists through a desert to the sea, iii which it
has dipped already its triangular head, which has two eyes, the left
Alexandria, the right Damietta.

In October, when the Nile inundates Egypt, that long serpent would be
blue, like water. In February, when spring vegetation takes the place
of the decreasing river, the serpent would be green, with a blue line
along its body and a multitude of blue veins on its head; these are
canals which cut through the Delta. In March the blue line would be
narrower, and the body of the serpent, because of ripening grain, would
seem golden. Finally, in the first days of June the line of the Nile
would be very narrow and the serpent's body gray from dust and drought.
The chief climatic feature in Egypt is heat. During January it is 57
above zero, in July sometimes the heat reaches 149 which answers to the
temperature of a Roman bath. Moreover, in the neighborhood of the
Mediterranean, on the Delta, rain falls barely ten times a year; in
Upper Egypt it falls once during ten years.

In these conditions Egypt, instead of being the cradle of civilization,
would have been a desert ravine like one of those which compose the
Sahara, if the waters of the sacred Nile had not brought life to it
annually. From the last days of June till the end of September the Nile
swells and inundates almost all Egypt; from the end of October to the
last days in May the year following it falls and exposes gradually
lower and lower platforms of land. The waters of the river are so
permeated with mineral and organic matter that their color becomes
brownish; hence, as the waters decrease, on inundated lands is
deposited fruitful mud which takes the place of the best fertilizer.
Owing to this, mud and to heat, Egyptian earth tillers, fenced in
between deserts, have three harvests yearly and from one grain of seed
receive back about three hundred.

Egypt, however, is not a flat plain, but a rolling country; some
portions of its laud drink the blessed waters during two or three
months only; others do not see it every year, as the overflow does not
reach certain points annually. Besides, seasons of scant water occur,
and then a part of Egypt fails to receive the enriching deposit.
Finally, because of heat the earth dries up quickly, and then man has
to irrigate out of vessels.

In view of all these conditions people inhabiting the Nile valley had
to perish if they were weak, or regulate the water if they had genius.
The ancient Egyptians had genius, hence they created civilization.

Six thousand years ago they observed that the Nile rose when the sun
appeared under Sirius, and began to fall when it neared the
constellation Libra. This impelled them to make astronomical
observations and to measure time.

To preserve water for the whole year, they dug throughout their country
a network of canals many thousand miles in length. To guard against
excessive waste of water, they built mighty dams and dug reservoirs,
among which the artificial lake Moeris occupied three hundred square
kilometers of surface and was fifty-four meters deep. Finally, along
the Nile and the canals they set up a multitude of simple but practical
hydraulic works; through the aid of these they raised water and poured
it out upon the fields; these machines were placed one or two stories
higher than the water. To complete all, there was need to clear the
choked canals yearly, repair the dams and build lofty roads for the
army, which had to march at all seasons.

These gigantic works demanded knowledge of astronomy, geometry,
mechanics, and architecture, besides a perfect organization. Whether
the task was the strengthening of dams or the clearing of canals, it
had to be done and finished within a certain period over a great area.
Hence arose the need of forming an army of laborers, tens of thousands
in number, acting with a definite purpose and under uniform direction,
an army which demanded many provisions, much means, and great auxiliary
forces.

Egypt established such an army of laborers, and to them were due works
renowned during ages. It seems that Egyptian priests or sages created
this army and then drew out plans for it, while the kings, or pharaohs,
commanded. In consequence of this the Egyptians in the days of their
greatness formed as it were one person, in which the priestly order
performed the role of mind, the pharaoh was the will, the people formed
the body, and obedience gave cohesion.

In this way nature, striving in Egypt for a work great, continuous, and
ordered, created the skeleton of a social organism for that country as
follows: the people labored, the pharaoh commanded, the priests made
the plans. While these three elements worked unitedly toward the
objects indicated by nature, society had strength to flourish and
complete immortal labors.

The mild, gladsome, and by no means warlike Egyptians were divided into
two classes, earth-tillers and artisans. Among earth-tillers there must
have been owners of small bits of laud, but generally earth-tillers
were tenants on lands belonging to the pharaohs, the priests, and the
aristocracy. The artisans, the people who made clothing, furniture,
vessels, and tools, were independent; those who worked at great
edifices formed, as it were, an army.

Each of those specialties, and particularly architecture, demanded
power of hauling and moving; some men had to draw water all day from
canals, or transport stones from the quarries to where they were
needed. These, the most arduous mechanical occupations, and above all
work in the quarries were carried on by criminals condemned by the
courts, or by prisoners seized in battle.

The genuine Egyptians had a bronze-colored skin, of which they were
very proud, despising the black Ethiopian, the yellow Semite, and the
white European. This color of skin, which enabled them to distinguish
their own people from strangers, helped to keep up the nation's unity
more strictly than religion, which a man may accept, or language, which
he may appropriate.

But in time, when the edifice of the state began to weaken, foreign
elements appeared in growing numbers. They lessened cohesion, they
split apart society, they flooded Egypt and absorbed the original
inhabitants.

The pharaohs governed the state by the help of a standing army and a
militia or police, also by a multitude of officials, from whom was
formed by degrees an aristocracy of family. By his office the pharaoh
was lawgiver, supreme king, highest judge, chief priest; he was the son
of a god, a god himself even. He accepted divine honors, not only from
officials and the people, but sometimes he raised altars to his own
person, and burnt incense before images of himself.

At the side of the pharaoh and very often above him were priests, an
order of sages who directed the destinies of the country.

In our day it is almost impossible to imagine the extraordinary role
which the priests played in Egypt. They were instructors of rising
generations, also soothsayers, hence the advisers of mature people,
judges of the dead, to whom their will and their knowledge guaranteed
immortality. They not only performed the minute ceremonies of religion
for the gods and the pharaohs, but they healed the sick as physicians,
they influenced the course of public works as engineers, and also
politics as astrologers, but above all they knew their own country and
its neighbors.

In Egyptian history the first place is occupied by the relations which
existed between the priests and the pharaohs. Most frequently the
pharaoh laid rich offerings before the gods and built temples. Then he
lived long, and his name, with his images cut out on monuments, passed
from generation to generation, full of glory. But many pharaohs reigned
for a short period only, and of some not merely the deeds, but the
names disappeared from record. A couple of times it happened that a
dynasty fell, and straightway the cap of the pharaohs, encircled with a
serpent, was taken by a priest.

Egypt continued to develop while a people of one composition, energetic
kings, and wise priests co-operated for the common weal. But a time
came when the people, in consequence of wars, decreased in number and
lost their strength through oppression and extortion; the intrusion of
foreign elements at this period undermined Egyptian race unity. And
when the energy of pharaohs and the wisdom of priests sank in the flood
of Asiatic luxury, and these two powers began to struggle with each
other for undivided authority to plunder the toiling people, then Egypt
fell under foreign control, and the light of civilized life, which had
burnt on the Nile for millenniums, was extinguished.

The following narrative relates to the eleventh century before Christ,
when the twentieth dynasty fell, and after the offspring of the sun,
the eternally living Ramses XIII, Sem-Amen-Herhor, the high priest of
Amon and ever-living offspring of the sun, forced his way to the throne
and adorned his head with the ureus.



CHAPTER I

In the thirty-third year of the happy reign of Ramses XII, Egypt
celebrated two festivals which filled all its faithful inhabitants with
pride and delight.

In the month of Mechir that is, during January the god Khonsu returned
to Thebes covered with costly gifts. For three years and nine months he
had traveled in the country of Buchten, where he restored health to the
king's daughter, Bentres, and expelled an evil spirit not only from the
royal family, but even from the fortress.

So in the month Farmuti (February) Mer-Amen-Ramses XII, the lord of
Upper and Lower Egypt, the ruler of Phoenicia and nine nations, after
consultation with the gods to whom he was equal, named as erpatr, or
heir to the throne, his son, aged twenty years, Cham-Sem Merer-Amen-
Ramses.

This choice delighted the pious priests, the worthy nomarchs, the
valiant army, the faithful people, and every creature living in Egypt,
because the older sons of the pharaoh, who were born of a Hittite
princess, had been visited by an evil spirit through enchantments which
no one had the power to investigate. One son of twenty-seven years was
unable to walk after reaching maturity; the second opened his veins and
died; the third, through poisoned wine, which he would not cease
drinking, fell into madness, and believing himself a monkey, passed
whole days among tree branches.

But the fourth son, Ramses, born of Queen Nikotris, daughter of the
priest Amenhotep, was as strong as the bull Apis, as brave as a lion,
and as wise as the priests. From childhood he surrounded himself with
warriors, and while still a common prince, used to say,

"If the gods, instead of making me the youngest son of his holiness,
had made me a pharaoh, like Ramses the Great, I would conquer nine
nations, of which people in Egypt have never heard mention; I would
build a temple larger than all Thebes, and rear for myself a pyramid
near which the tomb of Cheops would be like a rosebush at the side of a
full-grown palm-tree."

On receiving the much desired title of heir, the young prince begged
his father to be gracious and appoint him to command the army corps of
Memphis. To this his holiness, Ramses XII, after consultation with the
gods, to whom he was equal, answered that he would do so in case the
heir could give proof that he had skill to direct a mass of troops
arrayed for battle.

A council was called under the presidency of the minister of war, Sem-
Amen-Herhor, high priest of the great sanctuary of Amon in Thebes.

The council decided in this way: "The heir to the throne, in the middle
of the month Mesore, will take ten regiments, disposed along the line
which connects Memphis with the city of Pi-uto, situated on the Bay of
Sebenico.

"With this corps of ten thousand men prepared for battle, provided with
a camp and with military engines, the heir will betake himself eastward
along the highroad from Memphis toward Hittite regions, which road lies
on the boundary between the land of Goshen and the wilderness. At this
time General Nitager, commander of the army which guards the gates of
Egypt from attacks of Asiatic people, will move from the Bitter Lakes
against the heir, Prince Ramses.

"Both armies, the Asiatic and the Western, are to meet near Pi-Bailos,
but in the wilderness, so that industrious husbandmen in the land of
Goshen be not hindered in their labors.

"The heir will be victorious if he does not let himself be surprised by
Nitager, that is, if he concentrates all his forces and succeeds in
putting them in order of battle to meet the enemy.

"His worthiness Herhor, the minister of war, will be present in the
camp of Prince Ramses, and will report to the pharaoh."

Two ways of communication formed the boundary between the land of
Goshen and the desert. One was the transport canal from Memphis to Lake
Timrah; the other was the highroad. The canal was in the laud of
Goshen, the highroad in the desert which both ways bounded with a half
circle.

The canal was visible from almost every point upon the highroad.
Whatever artificial boundaries might be, these neighboring regions
differed in all regards. The land of Goshen, though a rolling country,
seemed a plain; the desert was composed of limestone hills and sandy
valleys. The land of Goshen seemed a gigantic chessboard the green and
yellow squares of which were indicated by the color of grain and by
palms growing on their boundaries; but on the ruddy sand of the desert
and its white hills a patch of green or a clump of trees and bushes
seemed like a lost traveler.

On the fertile land of Goshen from each hill shot up a dark grove of
acacias, sycamores, and tamarinds which from a distance looked like our
lime-trees; among these were concealed villas with rows of short
columns, or the yellow mud huts of earth-tillers. Sometimes near the
grove was a white village with flat-roofed houses, or above the trees
rose the pyramidal gates of a temple, like double cliffs, many-colored
with strange characters. From the desert beyond the first row of hills,
which were a little green, stared naked elevations covered with blocks
of stone. It seemed as if the western region, sated with excess of
life, hurled with regal generosity to the other side flowers and
vegetables, but the desert in eternal hunger devoured them in the
following year and turned them into ashes.

The stunted vegetation, exiled to cliffs and sands, clung to the lower
places until, by means of ditches made in the sides of the raised
highroad, men conducted water from the canals to it. In fact, hidden
oases between naked hills along that highway drank in the divine water.
In these oases grew wheat, barley, grapes, palms, and tamarinds. The
whole of such an oasis was sometimes occupied by one family, which when
it met another like itself at the market in Pi-Bailos might not even
know that they were neighbors in the desert.

On the fifteenth of Mesore the concentration of troops was almost
finished. The regiments of Prince Ramses, which were to meet the
Asiatic forces of Nitager, had assembled on the road above the city of
Pi-Bailos with their camp and with some military engines.

The heir himself directed all the movements. He had organized two
parties of scouts. Of these the first had to watch the enemy, the other
to guard its own army from attack, which was possible in a hilly region
with many ravines. Ramses, in the course of a week, rode around and
examined all the regiments, inarching by various roads, looking
carefully to see if the soldiers had good weapons and warm mantles for
the night hours, if in the camps there was dried bread in sufficiency
as well as meat and dried fish. He commanded, besides, that the wives,
children, and slaves of warriors marching to the eastern boundary
should be conveyed by canal; this diminished the number of chariots and
eased the movements of the army.

The oldest generals admired the zeal, knowledge, and caution of the
heir, and, above all, his simplicity and love of labor. His court,
which was numerous, his splendid tent, chariots, and litters were left
in the capital, and, dressed as a simple officer, he hurried from
regiment to regiment on horseback, in Assyrian fashion, attended by two
adjutants.

Thanks to this concentration, the corps itself went forward very
swiftly, and the army was near Pi-Bailos at the time appointed.

It was different with the prince's staff, and the Greek regiment
accompanying it, and with some who moved military engines.

The staff, collected in Memphis, had the shortest road to travel; hence
it moved latest, bringing an immense camp with it. Nearly every
officer, and they were young lords of great families, had a litter with
four negroes, a two-wheeled military chariot, a rich tent, and a
multitude of boxes with food and clothing, also jars full of beer and
wine. Besides, a numerous troop of singers and dancers, with music, had
betaken themselves to journey behind the officers; each woman must, in
the manner of a great lady, have a car drawn by one or two pair of
oxen, and must have also a litter.

When this throng poured out of Memphis, it occupied more space on the
highway than the army of Prince Ramses. The march was so slow that the
military engines which were left at the rear moved twenty-four hours
later than was ordered. To complete every evil the female dancers and
singers, on seeing the desert, not at all dreadful in that place, were
terrified and fell to weeping. To calm these women it was necessary to
hasten with the night camp, pitch tents, arrange a spectacle, and a
feast afterward.

The night amusement in the cool, under the starry sky, with wild nature
for a background, pleased dancers and singers exceedingly; they
declared that they would travel thenceforth only through the desert.
Meanwhile Prince Ramses sent an order to turn all women back to Memphis
at the earliest and urge the march forward.

His dignity Herhor, minister of war, was with the staff, but only as a
spectator. He had not brought singers himself, but he made no remarks
to officers. He gave command to carry his litter at the head of the
column, and accommodating himself to its movements, advanced or rested
under the immense fan with which his adjutant shaded him.

Herhor was a man of forty and some years of age, strongly built,
concentrated in character. He spoke rarely, and looked at people as
rarely from under his drooping eyelids. He went with arms and legs
bare, like every Egyptian, his breast exposed; he had sandals on his
feet, a short skirt about his hips, an apron with blue and white
stripes. As a priest, he shaved his beard and hair and wore a panther-
skin hanging from his left shoulder. As a soldier, he covered his head
with a small helmet of the guard; from under this helmet hung a
kerchief, also in blue and white stripes; this reached his shoulders.
Around his neck was a triple gold chain, and under his left arm a short
sword in a costly scabbard. His litter, borne by six black slaves, was
attended always by three persons: one carried his fan, another the mace
of the minister, and the third a box for papyrus. This third man was
Pentuer, a priest, and the secretary of Herhor. He was a lean ascetic
who in the greatest heat never covered his shaven head. He came of the
people, but in spite of low birth he occupied a high position in the
state; this was due to exceptional abilities.

Though the minister with his officials preceded the staff and held
himself apart from its movements, it could not be said that he was
unconscious of what was happening behind him. Every hour, at times
every half hour, some one approached Herhor's litter, now a priest of
lower rank, an ordinary "servant of the gods," a marauding soldier, a
freedman, or a slave, who, passing as it were indifferently the silent
retinue of the minister, threw out a word. That word Pentuer recorded
sometimes, but more frequently he remembered it, for his memory was
amazing.

No one in the noisy throng of the staff paid attention to these
details. The officers, sons of great lords, were too much occupied by
running, by noisy conversation, or by singing, to notice who approached
the minister; all the more since a multitude of people were pushing
along the highway.

On the sixteenth of Mesore the staff of Prince Ramses, together with
his dignity the minister, passed the night under the open sky at the
distance of five miles from the regiments which were arranged in battle
order across the highway beyond the city of Pi-Bailos.

In that early morning which precedes our six o'clock, the hills grew
violet, and from behind them came forth the sun. A rosy light flowed
over the land of Goshen. Villages, temples, palaces of magnates, and
huts of earth-tillers looked like sparks and flames which flashed up in
one moment from the midst of green spaces. Soon the western horizon was
flooded with a golden hue, and the green land of Goshen seemed melting
into gold, and the numberless canals seemed filled with molten silver.
But the desert hills grew still more marked with violet, and cast long
shadows on the sands, and darkness on the plant world.

The guards who stood along that highway could see with the utmost
clearness fields, edged with palms, beyond the canal. Some fields were
green with flax, wheat, clover; others were gilded with ripening barley
of the second growth. Now earth-tillers began to come out to field
labor, from huts concealed among trees; they were naked and bronze-
hued; their whole dress was a short skirt and a cap. Some turned to
canals to clear them of mud, or to draw water. Others dispersing among
the trees gathered grapes and ripe figs. Many naked children stirred
about, and women were busy in white, yellow, or red shirts which were
sleeveless.

There was great movement in that region. In the sky birds of prey from
the desert pursued pigeons and daws in the land of Goshen. Along the
canal squeaking sweeps moved up and down, with buckets of fertilizing
water; fruit-gatherers appeared and disappeared among the trees, like
colored butterflies. But in the desert, on the highway, swarmed the
army and its servants. A division of mounted lancers shot past. Behind
them marched bowmen in caps and petticoats; they had bows in their
hands, quivers on their shoulders, and broadswords at their right
sides. The archers were accompanied by slingers who carried bags with
missiles and were armed with short swords.

A hundred yards behind them advanced two small divisions of footmen,
one division armed with darts, the other with spears. Both carried
rectangular shields; on their breasts they had thick coats, as it were
armor, and on their heads caps with kerchiefs behind to ward off the
sun-rays. The caps and coats had blue and white stripes or yellow and
black stripes, which made those soldiers seem immense hornets.

Behind the advance guard, surrounded by a retinue of macebearers,
pushed on the litter of the minister, and behind it, with bronze
helmets and breastplates, the Greek companies, whose measured tread
called to mind blows of heavy hammers. In the rear was heard the
creaking of vehicles, and from the side of the highway slipped along
the bearded Phoenician merchant in his litter borne between two asses.
Above all this rose a cloud of golden dust, and heat also.

Suddenly from the vanguard galloped up a mounted soldier and informed
Herhor that Prince Ramses, the heir to the throne, was approaching. His
worthiness descended from the litter, and at that moment appeared a
mounted party of men who halted and sprang from their horses. One man
of this party and the minister began to approach each other, halting
every few steps and bowing.

"Be greeted, O son of the pharaoh; may he live through eternity!" said
the minister.

"Be greeted and live long, O holy father!" answered Ramses; then he
added,

"Ye advance as slowly as if your legs were sawn off, while Nitager will
stand before our division in two hours at the latest."

"Thou hast told truth. Thy staff marches very slowly."

"Eunana tells me also," here Ramses indicated an officer standing
behind him who was covered with amulets, "that ye have not sent scouts
to search ravines. But in case of real war an enemy might attack from
that side."

"I am not the leader, I am only a judge," replied the minister,
quietly.

"But what can Patrokles be doing?"

"Patrokles is bringing up the military engines with his Greek
regiment."

"But my relative and adjutant, Tutmosis?"

"He is sleeping yet, I suppose."

Ramses stamped impatiently, and was silent. He was a beautiful youth,
with a face almost feminine, to which anger and sunburn added charm. He
wore a close-fitting coat with blue and white stripes, a kerchief of
the same color behind his helmet, a gold chain around his neck, and a
costly sword beneath his left arm.

"I see," said the prince, "that Thou alone, Eunana, art mindful of my
honor."

The officer covered with amulets bent to the earth.

"Tutmosis is indolent," said the heir. "Return to thy place, Eunana.
Let the vanguard at least have a leader."

Then, looking at the suite which now surrounded him as if it had sprung
from under the earth on a sudden, he added,

"Bring my litter. I am as tired as a quarryman."

"Can the gods grow tired?" whispered Eunana, still standing behind him.

"Go to thy place!" said Ramses.

"But perhaps Thou wilt command me, O image of the moon, to search the
ravines?" asked the officer, in a low voice. "Command, I beg thee, for
wherever I am my heart is chasing after thee to divine thy will and
accomplish it."

"I know that Thou art watchful," answered Ramses. "Go now and look
after everything."

"Holy father," said Eunana, turning to the minister, "I commend my most
obedient service to thy worthiness."

Barely had Eunana gone when at the end of the marching column rose a
still greater tumult. They looked for the heir's litter, but it was
gone. Then appeared, making his way through the Greek warriors, a youth
of strange exterior. He wore a muslin tunic, a richly embroidered
apron, and a golden scarf across his shoulder. But he was distinguished
above all by an immense wig with a multitude of tresses, and an
artificial beard like cats' tails.

That was Tutmosis, the first exquisite in Memphis, who dressed and
perfumed himself even during marches.

"Be greeted, Ramses!" exclaimed the exquisite, pushing aside officers
quickly. "Imagine thy litter is lost somewhere; Thou must sit in mine,
which really is not fit for thee, but it is not the worst."

"Thou hast angered me," answered the prince. "Thou sleepest instead of
watching the army."

The astonished exquisite stopped.

"I sleep?" cried he. "May the man's tongue wither up who invented that
calumny! I, knowing that Thou wouldst come, have been ready this hour
past, and am preparing a bath for thee and perfumes."

"While thus engaged, the regiment is without a commander."

"Am I to command a detachment where his worthiness the minister of war
is, and such a leader is present as Patrokles?"

Ramses was silent; meanwhile Tutmosis, approaching him, whispered,

"In what a plight Thou art, O son of the pharaoh! Without a wig, thy
hair and dress full of dust, thy skin black and cracked, like the earth
in summer. The queen, most deserving of honor, would drive me from the
court were she to look at thy wretchedness."

"I am only tired."

"Then take a seat in my litter. In it are fresh garlands of roses,
roast birds, and a jug of wine from Cyprus. I have kept also hidden in
the camp," added he in a lower voice, "Senura."

"Is she here?" asked the prince; and his eyes, glittering a moment
before, were now mist-covered.

"Let the army move on," said Tutmosis; "we will wait here for her."

Ramses recovered himself.

"Leave me, tempter! The battle will come in two hours."

"What! a battle?"

"At least the decision as to my leadership."

"Oh, laugh at it!" smiled the exquisite. "I would swear that the
minister of war sent a report of it yesterday, and with it the petition
to give thee the corps of Memphis."

"No matter if he did. Today I have no thought for anything but the
army."

"In thee this wish for war is dreadful, war during which a man does not
wash for a whole month, so as to die in--Brr! But if Thou couldst see
Senura, only glance at her. ."

"For that very reason I shall not glance at her," answered Ramses,
decisively.

At the moment when eight men were bringing from beyond the Greek ranks
the immense litter of Tutmosis for the use of Ramses, a horseman raced
in from the vanguard. He dropped from his horse and ran so quickly that
on his breast the images of the gods or the tablets with their names
rattled loudly. This was Eunana in great excitement.

All turned to him, and this gave him pleasure apparently.

"Erpatr, the loftiest lips," cried Eunana, bending before Ramses.
"When, in accordance with thy divine command, I rode at the head of a
detachment, looking carefully at all things, I noticed on the highroad
two beautiful scarabs. Each of these sacred beetles was rolling an
earth ball toward the sands near the roadside."

"What of that?" interrupted Ramses.

"Of course," continued Eunana, glancing toward Herhor, "I and my
people, as piety enjoins, rendered homage to the golden symbols of the
sun, and halted. That augury is of such import that no man of us would
make a step forward unless commanded."

"I see that Thou art a pious Egyptian, though Thou hast the features of
a Hittite," answered the worthy Herhor; and turning to certain
dignitaries standing near, he added,

"We will not advance farther by the highway, for we might crush the
sacred beetles. Pentuer, can we go around the road by that ravine on
the right?"

"We can," answered the secretary. "That ravine is five miles long, and
comes out again almost in front of Pi-Bailos."

"An immense loss of time!" interrupted Ramses, in anger.

"I would swear that those are not scarabs, but the spirits of my
Phoenician usurers," said Tutmosis the exquisite. "Not being able,
because of their death, to receive money from me, they will force me
now to march through the desert in punishment!"

The suite of the prince awaited the decision with fear; so Ramses
turned to Herhor,

"What dost Thou think of this, holy father?"

"Look at the officers," answered the priest, "and Thou wilt understand
that we must go by the ravine."

Now Patrokles, leader of the Greeks, pushed forward and said to the
heir,

"If the prince permit, my regiment will advance by the highway. My
soldiers have no fear of beetles!"

"Your soldiers have no fear of royal tombs even," added the minister.
"Still it cannot be safe in them since no one has ever returned."

The Greek pushed back to the suite confounded.

"Confess, holy father," hissed the heir, with the greatest anger, "that
such a hindrance would not stop even an ass on his journey."

"True, but no ass will ever be pharaoh," retorted the minister, calmly.

"In that case thou, O minister, wilt lead the division through the
ravine!" exclaimed Ramses. "I am unacquainted with priestly tactics;
besides, I must rest. Come with me, cousin," said he to Tutmosis; and
he turned toward some naked hills.

CHAPTER II

Straightway his worthiness Herhor directed his adjutant who carried the
mace to take charge of the vanguard in place of Eunana. Then he
commanded that the military engines for hurling great stones leave the
road, and that the Greek soldiers facilitate passage for those engines
in difficult places. All vehicles and litters of staff-officers were to
move in the rear.

When Herhor issued commands, the adjutant bearing the fan approached
Pentuer and asked,

"Will it be possible to go by this highway again?"

"Why not?" answered the young priest. "But since two sacred beetles
have barred the way now, we must not go farther; some misfortune might
happen."

"As it is, a misfortune has happened. Or hast Thou not noticed that
Prince Ramses is angry at the minister? and our lord is not forgetful."

"It is not the prince who is offended with our lord, but our lord with
the prince, and he has reproached him. He has done well; for it seems
to the young prince, at present, that he is to be a second Menes."

"Or a Ramses the Great," put in the adjutant.

"Ramses the Great obeyed the gods; for this cause there are
inscriptions praising him in all the temples. But Menes, the first
pharaoh of Egypt, was a destroyer of order, and thanks only to the
fatherly kindness of the priests that his name is still remembered,
though I would not give one brass uten on this, that the mummy of Menes
exists."

"My Pentuer," added the adjutant, "Thou art a sage, hence knowest that
it is all one to us whether we have ten lords or eleven."

"But it is not all one to the people whether they have to find every
year a mountain of gold for the priests, or two mountains of gold for
the priests and the pharaoh," answered Pentuer, while his eyes flashed.

"Thou art thinking of dangerous things," said the adjutant, in a
whisper.

"But how often hast Thou thyself grieved over the luxuries of the
pharaoh's court and of the nomarchs?" inquired the priest in
astonishment.

"Quiet, quiet! We will talk of this, but not now."

In spite of the sand the military engines, drawn each by two bullocks,
moved in the desert more speedily than along the highway. With the
first of them marched Eunana, anxiously. "Why has the minister deprived
me of leadership over the vanguard? Does he wish to give me a higher
position?" asked he in his own mind.

Thinking out then a new career, and perhaps to dull the fears which
made his heart quiver, he seized a pole and, where the sands were
deeper, propped the balista, or urged on the Greeks with an outcry.

They, however, paid slight attention to this officer.

The retinue had pushed on a good half hour through a winding ravine
with steep naked walls, when the vanguard halted a second time. At this
point another ravine crossed the first; in the middle of it extended a
rather broad canal.

The courier sent to the minister of war with notice of the obstacle
brought back a command to fill the canal immediately.

About a hundred soldiers with pickaxes and shovels rushed to the work.
Some knocked out stones from the cliff; others threw them into the
ditch and covered them with sand.

Meanwhile from the depth of the ravine came a man with a pickaxe shaped
like a stork's neck with the bill on it. He was an Egyptian slave, old
and entirely naked. He looked for a while with the utmost amazement at
the work of the soldiers; then, springing between them on a sudden, he
shouted,

"What are ye doing, vile people? This is a canal."

"But how darest Thou use evil words against the warriors of his
holiness?" asked Eunana, who stood there.

"Thou must be an Egyptian and a great person, I see that," said the
slave; "so I answer thee that this canal belongs to a mighty lord; he
is the manager and secretary of one who bears the fan for his
worthiness the nomarch of Memphis. Be on thy guard or misfortune will
strike thee!"

"Do your work," said Eunana, with a patronizing tone, to the Greek
soldiers who began to look at the slave.

They did not understand his speech, but the tone of it arrested them.

"They are filling in all the time!" said the slave, with rising fear.
"Woe to thee!" cried he, rushing at one of the Greeks with his pickaxe.

The Greek pulled it from the man, struck him on the mouth, and brought
blood to his lips; then he threw sand into the canal again.

The slave, stunned by the blow, lost courage and fell to imploring.

"Lord," said he, "I dug this canal alone for ten years, in the night
time and during festivals! My master promised that if I should bring
water to this little valley he would make me a servant in it, give me
one fifth of the harvests, and grant me freedom do you hear? Freedom to
me and my three children! O gods!"

He raised his hands and turned again to Eunana,

"They do not understand me, these vagrants from beyond the sea,
descendants of dogs, brothers to Jews and Phoenicians! But listen,
lord, to me! For ten years, while other men went to fairs and dances or
sacred processions, I stole out into this dreary ravine. I did not go
to the grave of my mother, I only dug; I forgot the dead so as to give
freedom with laud to my children, and to myself even one free day
before death. Ye, O gods, be my witnesses how many times has night
found me here! how many times have I heard the wailing cries of hyenas
in this place, and seen the green eyes of wolves! But I did not flee,
for whither was I, the unfortunate, to flee, when at every path terror
was lurking, and in this canal freedom held me back by the feet? Once,
beyond that turn there, a lion came out against me, the pharaoh of
beasts. The pickaxe dropped from my hands, I knelt down before him, and
I, as ye see me, said these words: 'O lord! is it thy pleasure to eat
me? I am only a slave.' But the lion took pity, the wolf also passed
by; even the treacherous bats spared my poor head; but thou, O
Egyptian."

The man stopped; he saw the retinue of Herhor approaching. By the fan
he knew him to be a great personage, and by the panther skin, a priest.
He ran to the litter, therefore, knelt down, and struck the sand with
his forehead.

"What dost Thou wish, man?" asked the dignitary.

"O light of the sun, listen to me!" cried the slave. "May there be no
groans in thy chamber, may no misfortune follow thee! May thy works
continue, and may the current not be interrupted when Thou shalt sail
by the Nile to the other shore."

"I ask what thy wish is," repeated Herhor.

"Kind lord," said the man, "leader without caprice, who conquerest the
false and createst the true, who art the father of the poor, the
husband of the widow, clothing for the motherless, permit me to spread
thy name as the equal of justice, most noble of the nobles." [Authentic
speech of a slave.]

"He wishes that this canal be not filled in," said Eunana.

Herhor shrugged his shoulders and pushed toward the place where they
were filling the canal. Then the despairing man seized his feet.

"Away with this creature!" cried his worthiness, pushing back as before
the bite of a reptile.

The secretary, Pentuer, turned his head; his lean face had a grayish
color. Eunana seized the man by the shoulders and pulled, but, unable
to drag him away from the minister's feet, he summoned warriors. After
a while Herhor, now liberated, passed to the other bank of the canal,
and the warriors tore away the earth-worker, almost carrying him to the
end of the detachment. There they gave the man some tens of blows of
fists, and subalterns who always carried canes gave him some tens of
blows of sticks, and at last threw him down at the entrance to the
ravine.

Beaten, bloody, and above all terrified, the wretched slave sat on the
sand for a while, rubbed his eyes, then sprang up suddenly and ran
groaning toward the highway,

"Swallow me, O earth! Cursed be the day in which I saw the light, and
the night in which it was said, 'A man is born!' In the mantle of
justice there is not the smallest shred for a slave. The gods
themselves regard not a creature whose hands are for labor, whose mouth
was made only for weeping, and whose back is for clubs. O death, rub my
body into ashes, so that there, beyond on the fields of Osiris, I be
not born into slavery a second time."



CHAPTER III

Panting with anger, Prince Ramses rushed up the hill, while behind him
followed Tutmosis. The wig of the exquisite had turned on his head, his
false beard had slipped down, and he carried it in his hand. In spite
of exertion he would have been pale had it not been for the layers of
rouge on his face.

At last Ramses halted at the summit. From the ravine came the outcry of
warriors and the rattle of the onrolling balistas; before the two men
stretched the immense plain of Goshen, bathed continually in sun-rays.
That did not seem land, but a golden cloud, on which the mind painted a
landscape in colors of silver, ruby, pearl, and topaz.

"Look," cried the heir to Tutmosis, stretching out his hand, "those are
to be my lands, and here is my army. Over there the loftiest edifices
are palaces of priests, and here the supreme chief of the troops is a
priest! Can anything like this be suffered?"

"It has always been so," replied Tutmosis, glancing around with
timidity.

"That is not true! I know the history of this country, which is hidden
to thee. The leaders of armies and the masters of officials were the
pharaohs alone, or at least the most energetic among them. Those rulers
did not pass their days in making offerings and prayers, but in
managing the state."

"If it is the desire of his holiness to pass his days that way?" said
Tutmosis.

"It is not my father's wish that nomarchs should govern as they please
in the capitals of provinces. Why, the governor of Ethiopia considered
himself as almost equal to the king of kings. And it cannot be my
father's wish that his army should inarch around two golden beetles
because the minister of war is a high priest."

"He is a great warrior," whispered Tutmosis, with increasing timidity.

"He a great warrior? Because he dispersed a handful of Libyan robbers
ready to flee at the mere sight of Egyptians. But see what our
neighbors are doing. Israel delays in paying tribute and pays less and
less of it. The cunning Phoenician steals a number of ships from our
fleet every year. On the east we are forced to keep up a great army
against the Hittites, while around Babylon and Nineveh there is such a
movement that it is felt throughout all Mesopotamia.

"And what is the outcome of priestly management? This, that while my
great-grandfather had a hundred thousand talents of yearly income and
one hundred and sixty thousand troops, my father has barely fifty
thousand talents and one hundred and twenty thousand troops.

"And what an army! Were it not for the Greek corps, which keeps them in
order as a dog watches sheep, the Egyptian soldiers today would obey
only priests and the pharaoh would sink to the level of a miserable
nomarch."

"Whence hast Thou learned this?" asked Tutmosis, with astonishment.

"Am I not of a priestly family? And besides, they taught me when I was
not heir to the throne. Oh, when I become pharaoh after my father, may
he live through eternity! I will put my bronze-sandaled foot on their
necks. But first of all I will seize their treasures, which have always
been bloated, but which from the time of Ramses the Great have begun to
swell out, and today are so swollen that the treasure of the pharaoh is
invisible because of them."

"Woe to me and to thee!" sighed Tutmosis. "Thou hast plans under which
this hill would bend could it hear and understand them. And where are
thy forces, thy assistance, thy warriors? Against thee the whole people
will rise, led by a class of men with mighty influence. But who is on
thy rider?"

Ramses listened and fell to thinking. At last he said,

"The army."

"A considerable part of it will follow the priests."

"The Greek corps."

"A barrel of water in the Nile."

"The officials."

"Half of them belong to the priests."

The prince shook his head sadly, and was silent.

From the summit they went down by a naked and stony slope to the
opposite base of the hill. Then Tutmosis, who had pushed ahead
somewhat, cried,

"Has a charm fallen on my eyes? Look, Ramses! Why, a second Egypt is
concealed between these cliffs!"

"That must be an estate of some priest who pays no taxes," replied the
prince, bitterly.

In the depth before their feet lay a rich valley in the form of a fork
the tines of which were hidden between cliffs. At the juncture of the
tines a number of servants' huts were visible, and the beautiful little
villa of the owner or manager. Palmtrees grew there, grapes, olives,
figs with aerial roots, cypresses, even young baobabs. In the centre
flowed a rivulet, and at the source of it, some hundreds of yards
higher up, small gardens were visible.

When they had gone down among grapevines covered with ripe clusters,
they heard a woman's voice which called, or rather sang in pensive
notes:

"Where art Thou gone from me, where art thou, hen of mine? Thou hast
fled, Thou art gone from me. I give thee drink and clean grain; what I
give is so good that slaves envy thee. Where art Thou gone, my hen wilt
Thou not answer me? Night will come down on thee, think of that; Thou
wilt not reach thy home, where all are at work for thee. Come; if Thou
come not, a falcon will fly from the desert and tear the heart out of
thee. If he come Thou wilt call in vain, as I now call in vain to thee.
Give answer, or I shall be angry and leave this place. If I leave Thou
'It go home on thy own feet."

The song came toward the two men. The songstress was a few yards from
them when Tutmosis thrust, his head from between the bushes, and said,

"Just look, Ramses, but that is a beautiful maiden!"

Instead of looking, the prince sprang into the path and stopped the
road before the songstress. She was really a beautiful maiden, with
Grecian features and a complexion like ivory.

From under the veil on her head peeped forth an immense mass of dark
hair, wound in a knot. She wore a white trailing robe which she held on
one side with her hand; under the transparent covering were maiden
breasts shaped like apples.

"Who art thou?" cried Ramses.

The threatening furrows vanished from his forehead and his eyes
flashed.

"O Jehovah! O Father!" cried she, frightened, halting motionless on the
path.

But she grew calm by degrees, and her velvety eyes resumed their
expression of mild sadness.

"Whence hast Thou come?" inquired she of Ramses, with a voice trembling
a little. "I see that Thou art a soldier, but it is not permitted
soldiers to come here."

"Why is it not permitted?"

"Because this is the land of a great lord named Sesofris."

"Ho! ho!" laughed Ramses.

"Laugh not, for Thou wilt grow pale soon. The lord Sesofris is
secretary to the lord Chaires, who carries his fan for the most worthy
nomarch of Memphis. My father has seen him and fallen on his face
before him."

"Ho! ho! ho!" repeated Ramses, laughing continually.

"Thy words are very insolent," said the maiden, frowning. "Were
kindness not looking from thy face, I should think thee a mercenary
from Greece or a bandit."

"He is not a bandit yet, but some day he may become the greatest bandit
this laud has ever suffered," said Tutmosis the exquisite, arranging
his wig,

"And Thou must be a dancer," answered the girl, grown courageous. "Oh!
I am even certain that I saw thee at the fair in Pi-Bailos, enchanting
serpents."

The two young men fell into perfect humor.

"But who art thou?" asked Ramses of the girl, taking her hand, which
she drew back.

"Be not so bold. I am Sarah, the daughter of Gideon, the manager of
this estate."

"A Jewess," said Ramses; and a shadow passed over his face.

"What harm in that? what harm in that?" cried Tutmosis.

"Dost think that Jewesses are less sweet than Egyptian girls? They are
only more modest and more difficult, which gives their love an uncommon
charm."

"So ye are pagans," said Sarah, with dignity. "Rest, if ye are tired,
pluck some grapes for yourselves, and go with God. Our servants are not
glad to see guests like you."

She wished to go, but Ramses detained her.

"Stop! Thou hast pleased me, and may not leave us in this way."

"The evil spirit has seized thee; no one in this valley would dare to
speak thus to me," said Sarah, now indignant.

"Yes; for, seest thou," interrupted Tutmosis, "this young man is an
officer of the priestly regiment of Ptah, and a secretary of the
secretary of a lord who carries his fan over the fan-carrier of the
nomarch of Habu."

"Surely he must be an officer," answered Sarah, looking with
thoughtfulness at Ramses. "Maybe he is a great lord himself?" added
she, putting her finger on her lips.

"Whoever I am, thy beauty surpasses my dignity," answered he, suddenly.
"But tell me, is it true that the Jews eat pork?"

Sarah looked at him offended; and Tutmosis added,

"How evident it is that Thou knowest not Jewesses! I tell thee that a
Jew would rather die than eat pork, which, for my part, I do not
consider as the worst."

"But do they eat cats?" insisted Ramses, pressing Sarah's hand and
looking into her eyes.

"And that is a fable, a vile fable!" exclaimed Tutmosis. "Thou mightst
have asked me about those things instead of talking nonsense. I have
had three Jewish mistresses."

"So far Thou hast told the truth, but now Thou art lying," called out
Sarah. "A Jewess would not be any man's mistress," added she, proudly.

"Even the mistress of the secretary of a lord who carries the fan for
the nomarch of Memphis?" asked Tutmosis, jeeringly.

"Even."

"Even the mistress of the lord who carries the fan?"

Sarah hesitated, but answered,

"Even."

"Then perhaps she would not become the mistress of the nomarch?"

The girl's hands dropped. With astonishment she looked in turn at the
young men; her lips quivered, and her eyes filled with tears.

"Who are ye?" inquired she, alarmed. "Ye have come down from the hills,
like travelers who wish bread and water, but ye speak to me as might
the greatest lords. Who are ye? Thy sword," said she, turning to
Ramses, "is set with emeralds, and on thy neck is a chain of such work
as even our lord, the great Sesofris, has not in his treasury."

"Better tell me if I please thee," insisted Ramses, pressing her hand
and looking into her eyes tenderly.

"Thou art beautiful, as beautiful as the angel Gabriel; but I fear
thee, for I know not who Thou art."

Then from beyond the hilltop was heard the sound of a trumpet.

"They are calling thee!" cried Tutmosis.

"And if I were as great a lord as thy Sesofris?" asked Ramses.

"Then maybe" answered Sarah.

"And if I carried the fan of the nomarch of Memphis?"

"Thou mayest be even as great as that."

Somewhere beyond the hill was heard the second trumpet.

"Come, Ramses!" insisted the frightened Tutmosis.

"But if I were heir to the throne, wouldst Thou come to me?" cried the
prince.

"O Jehovah!" exclaimed Sarah, dropping on her knees.

From various points trumpets summoned, now urgently.

"Let us run!" cried Tutmosis, in desperation. "Dost Thou not hear the
alarm in the camp?"

Ramses took the chain from his neck quickly and threw it on Sarah.

"Give this to thy father. I will buy thee from him. Be in health."

He kissed her lips passionately, and she embraced-his knees. He tore
away, ran a couple of paces, turned again, and again fondled her
beautiful face and dark hair with kisses, as if he heard not those
impatient calls to the army.

"In the name of his holiness the pharaoh, I summon thee, follow me!"
cried Tutmosis; and he seized the prince's hand.

They ran toward the trumpet-calls. Ramses tottered at moments like a
drunken man, and turned his head. At last they were climbing the
opposite hill.

"And this man," thought Tutmosis, "wants to battle with the
priesthood!"



CHAPTER IV

RAMSES and his comrade ran about a quarter of an hour along the rocky
ridge of the hill, drawing ever nearer to the trumpets, which sounded
more and more urgently. At last they reached a point where they took in
at a glance the whole region. Toward the left stretched the highway;
beyond that were seen clearly the city of Pi-Bailos, the regiments of
the heir drawn up behind it, and an immense cloud of dust which rose
above his opponent hastening forward from the east.

On the right yawned a broad ravine, along the middle of which the Greek
regiment was dragging military engines. Not far from the road the
ravine was lost in another and a broader one which began in the depth
of the desert.

At this point something uncommon was happening. The Greeks stood
unoccupied not far from the junction of the two ravines; but at the
juncture itself, and between the highway and the staff of Ramses,
marched out four dense lines of some other army, like four fences,
bristling with glittering darts.

In spite of the steep road the prince rushed down at full speed to his
division, to the place where the minister of war stood surrounded by
officers.

"What is happening?" called he, threateningly. "Why sound an alarm
instead of marching?"

"We are cut off," said Herhor.

"By whom?"

"Our division by three regiments of Nitager, who has marched out of the
desert."

"Then the enemy is there, near the highway?"

"Yes, the invincible Nitager himself."

It seemed in that moment that the heir to the throne had gone mad. His
lips were contorted, his eyes were starting out of their sockets. He
drew his sword, rushed to the Greeks, and cried,

"Follow me against those who bar the road to us."

"O heir, live forever!" cried Patrokles, who drew his sword also.
"Forward, descendants of Achilles!" said he, turning to his men. "We
will teach those Egyptian cowkeepers not to stop us!"

Trumpets sounded the attack. Four short but erect Greek columns rushed
forward, a cloud of dust rose, and a shout in honor of Ramses.

After a couple of minutes the Greeks found themselves in the presence
of the Egyptian regiments, and hesitated.

"Forward!" cried the heir, rushing on, sword in hand.

The Greeks lowered their spears. On the opposing side there was a
movement, a murmur flew along the ranks, and spears also were lowered.

"Who are ye, madmen?" asked a mighty voice.

"The heir to the throne!" shouted Patrokles.

A moment of silence.

"Open ranks!" commanded the same voice, mighty as before.

The regiments of the eastern army opened slowly, like heavy folding-
doors, and the Greek division passed between them.

Then a gray-haired warrior in golden helmet and armor approached Prince
Ramses and said with a low obeisance,

"Erpatr, [Heir] Thou hast conquered. Only a great warrior could free
himself from difficulty in that way."

"Thou art Nitager, the bravest of the brave!" cried the prince.

At that moment Herhor approached. He had heard the conversation, and
said abruptly,

"Had there been on your side such an awkward leader as the erpatr, how
could we have finished the maneuvers?"

"Let the young warrior alone!" answered Nitager. "Is it not enough for
thee that he has shown the iron claws, as was proper for a son of the
pharaoh?"

Tutmosis, noting the turn which the conversation had taken, asked
Nitager,

"Whence hast Thou come, that thy main forces are in front of our army?"

"I knew how incompetently the division was marching from Memphis, when
the heir was concentrating his regiments near Pi-Bailos, and for sport
I wished to capture you young lords. To my misfortune the heir was here
and spoiled my plans. Act that way always, Ramses, of course in
presence of real enemies."

"But if, as today, he meets a force three times superior?" inquired
Herhor.

"Daring keenness means more than strength," replied the old leader. "An
elephant is fifty times stronger than a man; still he yields to him, or
dies at his hands."

Herhor listened in silence.

The maneuvers were declared finished. Prince Ramses with the minister
and commanders went to the army near Pi-Bailos. There he greeted
Nitager's veterans, took farewell of his own regiments, commanded them
to march eastward, and wished success to them.

Then, surrounded by a great suite, he returned by the highway to
Memphis amid crowds from the land of Goshen, who with green garlands
and in holiday robes congratulated the conqueror.

When the highway turned toward the desert, the crowd became thinner,
and when they approached the place where the staff of the heir had
entered the ravine because of the scarabs, there was no one.

Ramses nodded to Tutmosis, and pointing to the naked hill, whispered,

"Thou wilt go to Sarah."

"I understand."

"Tell her father that I will give him land outside Memphis."

"I understand. Thou wilt have her to-morrow."

After this conversation Tutmosis withdrew to the troops marching behind
the suite, and vanished.

Almost opposite the ravine along which the army had passed in the
morning, some tens of steps from the road, stood a tamarind-tree which,
though old, was not large. At this point a halt was mad by the guard
which had preceded the suite.

"Shall we meet scarabs again?" asked Ramses, with a laugh.

"We shall see," answered Herhor.

They looked; on the slender tree a naked man was hanging.

"What does this mean?" asked the heir, with emotion.

Adjutants ran to the tree, and saw that the hanging man was that old
slave whose canal they had closed in the morning.

"He did right to hang himself!" cried Eunana among the officers. "Could
ye believe it, that wretch dared to seize the feet of his holiness the
minister!"

On hearing this, Ramses reined in his horse, dismounted, and walked up
to the ominous tree.

The slave was hanging with his head stretched forward; his mouth was
opened widely, his hands turned toward the spectators, and terror was
in his eyes. He looked like a man who had wished to say something, but
whose voice had failed him.

"The unfortunate!" sighed Ramses, with compassion.

On returning to the retinue he gave command to relate to him the
history of the man, and then he rode a long time in silence.

Before his eyes was the picture of the suicide, and in his heart was
the feeling that a great wrong had been done, such a wrong that even
he, the son and the heir of the pharaoh, might halt in face of it.

The heat was unendurable, the dust dried up the water and pierced the
eyes of man and beast. The division was detained for a short rest, and
meanwhile Nitager finished his conversation with the minister.

"My officers," said the old commander, "never look under their feet,
but always straight forward."

"That is the reason, perhaps, why no enemy has ever surprised me."

"Your worthiness reminds me, by these words, that I am to pay certain
debts," remarked Herhor; and he commanded the officers and soldiers who
were near by to assemble.

"And now," said the minister, "summon for me Eunana."

The officer covered with amulets was found as quickly as if he had been
waiting for this summons a long time. On his countenance was depicted
delight, which he restrained through humility, but with effort.

Herhor, seeing Eunana before him, began,

"By the will of his holiness, supreme command of the army comes into my
hands again with the ending of the maneuvers."

Those present bowed their heads.

"It is my duty to use this power first of all in meting out justice."

The officers looked at one another.

"Eunana," said the minister, "I know that Thou hast always been one of
the most diligent officers."

"Truth speaks through thy lips, worthy lord," replied Eunana. "As a
palm waits for dew, so do I for the commands of superiors. And when I
do not receive them, I am like an orphan in the desert when looking for
a pathway."

Nitager's scar-covered officers listened with astonishment to the ready
speech of Eunana, and thought, "He will be raised above others!"

"Eunana," said the minister, "Thou art not only diligent, but pious;
not only pious, but watchful as an ibis over water. The gods have
poured out on thee every virtue: they have given thee serpent cunning,
with the eye of a falcon."

"Pure truth flows from thy lips, worthiness," added Eunana. "Were it
not for my wonderful sight, I should not have seen the two scarabs."

"Yes, and Thou wouldst not have saved our camp from sacrilege. For this
deed, worthy of the most pious Egyptian, I give thee."

Here the minister took a gold ring from his finger.

"I give thee this ring with the name of the goddess Mut, whose favor
and prudence will accompany thee to the end of thy worldly wandering,
if Thou deserve it."

His worthiness delivered the ring to Eunana, and those present uttered
a great shout in honor of the pharaoh, and rattled their weapons.

As Herhor did not move, Eunana stood and looked him in the eyes, like a
faithful dog which having received one morsel from his master is
wagging his tail and waiting.

"And now," continued the minister, "confess, Eunana, why Thou didst not
tell whither the heir to the throne went when the army was marching
along the ravine with such difficulty. Thou didst an evil deed, for we
had to sound the alarm in the neighborhood of the enemy."

"The gods are my witnesses that I know nothing of the most worthy
prince," replied the astonished Eunana.

Herhor shook his head.

"It cannot be that a man gifted with such sight, a man who at some tens
of yards away sees sacred scarabs in the sand, should not see so great
a personage as the heir to the throne is."

"Indeed I did not see him!" explained Eunana, beating his breast.
"Moreover no one commanded me to watch Ramses."

"Did I not free thee from leading the vanguard? Did I assign to thee an
office?" asked the minister. "Thou wert entirely free, just like a man
who is called to important deeds. And didst Thou accomplish thy task?
For such an error in time of war Thou shouldst suffer death surely."

The ill-fated officer was pallid.

"But I have a paternal heart for thee, Eunana," said Herhor, "and,
remembering the great service which Thou hast rendered by discovering
the scarabs, I, not as a stern minister, but as a mild priest, appoint
to thee a very small punishment. Thou wilt receive fifty blows of a
stick on thy body."

"Worthiness!"

"Eunana, Thou hast known how to be fortunate, now be manful and receive
this slight remembrance as becomes an officer in the army of his
holiness."

Barely had the worthy Herhor finished when the officers oldest in rank
placed Eunana in a commodious position at the side of the highroad.
After that one of them sat on his neck, another on his feet, while a
third and a fourth counted out fifty blows of pliant reeds on his naked
body.

The unterrified warrior uttered no groan; on the contrary, he hummed a
soldier song, and at the end of the ceremony wished to rise. But his
stiffened legs refused obedience, so he fell face downward on the sand;
they had to take him to Memphis on a two-wheeled vehicle. While lying
on this cart and smiling at the soldiers, Eunana considered that the
wind does not change so quickly in Lower Egypt as fortune in the life
of an inferior officer.

When, after the brief halt, the retinue of the heir to the throne moved
on its farther journey, Herhor mounted his horse and riding at the side
of Nitager, spoke in an undertone about Asiatic nations and, above all,
about the awakening of Assyria.

Then two servants of the minister, the adjutant carrying his fan and
the secretary Pentuer, began a conversation also.

"What dost Thou think of Eunana's adventure?" asked the adjutant.

"And what thinkest Thou of the slave who hanged himself?"

"It seems to me that this was his best day, and the rope around his
neck the softest thing that has touched him in life. I think, too, that
Eunana from this time on will watch the heir to the throne very
closely."

"Thou art mistaken," answered Pentuer. "Eunana from this time on will
never see a scarab, even though it were as large as a bullock. As to
that slave, dost Thou not think that in every case it must have been
very evil for him very evil in this sacred land of Egypt?"

"Thou knowest not slaves, hence speakest thus."

"But who knows them better?" asked Pentuer, gloomily. "Have I not grown
up among them? Have I not seen my father watering land, clearing
canals, sowing, harvesting, and, above all, paying tribute? Oh, Thou
knowest not the lot of slaves in Egypt."

"But if I do not, I know the lot of the foreigner. My great-grandfather
or great-great-grandfather was famous among the Hyksos, but he remained
here, for he grew attached to this country. And what wilt Thou say? Not
only was his property taken from him, but the stain of my origin rests
on me at present. Thou thyself knowest what I bear frequently from
Egyptians by race, though I have a considerable position. How, then,
can I take pity on the Egyptian earth-worker, who, seeing my yellow
complexion, mutters frequently, 'Pagan! foreigner!' The earth-worker is
neither a pagan nor a foreigner."

"Only a slave," added Pentuer, "a slave whom they marry, divorce, beat,
sell, slay sometimes, and command always to work, with a promise
besides that in the world to come he will be a slave also."

"Thou art a strange man, though so wise!" said the adjutant, shrugging
his shoulders. "Dost Thou not see that each man of us occupies some
position, low, less low, or very low, in which he must labor? But dost
Thou suffer because Thou art not pharaoh, and thy tomb will not be a
pyramid? Thou dost not ponder at all over this, for Thou knowest it to
be the world's condition. Each creature does its own duty: the ox
ploughs, the ass bears the traveler, I cool his worthiness, Thou
rememberest and thinkest for him, while the earth-worker tills land and
pays tribute. What is it to us that some bull is born Apis, to whom all
render homage, and some man a pharaoh or a nomarch?"

"The ten years' toil of that man was destroyed," whispered Pentuer.

"And does not the minister destroy thy toil?" asked the adjutant. "Who
knows that Thou art the manager of the state, not the worthy Herhor?"

"Thou art mistaken. He manages really. He has power and will; I have
only knowledge. Moreover, they do not beat thee, nor me, like that
slave."

"But they have beaten Eunana, and they may beat us also. Hence there is
need to be brave and make use of the position assigned us; all the more
since, as is known to thee, our spirit, the immortal Ka, in proportion
as it is purified rises to a higher plane, so that after thousands or
millions of years, in company with spirits of pharaohs and slaves, in
company with gods even, it will be merged into the nameless and all-
mighty father of existence."

"Thou speakest like a priest," answered Pentuer, with bitterness. "I
ought rather to have this calm! But instead of it I have pain in my
soul, for I feel the wretchedness of millions."

"Who tells it to thee?"

"My eyes and my heart. My heart is like a valley between mountains
which never can be silent, when it hears a cry, but must answer with an
echo."

"I say to thee, Pentuer, that Thou thinkest too much over dangerous
subjects. It is impossible to walk safely along precipices of the
eastern mountains, for Thou mayst fall at any moment; or to wander
through the western desert, where hungry lions are prowling, and where
the raging simoom springs up unexpectedly."

Meanwhile the valiant Eunana moved on in the vehicle, which only added
to his pain. But to show that he was valiant he requested food and
drink; and when he had eaten a dry cake rubbed with garlic and had
drunk some beer from a thick-bellied pot, he begged the driver to take
a branch and drive the flies from his wounded body.

Thus lying on the bags and packs in that squeaking car, with his face
toward the earth, the unfortunate Eunana sang with a groaning voice the
grievous lot of the inferior officer,

"Why dost Thou say that the scribe's lot is worse than the officer's?
Come and see my blue stripes and swollen body; meanwhile I will tell
thee the tale of a downtrodden officer.

"I was a boy when they brought me to the barracks. For breakfast I had
blows of fists in the belly, till I fainted; for dinner fists in the
eyes, till my mouth gaped; and for supper I had a head covered with
wounds and almost split open.

"Goon! let me tell how I made the campaign to Syria. Food and drink I
had to carry on my back, I was bent down with weight as an ass is bent.
My neck became stiff, like an ass's neck, and the joints of my back
swelled. I drank rotten water, I was like a captive bird in the face of
the enemy.

"I returned to Egypt, but here I am like a tree into which a worm is
boring always. For any trifle they put me on the ground and beat me
till I am breaking. I am sick and must lie at full length; they carry
me in a car, meanwhile serving men steal my mantle and escape with it.

"So change thy mind, O scribe, about the happiness of officers."
[Authentic]

Thus sang the brave Eunana; and his tearful song has outlived the
Egyptian kingdom.



CHAPTER V

AS the suite of the heir approached Memphis, the sun was near its
setting, while from countless canals and the distant sea came a wind
filled with cool moisture. The road descended again to the fertile
region, where on fields and among bushes continuous ranks of people
were working, a rosy gleam was falling on the desert, and the mountain
summits were in a blaze of sunlight.

Ramses halted and turned his horse. His suite surrounded him quickly,
the higher officers approached with some leisure, while the marching
regiments drew nearer slowly and with even tread. In the purple rays of
the setting sun, the prince had the seeming of a divinity, the soldiers
gazed at him with affection and pride, the chiefs looked admiringly.

He raised his hand. All were silent.

"Worthy leaders," began he, "brave officers, obedient soldiers! Today
the gods have given me the pleasure of commanding you. Delight has
filled my heart. And since it is my will that leaders, officers, and
soldiers should share my happiness at all times, I assign one drachma
to each soldier of those who have gone to the east, and to those who
return with us from the eastern boundary; also one drachma each to the
Greek soldiers who today, under my command, opened a passage out of the
ravine; and one drachma to each man in the regiments of the worthy
Nitager who wished to cut off the way to us."

There was a shout in the army.

"Be well, our leader! Be well, successor of the pharaoh, may he live
eternally!" cried the soldiers; and the Greeks cried the loudest.

The prince continued,

"I assign five talents to be divided among the lower officers of my
army and that of the worthy Nitager. And finally I assign ten talents
to be divided between his worthiness the minister and the chief
leaders."

"I yield ray part for the benefit of the army," answered Herhor.

"Be well, O heir! be well, O minister!" cried the officers and the
soldiers.

The ruddy circle of the sun had touched the sands of the western
desert. Ramses took farewell of the army and galloped towards Memphis;
but his worthiness Herhor, amid joyous shouts, took a seat in his
litter and commanded also to go in advance of the marching divisions.

When they had gone so far that single voices were merged into one
immense murmur, like the sound of a cataract, the minister, bending
toward the secretary, asked of him,

"Dost Thou remember everything?"

"Yes, worthy lord."

"Thy memory is like granite on which we write history, and thy wisdom
like the Nile, which covers all the country and enriches it," said
Herhor. "Besides, the gods have granted thee the greatest of virtues,
wise obedience."

The secretary was silent.

"Hence Thou mayest estimate more accurately than others the acts and
reasons of the heir, may he live through eternity!"

The minister stopped awhile, and then added,

"It has not been his custom to speak so much. Tell me then, Pentuer,
and record this: Is it proper that the heir to the throne should
express his will before the army? Only a pharaoh may act thus, or a
traitor, or a frivolous stripling, who with the same heedlessness will
do hasty deeds or belch forth words of blasphemy."

The sun went down, and soon after a starry night appeared. Above the
countless canals of Lower Egypt a silvery mist began to thicken, a mist
which, borne to the desert by a gentle wind, freshened the wearied
warriors, and revived vegetation which had been dying through lack of
moisture.

"Or tell me, Pentuer," continued the minister, "and inquire: whence
will the heir get his twenty talents to keep the promise which he made
this day to the army with such improvidence? Besides, it seems to me,
and certainly to thee, a dangerous step for an heir to make presents to
the army, especially now, when his holiness has nothing with which to
pay Nitager's regiments returning from the Orient. I do not ask what
thy opinions are, for I know them, as Thou knowest my most secret
thoughts. I only ask thee to the end that Thou remember what Thou hast
seen, so as to tell it to the priests in council."

"Will they meet soon?" inquired Pentuer.

"There is no reason yet to summon them. I shall try first to calm this
wild young bull through the fatherly hand of his holiness. It would be
a pity to lose the boy, for he has much ability and the energy of a
southern whirlwind. But if the whirlwind, instead of blowing away
Egypt's enemies, blows down its wheat and tears up its palm-trees!"

The minister stopped conversation, and his retinue vanished in the dark
alley of trees which led to Memphis.

Meanwhile Ramses reached the palace of the pharaoh.

This edifice stood on an elevation in a park outside the city. Peculiar
trees grew there: baobabs from the south; pines, oaks, and cedars from
the north. Thanks to the art of gardeners, these trees lived some tens
of years and reached a considerable height.

The shady alley led to a gate which was as high as a house of three
stories. From each side of the gate rose a solid building like a tower
in the form of a truncated pyramid, forty yards in width with the
height of five stories. In the night they seemed like two immense tents
made of sandstone. These peculiar buildings had on the ground and the
upper stories square windows, and the roofs were flat. From the top of
one of these pyramids without apex, a watch looked at the country; from
the other the priest on duty observed the stars.

At the right and left of these towers, called pylons, extended walls,
or rather long structures of one story, with narrow windows and flat
roofs, on which sentries paced back and forth. On both sides of the
main gate were two sitting statues fifteen feet in height. In front of
these statues moved other sentries.

When the prince, with a number of horsemen, approached the palace, the
sentry knew him in spite of the darkness. Soon an official of the court
ran out of the pylon. He was clothed in a white skirt and dark mantle,
and wore a wig as large as a headdress.

"Is the palace closed already?" inquired the prince.

"Thou art speaking truth, worthy lord," said the official. "His
holiness is preparing the god for sleep."

"What will he do after that?"

"He will be pleased to receive the war minister, Herhor."

"Well, and later?"

"Later his holiness will look at the ballet in the great hall, then he
will bathe and recite evening prayers."

"Has he not commanded to receive me?" inquired Ramses.

"Tomorrow morning after the military council."

"What are the queens doing?"

"The first queen is praying in the chamber of her dead son, and thy
worthy mother is receiving the Phoenician ambassador, who has brought
her gifts from the women of Tyre."

"Did he bring maidens?"

"A number of them. Each has on her person treasures to the value of ten
talents."

"Who is moving about down there with torches?" asked the prince,
pointing to the lower park.

"They are taking thy brother, worthiness, from a tree where he has been
sitting since midday."

"Is he unwilling to come down?"

"He will come down now, for the first queen's jester has gone for him,
and has promised to take him to the inn where dissectors are drinking."

"And hast Thou heard anything of the maneuvers of today?"

"They say that the staff was cut off from the corps."

"And what more?"

The official hesitated.

"Tell what Thou hast heard."

"We heard, moreover, that because of this five hundred blows of a stick
were given to a certain officer at thy command, worthiness."

"It is all a lie!" said one of the adjutants of the heir in an
undertone.

"The soldiers, too, say among themselves that it must be a lie,"
returned the official, with growing confidence.

Ramses turned his horse and rode to the lower part of the park where
his small palace was situated. It had a ground and an upper story and
was built of wood. Its form was that of an immense hexagon with two
porticos, an upper and a lower one which surrounded the building and
rested on a multitude of pillars. Lamps were burning in the interior;
hence it was possible to see that the walls were formed of planks
perforated like lace, and that these walls were protected from the wind
by curtains of various colors. The roof of the building was flat,
surrounded by a balustrade; on this roof stood a number of tents.

Greeted heartily by half-naked servitors, some of whom ran out with
torches, while others prostrated themselves before him, the heir
entered his residence. On the ground floor he removed his dusty dress,
bathed in a stone basin, and put on a kind of great sheet which he
fastened at the neck and bound round his waist with a cord for a
girdle. On the first floor he ate a supper consisting of a wheaten
cake, dates, and a glass of light beer. Then he went to the terrace of
the building, and lying on a couch covered with a lion skin, commanded
the servants to withdraw and to bring up Tutmosis the moment he
appeared there.

About midnight a litter stopped before the residence, and out of it
stepped the adjutant. When he walked along the terrace heavily yawning
as he went, the prince sprang up from the couch and cried,

"Art Thou here? Well, what?"

"Then art Thou not sleeping yet?" replied Tutmosis. "O gods, after so
many days of torture! I think that I should sleep until sunrise."

"What of Sarah?"

"She will be here the day after to-morrow, or Thou wilt be with her in
the house beyond the river."

"Only after to-morrow!"

"Only? I beg thee, Ramses, to sleep. Thou hast taken too much bad blood
to thy heart, fire will strike to thy head."

"What about her father?"

"He is honorable and wise. They call him Gideon. When I told him that
Thou hadst the wish to take his daughter, he fell on the ground and
tore his hair. Of course I waited till this outburst of fatherly
suffering was over; I ate a little, drank some wine, and at last
proceeded to bargaining. The weeping Gideon swore first of all that he
would rather see his daughter dead than the mistress of any man. Then I
told him that near Memphis, on the Nile, he would receive land which
gives two talents of yearly income and pays no taxes. He was indignant.
Then I stated that he might receive another talent yearly in gold and
silver. He sighed and declared that his daughter had spent three years
at school in Pi-Bailos; I added another talent. Then Gideon, still
disconsolate, remembered that he would lose his very good position of
manager for the lord Sesofris. I told him that he need not lose that
place, and added ten milch cows from thy stables. His forehead cleared
somewhat; then he confessed to me, as a profound secret, that a certain
very great lord, Chaires, who bears the fan of the nomarch of Memphis,
was turning attention toward Sarah. I promised then to add a young
bull, a medium chain of gold, and a large bracelet. In this way thy
Sarah will cost thee land, two talents yearly in money, ten cows, a
young bull, a chain and a gold bracelet, immediately. These Thou wilt
give to her father, the honest Gideon; to her Thou wilt give whatever
pleases thee."

"What did Sarah say to this?"

"While we were bargaining she walked among the trees. When we had
finished the matter and settled it by drinking good Hebrew wine, she
told her father dost Thou know what? that if he had not given her to
thee, she would have gone up the cliff and thrown herself down head
foremost. Now Thou mayst sleep quietly, I think," ended Tutmosis.

"I doubt it," answered Ramses, leaning on the balustrade and looking
into the emptiest side of the park. "Dost Thou know that on the way
back we found a man hanging from a tree?"

"Oh! that is worse than the scarabs!"

"He hanged himself from despair because the warriors filled the canal
which he had been digging for ten years in the desert."

"Well, that man is sleeping now quietly. So it is time for us."

"That man was wronged," said the prince. "I must find his children,
ransom them, and rent a bit of laud to them."

"But Thou must do this with great secrecy," remarked Tutmosis, "or all
slaves will begin to hang themselves, and no Phoenician will lend us,
their lords, a copper uten."

"Jest not. Hadst Thou seen that man's face, sleep would be absent to-
night from thy eyes as it is from mine."

Meanwhile from below, among the bushes, was heard a voice, not over
powerful, but clear,

"May the One, the All-Powerful, bless thee, Ramses, He who has no name
in human speech, or statue in a temple."

Both young men bent forward in astonishment.

"Who art thou?" called out the prince.

"I am the injured people of Egypt," replied the voice, slowly and with
calmness.

Then all was silent. No motion, no rustle of branches betrayed human
presence in that place.

At command of Ramses servants rushed out with torches, the dogs were
unchained, and every bush around the house was searched. But they found
no one.

"Who could that have been, Tutmosis?" asked the prince, with emotion.
"Perhaps it was the ghost of that slave who hanged himself?"

"I have never heard ghosts talking, though I have been on guard at
temples and tombs more than once. I should think, rather, that he who
has just called to us is some friend of thine."

"Why should he hide?"

"But what harm is that to thee? Each one of us has tens, if not
hundreds, of invisible enemies. Thank the gods, then, that Thou hast
even one invisible friend."

"I shall not sleep to-night," whispered the excited prince.

"Be calm. Instead of running along the terrace listen to me and lie
down. Thou wilt see Sleep that is a deliberate divinity, and it does
not befit him to chase after those who run with the pace of a deer. If
Thou wilt lie down on a comfortable couch, Sleep, who loves comfort,
will sit near thee and cover thee with his great mantle, which covers
not only men's eyes, but their memories."

Thus speaking, Tutmosis placed Ramses on a couch; then he brought an
ivory pillow shaped like a crescent, and arranging the prince, placed
his head on this pillow.

Then he let down the canvas walls of the tent, laid himself on the
floor, and both were asleep in some minutes.

CHAPTER VI

THE entrance to the pharaoh's palace at Memphis was through a gate
placed between two lofty towers or pylons. The external walls of these
buildings were of gray sandstone covered from foundation to summit with
bas reliefs.

At the top of the gate rose the arms of the state, or its symbol: a
winged globe, from behind which appeared two serpents. Lower down sat a
series of gods to which the pharaohs were bringing offerings. On side
pillars images of the gods were cut out also in five rows, one above
the other, while below were hieroglyphic inscriptions.

On the walls of each pylon the chief place was occupied by a flat
sculpture of Ramses the Great, who held in one hand an uplifted axe and
grasped in the other, by the hair of the head, a crowd of people tied
in a bundle, like parsley. Above the king stood or sat two rows of
gods; still higher, a line of people with offerings; at the very summit
of the pylons were winged serpents intertwined with scarabs.

Those pylons with walls narrowing toward the top, the gate which
connected them, the flat sculptures in which order was mingled with
gloomy fantasy and piety with cruelty, produced a tremendous
impression. It seemed difficult to enter that place, impossible to go
out, and a burden to live there.

From the gate, before which stood troops and a throng of small
officials, those who entered came into a court surrounded by porticos
resting on pillars. That was an ornamental garden, in which were
cultivated aloes, palms, pomegranates, and cedars in pots, all placed
in rows and selected according to size. In the middle shot up a
fountain; the paths were sprinkled with colored sand.

Under the gallery sat or walked higher officials of the state, speaking
in low tones.

From the court, through a high door, the visitor passed to a hall of
twelve lofty columns. The hall was large, but as the columns also were
large, the hall seemed diminutive. It was lighted by small windows in
the walls and through a rectangular opening in the roof. Coolness and
shade prevailed there; the shade was almost a gloom, which did not,
however, prevent him who entered from seeing the yellow walls and
pillars, covered with lines of paintings. At the top leaves and flowers
were represented; lower down, the gods; still lower, people who carried
their statues or brought them offerings; and between these groups were
lines of hieroglyphs.

All this was painted in clear, almost glaring colors, green, red, and
blue.

In this hall, with its varied mosaic pavement, stood in silence, white
robed and barefoot, the priests, the highest dignitaries of State,
Herhor, the minister of war, also the leaders Nitager and Patrokles,
who had been summoned to the presence of the pharaoh.

His holiness Ramses XII, as usual before he held council, was placing
offerings before the gods in his chapel. This continued rather long.
Every moment some priest or official ran in from the more distant
chambers and communicated news touching the course of the service.

"The lord has broken the seal to the chapel He is washing the sacred
divinity Now he is putting it away Now he has closed the door."

On the faces of courtiers, notwithstanding their offices, concern and
humility were evident. But Herhor was indifferent, Patrokles impatient,
and Nitager now and then disturbed with his deep voice the solemn
silence. After every such impolite sound from the old leader, the
courtiers moved, like frightened sheep, and looked at one another, as
if saying,

"This rustic has been hunting barbarians all his life, we may pardon
him."

From remoter chambers were heard the sound of bells and the clatter of
weapons. Into the hall came in two ranks some tens of the guard in gilt
helmets, in breastplates, and with drawn swords, next two ranks of
priests, and at last appeared the pharaoh, carried in a litter,
surrounded by clouds of smoke and incense.

The ruler of Egypt, Ramses XII, was nearly sixty years old. His face
was withered. He wore a white mantle; on his head was a red and white
cap with a golden serpent; in his hand he held a long staff.

When the retinue showed itself, all present fell on their faces, except
Patrokles, who, as a barbarian, stopped at a low bow, while Nitager
knelt on one knee, but soon rose again.

The litter stopped before a baldachin under which was an ebony throne
on an elevation. The pharaoh descended slowly from the litter, looked
awhile at those present, and then, taking his seat on the throne, gazed
fixedly at the cornice on which was painted a rose-colored globe with
blue wings and green serpents.

On the right of the pharaoh stood the chief scribe, on the left a judge
with a staff; both wore immense wigs.

At a sign from the judge all sat down or knelt on the pavement, while
the scribe said to the pharaoh,

"Our lord and mighty ruler! Thy servant Nitager, the great guard on the
eastern boundary, has come to render thee homage, and has brought
tribute from conquered nations: a vase of green stone filled with gold,
three hundred oxen, a hundred horses, and the fragrant wood teshep."

"That is a mean tribute, my lord," said Nitager. "Real treasures we can
find only on the Euphrates, where splendid kings, though weak so far,
need much to be reminded of Ramses the Great."

"Answer my servant Nitager," said the pharaoh to the scribe, "that his
words will be taken under careful consideration. But now ask him what
he thinks of the military ability of my son and heir, whom he had the
honor of meeting near Pi-Bailos yesterday."

"Our lord, the master of nine nations, asks thee, Nitager" began the
scribe.

But the leader interrupted quickly, to the great dissatisfaction of the
courtiers,

"I hear myself what my lord says. Only the heir to the throne could be
his mouth when he turns to me; not thou, chief scribe."

The scribe looked with consternation at the daring leader, but the
pharaoh answered,

"My faithful Nitager speaks truth."

The minister of war bowed.

Now the judge announced to all present to the priests, the officials,
and the guards that they might go to the palace courtyard; and he
himself, bowing to the throne, was the first to go thither. In the hall
remained only the pharaoh, Herhor, and the two leaders.

"Incline thy ears, O sovereign, and listen to complaints," began
Nitager. "This morning the official priest, who came at thy command to
anoint my hair, told me that in going to thee I was to leave my sandals
in the entrance hall. Meanwhile it is known, not only in Upper and
Lower Egypt, but in the Hittite country, Libya, Phoenicia, and the land
of Punt, that twenty years ago Thou didst give me the right to stand
before thee in sandals."

"Thou speakest truth," said the pharaoh. "Various disorders have crept
into the court ceremonial."

"Only give command, O king, and my veterans will produce order
immediately," added Nitager.

At a sign given by the minister of war, a number of officials ran in:
one brought sandals and put them on Nitager's feet; others put down
costly stools for the minister and leaders.

When the three dignitaries were seated, Ramses XII said,

"Tell me, Nitager, dost Thou think that my son will be a leader? But
tell pure truth."

"By Amon of Thebes, by the glory of my ancestors in whom was blood
royal, I swear that thy heir, Prince Ramses, will be a great leader, if
the gods permit," replied Nitager. "He is a young man, a lad yet; still
he concentrated his regiments, eased their march, and provided for
them. He pleased me most of all by this, that he did not lose his head
when I cut off the road before him, but led his men to the attack. He
will be a leader, and will conquer the Assyrians, whom we must vanquish
today if they are not to be seen on the Nile by our grandchildren."

"What dost Thou say to that?" inquired the pharaoh of Herhor.

"As to the Assyrians, I think that the worthy Nitager is concerned
about them too early. We must strengthen ourselves well before we begin
a new war. As to the heir, Nitager says justly that the young man has
the qualities of a leader: he is as keen as a fox, and has the energy
of a lion. Still he made many blunders yesterday.

"Who among us has not made them?" put in Patrokles, silent thus far.

"The heir," continued the minister, "led the main corps wisely, but he
neglected his staff; through this neglect we marched so slowly and in
such disorder that Nitager was able to cut off the road before us."

"Perhaps Ramses counted on your dignity," said Nitager.

"In government and war we must count on no man: one unreckoned little
stone may overturn everything," said the minister.

"If thou, worthiness," answered Patrokles, "had not pushed the columns
from the road because of those scarabs."

"Thou, worthiness, art a foreigner and an unbeliever," retorted Herhor,
"hence this speech. But we Egyptians understand that when the people
and the soldiers cease to reverence the scarabs, their sons will cease
to fear the ureus (the serpent). From contempt of the gods is born
revolt against the pharaohs."

"But what are axes for?" asked Nitager. "Whoso wishes to keep a head on
his shoulders let him listen to the supreme commander."

"What then is your final opinion of the heir?" asked the pharaoh of
Herhor.

"Living image of the sun, child of the gods," replied the minister.
"Command to anoint Ramses, give him a grand chain and ten talents, but
do not appoint him yet to command the corps in Memphis. The prince is
too young for that office, too passionate and inexperienced. Can we
recognize him as the equal of Patrokles, who has trampled the
Ethiopians and the Libyans in twenty battles? Or can we place him at
the side of Nitager, whose name alone brings pallor to our northern and
eastern enemies?"

The pharaoh rested his head on his hand, meditated, and said,

"Depart with my favor and in peace. I will do what is indicated by
wisdom and justice."

The dignitaries bowed low, and Ramses XII, without waiting for his
suite, passed to remoter chambers.

When the two leaders found themselves alone in the entrance hall,
Nitager said to Patrokles,

"Here priests rule as in their own house. I see that. But what a leader
that Herhor is! He vanquished us before we spoke; he does not grant a
corps to the heir."

"He praised me so that I dared not utter a word," said Patrokles.

"He is far seeing, and does not tell all he thinks. In the wake of the
heir various young lords who go to war taking singers would have shoved
themselves into the corps, and they would occupy the highest places.
Naturally old officers would fall into idleness from anger, because
promotion had missed them; the exquisites would be idle for the sake of
amusement, and the corps would break up without even meeting an enemy.
Oh, Herhor is a sage!"

"May his wisdom not cost thee more than the inexperience of Ramses,"
whispered Patrokles.

Through a series of chambers filled with columns and adorned with
paintings, where at each door priests and palace officials gave low
obeisances before him, the pharaoh passed to his cabinet. That was a
lofty hall with alabaster walls on which in gold and bright colors were
depicted the most famous events in the reign of Ramses XII, therefore
homage given him by the inhabitants of Mesopotamia, the embassy from
the King of Buchten, and the triumphal journey of the god Khonsu
through the land of that potentate.

In this hall was the malachite statue of the bird-headed Horus, adorned
with gold and jewels. In front of the statue was an altar shaped as a
truncated pyramid, the king's armor, costly armchairs and stools, also
tables covered with trifles and small objects.

When the pharaoh appeared, one of the priests burnt incense before him,
and one of the officials announced Prince Ramses, who soon entered and
bowed low before his father. On the expressive face of the prince
feverish disquiet was evident.

"Erpatr, I rejoice," said the pharaoh, "that Thou hast returned in good
health from a difficult journey."

"Mayst Thou live through eternity, holiness, and thy affairs fill the
two worlds!" replied Ramses.

"My military advisers have just informed me of thy labor and prudence."

The heir's face quivered and changed. He fixed great eyes on the
pharaoh and listened.

"Thy deeds will not remain without reward. Thou wilt receive ten
talents, a great chain, and two Greek regiments with which Thou wilt
exercise."

Ramses was amazed, but after a while he asked with a stifled voice,

"But the corps in Memphis?"

"In a year we will repeat the maneuvers, and if Thou make no mistake in
leading the army Thou wilt get the corps."

"I know that Herhor did this!" cried the prince, hardly restraining his
anger.

He looked around, and added, "lean never be alone with thee, my father;
strangers are always between us."

The pharaoh moved his brows slightly, and his suite vanished, like a
crowd of shadows.

"What hast Thou to tell me?"

"Only one thing, father. Herhor is my enemy. He accused me to thee and
exposed me to this shame!"

In spite of his posture of obedience the prince gnawed his lips and
balled his fists.

"Herhor is thy friend and my faithful servant. It was his persuasion
that made thee heir to the throne. But I will not confide a corps to a
youthful leader who lets himself be cut off from his army."

"I joined it," answered the crushed heir; "but Herhor commanded to
march around two beetles."

"Dost Thou wish that a priest should make light of religion in the
presence of the army?"

"My father," whispered Ramses, with quivering voice, "to avoid spoiling
the journey of the beetles a canal was destroyed, and a man was
killed."

"That man raised his own hands on himself."

"But that was the fault of Herhor."

"In the regiments which them didst concentrate near Pi-Bailos thirty
men died from over-exertion, and several hundred are sick."

The prince dropped his head.

"Ramses," continued the pharaoh, "through thy lips is speaking not a
dignitary of the state who is thinking of the soundness of canals and
the lives of laborers, but an angry person. Anger does not accord with
justice any more than a falcon with a dove."

"Oh, my father," burst out the heir, "if anger carries me away, it is
because I feel the ill-will of the priests and of Herhor."

"But Thou art thyself the grandson of a high priest; the priests taught
thee. Thou hast learned more of their secrets than any other prince
ever has."

"I have learned their insatiable pride, and greed of power. And because
I will abridge it they are my enemies. Herhor is not willing to give me
even a corps, for he wishes to manage the whole army."

When he had thrown out these incautious words, the heir was frightened.
But the ruler raised his clear glance, and answered quietly,

"I manage the state and the army. From me flow all commands and
decisions. In this world I am the balance of Osiris, and I myself weigh
the services of my servants, be they the heir, a minister, or the
people. Imprudent would he be who should think that all intrigues are
not known to me."

"But, father, if Thou hadst seen with thy own eyes the course of the
maneuvers

"I might have seen a leader," interrupted the pharaoh, "who in the
decisive moment was chasing through the bushes after an Israelite
maiden. But I do not wish to observe such stupidity."

The prince fell at his father's feet, and whispered,

"Did Tutmosis speak to thee of that, lord?"

"Tutmosis is a child, just as Thou art. He piles up debts as chief of
staff in the corps of Memphis, and thinks in his heart that the eyes of
the pharaoh cannot reach to his deeds in the desert."



CHAPTER VII

Some days later Prince Ramses was summoned before the face of his most
worthy mother, Nikotris, who was the second wife of the pharaoh, but
now the greatest lady in Egypt. The gods were not mistaken when they
called her to be the mother of a pharaoh. She was a tall person, of
rather full habit, and in spite of forty years was still beautiful.
There was in her eyes, face, and whole form such majesty that even when
she went unattended, in the modest garb of a priestess, people bowed
their heads to her.

The worthy lady received Ramses in her cabinet, which was paved with
porcelain tiles. She sat on an inlaid armchair under a palm-tree. At
her feet, on a small stool, lay a little dog; on the other side knelt a
black slave woman with a fan. The pharaoh's wife wore a muslin robe
embroidered with gold, and on her wig a circlet in the form of a lotus,
ornamented with jewels.

When the prince had bowed low, the little dog sniffed him, then lay
down again; while the lady, nodding her head, made inquiry, "For what
reason, O Ramses, hast Thou desired an interview?"

"Two days ago, mother."

"I knew that Thou wert occupied. But today we both have time, and I can
listen."

"Thy speech, mother, acts on me as a strong wind of the desert, and I
have no longer courage to present my petition."

"Then surely it is a question of money."

Ramses dropped his head; he was confused.

"But dost Thou need much money?"

"Fifteen talents."

"O gods!" cried the lady, "but a couple of days ago ten talents were
paid thee from the treasury. Go, girl, into the garden; Thou must be
tired," said she to the black slave; and when alone with her son she
asked,

"But is thy Jewess so demanding?"

Ramses blushed, but raised his head.

"Thou knowest, mother, that she is not. But I promised a reward to the
army, and I am unable to pay it."

The queen looked at him with calm loftiness.

"How evil it is," said she, after a while, "when a son makes decisions
without consulting his mother. Just now I, remembering thy age, wished
to give thee a Phoenician slave maiden sent me by Tyre with ten talents
for dowry. But Thou hast preferred a Jewess."

"She pleased me. There is not such a beauty among thy serving maidens,
mother, nor even among the wives of his holiness."

"But she is a Jewess!"

"Be not prejudiced, mother, I beg of thee. It is untrue that Jews eat
pork and kill cats."

The worthy lady laughed.

"Thou art speaking like some boy from a primary school," answered she,
shrugging her shoulders, "and hast forgotten the words of Ramses the
Great: 'The yellow people are more numerous than we and they are
richer; let us act against them, lest they grow too powerful, but let
us act carefully.' I do not think, therefore, that a girl of that
people is the one to be first mistress of the heir to the throne."

"Can the words of Ramses the Great apply to the daughter of a poor
tenant?" asked the prince. "Besides, where are the Jews? Three
centuries ago they left Egypt, and today they form a little state,
ridiculous and priest-governed."

"I see," answered the worthy lady, frowning slightly, "that thy
mistress is not losing time. Be careful, Ramses; remember, that their
leader was Messu (Moses), that traitor priest whom we curse to this day
in our temples. Remember that the Jews bore away out of Egypt more
treasures than the labor of their few generations was worth to us; they
took with them not only gold, but the faith in one god, and our sacred
laws, which they give out today as their own faith and laws. Last of
all, know this," added she, with great emphasis, "that the daughters of
that people prefer death to the bed of a foreigner. And if they give
themselves even to hostile leaders, it is to use them for their policy
or to kill them."

"Believe me, mother, that it is our priests who spread all these
reports.  They will not admit to the footstool of the throne people of
another faith lest those people might serve the pharaoh in opposition
to their order."

The queen rose from the armchair, and crossing her arms on her breast,
gazed at her son with amazement.

"What they tell me is true then, Thou art an enemy of our priests.
Thou, their favorite pupil!"

"I must have the traces of their canes to this day on my shoulders,"
said Ramses.

"But thy grandfather and my father, Amenhotep, was a high priest, and
possessed extensive power in this country."

"Just because my grandfather was a pharaoh, and my father is a pharaoh
also, I cannot endure the rule of Herhor."

"He was brought to his position by thy grandfather, the holy
Amenhotep."

"And I will cast him down from it."

The mother shrugged her shoulders.

"And it is thou," answered she, with sadness, "who wishest to lead a
corps? But Thou art a spoiled girl, not a man and a leader."

"How is that?" interrupted the prince, restraining himself with
difficulty from an outburst.

"I cannot recognize my own son. I do not see in thee the future lord of
Egypt. The dynasty in thy person will be like a Nile boat without a
rudder. Thou wilt drive the priests from the court, but who will remain
with thee? Who will be thy eye in the Lower and the Upper Country, who
in foreign lands? But the pharaoh must see everything, whatever it be,
on which fall the divine rays of Osiris."

"The priests will be my servants, not my ministers."

"They are the most faithful servants. Thanks to their prayers thy
father reigns thirty-three years, and avoids war which might be fatal."

"To the priests?"

"To the pharaoh and the state!" interrupted the lady. "Knowest Thou
what takes place in our treasury, from which in one day Thou takest ten
talents and desirest fifteen more? Knowest Thou that were it not for
the liberality of the priests, who on behalf of the treasury even take
real jewels from the gods and put false ones in their places, the
property of the pharaoh would be now in the hands of Phoenicians?"

"One fortunate war would overflow our treasury as the increase of the
Nile does our fields."

"No. Thou, Ramses, art such a child yet that we may not even reckon thy
godless words as sinful. Occupy thyself, I beg, with thy Greek
regiments, get rid of the Jew girl as quickly as may be, and leave
politics to us."

"Why must I put away Sarah?"

"Shouldst Thou have a son from her, complications might rise in the
State, which is troubled enough as matters now are. Thou mayst be angry
with the priests," added she, "if Thou wilt not offend them in public.
They know that it is necessary to overlook much in an heir to the
throne, especially when he has such a stormy character. But time
pacifies everything to the glory of the dynasty and the profit of
Egypt."

The prince meditated; then he said suddenly,

"I cannot count, therefore, on money from the treasury."

"Thou canst not in any case. The grand secretary would have been forced
to stop payment today had I not given him fourteen talents sent from
Tyre to me."

"And what shall I do with the army?" asked the prince, rubbing his
forehead impatiently.

"Put away the Jewess, and beg the priests. Perhaps they will make a
loan to thee."

"Never! I prefer a loan from Phoenicians."

The lady shook her head.

"Thou art erpatr, act as may please thee. But I say that Thou must give
great security, and the Phoenicians, when once thy creditors, will not
let thee go. They surpass the Jews in treachery."

"A part of my income will suffice to cover such debts."

"We shall see. I wish sincerely to help thee, but I have not the
means," said the lady, sadly. "Do, then, as Thou art able, but remember
that the Phoenicians in our state are like rats in a granary; when one
pushes in through a crevice, others follow."

Ramses loitered in leave-taking.

"Hast Thou something more to tell me?" inquired the queen.

"I should like to ask My heart divines that thou, mother, hast some
plans regarding me. What are they?"

She stroked his face.

"Not now not yet. Thou art free today, like every young noble in the
country; then make use of thy freedom. But, Ramses, the time is coming
when Thou wilt have to take a wife whose children will be princes of
the blood royal and whose son will be thy heir. I am thinking of that
time."

"And what?"

"Nothing defined yet. In every case political wisdom suggests to me
that thy wife should be a priest's daughter."

"Perhaps Herhor's?" said the prince, with a laugh.

"What would there be blamable in that? Herhor will be high priest in
Thebes very soon, and his daughter is only fourteen years of age."

"And would she consent to occupy the place of the Jewess?" asked
Ramses, ironically.

"Thou shouldst try to have people forget thy present error."

"I kiss thy feet, mother, and I go," said the prince, seizing his own
head. "I hear so many marvelous things here that I begin to fear lest
the Nile may flow up toward the cataract, or the pyramids pass over to
the eastern desert."

"Blaspheme not, my child," whispered the lady, gazing with fear at
Ramses. "In this land most wonderful miracles are seen."

"Are not they this, that the walls of the palace listen to their
owners?" asked her son, with a bitter smile.

"Men have witnessed the death of pharaohs who had reigned a few months
only, and the fall of dynasties which had governed nine nations."

"Yes, for those pharaohs forgot the sword for the distaff," retorted
Ramses.

He bowed and went out.

In proportion as the sound of Ramses' steps grew less in the immense
antechamber, the face of the worthy lady changed; the place of majesty
was taken by pain and fear, while tears were glistening in her great
eyes.

She ran to the statue of the goddess, knelt, and sprinkling incense
from India on the coals, began to pray,

"O Isis, Isis, Isis! three times do I pronounce thy name. O Isis, who
givest birth to serpents, crocodiles, and ostriches, may thy name be
thrice praised. O Isis, who preservest grains of wheat from robber
whirlwinds, and the bodies of our fathers from the destructive toil of
time, Isis, take pity on my son and preserve him! Thrice be thy name
repeated and here and there and beyond, today and forever, and for the
ages of ages, as long as the temples of our gods shall gaze on
themselves in the waters of the Nile."

Thus praying and sobbing, the queen bowed down and touched the pavement
with her forehead. Above her at that moment a low whisper was audible,

"The voice of the just is heard always."

The worthy lady sprang up, and full of astonishment looked around. But
there was no one in the chamber. Only the painted flowers gazed at her
from the walls, and from above the altar the statue of the goddess full
of super-terrestrial calm.



CHAPTER VIII

The prince returned to his villa full of care, and summoned Tutmosis.

"Thou must," said Ramses, "teach me how to find money."

"Ha!" laughed the exquisite; "that is a kind of wisdom not taught in
the highest school of the priests, but wisdom in which I might be a
prophet."

"In those schools they explain that a man should not borrow money,"
said Ramses.

"If I did not fear that blasphemy might stain my lips, I should say
that some priests waste their time. They are wretched, though holy!
They eat no meat, they are satisfied with one wife, or avoid women
altogether, and they know not what it is to borrow. I am satisfied,
Ramses," continued the exquisite, "that Thou wilt know this kind of
wisdom through my counsels. Today Thou wilt learn what a source of
sensations lack of money is. A man in need of money has no appetite, he
springs up in sleep, he looks at women with astonishment, as if to ask,
'Why were they created?' Fire flashes in his face in the coolest
temple. In the middle of a desert shivers of cold pass through him
during the greatest heat. He looks like a madman; he does not hear what
people say to him. Very often he walks along with his wig awry and
forgets to sprinkle it with perfume. His only comfort is a pitcher of
strong wine, and that for a brief moment. Barely has the poor man's
thoughts come back when again he feels as though the earth were opening
under him.

"I see," continued the exquisite, "that at present Thou art passing
through despair from lack of money. But soon Thou wilt know other
feelings which will be as if a great sphinx were removed from thy
bosom. Then Thou wilt yield to the sweet condition of forgetting thy
previous trouble and present creditors, and then Ah, happy Ramses,
unusual surprises will await thee! For the term will pass, and thy
creditors will begin to visit thee under pretence of paying homage.
Thou wilt be like a deer hunted by dogs, or an Egyptian girl who, while
raising water from the river, sees the knotty back of a crocodile."

"All this seems very gladsome," interrupted Ramses, smiling; "but it
brings not one drachma."

"Never mind," continued Tutmosis. "I will go this moment to Dagon, the
Phoenician banker, and in the evening Thou wilt find peace, though he
may not have given thee money."

He hastened out, took his seat in a small litter, and surrounded by
servants vanished in the alleys of the park.

Before sunset Dagon, a Phoenician, the most noted banker in Memphis,
came to the house of Ramses. He was a man in the full bloom of life,
yellow, lean, but well built. He wore a blue tunic and over it a white
robe of thin texture. He had immense hair of his own, confined by a
gold circlet, and a great black beard, his own also. This rich growth
looked imposing in comparison with the wigs and false beards of
Egyptian exquisites.

The dwelling of the heir to the throne was swarming with youth of the
aristocracy. Some on the ground floor were bathing and anointing
themselves, others were playing chess and checkers on the first story,
others in company with dancing girls were drinking under tents on the
terrace. Ramses neither drank, played, nor talked with women; he walked
along one side of the terrace awaiting the Phoenician impatiently. When
he saw him emerge from an alley in a litter on two asses, he went to
the first story, where there was an unoccupied chamber.

After awhile Dagon appeared in the door. He knelt on the threshold and
exclaimed,

"I greet thee, new sun of Egypt! Mayst Thou live through eternity, and
may thy glory reach those distant shores which are visited by the ships
of Phoenicia."

At command of the prince, he rose and said with violent gesticulations,

"When the worthy Tutmosis descended before my mud hut my house is a mud
hut in comparison with thy palaces, erpatr such was the gleam from his
face that I cried at once to my wife, 'Tamara, the worthy Tutmosis has
come not from himself, but from one as much higher than he as the
Lebanon is higher than the sand of the seashore.' 'Whence dost Thou
know, my lord, that the worthy Tutmosis has not come for himself?'
'Because he could not come with money, since he has none, and he could
not come for money, because I have none.' At that moment we bowed down
both of us to the worthy Tutmosis. But when he told us that it was
thou, most worthy lord, who desirest fifteen talents from thy slave, I
asked my wife, 'Tamara, did my heart teach me badly?' 'Dagon, Thou art
so wise that Thou shouldst be an adviser to the heir,' replied my
Tamara."

Ramses was boiling with impatience, but he listened to the banker, he,
Ramses, who stormed in the presence of his own mother and the pharaoh.

"When we, lord, stopped and understood that Thou wert desirous of my
services, such delight entered my house that I ordered to give the
servants ten pitchers of beer, and my wife Tamara commanded me to buy
her new earrings. My joy was increased so that when coming hither I did
not let my driver beat the asses. And when my unworthy feet touched thy
floor, O prince, I took out a gold ring, greater than that which the
worthy Herhor gave Eunana, and presented it to thy slave who poured
water on my fingers. With permission, worthiness, whence came that
silver pitcher from which they poured the water?"

"Azarias, the son of Gaber, sold it to me for two talents."

"A Jew? Erpatr, dost Thou deal with Jews? But what will the gods say?"

"Azarias is a merchant, as Thou art," answered Ramses.

When Dagon heard this, he caught his head with both hands, he spat and
groaned,

"O Baal Tammuz! O Baaleth! O Astoreth! Azarias, the son of Gaber, a
Jew, to be such a merchant as I am. Oh, my legs, why did ye bring me
hither? Oh, my heart, why dost Thou suffer such pain and palpitation?
Most worthy prince," cried the Phoenician, "slay me, cut off my hand if
I counterfeit gold, but say not that a Jew can be a merchant. Sooner
will Tyre fall to the earth, sooner will sand occupy the site of Sidon
than a Jew be a merchant. They will milk their lean goats, or mix clay
with straw under blows of Egyptian sticks, but they will never sell
merchandise. Tfu! tfu! Vile nation of slaves! Thieves, robbers!"

Anger boiled up in the prince, it is unknown why, but he calmed himself
quickly. This seemed strange to Ramses himself, who up to that hour had
not thought self-restraint needed in his case in presence of any one.

"And then," said the heir on a sudden, "wilt thou, worthy Dagon, loan
me fifteen talents?"

"O Astoreth! Fifteen talents? That is such a great weight that I should
have to sit down to think of it properly."

"Sit down then."

"For a talent," said Dagon, sitting in an armchair comfortably, "a man
can have twelve gold chains, or sixty beautiful milch cows, or ten
slaves for labor, or one slave to play on the flute or paint, and maybe
even to cure. A talent is tremendous property."

The prince's eyes flashed,

"Then Thou hast not fifteen talents?"

The terrified Phoenician slipped suddenly from the chair to the floor.

"Who in the city," cried he, "has not money at thy command, O child of
the sun? It is true that I am a wretch whose gold, precious stones, and
whole property is not worth one glance of thine, O prince, but if I go
around among our merchants and say who sent me, I shall get fifteen
talents even from beneath the earth. Erpatr, if Thou shouldst stand
before a withered fig-tree and say 'Give money!' the fig-tree would pay
thee a ransom. But do not look at me in that way, O son of Horus, for I
feel a pain in the pit of my heart and my mind is growing blunted,"
finished the Phoenician, in tones of entreaty.

"Well, sit in the chair, sit in the chair," said the prince, laughing.

Dagon rose from the floor and disposed himself still more agreeably in
the armchair.

"For how long a time does the prince wish fifteen talents?"

"Certainly for a year."

"Let us say at once three years. Only his holiness might give back
fifteen talents in the course of a year, but not the youthful heir, who
must receive young pleasant nobles and beautiful women. Ah, those
women! Is it true, with thy permission, that Thou hast taken to thyself
Sarah the daughter of Gideon?"

"But what per cent dost Thou wish?" interrupted Ramses.

"A trifle, which thy sacred lips need not mention. For fifteen talents
the prince will give five talents yearly, and in the course of three
years I will take back all myself, so that thou, worthiness, wilt not
even know."

"Thou wilt give me today fifteen talents, and during three years take
back thirty?"

"Egyptian law permits percentage to equal the loan," answered Dagon,
confusedly.

"But is that not too much?"

"Too much?" cried out Dagon. "Every great lord has a great court, a
great property, and pays no per cent save a great one. I should be
ashamed to take less from the heir to the throne; if I did the prince
himself might command to beat me with sticks and to drive me out of his
presence."

"When wilt Thou bring the money?"

"Bring it? O gods, one man would not have strength to bring so much. I
will do better: I will make all payments for the prince, so that,
worthiness, Thou wilt not need to think of such a wretched matter."

"Then dost Thou know my debts?"

"I know them a little," answered Dagon, carelessly.

"The prince wishes to send six talents to the Eastern army; that will
be done by our bankers. Three talents to the worthy Nitager and three
to the worthy Patrokles; that will be done here immediately. Sarah and
her father I can pay through that mangy Azarias even better to pay them
thus, for they would cheat the prince in reckoning."

Ramses began to walk through the room impatiently.

"Then am I to give a note for thirty talents?"

"What note? why a note? what good would a note be to me? The prince
will rent me for three years lands in the provinces of Takens, Ses,
Neha-Meut, Neha-Pechu, in Sebt-Het, in Habu."

"Rent them?" said the prince. "That does not please me."

"Whence then am I to get back my money, my thirty talents?"

"Wait! I must ask the inspector of my granaries how much these
properties bring me in yearly."

"Why so much trouble, worthiness? What does the inspector know? He
knows nothing; as I am an honest Phoenician, he knows nothing. Each
year the harvest is different, and the income different also. I may
lose in this business, and the inspector would make no return to me."

"But seest thou, Dagon, it seems to me that those lands bring far more
than ten talents yearly."

"The prince is unwilling to trust me? Well, at command of the heir I
will drop out the land of Ses. The prince is not sure of my heart yet?
Well, I will yield Sebt-Het also. But what use for an inspector here?
Will he teach the prince wisdom? O Astoreth! I should lose sleep and
appetite if such an overseer, subject and slave, dared to correct my
gracious lord. Here is needed only a scribe who will write down that my
most worthy lord gives me as tenant for three years lands in such and
such a province. And sixteen witnesses will be needed to testify that
such an honor from the prince has come to me. But why should servants
know that their lord borrows money from Dagon?"

The wearied heir shrugged his shoulders.

"Tomorrow," said he, "Thou wilt bring the money, and bring a scribe and
witnesses. I do not wish to think of it."

"Oh, what wise words!" cried the Phoenician. "Mayst Thou live,
worthiest lord, through eternity!"



CHAPTER IX

ON the right bank of the Nile, on the edge of the northern suburb of
Memphis, was that laud which the heir to 'the throne had given as place
of residence to Sarah the daughter of Gideon.

That was a possession thirty-five acres in area, forming a quadrangle
which was seen from the house-top as something on the palm of the hand.
The land was on a hill and was divided into four elevations. The two
lowest and widest, which the Nile always flooded, were intended for
grain and for vegetables. The third, which at times was untouched by
the overflow, produced palms, figs, and other fruit-trees. On the
fourth, the highest, was a garden planted with olives, grapes, nuts,
and sweet chestnuts; in the middle garden stood the dwelling.

This dwelling was of wood, one story, as usual, with a flat roof on
which was a tent made of canvas. On the ground dwelt the prince's black
slave; above Sarah with her relative and serving-woman Tafet. The place
was surrounded by a wall of partially burnt brick, beyond which at a
certain distance were houses for cattle, workmen, and overseers.

Sarah's chambers were not large, but they were elegant. On the floor
were divans, at the doors and windows were curtains with stripes of
various colors. There were armchairs and a carved bed, inlaid boxes for
clothing, three-legged and one-legged tables on which were pots with
flowers, a slender pitcher for wine, boxes and bottles of perfume,
golden and silver cups and goblets, porcelain vases and dishes, bronze
candlesticks. Even the smallest furniture or vessel was ornamented with
carving or with a colored drawing; every piece of clothing with lace or
bordering.

Sarah had dwelt ten days in this retreat, hiding herself before people
from fear and shame, so that almost no one of the servants had seen
her. In the curtained chamber she sewed, wove linen on a small loom, or
twined garlands of living flowers for Ramses. Sometimes she went out on
the terrace, pushed apart the sides of the tent with care, and looked
at the Nile covered with boats in which oarsmen were singing songs
joyfully. On raising her eyes she looked with fear at the gray pylons
of the pharaoh's palace, which towered silent and gloomy above the
other bank of the river. Then she ran again to her work and called
Tafet.

"Sit here, mother," said she; "what art Thou doing down there?"

"The gardener has brought fruit, and they have sent bread, wine, and
game from the city; I must take them."

"Sit here and talk, for fear seizes me."

"Thou art a foolish child," said Tafet, smiling. "Fear looked at me too
the first day from every corner; but when I went out beyond the wall,
there was no more of it. Whom have I to fear here? All fall on their
knees before me. Before thee they would stand on their heads even! Go
to the garden; it is as beautiful as paradise. Look out at the field,
see the wheat harvest; sit down in the carved boat the owner of which
is withering from anxiety to see thee and take thee out of the river."

"I am afraid."

"Of what?"

"Do I know? While I am sewing, I think that T am in our valley and that
my father will come right away; but when the wind pushes the curtain
aside from the window and I look on this great country it seems to me,
knowest what? that some mighty vulture has caught and borne me to his
nest on a mountain, whence I have no power to save myself."

"Ah, Thou thou! If Thou hadst seen what a bathtub the prince sent this
morning, a bronze one; and what a tripod for the fire, what pots and
spits! And if Thou knew that today I have put two hens to set, and
before long we shall have little chicks here."

Sarah was more daring after sunset, when no one could see her. She went
out on the roof and looked at the river. And when from afar a boat
appeared, flaming with torches, which formed fiery and bloody lines
along the dark water, she pressed with both hands her poor heart, which
quivered like a bird caught that instant. Ramses was coming, and she
could not tell what had seized her, delight because that beautiful
youth was approaching whom she had seen in the valley, or dread because
she would see again a great lord and ruler who made her timid.

One Sabbath evening her father came for the first time since she had
settled in that villa. Sarah rushed to him with weeping; she washed his
feet herself, poured perfumes on his head, and covered him with kisses.
Gideon was an old man of stern features. He wore a long robe reaching
his feet and edged at the bottom with colored embroidery; over this he
wore a yellow sleeveless kaftan. A kind of cape covered his breast and
shoulders. On his head was a smallish cap, growing narrow toward the
top.

"Thou art here! Thou art here!" exclaimed Sarah; and she kissed his
head again.

"I am astonished myself at being here," said Gideon, sadly. "I stole to
the garden like a criminal; I thought, along the whole way from
Memphis, that all the Egyptians were pointing me out with their fingers
and that each Jew was spitting."

"But Thou didst give me thyself to the prince, father."

"I did, for what could I do? Of course it only seems to me that they
point and spit. Of Egyptians, whoever knows me bows the lower the
higher he is himself. Since Thou art here our lord Sesoforis has said
that he must enlarge my house; Chaires gave me a jar of the best wine,
and our most worthy nomarch himself has sent a trusty servant to ask if
Thou art well, and if I will not become his manager."

"But the Jews?" inquired Sarah.

"What of the Jews! They know that I did not yield of my own will. Every
one of them would wish to be constrained in like manner. Let the Lord
God judge us all. Better tell how Thou art feeling."

"In Abraham's bosom she will not have more comfort," said Tafet. "Every
day they bring us fruit, wine, bread, meat, and whatever the soul
wishes. And such baths as we have, all bronze, and such kitchen
utensils!"

"Three days ago," interrupted Sarah, "the Phoenician Dagon was here. I
did not wish to see him, but he insisted."

"He gave me a gold ring," added Tafet.

"He told me," continued Sarah, "that he was a tenant of my lord; he
gave me two anklets, pearl earrings, and a box of perfumes from the
land of Punt."

"Why did he give them to thee?" asked her father.

"For nothing. He simply begged that I would think well of him, and tell
my lord sometimes that Dagon was his most faithful servant."

"Very soon Thou wilt have a whole box of earrings and bracelets," said
Gideon, smiling. But after a moment he added: "Gather up a great
property quickly and let us flee back to our own land, for here there
is misery at all times, misery when we are in trouble, and still more
of it when we are prosperous."

"And what would my lord say?" asked Sarah, with sadness.

Her father shook his head.

"Before a year passes thy lord will cast thee aside, and others will
help him. Wert Thou an Egyptian, he would take thee to his palace; but
a Jewess."

"He will cast aside?" said Sarah, sighing.

"Why torment one's self with days to come, which are in the hand of
God? I am here to pass the Sabbath with thee."

"I have splendid fish, meat, cakes, and wine of the Jews," put in
Tafet, quickly. "I have bought also, in Memphis, a seven-branched
candlestick and wax tapers. We shall have a better supper than has Lord
Chaires."

Gideon went out on the flat roof with his daughter.

"Tafet tells me," said he, when they were alone, "that Thou art always
in the house. Why is this? Thou shouldst look at least on the garden."

"I am afraid," whispered Sarah.

"Why be afraid of thy own garden? Here Thou art mistress, a great
lady."

"Once I went out in the daytime. People of some sort stared at me, and
said to one another, 'Look! that is the heir's Jewess; she delays the
overflow.'."

"They are fools!" interrupted Gideon. "Is this the first time that the
Nile is late in its overflow? But go out in the evening."

Sarah shook her head with greater vigor.

"I do not wish, I do not wish. Another time I went out in the evening.
All at once two women pushed out from a side path. I was frightened and
wished to flee, when one of them, the younger and smaller, seized my
hands, saying, 'Do not flee, we must look at thee;' the second, the
elder and taller, stood some steps in front and looked me in the eyes
directly. Ah, father, I thought that I should turn into stone. What a
look, what a woman!"

"Who could she be?" asked Gideon.

"The elder woman looked like a priestess."

"And did she say anything?"

"Nothing. But when going and they were hidden behind trees, I heard
surely the voice of the elder say these words: 'Indeed she is
beautiful!"

Gideon fell to thinking.

"Maybe they were great ladies from the court."

The sun went down, and on both banks of the Nile dense crowds of people
collected waiting impatiently for the signal of the overflow, which in
fact was belated. For two days the wind had been blowing from the sea
and the river was green; the sun had passed the star Sothis already,
but in the well of the priest in Memphis the water had not risen even
the breadth of a finger. The people were alarmed, all the more since in
Upper Egypt, according to signals, the overflow proceeded with regular
increase and even promised to be perfect.

"What detains it at Memphis then?" asked the anxious earth-tillers
waiting for the signal in disquiet.

When the stars had appeared in the sky, Tafet spread a white cloth on
the table, placed on it the candlestick with seven lighted torches,
pushed up three armchairs, and announced that the Sabbath supper would
be served immediately.

Gideon covered his head then, and raising both hands above the table,
said with his eyes looking heavenward,

"God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, Thou who didst lead our people out
of Egypt, who didst give a country to the slave and exile, who didst
make with the sons of Judah an eternal covenant, O Jehovah, O Adonai,
permit us to enjoy without sin the fruits of the enemies' country.
Bring us out of sorrow and fear in which we are buried, and restore us
to the banks of the Jordan, which we left for Thy glory."

At the moment a voice was heard from beyond the wall,

"His worthiness Tutmosis, the most faithful servant of his holiness and
of his son Prince Ramses!"

"May he live through eternity!" called a number of voices from the
garden.

"His worthiness," said a single voice again, "sends greeting to the
most beautiful rose of Lebanon."

When the voice ceased, the sound of harps and flutes was heard.

"That is music!" exclaimed Tafet, clapping her hands. "We shall pass
the Sabbath with music."

Sarah and her father, frightened at first, began to laugh, and sat down
again at the table.

"Let them play," said Gideon; "their music is not bad for the
appetite."

The flute and harp played, then a tenor voice sang,

"Thou art more beautiful than all the maidens who look at themselves in
the Nile. Thy hair is blacker than the feathers of a raven, thy eyes
have a milder glance than the eyes of a deer which is yearning for its
fawn. Thy stature is the stature of a palm, and the lotus envies thee
thy charm. Thy bosoms are like grape clusters with the juice of which
kings delight themselves."

Again the flute and harp were heard, and next a song,

"Come and repose in the garden. The servants which belong to thee will
bring various vessels and beer of all kinds. Come, let us celebrate
this night and the dawn which will follow it. In my shadow, in the
shadow of the fig, giving sweet fruit, thy lover will rest at thy right
hand; and Thou wilt give him to drink and consent to all his wishes."

Next came the flutes and harps, and after them a new song,

"I am of a silent disposition, I never tell what I see, I spoil not the
sweetness of my fruits with vain tattling." [Authentic.]



CHAPTER X

THE song ceased, drowned by an uproar and by a noise as of many people
running.

"Unbelievers! Enemies of Egypt!" cried some one. "Ye are singing when
we are sunk in suffering, and ye are praising the Jewess who stops the
flow of the Nile with her witchcraft."

"Woe to you!" cried another. "Ye are trampling the land of Prince
Ramses. Death will fall on you and your children."

"We will go, but let the Jewess come out so that we may tell our wrongs
to her."

"Let us flee!" screamed Tafet.

"Whither?" inquired Gideon.

"Never!" said Sarah, on whose mild face appeared a flush of anger. "Do
I not belong to the heir, before whose face those people all prostrate
themselves?"

And before her father and the old woman had regained their senses, she,
all in white, had run out on the roof and called to the throng beyond
the wall,

"Here I am! What do ye want of me?"

The uproar was stilled for a moment, but again threatening voices were
raised,

"Be accursed, Thou strange woman whose sin stops the Nile in its
overflow!"

A number of stones hurled at random whistled through the air; one of
them struck Sarah's forehead.

"Father!" cried she, seizing her head.

Gideon caught her in his arms and bore her from the terrace. In the
night were visible people, in white caps and skirts, who climbed over
the wall below.

Tafet screamed in a heaven-piercing voice, the black slave seized an
axe, took his place in the doorway, and declared that he would split
the head of any man daring to enter.

"Stone that Nubian dog!" cried men from the wall to the crowd of
people.

But the people became silent all at once, for from the depth of the
garden came a man with shaven head; from this man's shoulders depended
a panther skin.

"A prophet! A holy father!" murmured some in the crowd. Those sitting
on the wall began now to spring down from it.

"People of Egypt," said the priest, calmly, "with what right do ye
raise hands on the property of the erpatr?"

"The unclean Jewess dwells here, who stops the rise of the Nile. Woe to
us! misery and famine are hanging over Lower Egypt."

"People of weak mind or of evil faith," said the priest, "where have ye
heard that one woman could stop the will of the gods? Every year in the
month Thoth the Nile begins to increase and rises till the mouth peak.
Has it ever happened otherwise, though our land has been full at all
times of strangers, sometimes foreign priests and princes, who groaning
in captivity and grievous labor might utter the most dreadful curses
through sorrow and anger? They would have brought on our heads all
kinds of misfortune, and more than one of them would have given their
lives if only the sun would not rise over Egypt in the morning, or if
the Nile would not rise when the year began. And what came of their
prayers? Either they were not heard in the heavens, or foreign gods had
no power in presence of the gods of Egypt. How then is a woman who
lives pleasantly among us to cause a misfortune which is beyond the
power of our mightiest enemies?"

"The holy father speaks truth. Wise are the words of the prophet!" said
people among the multitude.

"But Messu (Moses), the Jewish leader, brought darkness and death into
Egypt!" said one voice.

"Let the man who said that step forth," cried the priest. "I challenge
him, let him come forward, unless he is an enemy of the Egyptian
people."

The crowd murmured like a wind from afar blowing between trees, but no
man came forward,

"I speak truth," continued the priest; "evil men are moving among you
like hyenas in a sheepfold. They have no pity on your misery, they
urged you to destroy the house of the heir and to rebel against the
pharaoh. If their vile plan had succeeded and blood had begun to flow
from your bosoms, they would have hidden before spears as they hide now
before my challenge."

"Listen to the prophet! Praise to thee, man of God!" cried the people,
inclining their foreheads.

The most pious fell to the earth.

"Hear me, Egyptian people. In return for your faith in the words of a
priest, for your obedience to the pharaoh and the heir, for the honor
which ye give to a servant of the god, a favor will be shown you. Go to
your houses in peace, and even before ye have left this hill the Nile
will be rising."

"Oh, may it rise!"

"Go! The greater your faith and piety the more quickly will ye see the
sign of favor."

"Let us go! Let us go! Be blessed, O prophet, Thou son of prophets!"

They began to separate, kissing the robe of the priest. With that some
one shouted,

"The miracle, the miracle is accomplished."

On the tower in Memphis a light flamed up.

"The Nile is rising! See, more and more lights! Indeed a mighty saint
spoke to us. May he live through eternity!"

They turned toward the priest, but he had vanished among shadows.

The throng raging a little while earlier, amazed and filled now with
gratitude, forgot both its anger and the wonder-working priest. It was
mastered by a wild delight; men rushed to the bank of the river, on
which many lights were burning and where a great hymn was rising from
the assembled people,

"Be greeted, Nile, sacred river, which appearest on this country! Thou
comest in peace, to give life to Egypt. O hidden deity who scatterest
darkness, who moistenest the fields, to bring food to dumb animals, O
Thou the precious one, descending from heaven to give drink to the
earth, O friend of bread, Thou who gladdenest our cottages! Thou art
the master of fishes; when Thou art in our fields no bird dares touch
the harvest. Thou art the creator of grain and the parent of barley;
Thou givest rest to the hands of millions of the unfortunate and for
ages Thou securest the sanctuary." [Authentic]

At this time the illuminated boat of Ramses sailed from the shore
opposite amid songs and outcries. Those very persons who half an hour
earlier wished to burst into his villa were falling now on their faces
before him, or hurling themselves into the water to kiss the oars and
the sides of the boat which was bearing the son of their ruler.

Gladsome, surrounded by torches, Ramses, in company with Tutmosis,
approached Sarah's dwelling. At sight of him Gideon said to Tafet,

"Great is my alarm for my daughter, but still greater my wish to avoid
Prince Ramses."

He sprang over the wall, and amid darkness through gardens and fields
he held on in the direction of Memphis.

"Be greeted, O beauteous Sarah!" cried Tutmosis in the courtyard. "I
hope that Thou wilt receive us well for the music which I sent to
thee."

Sarah appeared, with bandaged head on the threshold, leaning on the
black slave and her female attendant.

"What is the meaning of this?" cried the astonished Ramses.

"Terrible things!" called out Tafet. "Unbelievers attacked thy house;
one hurled a stone and struck Sarah."

"What unbelievers?"

"But those the Egyptians!" explained Tafet.

The prince cast a contemptuous glance at her, but rage mastered him
straightway.

"Who struck Sarah? Who threw the stone?" shouted he, seizing the arm of
the black man.

"Those from beyond the river," answered the slave.

"Hei, watchman!" cried the prince, foaming at the mouth, "arm all the
men in this place for me and follow that rabble!"

The black slave seized his axe again, the overseers fell to summoning
workmen from the buildings, some soldiers of the prince's suite grasped
their sword-hilts mechanically.

"By the mercy of Jehovah, what art Thou doing?" whispered Sarah, as she
hung on the neck of Ramses.

"I wish to avenge thee," answered he; "whoso strikes at that which is
mine strikes at me."

Tutmosis grew pale, and shook his head.

"Hear me, lord," said he; "wilt Thou discover in the night and in a
multitude the men who committed the crime?"

"All one to me. The rabble did it, and the rabble must give answer."

"No judge will say that," reflected Tutmosis. "But Thou art to be the
highest judge."

The prince became thoughtful. Tutmosis continued,

"Stop! what would the pharaoh our lord say to-morrow? And what delight
would reign among our foes in the east and the west, if they heard that
the heir to the throne, almost at the royal palace, was attacked in the
night by his own people?"

"Oh, if my father would give me even half the army, our enemies on all
sides of the world would be silent forever!" said the prince, stamping
on the pavement.

"Finally, remember that man who hanged himself; Thou wert sorry when an
innocent man lost his life. But today is it possible that Thou art
willing thyself to slay innocent people?"

"Enough!" interrupted Ramses, in a deep voice. "My anger is like a
water-jar. Woe to him on whom it falls! Let us enter."

The frightened Tutmosis drew back. The prince took Sarah by the hand
and went to the terrace. He seated her near the table on which was the
unfinished supper, and approaching the light drew the bandage from her
forehead.

"Ah!" cried he, "this is not even a wound, it is only a blue spot."

He looked at Sarah attentively.

"I never-thought," said he, "that Thou wouldst have a blue spot. This
changed thy face considerably."

"Then I please thee no longer?" whispered Sarah, raising on him great
eyes full of fear.

"Oh, no! this will pass quickly."

Then he called Tutmosis and the black, and commanded to tell him what
had happened that evening.

"He defended us," said Sarah. "He stood, with an axe, in the doorway."

"Didst Thou do that?" asked the prince, looking quickly into the eyes
of the Nubian.

"Was I to let strange people break into thy house, lord?"

Ramses patted him on the curly head.

"Thou hast acted," said he, "like a brave man. I give thee freedom.
Tomorrow Thou wilt receive a reward and mayst return to thy own
people."

The black tottered and rubbed his eyes, the whites of which were
shining. Suddenly he dropped on his knees, and cried as he struck the
floor with his forehead,

"Do not put me away, lord."

"Well," replied Ramses, "remain with me, but as a free warrior. I need
just such men," said he, turning to Tutmosis. "He cannot talk like the
overseer of the house of books, but he is ready for battle."

And again he inquired for details of the attack, when the Nubian told
how a priest had approached, and when he related his miracles the
prince seized his own head, exclaiming,

"I am the most hapless man in all Egypt! Very soon I shall find a
priest in my bed even. Whence did he come? Who was he?"

The black servitor could not explain this, but he said that the
priest's action toward the prince and toward Sarah was very friendly;
that the attack was directed not by Egyptians, but by people who, the
priest said, were enemies of Egypt, and whom he challenged to step
forward, but they would not.

"Wonders! wonders!" said Ramses, meditating, and throwing himself on a
couch. "My black slave is a valiant warrior and a man full of judgment.
A priest defends a Jewess, because she is mine. What a strange priest
he is! The Egyptian people who kneel down before the pharaoh's dogs
attack the house of the erpatr under direction of unknown enemies of
Egypt. I myself must look into this."



CHAPTER XI

The month Thoth has ended and the month Paofi (the second half of July)
has begun. The water of the Nile, from being greenish and then white,
has become ruddy and is rising continually. The royal indicator in
Memphis is filled to the height of two men almost, and the Nile rises
two hands daily. The lowest land is inundated; from higher ground
people are removing hastily flax, grapes, and cotton of a certain
species. Over places which were dry in the early morning, waves plash
as evening approaches. A mighty, unseen whirlwind seems to blow in the
depth of the Nile. This wind ploughs up broad spaces on the river,
fills the furrows with foam, then smoothes for a moment the surface,
and after a time twists it into deep eddies. Again the hidden wind
ploughs, again it smoothes out, whirls, pushes forward new hills of
water, new rows of foam, and raises the rustling river, wins without
ceasing new platforms of land. Sometimes the water, after reaching a
certain boundary, leaps across in a twinkle, pours into a low place,
and makes a shining pond where a moment earlier withered grass was
breaking up into dust heaps.

Though the rise of the river has reached barely one third of its
height, the whole region near the banks is under water. Every hour some
little height takes on the semblance of an island, divided from others
by a narrow channel, which widens gradually and cuts off the house more
and more from its neighbors. Very often he who walked out to work comes
home in a boat from his labor.

Boats and rafts appear more and more frequently on the river. From some
of them men are catching fish in nets; on others they bring the harvest
to granaries, or bellowing cattle to their stables. With other boats
visits are made to acquaintances to inform them amid shouts and
laughter that the river is rising. Sometimes boats gather in one place,
like a flock of daws, and then shoot apart on all sides before a broad
raft bearing down from Upper Egypt immense blocks of stone hewn out in
quarries near the river.

In the air, as far as the ear can hear, extend the roar of the rising
water, the cries of frightened birds, and the gladsome songs of people.
The Nile is rising, there will be bread in abundance.

During a whole month investigation continued in the affair of the
attack on the house of Ramses. Each morning a boat with officials and
warriors came to some small estate. People were snatched from their
labor, overwhelmed with treacherous questions, beaten with sticks.
Toward evening two boats returned to Memphis: one brought officials,
the other brought prisoners.

In this way some hundreds of men were caught, of whom one half knew
nothing, the other half were threatened by imprisonment or toil for a
number of years in the quarries. But nothing was learned of those who
led the attack, or of that priest who had persuaded the people to leave
the place. Prince Ramses had qualities which were uncommonly
contradictory. He was as impetuous as a lion and as stubborn as a
bullock, but he had a keen understanding and a deep sense of justice.

Seeing that this investigation by officials gave no result whatever, he
sailed on a certain day to Memphis and commanded to open the prison.

The prison was built on an eminence surrounded by a lofty wall, and was
composed of a great number of stone, brick, and wooden buildings. These
buildings for the main part were merely the dwellings of overseers.
Prisoners were placed in subterranean dens hewn out in a cliff of
limestone.

When Prince Ramses passed the gate, he saw a crowd of women washing and
feeding some prisoner. This naked man, who resembled a skeleton, was
sitting on the ground, having his hands and feet in four openings of a
square plank which took the place of fetters.

"Has this man suffered long in this way?" asked Ramses.

"Two months," said the overseer.

"And must he sit here much longer?"

"A month."

"What did he do?"

"He was insolent to a tax gatherer."

The prince turned and saw another crowd, composed of women and
children. Among them was an old man.

"Are these prisoners?"

"No, most worthy lord. That is a family waiting for the body of a
criminal who is to be strangled oh, they are taking him already to the
chamber," said the overseer.

Then, turning to the crowd, he said,

"Be patient a short time, dear people. Ye will get the body soon."

"We thank thee greatly, worthy lord," answered an old man, doubtless
the father of the delinquent. "We left home yesterday evening, our flax
is in the field, and the river is rising."

The prince grew pale, and halted.

"Dost Thou know," asked he of the overseer, "that I have the right of
pardon?"

"Erpatr, Thou hast that right," answered the overseer, bowing; and then
he added: "The law declares, O child of the sun, that in memory of thy
presence men condemned for offences against the state and religion, but
who conduct themselves properly, should receive some abatement. A list
of such persons will be placed at thy feet within a month."

"But he who is to be strangled this moment, has he not the right to my
grace?"

The overseer opened his arms, and bent forward in silence.

They moved from place to place, and passed a number of courts. In
wooden cases on the bare ground were crowded men sentenced to
imprisonment. In one building were heard awful screams; they were
clubbing prisoners to force confession.

"I wish to see those accused of attacking my house," said the heir,
deeply moved.

"Of those there are more than three hundred," said the overseer.

"Select according to thy own judgment the most guilty, and question
them in my presence. I do not wish, though, to be known to them."

They opened to Ramses a chamber in which the investigating official was
occupied. The prince commanded him to take his usual place, but sat
himself behind a pillar.

The accused appeared one by one. All were lean; much hair had grown out
on them, and their eyes had the expression of settled bewilderment.

"Dutmoses," said the official, "tell how ye attacked the house of the
most worthy erpatr."

"I will tell truth, as at the judgment seat of Osiris. It was the
evening of that day when the Nile was to begin rising. My wife said to
me, 'Come, father, let us go up on the hills, where we can have an
earlier sight of the signal in Memphis.' Then we went up where we could
see the signal in Memphis more easily. Some warrior came to my wife and
said, 'Come with me into that garden. We will find grapes there, and
something else also.' Then my wife went into the garden with that
warrior. I fell into great rage, and I looked at them through the wall.
But whether stones were thrown at the prince's house or not I cannot
tell, for because of the trees and darkness I could not see anything."

"But how couldst Thou let thy wife go with a warrior?" asked the
official.

"With permission, worthiness, what was I to do? I am only an earth
worker, and he is a warrior and soldier of his holiness."

"But didst Thou see the priest who spoke to you?"

"That was not a priest," said the man, with conviction. "That must have
been the god Num himself, for he came out of a fig-tree and he had a
ram's head on him."

"But didst Thou see that he had a ram's head?"

"With permission I do not remember well whether I saw myself or whether
people told me. My eyes were affected by anxiety for my wife."

"Didst Thou throw stones at the garden?"

"Why should I throw stones, lord of life and death? If I had hit my
wife, I should have made trouble for a week. If I had hit the warrior,
I should have got a blow of a fist in the belly that would have made my
tongue stick out, for I am nothing but an earth-worker, and he is a
warrior of our lord who lives through eternity."

The heir leaned out from behind the column. They led away Dutmoses, and
brought in Anup. He was a short fellow. On his shoulders were scars
from club-strokes.

"Tell me, Anup," began the official again, "how was it about that
attack on the garden of the heir to the throne?"

"Eye of the sun," said the man, "vessel of wisdom, Thou knowest best of
all that I did not make the attack, only a neighbor comes to me and
says he, 'Anup, come up, for the Nile is rising.' And I say to him, 'Is
it rising?' And he says to me, 'Thou art duller than an ass, for an ass
would hear music on a hill, and Thou dost not hear it.' 'But,' says I,
'I am dull, for I did not learn writing; but with permission music is
one thing and the rise of the river is another.' 'If there were not a
rise,' says he, 'people would not have anything to be glad about and
play and sing.' So I say to thy justice, we went to the hill, and they
had driven away the music there and were throwing stones at the
garden."

"Who threw stones?"

"I could not tell. The men did not look like earth-workers, but more
like unclean dissectors who open dead bodies for embalming."

"And didst Thou see the priest?"

"With thy permission, O watchfulness, that was not a priest, but some
spirit that guards the house of the erpatr may he live through
eternity!"

"Why a spirit?"

"For at moments I saw him and at moments he went somewhere."

"Perhaps he was behind the people?"

"Indeed the people sometimes were in front of him. But at one time he
was higher and at another time lower."

"Maybe he went up on the hill and came down from it?"

"He must have gone up and come down, but maybe he stretched and
shortened himself, for he was a great wonderworker. Barely had he said,
'The Nile will rise,' and that minute the Nile began to rise."

"And didst Thou throw stones, Anup?"

"How should I dare to throw stones into the garden of the erpatr? I am
a simple fellow, my hand would wither to the elbow for such sacrilege."

The prince gave command to stop the examination, and when they had led
away the accused, he asked the official,

"Are these of the most guilty?"

"Thou hast said it, lord," answered the official.

"In that case all must be liberated today. We should not imprison
people because they wished to convince themselves that the holy Nile
was rising or for listening to music."

"The highest wisdom is speaking through thy lips, erpatr," said the
official. "I was commanded to find the most guilty, hence I have
summoned those whom I have found so; but it is not in my power to
return them liberty."

"Why?"

"Look, most worthy, on that box. It is full of papyruses on which are
written the details of the case. A judge in Memphis receives a report
on the progress of the case daily, and reports to his holiness. What
would become of the labor of so many learned scribes and great men if
the accused were set free?"

"But they are innocent!" cried the prince.

"There was an attack, therefore an offence. Where there is an offence
there must be offenders. Whoever has fallen once into the hands of
power, and is described in acts, cannot get free without some result.
In an inn a man drinks and pays; at a fair he sells something and
receives; in a field he sows and harvests; at graves he receives
blessings from his deceased ancestors. How, then, could any one after
he has come to a court return with nothing, like a traveler stopping
half-way on his journey and turning back his steps homeward without
attaining his object?"

"Thou speakest wisely," answered the heir. "But tell me, has not his
holiness the right to free these people?"

The official crossed his arms on his breast and bent his head,

"He is equal to the gods, he can do what he wishes; liberate accused,
nay, condemned men, and destroy even the documents of a case, things
which if done by a common man would be sacrilege."

The prince took farewell of the official, and said to the overseer,
"Give the accused better food at my expense." Then he sailed, greatly
irritated, to the other bank, stretching forth his hands toward the
palace continually, as if begging the pharaoh to destroy the case.

But that day his holiness had many religious ceremonies and a counsel
with the ministers, hence the heir could not see him. The prince went
immediately to the grand secretary, who next to the minister of war had
most significance at the court of the pharaoh. That ancient official, a
priest at one of the temples in Memphis, received the prince politely
but coldly, and when he had heard him he answered,

"It is a marvel to me that Thou wishest, worthiness, to disturb our
lord with such questions. It is as if Thou wert to beg him not to
destroy locusts which devour what is on the fields."

"But they are innocent people."

"We, worthy lord, cannot know that, for law and the courts decide as to
guilt and innocence. One thing is clear to me, the state cannot suffer
an attack on any one's garden, and especially cannot suffer that hands
should be raised against property of the erpatr."

"Thou speakest justly, but where are the guilty?" answered Ramses.

"Where there are no guilty there must at least be men who are punished.
Not the guilt of a man, but the punishment which follows a crime,
teaches others that they are not to commit the crime in question."

"I see," interrupted the heir, "that your worthiness will not support
my prayer."

"Wisdom flows from thy lips, erpatr," answered the priest. "Never shall
I give my lord a counsel which would expose the dignity of power to a
blow."

The prince returned home pained and astonished. He felt that an injury
had been done to some hundreds of people, and he saw that he could not
save them any more than he could rescue a man on whom an obelisk or the
column of a temple had fallen.

"My hands are too weak to rear this edifice," thought the prince, with
anguish of spirit.

For the first time he felt that there was a power infinitely greater
than his will, the interest of the state, which even the all-powerful
pharaoh acknowledges and before which he the erpatr must bend himself.

Night had fallen. Ramses commanded his servants to admit no one, and
walked in loneliness on the terrace of his villa, thinking,

"A wonderful thing! Down there at Pi-Bailos the invincible regiments of
Nitager opened before me, while in Memphis an overseer of prisons, an
investigating official, and a scribe bar the way to me. What are they?
Mere servants of my father, may he live through eternity! who can cast
them down to the rank of slaves at any moment and send them to the
quarries. But why should not my father pardon the innocent? The state
does not wish him to do so. And what is the state? Does it eat? where
does it sleep? where are its hands and its sword, of which all are in
terror?"

He looked into the garden, and among the trees on the summit of an
eminence he saw two immense silhouettes of pylons, on which sentry
lights were burning. The thought came to him that that watch never
slept, those pylons never ate, but still they existed. Those pylons had
existed for ages, mighty, like Ramses the Great, that potentate who had
reared them.

Could he lift those edifices and hundreds of similar grandeur; could he
escape those guards and thousands of others who watch over the safety
of Egypt; could he disobey laws established by Ramses the Great and
other preceding pharaohs still greater, laws which twenty dynasties had
consecrated by their reverence?

In the soul of the prince for the first time in life a certain idea,
dim but gigantic, began to fix itself in outline, the idea of the
state. The state is something more magnificent than the temple in
Thebes, something grander than the pyramid of Cheops, something more
ancient than the subterranean temple of the Sphinx, something more
enduring than granite in that immense though invisible edifice people
are like ants in some cranny of a cliff, and the pharaoh a mere
traveling architect who is barely able to lay one stone in the wall of
the edifice and then go on farther. But the walls increase from
generation to generation and the edifice continues.

He, the son of the pharaoh, had never felt yet his littleness as in
that moment, when his glance in the midst of the night was wandering
beyond the Nile among pylons of the pharaoh's palace, and the
indefinite but imposing outlines of the Memphis temples.

At that moment from among the trees whose branches touched the terrace,
he heard a voice.

"I know thy anxiety and I bless thee. The court will not free the
prisoners. But the case will drop, and they may return to their houses
if the overseer of thy land does not support the complaint of attack."

"Then did my overseer make the charge?" asked the astonished prince.

"Thou hast spoken truth. He made the charge in thy name. But if he does
not go to the court, there will be no injured person; and there is no
offence if there is no injured person."

The thicket rustled.

"Stop!" cried Ramses; "who art thou?"

No one gave answer. But it seemed to the prince that in a streak of
light from a torch burning on the lower floor a naked head was visible
for an instant, and also a panther skin.

"A priest," whispered the heir. "Why does he hide himself?"

But at that moment it occurred to him that the priest might answer
grievously for giving counsel which stopped the dispensation of
justice.



CHAPTER XII

RAMSES passed most of the night in feverish imaginings. Once the vision
of the state appeared to him as an immense labyrinth with strong walls
through which no one could force a way, then again he saw the shadow of
a priest who with one wise opinion had indicated to him the method of
escape from that labyrinth. And now appeared unexpectedly before him
two powers, the interest of the state, which he had not felt thus far,
though he was heir to the throne; and the priesthood, which he wished
to debase and then make his servant.

That was a burdensome night. The prince turned on his bed repeatedly,
and asked himself whether he had not been blind, and if he had not
received sight that day for the first time in order to convince himself
of his folly and nothingness. How differently during those night hours
did the warnings of his mother appear to him, and the restraint of his
father in enouncing the supreme will, and even the stern conduct of the
minister, Herhor.

"The state and the priesthood!" repeated the prince, half asleep, and
covered with cold perspiration.

The heavenly deities alone know what would have happened had there been
time to develop and ripen those thoughts which were circling that night
in the soul of Ramses. Perhaps if he had become pharaoh he would have
been one of the most fortunate and longest-lived rulers. Perhaps his
name, carved in temples above ground and underground, would have come
down to posterity surrounded with the highest glory. Perhaps he and his
dynasty would not have lost the throne, and Egypt would have avoided
great disturbance and the bitterest days of her history.

But the serenity of morning scattered the visions which circled above
the heated head of the heir, and the succeeding days changed greatly
his ideas of the inflexible interests of Egypt.

The visit of the prince to the prison was not fruitless. The
investigating official made a report to the supreme judge immediately,
the judge looked over the case again, examined some of the accused
himself, and in the course of some days liberated the greater number;
the remainder he brought to trial as quickly as possible.

When he who had complained of the damage done the prince's property did
not appear, though summoned in the hall of the court and on the market-
place, the case was dropped, and the rest of the accused were set at
liberty.

One of the judges remarked, it is true, that according to law the
prince's overseer should be prosecuted for false complaint, and, in
case of conviction, suffer the punishment which threatened the
defendants. This question too they passed over in silence.

The overseer disappeared from the eyes of justice, he was sent by the
heir to the province of Takeus, and soon the whole box of documents in
the case vanished it was unknown whither.

On hearing this, Prince Ramses went to the grand secretary and asked
with a smile,

"Well, worthy lord, the innocent are liberated, the documents
concerning them have been destroyed sacrilegiously, and still the
dignity of the government has not been exposed to danger."

"My prince," answered the grand secretary, with his usual coolness, "I
did not understand that Thou offerest complaints with one hand and
wishest to withdraw them with the other. Worthiness, Thou wert offended
by the rabble; hence it was thy affair to punish it. If Thou hast
forgiven it, the state has nothing to answer."

"The state! the state!" repeated the prince. "We are the state," added
he, blinking.

"Yes, the state is the pharaoh and his most faithful servants," added
the secretary.

This conversation with such a high official sufficed to obliterate in
the prince's soul those ideas of state dignity which were growing and
powerful, though indistinct yet. "The state, then, is not that
immovable, ancient edifice to which each pharaoh is bound to add one
stone of glory, but rather a sand-heap, which each ruler reshapes as he
pleases. In the state there are no narrow doors, known as laws, in
passing through which each must bow his head, whoever he be, erpatr or
earth-worker. In this edifice are various entrances and exits, narrow
for the weak and small, very wide, nay, commodious for the powerful."

"If this be so," thought the prince, as the idea flashed on him, "I
will make the order which shall please me."

At that moment Ramses remembered two people, the liberated black who
without waiting for command had been ready to die for him, and that
unknown priest.

"If I had more like them, my will would have meaning in Egypt and
beyond it," said he to himself, and he felt an inextinguishable desire
to find that priest.

"He is, in all likelihood, the man who restrained the crowd from
attacking my house. On the one hand he knows law to perfection, on the
other he knows how to manage multitudes."

"A man beyond price! I must have him."

From that time Ramses, in a small boat managed by one oarsman, began to
visit the cottages in the neighborhood of his villa. Dressed in a tunic
and a great wig, in his hand a staff on which a measure was cut out,
the prince looked like an engineer studying the Nile and its overflows.

Earth-tillers gave him willingly all explanations concerning changes in
the form of land because of inundations, and at the same time they
begged that the government might think out some easier way of raising
water than by sweeps and buckets. They told too of the attack on the
house of Prince Ramses, and said that they knew not who threw the
stones. Finally they mentioned the priest who had sent the crowd away
so successfully; but who he was they knew not.

"There is," said one man, "a priest in our neighborhood who cures sore
eyes; there is one who heals wounds and sets broken arms and legs.
There are some priests who teach reading and writing; there is one who
plays on a double flute, and plays even beautifully. But that one who
was in the garden of the heir is not among them, and they know nothing
of him. Surely he must be the god Num, or some spirit watching over the
prince, may he live through eternity and always have appetite!"

"Maybe it is really some spirit," thought Ramses.

In Egypt good or evil spirits always came more easily than rain.

The water of the Nile from being ruddy became brownish, and in August,
the month of Hator, it reached one half its height. The sluices were
opened on the banks of the river, and the water began to fill the
canals quickly, and also the gigantic artificial lake, Moeris, in the
province Fayum, celebrated for the beauty of its roses. Lower Egypt
looked like an arm of the sea thickly dotted with hills on which were
houses and gardens. Communication by land ceased altogether, and such a
multitude of boats circled around on the water boats white, yellow,
red, dark that they seemed like leaves in autumn. On the highest points
of land people had finished harvesting the peculiar cotton of the
country, and for the second time had cut clover and begun to gather in
olives and tamarinds.

On a certain day, while sailing along over inundated lands, the prince
saw an unusual movement. On one of the temporary mounds was heard among
the trees the loud cry of a woman.

"Surely some one is dead," thought Ramses.

From a second mound were sailing away in small boats supplies of wheat
and some cattle, while people standing at buildings on the land
threatened and abused people in the boats.

"Some quarrel among neighbors," said the prince to himself.

In remoter places there was quiet, and people instead of working or
singing were sitting on the ground in silence.

"They must have finished work and are resting."

But from a third mound a boat moved away with a number of crying
children, while a woman wading in the water to her waist shook her fist
and threatened.

"They are taking children to school," thought Ramses.

These happenings began to interest him.

On a fourth mound he heard a fresh cry. He shaded his eyes and saw a
man lying on the ground; a negro was beating him.

"What is happening there?" asked Ramses of the boatman.

"Does not my lord see that they are beating a wretched earth-tiller?"
answered the boatman, smiling. "He must have done something, so pain is
traveling through his bones."

"But who art thou?"

"I?" replied the boatman, proudly. "I am a free fisherman. If I give a
certain share of my catch to his holiness, I may sail the Nile from the
sea to the cataract. A fisherman is like a fish or a wild goose; but an
earth-tiller is like a tree which nourishes lords with its fruit and
can never escape but only squeaks when overseers spoil the bark on it."

"Oho! ho! but look there!" cried the fisherman, pleased again. "Hei!
father, don't drink up all the water, or there will be a bad harvest."

This humorous exclamation referred to a group of persons who were
displaying a very original activity. A number of naked laborers were
holding a man by the legs and plunging him head first in the water to
his neck, to his breast, and at last to his waist. Near them stood an
overseer with a cane; he wore a stained tunic and a wig made of
sheepskin.

A little farther on some men held a woman by the arms, while she
screamed in a voice which was heaven-piercing.

Beating with a stick was as general in the happy kingdom of the pharaoh
as eating and sleeping. They beat children and grown people, earth-
tillers, artisans, warriors, officers, and officials. All living
persons were caned save only priests and the highest officials there
was no one to cane them. Hence the prince looked calmly enough on an
earth-worker beaten with a cane; but to plunge a man into water roused
his attention.

"Ho! ho!" laughed the boatman, meanwhile, "but are they giving him
drink! He will grow so thick that his wife must lengthen his belt for
him."

The prince commanded to row to the mound. Meanwhile they had taken the
man from the river, let him cough out water, and seized him a second
time by the legs, in spite of the unearthly screams of his wife, who
fell to biting the men who had seized her.

"Stop!" cried Ramses to those who were dragging the earth-tiller.

"Do your duty!" cried he of the sheepskin wig, in nasal tones. "Who art
thou, insolent, who darest."

At that moment the prince gave him a blow on the forehead with his
cane, which luckily was light. Still the owner of the stained tunic
dropped to the earth, and feeling his wig and head, looked with misty
eyes at the attacker.

"I divine," said he in a natural voice, "that I have the honor to
converse with a notable person. May good humor always accompany thee,
lord, and bile never spread through thy bones."

"What art Thou doing to this man?" interrupted Ramses.

"Thou inquirest," returned the man, speaking again in nasal tones,
"like a foreigner unacquainted with the customs of the country and the
people, to whom he speaks too freely. Know, then, that I am the
collector of his worthiness Dagon, the first banker in Memphis. And if
Thou hast not grown pale yet, know that the worthy Dagon is the agent
and the friend of the erpatr, may he live through eternity! and that
Thou hast committed violence on the lands of Prince Ramses; to this my
people will testify."

"Then know this," interrupted the prince; but he stopped suddenly. "By
what right art Thou torturing in this way one of the prince's earth-
tillers?"

"Because he will not pay his rent, and the treasury of the heir is in
need of it."

The servants of the official, in view of the catastrophe which had come
on their master, dropped their victim and stood as helpless as the
members of a body from which its head has been severed. The liberated
man began to spit again and shake the water out of his ears, but his
wife rushed up to the rescuer.

"Whoever Thou art," groaned she, clasping her hands before Ramses, "a
god, or even a messenger of the pharaoh, listen to the tale of our
sufferings. We are earth-tillers of the heir to the throne, may he live
through eternity! and we have paid all our dues: in millet, in wheat,
in flowers, and in skins of cattle. But in the last ten days this man
here has come and commands us again to give seven measures of wheat to
him. 'By what right?' asks my husband; 'the rents are paid, all of
them.' But he throws my husband on the ground, stamps, and says, 'By
this right, that the worthy Dagon has commanded.' 'Whence shall I get
wheat,' asks my husband, 'when we have none and for a month past we
have eaten only seeds, or roots of lotus, which are harder and harder
to get, for great lords like to amuse themselves with flowers of the
lotus?'"

She lost breath and fell to weeping. The prince waited patiently till
she calmed herself, but the man who had been plunged into the water
grumbled.

"This woman will bring misfortune with her talk. I have said that I do
not like to see women meddle."

Meanwhile the official, pushing up to the boatman, asked in an
undertone, indicating Ramses,

"Who is this?"

"Ah, may thy tongue wither!" answered the boatman. "Dost Thou not see
that he must be a great lord: he pays well and strikes heavily."

"I saw at once," answered the official, "that he must be some great
person. My youth passed at feasts with noted persons."

"Aha! the sauces have stuck to thy dress after those feasts," blurted
out the boatman.

The woman, after crying, continued,

"Today this scribe came with his people, and said to my husband, 'If
Thou hast not money, give thy two sons. The worthy Dagon will not only
forgive thee the rent, but will pay thee a drachma a year for each
boy.'"

"Woe to me because of thee!" roared the half-drowned husband; "Thou
wilt destroy us all with thy babbling. Do not listen to her," continued
he, turning to Ramses. "As a cow thinks that she frightens off flies
with her tail, so it seems to a woman that she can drive away
collectors with her tongue; and neither cow nor woman knows that she is
stupid."

"Thou art stupid!" said the woman. "Sun-like lord with the form of a
pharaoh."

"I call to witness that this woman blasphemes," said the official to
his people in a low voice.

"Odorous flower, whose voice is like a flute, listen to me!" implored
the woman of Ramses. "Then my husband answered this official, 'I would
rather lose two bulls, if I had them, than give my boys away, though
Thou wert to give me four drachmas; for when a boy leaves home for
service no one ever sees him after that.'."

"Would that I were choked! would that fish were eating my body in the
bottom of the Nile!" groaned the earth-tiller. "Thou wilt destroy all
our house with thy complaints, woman."

The official, seeing that he had the support of the side mainly
interested, stepped forth and began, in nasal tones, a second time,

"Since the sun rises beyond the palace of the pharaoh and sets over the
pyramids, various wonders have happened in this country. In the days of
the Pharaoh Sememphes marvelous things appeared near the pyramid of
Kochom, and a plague fell on Egypt. In the time of Boetus the ground
opened near Bubastis and swallowed many people. In the reign of
Neferches the waters of the Nile for eleven days were as sweet as
honey. Men saw these and many other things of which I know, for I am
full of wisdom. But never has it been seen that some unknown man came
up out of the water and stopped the collection of rent in the lands of
the heir to the throne of Egypt."

"Be silent," shouted Ramses, "and be off out of this place! No one will
take thy children," said he to the woman.

"It is easy for me to go away," said the collector, "for I have a swift
boat and five rowers. But, worthiness, give me some sign for my lord
Dagon."

"Take off thy wig and show him the sign on thy forehead," said Ramses.
"And tell Dagon that I will put marks of the same kind all over his
body."

"Listen to that blasphemy!" whispered the collector to his men, drawing
back toward the bank with low bows.

He sat down in the boat, and when his assistants had moved off and
pushed away some tens of yards, he stretched out his hand and shouted,

"May gripe seize thy intestines, blasphemer, rebel! From here I will go
straight to Prince Ramses and tell him what is happening on his lands."

Then he took his cane and belabored his men because they had not taken
part with him.

"So it will be with thee!" cried he to Ramses.

The prince sprang into his boat and in a rage commanded the boatman to
pursue the insolent servant of the usurer. But he of the sheepskin wig
threw down the cane, took an oar himself, and his men helped him so
well that pursuit became impossible.

"Sooner could an owl overtake a lark than we overtake them, my
beautiful lord," cried the prince's boatman, laughing. "But who art
thou? Thou art not a surveyor, but an officer, maybe even an officer of
the guard of his holiness. Thou dost strike right always on the
forehead! I know about this; I was five years in the army. I always
struck on the forehead or the belly, and I had not the worst time in
the world. But if any one struck me, I understood right away that he
must be a great person. In our Egypt may the gods never leave the land!
it is terribly crowded; town is near town, house is near house, man is
near man. Whoso wishes to turn in this throng must strike in the
forehead."

"Art Thou married?" asked the prince.

"Pfu! when I have a woman and place for a person and a half, I am
married; but for the rest of the time I am single. I have been in the
army, and I know that a woman is good, though not at all times. She is
in the way often."

"Perhaps Thou wouldst come to me for service? Who knows, wouldst Thou
be sorry to work for me?"

"With permission, worthiness, I noticed that Thou couldst lead a
regiment in spite of thy young face. But I enter the service of no man.
I am a free fisherman; my grandfather was, with permission, a shepherd
in Lower Egypt, our family comes of the Hyksos people. It is true that
dull Egyptian earth-tillers revile us, but I laugh at them. The earth-
tillers and the Hyksos, I say, worthiness, are like an ox and a bull.
The earth-tiller may go behind the plough or before it, but the Hyksos
will not serve any man, unless in the army of his holiness, that is
warrior life."

The boatman was in the vein and talked continually, but the prince
heard no longer. In his soul very painful questions grew louder and
louder, for they were new altogether. Were those mounds, then, around
which he had been sailing, on his property? A marvelous thing, he knew
not at all where his lands were nor what they looked like. So in his
name Dagon had imposed new rents on the people, and the active movement
on which he had been looking while moving along the shores was the
extortion of rents. It was clear that the man whom they had been
beating on the shore had nothing to pay with. The children who were
crying bitterly in the boat were sold at a drachma per head for a
twelvemonth, and that woman who was wading in the water to her waist
and weeping was their mother.

"Women are very unquiet," said the prince to himself. "Sarah is the
quietest woman; but others love to talk much, to cry and raise an
uproar."

He remembered the man who was pacifying his wife's excitement. They had
been plunging him into the water and he was not angry; they did nothing
to her, and still she made an uproar.

"Women are very unquiet!" repeated be. "Yes, even my mother, who is
worthy of honor. What a difference between her and my father! His
holiness does not wish to know at all that I left the army for a girl,
but the queen likes to occupy herself even with this, that I took into
my house a Jewess. Sarah is the quietest of women whom I know; but
Tafet cries and makes an uproar for four persons."

Then the prince recalled the words of the man's wife, that for a month
they had not eaten wheat, only seeds and roots of lotus. Lotus and
poppy seeds are similar; the roots are poor. He could not eat them for
three days in succession. Moreover, the priests who were occupied in
medicine advised change of diet. While in school they told him that a
man ought to eat flesh with fish, dates with wheat bread, figs with
barley. But for a whole month to live on lotus seeds! Well, cows and
horses? Cows and horses like hay, but barley straw must be shoved into
their throats by force. Surely then earth-workers prefer lotus seeds as
food, while wheat or barley cakes, fish and flesh they do not relish.
For that matter, the most pious priests, wonderworkers, never touch
flesh or fish. Evidently magnates and king's sons need flesh, just as
lions and eagles do; but earth-tillers grass, like an ox.

"Only that plunging into the water to pay rent. Ei! but didn't he once
in bathing with his comrades put them under water, and even dive
himself? What laughing they had in those days! Diving was fun. And as
to beating with a cane, how many times had they beaten him in school?
It is painful, but evidently not for every creature. A beaten dog howls
and bites; a beaten ox does not even look around. So beating may pain a
great lord, but a common man cries only so as to cry when the chance
comes. Not all cry; soldiers and officers sing while belabored."

But these wise reflections could not drown the small but annoying
disquiet in the heart of Ramses. So his tenant Dagon had imposed an
unjust rent which the tenants could not pay!

At this moment the prince was not concerned about the tenants, but his
mother. His mother must know of this Phoenician management. What would
she say about it to her son? How she would look at him! How sneeringly
she would laugh! And she would not be a woman if she did not speak to
him as follows: "I told thee, Ramses, that Phoenicians would desolate
thy property."

"If those traitorous priests," thought the prince, "would give me
twenty talents today, I would drive out that Dagon in the morning, my
tenants would not be plunged under water, would not suffer blows, and
my mother would not jeer at me. A tenth, a hundredth part of that
wealth which is lying in the temples and feeding the greedy eyes of
those bare heads would make me independent for years of Phoenicians."

Just then an idea which was strange enough flashed up in the soul of
Ramses, that between priests and earth-tillers there existed a certain
opposition.

"Through Herhor," thought he, "that man hanged himself on the edge of
the desert. To maintain priests and temples about two million Egyptian
men toil grievously. If the property of the priests belonged to the
pharaoh's treasury, I should not have to borrow fifteen talents and my
people would not be oppressed so terribly. There is the source of
misfortunes for Egypt and of weakness for its pharaohs!"

The prince felt that a wrong was done the people; therefore he
experienced no small solace in discovering that priests were the
authors of this evil. It did not occur to him that his judgment might
be unjust and faulty. Besides, he did not judge, he was only indignant.
The anger of a man never turns against himself, just as a hungry
panther never eats its own body; it twirls its tail and moves its ears
while looking for a victim.



CHAPTER XIII

The expedition of the heir to the throne, undertaken with the object of
discovering the priest who had saved Sarah and had given him legal
advice, had a result that was unexpected.

The priest was not discovered, but among Egyptian earth-tillers legends
began to circulate which concerned Ramses.

Some mysterious man sailed about from village to village and told the
people that the heir to the throne freed the men who were in danger of
condemnation to the quarries for attacking his dwelling. Besides, he
had beaten down an official who was extorting unjust rent from tenants.
Finally, the unknown person added that Prince Ramses was under the
special guardianship of Amon, who was his father.

Simple people listened to these tidings eagerly, first, because they
agreed with facts, second, because the man who told the story was
himself like a spirit it was not known whence he came nor whither he
had vanished.

Prince Ramses made no mention whatever of his tenants to Dagon; he did
not even summon him. He felt ashamed in presence of the Phoenician from
whom he had taken money and might require money yet more than one time.

But a few days after the adventure with Dagon's scribe the banker came
himself to the heir, holding in his hand some covered object.

On entering the prince's chamber he bent down, untied a white kerchief,
and drew forth from it a very beautiful gold goblet; the goblet was set
with stones of various colors, and covered with carving in relief which
on the lower part represented the gathering and pressing out of grapes
and on the cup part a feast.

"Accept this goblet, worthy lord, from thy slave," said the banker,
"and use it for a hundred, a thousand years, to the end of ages."

The prince understood what the Phoenician wanted; so, without touching
the golden gift, he said with a stern expression,

"Dost Thou see, Dagon, that purple reflection inside the goblet?"

"I do, indeed," replied the banker; "why should I not see that which
shows the goblet to be the purest gold?"

"But I declare that to be the blood of children seized away from their
parents," said the heir, angrily.

And he turned and went to an interior chamber.

"O Astoreth!" groaned the Phoenician.

His lips grew blue, and his hands trembled so that he was hardly able
to wrap up the goblet.

A couple of days later Dagon sailed down with his goblet to Sarah's
house. He was arrayed in robes interwoven with gold; in his thick beard
were glass globulets from which issued perfumes, and he had fastened
two plumes to his head.

"Beautiful Sarah," began he, "may Jehovah pour on thy family as many
blessings as there are waters in the Nile at present! We Phoenicians
and ye Jews are brethren and neighbors. I am inflamed with such ardor
of love for thee that didst Thou not belong to our most worthy lord I
would give Gideon ten talents for thee, and would take thee for my
lawful wife. So enamored am I."

"May God preserve me," answered Sarah, "from wanting another lord
beyond the one who is mine at this moment. But whence, worthy Dagon,
did the desire come to thee today of visiting our lord's servant?"

"I will tell thee the truth, as if Thou wert Tamara, my wife, who, a
real daughter of Sidon, though she brought me a large dowry, is old now
and not worthy to take off thy sandals."

"In the honey flowing from thy lips there is much wormwood," put in
Sarah.

"Let the honey," replied Dagon, sitting down, "be for thee and let the
wormwood poison my heart. Our lord Prince Ramses may he live through
eternity! has the mouth of a lion and the keenness of a vulture. He has
seen fit to rent his estate to me. This has filled my stomach with
delight; but he does not trust me, so I lay awake whole nights from
anxiety, I only sigh and cover my bed with tears, in which bed would
that Thou wert resting with me, O Sarah, instead of my wife Tamara, who
cannot rouse desire in me any longer."

"That is not what Thou wishest to say," interrupted the blushing Sarah.

"I know not what I wish to say, since I have looked on thee, and since
our lord, examining my activity on his estates, struck with a cane and
took health from my scribe who was collecting dues there from tenants.
And these dues were not for me. Sarah, but for our lord. It is not I
who will eat the figs and wheaten bread from those lands, but Thou and
our lord. I have given money to our lord and jewels to thee. Why then
should the low Egyptian rabble impoverish our lord and thee, Sarah? To
show how greatly Thou rousest my desire and that from these estates I
wish nothing but reserve all for thee and our lord, I give this goblet
of pure gold set with jewels and covered with carving at which the gods
themselves would be astonished."

Then Dagon drew forth from the cloth the goblet refused by Prince
Ramses.

"I do not even wish that Thou shouldst have the goblet in the house and
give the prince to drink from it. Give this goblet of pure gold to
Gideon, whom I love as my own brother. And thou, Sarah, tell thy father
these words: 'Thy twin brother Dagon, the unfortunate tenant on the
lands of Prince Ramses, is ruined. Drink then, my father, from this
goblet, think of thy twin brother, and beg Jehovah that our lord,
Prince Ramses, may not beat his scribes, and bring to revolt tenants
who even now have no wish to pay tribute? And know this, Sarah, that if
Thou wouldst admit me to confidence I would give thee two talents, and
thy father one talent, and, besides, I should be ashamed of giving thee
so little, for Thou deservest that the pharaoh himself should fondle
thee, and the heir of the throne, and the worthy minister Herhor, and
the most valiant Nitager, and the richest bankers of the Phoenicians.
There is such a taste in thee that I grow faint when I gaze at thee,
and when I see thee not, I close my eyes and lick my lips. Thou art
sweeter than figs, more fragrant than roses. I would give thee five
talents. Take this goblet, Sarah."

Sarah drew back with drooping eyes.

"I will not take the goblet," answered she; "my lord forbade me to take
gifts from any one."

Dagon was astonished, and looked with widely opened eyes at her.

"Then it must be that Thou knowest not, Sarah, the value of this
goblet. But I give it to thy father, who is my brother."

"I cannot take it," whispered Sarah.

"Oh!" cried Dagon. "Then thou, Sarah, wilt pay me for this goblet in
another way, without speaking to thy lord. But a woman as beautiful as
Thou must have gold and jewels, and should have her own banker to bring
her money when she pleases, not alone when her lord likes."

"I cannot!" whispered Sarah, without concealing her repulsion for the
banker.

The Phoenician changed his tone in the twinkle of an eye, and said
laughing,

"Very good, Sarah! I only wished to convince myself that Thou art
faithful to our lord. I see that Thou art faithful, though foolish, as
people say."

"What?" burst out Sarah, rushing at Dagon with clinched fist.

"Ha! ha!" laughed the Phoenician. "What a pity that our lord could not
hear and see thee this moment! But I will tell him, when he is in good
humor, that Thou art not only as faithful as a dog to him, but even
that Thou wouldst not accept a gold goblet because he has not permitted
thee to take presents. And this goblet, believe me, Sarah, has tempted
more than one woman, and women who were not of small importance."

Dagon sat awhile admiring the virtue and obedience of Sarah; at last he
took farewell of her with much feeling, sat down in his tented boat,
and sailed away toward Memphis. When the boat had pushed off from the
country house, the smile vanished from the banker's face, and an
expression of anger came out thereon. When Sarah's house was hidden
behind the trees, Dagon stood up and raised his hands.

"O Baal of Sidon, O Astoreth!" said he, "avenge my insult on this
cursed daughter of a Jew. Let her treacherous beauty perish as a drop
of rain in the desert! May disease devour her body, and madness bind
her soul! May her lord hunt her out of his house like a mangy swine!
And as today she pushed my goblet aside, may the hour come when people
will push her withered hand aside, when in thirst she begs them for a
cup of dirty water."

Then he spat and muttered words with hidden and dreadful meaning; a
black cloud covered the sun for a while, and the water near the side of
the boat began to grow muddy and rise in a mighty wave. When he
finished, the sun had grown bright again; but the river was disturbed,
as if a new inundation were moving it.

Dagon's rowers were frightened, and ceased their singing; but separated
from their master by the side of the boat, they could not see his
ceremonies.

Thenceforth the Phoenician did not appear before Prince Ramses. But on
a certain day when the prince came to his residence, he found in his
bedchamber a beautiful Phoenician dancer, sixteen years of age, whose
entire dress was a golden circlet on her head, and a shawl, as delicate
as spider webs, thrown across her shoulders.

"Who art thou?" asked the prince.

"I am a priestess, and thy servant; the lord Dagon has sent me to
frighten away thy auger against him."

"How wilt Thou do that?"

"Oh, in this way sit down there," said she, seating him in an armchair.
"I will stand on tiptoe, so as to grow taller than thy anger, and with
this shawl, which is sacred, I will drive evil spirits from thee. A
kish! a kish!" whispered she, dancing in a circle. "Ramses, let my
hands remove gloom from thy hair, let my kisses bring back to thy eyes
their bright glances. Let the beating of my heart fill thy ears with
music, lord of Egypt. A kish! a kish! he is not yours, but mine. Love
demands such silence that in its presence even anger must grow still."

While dancing, she played with the prince's hair, put her arms around
his neck, kissed him on the eyes. At last she sat down wearied at his
feet, and, resting her head on his knees, turned her face toward him
quickly, panting with parted lips.

"Thou art no longer angry with thy servant Dagon?" whispered she,
stroking his face.

Ramses wished to kiss her on the lips, but she sprang away from his
knees, crying,

"Oh, that is not possible!"

"Why so?"

"I am a virgin and priestess of the great goddess Astoreth. Thou
wouldst have to love my guardian goddess greatly, and honor her before
Thou couldst kiss me."

"But is it permitted thee?"

"All things are permitted me, for I am a priestess, and have sworn to
preserve my virginity."

"Why hast Thou come hither, then?"

"To drive out thy anger. I have done so, I depart. Be well and kind
always," added she, with a piercing glance.

"Where dost Thou dwell? What is thy name?" asked Ramses.

"My name is Fondling, and I dwell Ei, why should I tell? Thou wilt not
come soon to me."

She waved her hand and vanished. The prince, as if stunned, did not
move from his chair. When after a while he looked through the window,
he saw a rich litter which four Nubians bore toward the Nile swiftly.

Ramses was not sorry for the departing woman; she astonished, but did
not attract him.

"Sarah is calmer," thought he, "and more beautiful. Moreover, it seems
to me that that Phoenician must be cold, and her fondlings are
studied."

But from that time the prince ceased to be angry at Dagon, all the more
since on a day when he was at Sarah's earth-tillers came to him, and
thanking him for protection declared that the Phoenician forced them to
pay new rents no longer.

That was the case close to Memphis, but on other lands the prince's
tenants made good Dagon's losses.



CHAPTER XIV

In the month of Choeak (from the middle of September to the middle of
October), the waters of the Nile were highest, and began to fall
slightly. In the gardens people gathered tamarinds, dates, olives; and
trees blossomed a second time.

At this juncture his holiness Ramses XII left his sun-bright palace in
Memphis, and with a grand suite on some tens of stately barges sailed
to Thebes, to thank the gods there for the bounteous inundation, and
also to place offerings oil the tombs of his eternally living
ancestors.

The most worthy ruler took farewell of his heir very graciously; but
the direction of state affairs during his absence he left with Herhor.

Ramses felt this proof of want of confidence so greatly that for three
days he took no food and did not leave his villa; he only wept. Later
he ceased to shave, and transferred himself to Sarah's house, so as not
to meet Herhor or annoy his own mother, whom he considered the cause of
his failures.

On the following day Tutmosis visited him in this retreat, bringing two
boats filled with musicians and dancers, and a third containing baskets
of food and flowers, with pitchers of wine. But the prince commanded
the musicians and dancers to depart, and taking Tutmosis to the garden,
he said,

"Of course my mother may she live through eternity! sent thee to
separate me from the Jewess? Tell her worthiness that were Herhor to
become not merely viceroy, but the son of my father, I should do that
which pleases me. I know how to do it. Today they wish to deprive me of
Sarah, and to-morrow they would take my power from me; I will show them
that I shall not renounce anything."

The prince was irritated. Tutmosis shrugged his shoulders, and remarked
finally,

"As a whirlwind sweeps a bird into a desert, so does anger cast a man
on the shores of injustice. How canst Thou wonder if the priests are
displeased because the heir to the throne has connected his life with a
woman of another country and a strange religion? Sarah does not please
them, especially since Thou hast her alone. Hadst Thou a number of
various women, like all noble youths, they would not mind the Jewess.
But have they done her harm? No. On the contrary, even some priest
defended her against a raging crowd which it pleased thee to liberate
from imprisonment."

"But my mother?"

Tutmosis laughed.

"Thy worthy mother loves thee as her own eyes and heart. Of course
Sarah does not please her, either, but dost Thou know what her
worthiness said once to me? This, that I should entice Sarah from thee.
What a jest on her part! To this I answered with a second jest: 'Ramses
has given me a brace of hunting dogs and two Syrian horses because he
has grown tired of them; perhaps some day he will give me his mistress
too, of course I shall have to take her with other things.'."

"Do not think of it. I would not give Sarah to any man, were it only
for this, because of her my father has not appointed me viceroy."

Tutmosis shook his head.

"Thou art greatly mistaken," answered he, "so much mistaken that I am
terrified. Dost Thou not really understand the causes of the disfavor?
Every enlightened Egyptian knows them."

"I know nothing."

"So much the worse," said the anxious Tutmosis. "Thou dost not know,
then, that warriors, since the maneuvers, especially Greek warriors,
drink thy health in every dramshop."

"They got money to do so."

"True; but not to cry out, with all the voice that is in them, that
when Thou shalt succeed to his holiness may he live through eternity!
Thou wilt begin a great war, after which there will be changes in
Egypt."

"What changes? And who is the man who during the life of the pharaoh
may dare to speak of the plans of his successor?"

Now the prince grew gloomy.

"That is one thing, but I will tell thee another," said, Tutmosis, "for
misfortunes, like hyenas, never come singly. Dost Thou know that the
lowest people sing songs about thee, sing how Thou didst free the
attackers from prison, and what is worse, they repeat again, that, when
Thou shalt succeed his holiness, rents will be abolished. It must be
added that when common people speak of injustice and rents,
disturbances follow; and either a foreign enemy attacks our weakened
state, or Egypt is divided into as many parts as there are nomarchs.
Finally, judge for thyself, is it proper that any man's name should be
mentioned oftener than the pharaoh's, and that any man should stand
between the people and our lord? If Thou permit, I will tell how
priests look on this matter."

"Of course, speak."

"Well, a very wise priest who from the summit of the temple of Amon
examines celestial movements, has thought out this statement: 'The
pharaoh is the sun, the heir to the throne the moon. When the moon
follows the god of light from afar, we have brightness in the daytime
and clearness at night. When the moon wishes to be too near the sun, it
disappears itself and the nights are dark. But if the moon stands
before the sun there is an eclipse, and in the world great terror '."

"And all this babble," interrupted Ramses, "goes to the ears of his
holiness. Misfortune on my head! Would that I had never been the son of
a pharaoh!"

"The pharaoh, as a god upon earth, knows everything; but he is too
mighty to care for the drunken shouts of soldiers or the whispers of
earth tillers. He understands that every Egyptian would die for him,
and Thou first of all."

"Thou hast spoken truth!" answered the anxious prince. "But in all this
I see new vileness and deceit of the priests," added he, rousing
himself. "It is I, then, who hide the majesty of our lord, because I
free the innocent from prison, or do not let my tenant torture earth-
workers with unjust tribute. But when his worthiness Herhor manages the
army, appoints leaders, negotiates with foreign princes, and directs my
father to spend his time in prayers."

Tutmosis covered his ears, and, stamping, cried, "Be silent! be silent!
every word of thine is blasphemy. His holiness alone directs the state,
and whatever is done on earth proceeds from his will. Herhor is a
servant of the pharaoh and does what his lord enjoins on him. If Thou
wilt convince thyself oh, that my words be not ill understood."

The prince grew so gloomy that Tutmosis broke off the conversation and
took farewell of his friend at the earliest. When he sat down in his
boat, which was furnished with a baldachin and curtains, he drew a deep
breath and draining a large goblet of wine, thought,

"Brr! I thank the gods for not giving me such a character as that which
Ramses has. He is a most unhappy man in the happiest conditions. He
might have the most beautiful women in Memphis, but he sticks to one to
annoy his mother. Meanwhile it is not his mother that he annoys, but
all the virtuous virgins and faithful wives who are withering from
sadness that the heir to the throne, and moreover a youth of great
comeliness, does not snatch from them virtue or force them to
unfaithfulness. He might not only drink but even swim in the best wine;
meanwhile he prefers the wretched camp beer, and bread rubbed with
garlic. Whence came these low inclinations? I cannot imagine. Or was it
that the worthy Nikotris in her critical period looked at workmen while
they were eating?

"He might do nothing from daylight till darkness. If he wished, the
most famous lords, with their wives, sisters, and daughters, would
serve food to him. He not only stretches forth his own hands to take
food, but, to the torment of our noble youths, he washes himself,
dresses himself, and his barber spends whole days in snaring birds and
thus wastes his abilities.

"O Ramses, Ramses!" sighed the exquisite. "Is it possible that fashion
should be developed in the time of such a prince? We wear the same
aprons from one year to another, and we retain wigs, only thanks to
court dignitaries, for Ramses will not wear any wig. This is a great
offence to the whole order of nobles. And all brought about by cursed
politics, brr! Oh, how happy I am that I need not divine what they are
thinking of in Tyre or Nineveh; break my head over wages for the army;
calculate how many people have been added to Egypt or taken from it,
and what rents must be collected. It is a terrible thing to say to
one's self, 'My tenant does not pay what I need and expend, but what
the increase of the Nile permits.'."

Thus meditated the exquisite Tutmosis, while he strengthened his
anxious soul with golden wine. Before the boat had sailed up to
Memphis, heavy sleep had mastered him in such wise that his slaves had
to carry their lord to the litter.

After the departure of Tutmosis, which resembled a flight, the heir
fell to thinking deeply; he even felt fear.

Ramses was a skeptic. As a pupil of the priests, and a member of the
highest aristocracy, he knew that when certain priests had fasted many
months and mortified their senses they summoned spirits, while others
spoke of spirits as a fancy, a deception. He had seen, too, that Apis,
the sacred bull before which all Egypt fell prostrate, received at
times heavy blows of a cane from inferior priests, who gave the beast
food and brought cows to him.

He understood, finally, that his father, Ramses XII, who for the common
crowd was a god who lived through eternity, and the all-commanding lord
of this world, was really just such a person as others, only a little
more weakly than ordinary old men, and very much limited in power by
the priestly order.

The prince saw all this, and jeered in his soul and even la public at
many things. But all his infidelity fell before the actual truth, that
no one was permitted to trifle with the titles of the pharaoh.

Ramses knew the history of his country, and he remembered that in Egypt
many things were forgiven the mighty. A great lord might ruin a canal,
kill a man in secret, revile the gods privately, take presents from
ambassadors of foreign states, but two sins were not forgiven, the
betrayal of priestly secrets, and treason to the pharaoh. A man who
committed one or the other disappeared, sometimes after a year, from
among his friends and servants. But where he had been put or what had
been done with him, no one even dared to mention.

Ramses felt that he was on an incline of this sort from the time that
the army and the people began to mention his name and speak of certain
plans of his, changes in the state, future wars. Thinking of this, the
prince felt as if a nameless crowd of rebels and unfortunates were
pushing him violently to the point of the highest obelisk, from which
he must tumble down and be crushed into jelly.

Later on, when, after the longest life of his father possible, he
became pharaoh, he would have the right and the means to accomplish
many deeds of which no one in Egypt could even think without terror.
But today he must in truth have a care, lest they declare him a traitor
and a rebel against the fundamental laws of Egypt. In that state there
was one visible ruler, the pharaoh. He governed, he desired, he thought
for all, and woe to the man who dared to doubt audibly the all-might of
the sovereign, or mention plans of his own, or even changes in general.

Plans were made in one place alone, in that hall where the pharaoh
listened to advice from his aiding council, and expressed to it his own
opinions. No changes could come save from that place. There burned the
only visible lamp of political wisdom, the light of which illuminated
Egypt. But touching that light, it was safer to be silent.

All these considerations flew through the prince's head with the
swiftness of a whirlwind while he was sitting on the stone bench under
the chestnut-tree in Sarah's garden, and looking at the landscape there
around him.

The water of the Nile had fallen a little, and had begun to grow as
transparent as a crystal. But the whole country looked yet like an arm
of the sea thickly dotted with islands on which rose buildings,
gardens, and orchards, while here and there groups of great trees
served as ornament.

Around all these islands were well-sweeps, with buckets by which
bronze-hued naked men with dirty breech clouts raised water from the
Nile and poured it into higher reservoirs. One such place was in the
prince's mind especially. That was a steep eminence on the side of
which three men were working at three well-sweeps. One poured water
from the river into the lowest well; another drew from the lowest and
raised water two yards higher to a middle place; the third raised water
from the middle to the highest place. There some people, also naked,
drew water in buckets, and irrigated beds of vegetables, or watered
trees from sprinkling-pots.

The movement of the sweeps going down and rising, the turn of the
buckets, the gushing of the pots was so rhythmic that the men who
caused it might be thought automatons. No one of them spoke to his
neighbor, no man changed place or looked about him; he merely bent and
rose in one single method from daylight until evening, from one month
to another, and doubtless he had worked thus from childhood and would
so work till death took him.

"And creatures such as these," thought the prince, as he looked at
their toil, "desire me to realize their imaginings. What change in the
state can they wish? Is it that he who draws from the lowest well
should go to the highest, or instead of pouring from a bucket should
sprinkle trees with a watering pot?"

Anger rose to his head, and humiliation crushed him because he, the
heir to the throne, thanks to the fables of creatures like those who
nodded all their lives over wells of dirty water, was not now the vice-
pharaoh.

At that moment he heard a low rustle among the trees, and delicate
hands rested on his shoulder.

"Well, Sarah?" asked the prince, without turning his head.

"Thou art sad, my lord. Moses was not so delighted at sight of the
promised land as I was at those words of thine:

"I am coming to live with thee. But Thou art a day and a night here,
and I have not seen thy smile yet. Thou dost not even speak to me, but
goest about in gloom, and at night Thou dost not fondle me, but only
sighest."

"I have trouble."

"Tell me what it is. Grief is like a treasure given to be guarded. As
long as we guard it ourselves even sleep flees away, and we find relief
only when we put some one else to watch for us."

Ramses embraced Sarah, and seated her on the bench at his side.

"When an earth-tiller," said he, smiling, "is unable to bring in all
his crops from the field before the overflow, his wife helps him. She
helps him to milk cows too, she takes out food to the field for him,
she washes the man on his return from labor. Hence the belief has come
that woman can lighten man's troubles."

"Dost Thou not believe this, lord?"

"The cares of a prince," answered Ramses, "cannot be lightened by a
woman, even by one as wise and powerful as my mother."

"In God's name, what are thy troubles? Tell me," insisted Sarah,
drawing up to the shoulder of Prince Ramses. "According to our
traditions, Adam left Paradise for Eve; and he was surely the greatest
king in the most beautiful kingdom."

The prince became thoughtful.

"Our sages also teach," said he, "that man has often abandoned
dignities for woman, but it has not been heard that any man ever
achieved something great through a woman; unless he was a leader to
whom a pharaoh gave his daughter, with a great dowry and high office.
But a woman cannot help a man to reach a higher place or even help him
out of troubles."

"This may be because she does not love as I do," whispered Sarah.

"Thy love for me is wonderful, I know that. Never hast Thou asked for
gifts, or favored those who do not hesitate to seek success even under
the beds of princes' favorites. Thou art milder than a lamb, and as
calm as a night on the Nile. Thy kisses are like perfume from the land
of Punt, and thy embrace as sweet as the sleep of a wearied laborer. I
have no measure for thy beauty, or words for thy attractions. Thou art
a marvel among women; women's lips are rich in trouble and their love
is very costly. But with all thy perfection how canst Thou ease my
troubles? Canst Thou cause his holiness to order a great expedition to
the East and name me to command it? Canst Thou give me the army corps
in Memphis, for which I asked, or wilt thou, in the pharaoh's name,
make me governor of Lower Egypt? Or canst Thou bring all subjects of
his holiness to think and feel as I, his most devoted subject?" Sarah
dropped her hands on her knees, and whispered sadly, "True, I cannot do
those things I can do nothing."

"Thou canst do much. Thou canst cheer me," replied Ramses, smiling. "I
know that Thou hast learned to dance and sing. Take off those long
robes, therefore, which become priestesses guarding fire, and array
thyself in transparent muslin, as Phoenician dancers do. And so dance
and fondle me as they."

Sarah seized his hands and cried with flaming eyes,

"Hast Thou to do with outcasts such as these? Tell me let me know my
wretchedness; send me then to my father, send me to our valley in the
desert. Oh, that I had never seen thee in it!"

"Well, well, calm thyself," said the prince, toying with her hair. "I
must of course see dancers, if not at feasts, at royal festivals, or
during services in temples. But all of them together do not concern me
as much as Thou alone; moreover, who among them could equal thee? Thy
body is like a statue of Isis, cut out of ivory, and each of those
dancers has some defect. Some are too thick; others have thin legs or
ugly hands; still others have false hair. Who of them is like thee? If
Thou wert an Egyptian, all our temples would strive to possess thee as
the leader of their chorus. What do I say? Wert Thou to appear now in
Memphis in transparent robes, the priests would be glad if Thou wouldst
take part in processions."

"It is not permitted us daughters of Judah to wear immodest garments."

"Nor to dance or sing? Why didst Thou learn, then?"

"Our women dance, and our virgins sing by themselves for the glory of
the Lord, but not for the purpose of sowing fiery seeds of desire in
men's hearts. But we sing. Wait, my lord, I will sing to thee."

She rose from the bench and went toward the house. Soon she returned
followed by a young girl with black, frightened eyes, who was bearing a
harp.

"Who is this maiden?" asked the prince. "But wait I have seen that look
somewhere. Ah! when I was here the last time a frightened girl looked
from the bushes at me.'"

"This is Esther, my relative and servant," answered Sarah. "She has
lived with me a mouth now, but she fears thee, lord, so she runs away
always. Perhaps she looked at thee sometime from out the bushes."

"Thou mayst go, my child," said the prince to the maiden, who seemed
petrified, and when she had hidden behind the bushes, he asked,

"Is she a Jewess too? And this guard of thy house, who looks at me as a
sheep at a crocodile?"

"That is Samuel the son of Esdras; he also is a relative. I took him in
place of the black man to whom Thou hast given freedom. But hast Thou
not permitted me to choose my servants?"

"That is true. And so also the overseer of the workmen is a Jew, for he
has a yellow complexion and looks with a lowliness which no Egyptian
could imitate."

"That," answered Sarah, "is Ezechiel, the son of Reuben, a relative of
my father. Does he not please thee, my lord? These are all thy very
faithful servants."

"Does he please me," said the prince, dissatisfied, drumming with his
fingers on the bench. "He is not here to please me, but to guard thy
property. For that matter, these people do not concern me. Sing,
Sarah."

Sarah knelt on the grass at the prince's feet, and playing a few notes
as accompaniment, began,

"Where is he who has no care? Who is he who in lying down to slumber
has the right to say: This is a day that I have spent without sorrow?
Where is the man who lying down for the grave, can say: My life has
passed without pain, without fear, like a calm evening on the Jordan.

"But how many are there who moisten their bread with tears daily, and
whose houses are filled with sighing.

"A wail is man's earliest speech on this earth, and a groan his
farewell to it. Full of suffering does he come into life, full of
sorrow does he go to his resting-place, and no one asks him where he
would like to be.

"Where is that offspring of man who has not tasted the bitterness of
being? Is it the child which death has snatched from its mother, or is
it the babe whose mother's breast was drained by hunger ere the little
one could place lips to it?

"Where is the man who is sure of his fate, the man who can look with
unfailing eye at the morrow? Does he who toils on the field know that
rain is not under his power, and that not he shows its way to the
locust swarm? Does the merchant who gives his wealth to the winds,
which come he knows not whence, and his life to the waves on that abyss
which swallows all, and returns nothing?

"Where is the man without dread in his spirit? Is it the hunter who
chases the nimble deer and on the road meets a lion which mocks at his
arrows? Is it the warrior who goes forth to gain glory with toiling,
and meets a forest of sharp lances and bronze swords which are
thirsting for his life blood? Is it the great king who under his purple
puts on heavy armor, who spies out with sleepless eye the treachery of
overpowering neighbors, and seizes with his ear the rustle of the
curtain lest treason overturn him in his own tent?

"For this reason men's hearts in all places and at all times are
overflowing with sadness. In the desert the lion and the scorpion are
his danger, in the cave lurks the dragon, among flowers the poisonous
serpent. In the sunshine a greedy neighbor is thinking how to decrease
his land, in the night the active thief is breaking through the door to
his granary. In childhood he is incompetent, in old age stripped of
strength. When full of power, he is surrounded by perils, as a whale is
surrounded by abysses of water.

"Therefore, O Lord, my Creator, to Thee the tortured human soul turns
itself. Thou hast brought it into a world full of ambushes, Thou hast
grafted into it the terror of extinction. Thou hast barred before it
all roads of peace, save the one road which leads to Thee. And as a
child which cannot walk grasps its mother's skirt lest it fall, so
wretched man stretches forth his hands toward Thy tenderness, and
struggles out of uncertainty."

Sarah was silent; the prince fell into meditation, and then said,

"Ye Jews are a gloomy nation. If men in Egypt believed as thy song
teaches, no one would laugh on the banks of the Nile. The wealthy would
hide in underground temples through terror, and the people, instead of
working, would flee to caves, look out and wait for mercy which would
never come to them.

"Our world is different: in it a man may have everything, but he
himself must do everything. Our gods help no idleness. They come to the
earth only when a hero dares a deed which is superhuman and when he
exhausts every power present. Such was the case with Ramses the Great
when he rushed among two thousand five hundred hostile chariots, each
of which carried three warriors. Only then did Amon the eternal father
reach his hand down and end the battle with victory. But if instead of
fighting he had waited for the aid of your God, long ago would the
Egyptians have been moving along the Nile, each of them bearing a brick
and a bucket, while the vile Hittites would be masters going around
with clubs and papyruses.

"Therefore, Sarah, thy charms will scatter my sorrows sooner than thy
song. If I had acted as your Jewish song teaches, and waited for divine
assistance, wine would have flowed away from my lips, and women would
have fled from my household.

"Above all, I could not be the pharaoh's heir any more than my
brothers, one of whom does not leave his room without leaning on two
slaves, while the other climbs along tree trunks."



CHAPTER XV

THE next day Ramses sent his black men with commands to Memphis, and
about midday came a great boat toward Sarah's house from the direction
of the city. The boat was filled with Greek soldiers in lofty helmets
and gleaming breastplates.

At command sixteen men armed with shields and short darts landed and
stood in two ranks. They were ready to march to the house, when a
second messenger from the prince detained them. He commanded the
soldiers to remain at the shore, and summoned only their leader,
Patrokles.

They halted and stood without movement, like two rows of columns
covered with glittering armor. After the messenger went, Patrokles in a
helmet with plumes, wearing a purple tunic over which he had gilded
armor ornamented on the breast with the picture of a woman's head
bristling with serpents instead of hair.

The prince received the famous general at the garden gate. He did not
smile as usual, did not even answer the low bow of Patrokles, but said
coldly,

"Worthiness, tell the Greek warriors that I will not review them until
their lord, his holiness, appoints me leader a second time. They have
lost that honor by uttering in dramshops shouts worthy of drunkards.
These shouts offend me. I call attention also to this, worthiness, that
the Greek regiments do not show sufficient discipline. In public places
the soldiers of this corps discuss politics and a certain possible war.
This looks like treason to the state. Only the pharaoh and members of
his supreme council may speak of such matters. But we, soldiers and
servants of our lord, whatever position we occupy, may only execute the
commands of our most gracious ruler, and be silent at all times. I beg
thee to communicate these considerations to my regiments, and I wish
all success to thee, worthiness."

"It will be as commanded, worthiness," answered the Greek.

He turned on his heel, and standing erect moved with a rattle toward
the boat. He knew about these discussions of the soldiers in the
dramshops, and understood straightway that something disagreeable had
happened to the heir, whom the troops worshipped. Therefore, when he
had reached the handful of armed men on the bank, he assumed a very
angry mien, and, waving his hands with rage, cried,

"Valiant Greek soldiers! mangy dogs, may the leprosy consume you! If,
from this time on, any Greek mentions the name of the heir to the
throne in a dramshop, I will break a pitcher on his head, cram the
pieces down his throat, and then drive him out of the regiment! One and
another of you will herd swine for Egyptian earth-workers, and hens
will lay eggs in your helmets. Such is the fate waiting for stupid
soldiers who know not how to keep their tongues quiet. And now to the
left! to the rear! turn! and march to the boat, may the plague strike
you! A soldier of his holiness should drink first of all to the health
of the pharaoh and the prosperity of the worthy minister of war,
Herhor, may they live through eternity!"

"May they live through eternity!" repeated the soldiers.

All took their places in the boat, looking gloomy. But when near
Memphis Patrokles smoothed out his wrinkled forehead and commanded them
to sing the song of that priest's daughter who so loved soldiers that
she put a doll in her bed and passed the whole night in the booth of
the sentries. Keeping time to this song, they always marched best, and
moved the oars with most nimbleness.

In the evening another boat approached Sarah's dwelling, out of which
came the chief steward of the prince's property.

Ramses received this official at the garden gate also. Perhaps he did
this through sternness, or perhaps not to constrain the man to enter
the house of his mistress and a Jewess.

"I wished," said the heir, "to see thee and to say that among my people
certain improper conversations circulate concerning decrease of rent,
or something of that kind. I wish those people to know that I will not
decrease rents. But should any man in spite of warnings persist in his
folly and talk about rents, he will receive blows of canes."

"Perhaps it would be better if he paid a fine, an uten or a drachma,
whatever is commanded, worthiness," said the chief steward.

"Yes; but the worst offender might be beaten."

"I make bold to offer a remark, worthiness," said the steward in a low
tone, inclining continually, "that the earth-workers, roused by some
unknown person, really did talk for a time about decrease of rent. But
some days ago they ceased on a sudden."

"In that case we might withhold the blows of canes," said Ramses.

"Unless as preventive means," put in the steward.

"Would it not be too bad to spoil the canes?"

"We shall never lack articles of that sort."

"But with moderation in every case. I do not wish it to go to his
holiness that I torture men without need. For rebellious conversation
we must beat and take fines in money, but when there is no cause for
punishment we may be magnanimous."

"I understand," answered the steward, looking into the eyes of Ramses.

"Let them cry out as much as they like if they do not whisper
blasphemy."

These talks with Patrokles and the steward were reported throughout
Egypt.

After the steward's departure, the prince yawned and looking around
with a tired glance, he said to himself,

"I have done all I could, but now, if I can, I will do nothing."

At that moment, from the direction of the outhouses, low groans and the
sound of frequent blows reached the prince. Ramses turned his head, and
saw that the overseer of the workmen, Ezekiel, son of Reuben, was
beating some subordinate with a cane, pacifying him meanwhile,

"Be quiet! be silent, low beast!"

The beaten workman, lying on the ground, closed his mouth with his hand
so as not to cry.

At first the prince rushed like a panther toward the outhouses.
Suddenly he halted.

"What am I to do?" whispered he. "This is Sarah's place, and the Jew is
her relative."

He bit his lips, and disappeared among the trees, the more readily
since the flogging was finished.

"Is this the management of the humble Jews?" thought Ramses. "Is this
the way? That man looks at me as a frightened dog might, but he beats
the workmen. Are the Hebrews all like him?"

And for the first time the thought was roused in the prince's soul,
that under the guise of kindness Sarah, too, might conceal falsehood.

Certain changes had indeed taken place in Sarah; above all, moral
changes.

From the moment when she met Ramses in the valley of the desert he had
pleased her, but that feeling grew silent immediately beneath the
influence of the stunning news that the shapely youth was a son of the
pharaoh and heir to the throne of Egypt. When Tutmosis bargained with
Gideon to take her to the prince's house, Sarah fell into a state of
bewilderment.

She would not renounce Ramses for any treasure, nor at the cost of
life, but one could not say that she loved him at that time. Love
demands freedom and time to give forth its most beautiful blossoms;
neither freedom nor time had been left to her. She made the
acquaintance of the prince on a certain day; the following day they
took her away almost without consulting her wishes, and bore her to
that villa opposite Memphis. In a couple of days she became the
prince's favorite, astonished, frightened, not understanding what had
taken place with her.

Moreover, before she could make herself used to the new impressions,
the Jewess was disturbed by ill-will from surrounding people; then the
visit of unknown ladies; finally, that attack on the villa.

Then, because Ramses took her part and wished to rush on the rioters,
she was still more terrified. She lost presence of mind at the thought
that she was in the hands of a man of such power and so violent, who,
if it suited him, had the right to shed blood, to slay people.

Sarah fell into despair for the moment: it seemed to her that she would
go mad. She heard the terrible commands of the prince who summoned the
servants to arms. But at that very moment a slight thing took place,
one little word was heard which sobered Sarah, and gave a new turn to
her feelings.

The prince, thinking that she was wounded, drew the bandage from her
head; but when he saw the bruise, he cried,

"That is only a blue spot! How that blue spot changes the face!"

At these words Sarah forgot pain and fear. New alarm seized her: so she
had changed to such a degree that it astonished the prince, but he was
only astonished.

The blue spot disappeared in a couple of days, but feelings unknown up
to that time remained in Sarah's soul and increased there. She began to
be jealous of the prince, and to fear that he would reject her.

And still another anxiety tortured the Jewess. She felt herself a
servant, a slave in respect to Ramses. She was and wished to be his
faithful servant, his devoted slave, as inseparable as his shadow, but
at the same time she desired that he, at least when he fondled her,
should not treat her as though he were lord and master.

She was his indeed, but he was hers also. Why does he not show, then,
that he belonged to her, even in some degree? But with every word and
motion he makes her understand that a certain gulf is between them.
What kind of gulf? Has she not held him in her embraces? Has he not
kissed her lips and bosom?

A certain day the prince came to her with a dog. He stayed only a
couple of hours; but during that entire interval the dog lay at his
feet in Sarah's place, and when she wished to sit there the dog
growled. And the prince laughed and thrust his fingers into the hair of
that unclean creature, as he had into her hair. And the dog looked into
the prince's eyes just as she had, with this difference, perhaps, that
he looked with more confidence.

She could not pacify herself, and she hated the clever beast which was
taking a part of the tenderness due to her, paying no attention
whatever to her, and bearing itself with an intimacy towards its lord
that she did not dare to claim. She would have been unable to have such
an indifferent mien, or to look in another direction if the prince's
hand had rested on her head.

Not long before this incident the prince mentioned dancers a second
time. Then Sarah burst out angrily,

"How did he permit himself to be familiar with those naked, shameless
women? And Jehovah looking down from high heaven did not hurl His
thunders at those monstrous creatures!"

It is true that Ramses told her that she was dearer than all else to
him, but these words did not pacify Sarah; they only produced this
effect, that she determined not to think of aught beyond her love.

What would come on the morrow? Never mind. And when at the feet of the
prince she sang that hymn about those sufferings which pursue mankind
from the cradle to the grave, she described in it the state of her own
soul, and her last hope, which was Jehovah.

That day Ramses was with her; hence she had enough, she had all the
happiness which life could give. But just there began for Sarah the
greatest bitterness.

The prince lived under one roof with her, he walked with her in the
garden, and sometimes went out on the Nile in a boat with her. But he
was not more accessible by the width of one hair than when he was on
the other side of the river, within the limits of the pharaoh's palace.

He was with her, but his mind was in some other place, Sarah could not
even divine where. He embraced her, or toyed with her hair, but he
looked toward the city, at those immense many-colored pylons of the
pharaoh's palace, or at some unknown object.

At times he did not even answer her questions, or he looked at her
suddenly as if roused from sleep, or as if he wondered that he saw her
there beside him.



CHAPTER XVI

THUS seemed those moments of approach between Sarah and her princely
lover, which were rare enough withal. For after he had given those
commands to-Patrokles and the steward, Ramses spent the greater part of
the day away from the villa, generally in a boat or sailing on the
Nile. He caught with a net fish which swam in thousands in the blessed
river, or he went into swamps, and hidden among lofty lotus stems
brought down with arrows wild birds, which circling in noisy flocks
were as numerous as flies are. But even at those times ambitious
thoughts did not desert him; so he turned the hunting into a kind of
predicting or soothsaying. More than once, when he saw a flock of
yellow geese upon the water, he drew his bow and said, "If I hit I
shall be like Ramses the Great."

The arrow made a low whistle, and the stricken bird, fluttering its
wings, gave out cries so painful that there was a movement in the whole
swampy region. Clouds of geese, ducks, and storks rose in the air, and
making a great circle above their dying comrade, dropped down to other
places.

When there was silence again, the prince pushed his boat farther, with
caution guiding himself by the movement of reeds or the broken calls of
birds, and when in the green growth he saw a spot of clear water and a
new flock, he drew his bow again, and said,

"If I hit I shall be pharaoh; if I miss."

This time the arrow struck the water, and bounding a number of times
along its surface, disappeared among lotuses. The excited prince sent
more and more arrows, killing birds or only frightening flocks of them.
From the villa they knew where he was by the noisy cloud of birds which
rose from time to time and circled above the boat in which he was
sailing.

When toward evening he returned to the villa wearied, Sarah waited on
the threshold with a bronze basin, a pitcher of light wine, and a
garland of roses. The prince smiled at her, stroked her face, but
looking into her eyes, which were full of tenderness, he thought,

"Would she beat Egyptian people, like her relatives who look frightened
all the time? Oh, my mother is right not to trust Jews, though Sarah
may be different from others."

Once, returning unexpectedly, he saw in the space before the villa a
crowd of naked children playing joyously. All were yellow, and at sight
of him they vanished with cries like wild geese from a swampy meadow.
Before he reached the terrace they were gone, not a trace was left.

"Who are those little things," asked he, "who rushed away from me?"

"Those are children of my servants," replied Sarah.

"Of Jews?"

"Of my brothers."

"Gods, what a numerous people!" laughed Ramses. "And who is that
again?" added he, pointing to a man who looked timidly from beyond the
wall.

"That is Aod, son of Barak, my relative. He wants to serve thee, lord.
May I take him?"

The prince shrugged his shoulders.

"This is thy place," answered he; "take those who please thee. But if
these people increase so, they will soon master Memphis."

"Thou canst not endure my brethren," whispered Sarah, as she dropped to
his feet frightened.

The prince looked at her with astonishment.

"I do not even think of them," answered he, proudly.

These little happenings, which fell on Sarah's soul like drops of fire,
did not change Ramses with regard to her. He was kind and as fond as he
had been, though his eyes turned more frequently to the other bank of
the river, and rested on the mighty pylons of his father's palace.

Soon he discovered that others were yearning because he was in a
banishment of his own choosing. A certain day from the opposite shore a
stately royal barge pushed out into the river; it crossed the Nile from
Memphis, and then circled near the prince's villa, so near that Ramses
could recognize the persons in it. In fact he recognized beneath the
purple baldachin his mother among court ladies, and opposite, on a low
stool, the vice-pharaoh, Herhor. They did not look toward the villa, it
is true, but the prince divined that they saw him.

"Ha! ha!" thought he. "My worthy mother and his worthiness the minister
would be glad to entice me hence before his holiness returns to
Memphis."

The mouth Tobi (the end of October and beginning of November) came. The
Nile had fallen a distance equaling the stature of a man, and one-half
in addition, uncovering daily new strips of black clammy earth.
Wherever the water withdrew a narrow plough appeared drawn by two oxen.
Behind the plough went a naked ploughman, at the side of he oxen a
driver with a short club, and behind him a sower, who, wading to his
ankles in earth, carried wheat in an apron, and scattered it almost in
handfuls.

The most beautiful season of the year was beginning in Egypt, the
winter. Heat did not go beyond 70 Fahrenheit; the earth was covered
quickly with emerald green, from out which sprang narcissus and
violets. The odor of them came forth oftener and oftener amid the odor
of earth and water.

A number of times the barge bearing the worthy lady Nikotris and the
vice-pharaoh Herhor appeared near Sarah's dwelling. Each time the
prince saw his mother conversing with the minister joyously, and
convinced himself that they refrained ostentatiously from looking
toward him, as if to show indifference.

"Wait!" whispered he, in anger, "I will show you that life does not
annoy me, either."

So when one day, shortly before sunset, the queen's gilded barge
appeared with a purple tent having ostrich plumes on each of its four
comers, Ramses gave command to prepare a boat for two persons, and told
Sarah that he would sail with her.

"O Jehovah!" cried she, clasping her hands. "But thy mother is there,
and the viceroy!"

"But in this boat will be the heir to the throne. Take thy harp,
Sarah."

"And the harp, too?" cried Sarah. "But if her worthiness were to speak
to thee! I should throw myself into the river."

"Be not a child," replied Ramses, laughing. "My mother and his
worthiness love songs immensely. Thou mayest even win their favor if
Thou sing some splendid song of the Hebrews. Let there be love in it."

"I know no song of that kind," answered Sarah, in whom the prince's
words had roused hope of some sort. Her song might please those
powerful rulers, and then what?

On the royal barge they saw that the heir to the throne was sitting in
a simple boat and rowing.

"Dost Thou see, worthiness," whispered the queen to the minister, "that
he is rowing toward us with his Jewess?"

"The heir has borne himself with such correctness toward his warriors
and his people, and has shown so much compunction in withdrawing from
the limits of the palace, that his mother may forgive small errors,"
answered Herhor.

"Oh, if he were not sitting in that boat, I would give command to break
it!" said the worthy lady.

"For what reason?" asked the minister. "The prince would be no
descendant of high priests and pharaohs if he did not break through
restraints which the law, alas, puts on him, or perhaps our mistaken
customs. He has given proof in every case that in serious junctures he
is able to command himself. He is even able to recognize his errors, a
rare power and priceless in an heir to the throne of Egypt. The very
fact that the prince wishes to rouse our curiosity with his favorite
shows that the position in which he finds himself pains him; besides,
his reasons are among the noblest."

"But the Jewess!" whispered the lady, crushing her feather fan between
her fingers.

"At present I am quite at rest regarding her," continued Herhor. "She
is shapely, but dull; she never thinks of using influence on the
prince, nor could she do so. Shut up in a cage which is not over-
costly, she takes no gifts, and will not even see any one. In time,
perhaps, she might learn to make use of her position even to the extent
of decreasing the heir's treasury by some talents. Before that day
comes, however, Ramses will be tired of her."

"May the all-knowing Amon speak through thy mouth," said the lady.

"The prince, I am sure of this, has not grown wild over a favorite, as
happens often to young lords in Egypt. One keen, intriguing woman may
strip a man of property and health, nay, bring him to the hall of
judgment. The prince is amused with her as a grown-up man might be
amused with a slave girl. And Sarah is pregnant."

"Is that true?" cried the queen. "How dost Thou know?"

"It is not known to his worthiness the heir, or even to Sarah," said
Herhor, smiling. "We must know everything. This secret, however, was
not difficult to get at. With Sarah is her relative Tafet, an
incomparable gossip."

"Have they summoned a physician already?"

"Sarah knows nothing of this, I repeat, but the worthy Tafet, from fear
lest the prince might grow indifferent to her foster child, would be
glad to twist the neck of this secret. But we do not let her. That will
be the prince's child also."

"But if it is a son? Thou knowest that he may make trouble," put in the
lady.

"All is foreseen," replied Herhor. "If the child is a daughter, we will
give her a dowry and the education proper for young ladies of high
station. If a son, he will become a Jew."

"Oh, my grandson, a Jew!"

"Do not take thy heart too soon from him. Our envoys declare that the
people of Israel are beginning to desire a king. Before the child
matures their desires will ripen, and then we may give them a ruler,
and of good blood indeed."

"Thou art like an eagle which takes in East and West at a glance," said
the queen, eying the minister with amazement. "I feel that my repulsion
for this maiden begins to grow weaker."

"The least drop of the pharaoh's blood should raise itself above
nations, like a star above the earth," added Herhor.

At that moment the heir's boat moved at a few tens of paces from the
royal barge, and the queen, shielded by her fan, looked at Sarah
through its feathers.

"In truth the girl is shapely," whispered Queen Nikotris.

"Thou art saying those words for the second time, worthy lady."

"So Thou hast noted that?" laughed her worthiness.

Herhor dropped his eyes.

In the boat was heard a harp, and Sarah began a hymn, with trembling
voice,

"How great is Jehovah, O Israel! how great is Jehovah, thy God."

"A most beautiful voice," whispered the queen.

The high priest listened with attention.

"His days have no beginning," sang Sarah, "and His dwelling has no
limit. The eternal heavens change beneath His eye, like a garment which
a man puts on his body and then casts away from him. The stars flash
up, and are quenched, like sparks from fuel, and the earth is like a
brick which a traveler touches once with his foot while going ever
farther.

"How great is thy Lord, O Israel! There is no being who can say to Him,
'Do this!' there is no womb which could have given birth to Him. He
created the bottomless deeps above which He moves when He wishes. He
brings light out of darkness, and from the dust of the earth He creates
living things which have voices.

"For Him savage lions are as locusts, the immense elephant He looks on
as nothing, before Him the whale is as weak as an infant.

"His tricolored bow divides the heavens into two parts and rests on the
ends of the earth plain. Where are the gates which could equal Him in
loftiness? Nations are in terror at the thunder of His chariot, and
there is naught beneath the sun which could stand His flashing arrows.

"His breath is the north wind at midnight, which freshens trees when
withering, His anger is like the chamsin which burns what it touches.

"When He stretches His hands above the waters, they are petrified. He
pours the sea into new places, as a woman pours out leaven. He rends
the earth as if it were old linen, and clothes in silvery snow the
naked tops of mountains.

"In a grain of wheat He hides one hundred other grains, and causes
birds to incubate. From the drowsy chrysalis He leads to life a golden
butterfly, and makes men's bodies wait in tombs until the day of
resurrection."

The rowers, absorbed in the song, raised their oars, and the purple
barge dropped slowly down with the sweep of the river. All at once
Herhor rose, and commanded,

"Turn now toward Memphis!"

The oars fell; the barge turned where it stood, and raised the water
with noise. After it followed Sarah's hymn decreasing gradually,

"He sees the movement of hearts, the silent hidden ways on which pass
the innermost thoughts in men's breasts. But no man can gaze into His
heart and spy out His purposes.

"Before the gleam of His garments mighty spirits hide their faces.
Before His glance the gods of great cities and nations turn aside and
shrink like withering leaves.

"He is power, He is life, He is wisdom. He is thy Lord, thy God, O
Israel!"

"Why command, worthiness, to turn away our barge?" asked the worthy
Nikotris.

"Lady, dost Thou know that hymn?" asked Herhor, in a language
understood by priests alone. "That stupid girl is singing in the middle
of the Nile a prayer permitted only in the most secret recesses of our
temples."

"Is that blasphemy then?"

"There is no priest in the barge except me," replied the minister. "I
have not heard the hymn, and if I had I should forget it. Still I am
afraid that the gods will lay hands on that girl yet."

"But whence does she know that awful prayer, for Ramses could not have
taught it to her?"

"The prince is not to blame. But forget not, lady, that the Jews have
taken from our Egypt many such treasures. That is why, among all
nations on earth, we consider them alone as sacrilegious."

The queen seized the hand of the high priest.

"But my son will no evil strike him?" whispered she, looking into his
eyes.

"I say, worthiness, that no evil will happen to any one. I heard not
the hymn, and I know nothing. The prince must be separated from that
Jewess."

"But separated mildly; is that not the way?" asked the mother.

"In the mildest way possible and the simplest, but separation is
imperative. It seemed to me," continued the high priest, as if to
himself, "that I foresaw everything. Everything save an action for
blasphemy, which threatens the heir while he is with that strange
woman."

Herhor thought awhile, and added,

"Yes, worthy lady! It is possible to laugh at many of our prejudices;
still the son of a pharaoh should not be connected with a Jewess."



CHAPTER XVII

SINCE the evening when Sarah sang in the boat, the royal barge had not
appeared on the Nile, and Prince Ramses was annoyed in real earnest.

The month Mechir (December) was approaching. The waters decreased, the
land extended more widely each day, the grass became higher and
thicker, and in the grass flashed up flowers of the most varied hues
and of incomparable odor. Like islands in a green sea appeared, in the
course of a single day, flowery places, as it were white, azure,
yellow, rosy, or many colored carpets from which rose an intoxicating
odor. Still the prince was wearied, and even feared something. From the
day of his father's departure he had not been in the palace, and no one
from the palace had come to him, save Tutmosis, who since the last
conversation had vanished like a snake in the grass. "Whether they
respected the prince's seclusion, or desired to annoy him, or simply
feared to pay him a visit because he had been touched by disfavor,
Ramses had no means of knowing.

"My father may exclude me from the throne, as he has my elder
brothers," thought the heir sometimes; and sweat came out on his
forehead, while his feet became cold.

"What would he do in that case?"

Moreover Sarah was ill, thin, pale, her great eyes sank; at times she
complained of faintness which attacked her in the morning.

"Surely some one has bewitched the poor thing," groaned the cunning
Tafet, whom the prince could not endure for her chattering and very bad
management.

A couple of times, for instance, the heir noticed that in the evening
Tafet sent off to Memphis immense baskets with food, linen, even
vessels. Next day she complained in heaven-piercing accents that flour,
wine, and even vessels were lacking. Since the heir had come to the
villa ten times more of various products had been used there than
formerly.

"I am certain," thought Ramses, "that that chattering termagant robs me
for her Jews, who vanish in the daytime but are prowling around in the
night, like rats in the nastiest comers!"

The prince's only amusement in these days was to look at the date
harvest. A naked man took his place at the foot of a high palm without
side branches, surrounded the trunk and himself with a circular rope
which resembled the hoop of a barrel. Then he raised himself on the
tree by his heels, his whole body bent backward, but the hoop-like rope
held him by squeezing his body to the tree. Next he shoved the flexible
hoop up the trunk some inches, raised himself by his heels again, then
shoved the rope up. In this way he climbed, exposed meanwhile to the
peril of breaking his neck, till he reached the top, where grew a crown
of great leaves and dates.

The prince was not alone when he saw these gymnastics; Jewish children
also were spectators. At first there was no trace of them. Then among
bushes and from beyond the wall curly heads and black gleaming eyes
appeared. Afterward, when they saw that the prince did not drive them
away, these children came out each from a hiding-place and approached
the tree gradually. The most daring among the girls picked up a
beautiful date which she brought to Ramses. One of the boys ate the
smallest date, and then the children began to eat and to give the
prince fruit. At first they brought him the best, then inferior dates,
finally some that were spoilt altogether.

The future ruler of the world fell to thinking, and said to himself,

"They crawl in at all points, and will treat me always in this way:
they will give the good as a bait, and what is spoiled out of
gratitude."

He rose and walked away gloomily; but the children of Israel rushed,
like a flock of birds, at the labor of the Egyptian, who high above
their heads was singing unmindful of his bones and of this, that he was
harvesting not for his own use.

Sarah's undiscovered disease, her frequent tears, her vanishing charms,
and above all the Jews, who, ceasing to hide, managed the place with
increasing tumult, disgusted Ramses to the utmost degree with that
beautiful comer. He sailed no more in a boat, he neither hunted nor
watched the date harvest, but wandered gloomily through the garden, or
looked from his roof at the palace. He would never go back to that
palace unless summoned, and now he thought of a trip to his lands near
the sea, in Lower Egypt.

In such a state of mind was he found by Tutmosis, who on a certain day
came in a ceremonial barge to the heir with a summons from the pharaoh.

"His holiness is returning from Thebes, and wishes the heir to go forth
and meet him."

The prince trembled, he grew pale and crimson, when he read the
gracious letter of his lord and ruler. He was so moved that he did not
notice his adjutant's new immense wig, which gave out fifteen different
perfumes, he did not see his tunic and mantle, more delicate than mist,
nor his sandals with gold rings as ornaments.

After some time Ramses recovered, and inquired without looking at
Tutmosis,

"Why hast Thou not been here for such a period? Did the disfavor into
which I have fallen alarm thee?"

"Gods!" cried the exquisite. "When wert Thou in disfavor, and in whose?
Every courier of his holiness inquired for thy health; the worthy lady,
Nikotris, and his worthiness Herhor have sailed toward this villa
repeatedly, thinking that Thou wouldst make a hundred steps toward them
after they had made a couple of thousand toward thee. I say nothing of
the troops. In time of review the warriors of thy regiments are as
silent as palm-trees, and do not go from the barracks. As to the worthy
Patrokles, he drinks and curses all day from vexation."

So the prince had not been in disfavor, or if he had been the disfavor
was ended. This thought acted on Ramses like a goblet of good wine. He
took a bath quickly, anointed his body, put on fresh linen, a new
kaftan, a helmet with plumes, and then went to Sarah.

Sarah screamed when she saw the prince arrayed thus. She rose up, and
seizing him around the neck, whispered,

"Thou art going, my lord! Thou wilt not come back to me."

"Why not?" wondered the heir. "Have I not gone away often and returned
afterward?"

"I remember thee dressed in just this way over there in our valley,"
said Sarah. "Oh, where are those hours! So quickly have they passed,
and so long is it since they vanished."

"But I will return and bring the most famous physician."

"What for?" inquired Tafet. "She is well, my dear chick she needs only
rest. But Egyptian physicians would bring real sickness."

The prince did not look at the talkative woman.

"This was my pleasantest month with thee," said Sarah, nestling up to
Ramses, "but it has not brought happiness."

The trumpets sounded on the royal barge, repeating a signal given
higher up on the river.

Sarah started.

"Dost Thou hear, lord, that terrible outburst? Thou hearest and
smilest, and, woe to me, Thou art tearing away from my embraces. When
trumpets call nothing can hold thee, least of all thy slave, Sarah."

"Wouldst them have me listen forever to the cackling of hens in the
country?" interrupted the prince, now impatient. "Be well, and wait for
me joyously."

Sarah let him go from her grasp, but she had such a mournful expression
that Ramses grew mild and stroked her.

"Only be calm. Thou fearest the sound of our trumpets. But were they
ill-omened the first day?"

"My lord," answered Sarah, "I know that over there they will keep thee,
so grant me this one, this last favor. I will give thee," continued
she, sobbing, "a cage of pigeons. They were hatched out and reared
here; hence, as often as Thou rememberest thy servant, open the cage
and set one of them free; it will bring me tidings of thee, and I will
kiss and fondle it as as But go now!"

The prince embraced her and went to the barge, telling his black
attendant to wait for the pigeons.

At sight of the heir, drums and fifes sounded, and the garrison raised
a loud shout of welcome. When he found himself among warriors, the
prince drew a deep breath, and stretched out his arms, like a man
liberated from bondage.

"Well," said he to Tutmosis, "women have tormented me, and those Jews O
Cyrus! command to roast me on a slow fire at once, but put me not in
the country a second time."

"So it is," confirmed Tutmosis; "love is like honey. It must be taken
by sips, a man must not swim in it. Brr! shudders pass over me when I
think that Thou hast passed nearly two months fed on kisses in the
evening, dates in the morning, and asses' milk at midday."

"Sarah is a very good girl," said Ramses.

"I do not speak of her, but of those Jews who have settled down at that
villa like papyrus in swamp land. Dost Thou see, they are looking out
at thee yet, and perhaps are sending greetings," said the flatterer.

The prince turned to another side with displeasure, and Tutmosis winked
joyfully at the officers, as if to tell them that Ramses would not
leave their society very soon this time.

The higher they ascended the Nile the denser on both banks were
spectators, the more numerous were boats on the river, and the more did
flowers, garlands, and bouquets float down; these had been thrown at
the barge of the pharaoh.

About five miles above Memphis there were multitudes of people with
banners, with statues of gods, and with music; an immense roar was
heard, like the sound of a tempest.

"There is his holiness!" cried Tutmosis, delighted.

One spectacle was presented to the eyes of the onlookers: in the middle
of a broad bend in the river sailed the great barge of the pharaoh,
rising in front like the breast of a swan. At the right and left sides
of it, like two giant wings, pushed forward the countless boats of his
subjects, and in the rear, like a rich fan, stretched the retinue of
the ruler of Egypt.

Every one living shouted, sang, clapped hands, and threw flowers at the
feet of the lord whom no one even saw. It was enough that under that
gilded canopy and those ostrich plumes waved a ruddy blue flag,
denoting that the pharaoh was present.

The people in the boats were as if drunk, the people on the shore as if
mad. Every moment some boat struck or overturned a boat and some man
fell into the water, out of which luckily the crocodiles had fled,
frightened by the unparalleled uproar. On the banks men ran into one
another, for no one paid heed to his neighbor, his father, or his
child, but fixed his wild eyes on the gilded beak of the barge and the
tent of the pharaoh. Even people who were trampled, whose ribs the wild
crowd broke stupidly, and whose joints they put out, had no cry save
this,

"May he live through eternity, O our ruler! Shine on, Thou the sun of
Egypt!"

The madness of greeting spread to the barge of Ramses: officers,
soldiers, and oarsmen pressed into one throng and strove to outshout
one another. Tutmosis, forgetting the heir to the throne, clambered up
on the prow, and almost flew into the water.

Meanwhile a trumpet sounded from the pharaoh's barge, and soon after
one answered from the barge of Ramses. A second signal, and the barge
of the heir touched the great barge of the pharaoh.

Some official called to Ramses. From barge to barge they extended a
gangway of cedar with carved railings, and the prince found himself
next in the embrace of his father.

The presence of the pharaoh, or the storm of shouts roaring about him,
so stunned Prince Ramses that he could not utter a syllable. He fell at
his father's feet, and the lord of the world pressed the heir to his
sacred bosom.

A moment later the side walls of the tent rose, and all the people on
both banks of the Nile saw their ruler on a throne, and on the high
step of it Ramses kneeling, with his head on the breast of his father.

Such silence followed that the rustling of banners on the barges was
audible. Then on a sudden burst forth one immense roar, greater than
all which had preceded. With this the Egyptian people honored the
reconciliation of son and father; they greeted their present, and
saluted their future ruler.

If any man had reckoned on dissensions in the sacred family of the
pharaoh, he might convince himself then that the new royal branch held
to its parent trunk firmly.

His holiness looked very ill. After the tender greeting of his son, he
commanded him to sit at the side of the throne.

"My soul was rushing forth toward thee, Ramses," said he, "and all the
more ardently the better were the tidings which I had of thee. Today I
see not only that Thou hast the heart of a lion, but that Thou art a
man full of prudence, who knows how to estimate his own acts, who is
able to restrain himself, and who feels for the interests of Egypt."

When the prince, filled with emotion, was silent and kissed his
father's feet, the pharaoh continued,

"Thou hast done well to renounce command of the Greek regiments,
because from this day the corps in Memphis is thine, Thou art its
commander."

"My father!" whispered the heir, trembling.

"Besides, in Lower Egypt, which is open on three sides to attacks of
hostile nations, I need a wise, active man, who will watch all things
round him, weigh them well in his heart, and act promptly. For this
reason I appoint thee my lieutenant in that half of the kingdom."

Abundant tears flowed from the prince's eyes. With those tears he bade
farewell to his youth; be greeted power, to which his soul had turned
for years with uncertainty and longing.

"I am now weak and wearied," said the ruler, "and were it not for
anxiety touching thy youth and the future of Egypt, I would this day
beg my deathless ancestors to call me to their glory. Each day is for
me more difficult, and therefore, Ramses, Thou wilt begin to share the
burden of rule with me. As a hen teaches her chicks to search out
grains of corn and hide before the hawk, so I will teach thee that
toilsome art of ruling a state and watching the devices of enemies. May
Thou fall on them in time, like an eagle on timid partridges."

The pharaoh's barge and its well-ordered retinue had descended to a
point opposite the palace. The wearied ruler took a seat in his litter,
and at that moment Herhor approached Ramses.

"Permit me, worthy prince," said he, "to be the earliest among those
who are delighted with thy elevation. May Thou lead the army with as
much success as Thou shalt govern the most important part of the state
to the glory of Egypt."

Ramses pressed his hand firmly.

"Didst Thou do this, O Herhor?" asked he.

"It belonged to thee," replied the minister.

"Thou hast my gratitude, and wilt see that it is of value."

"Thou hast rewarded me already in speaking thus," replied Herhor.

The prince wished to depart; Herhor detained him.

"A brief word. Be careful, O heir, that one of thy women, Sarah, does
not sing religious hymns."

When Ramses looked at him with astonishment, he added,

"During our sail on the Nile that maiden sang our most sacred hymn, a
hymn to which only the pharaoh and high priests have the right to
listen. Poor child! she might have suffered for her skill and for her
ignorance of what she was singing."

"Then has she committed sacrilege?" inquired Ramses, in confusion.

"Yes, unconsciously," answered Herhor. "It is lucky that I was the only
man who understood it, and my decision is that between that song and
our hymn the resemblance is remote. In every case let her never repeat
it."

"Well, and should she purify herself?" asked the prince. "Will it
suffice her, as a foreign woman, if she gives thirty cows to the temple
of Isis?"

"Yes, let her give them," replied Herhor, with a slight grimace. "The
gods are not offended by gifts."

"Do thou, noble lord," said Ramses, "be pleased to accept this
miraculous shield, which I received from my sacred grandfather."

"I? the shield of Amenhotep?" exclaimed the minister, with emotion. "Am
I worthy of it?"

"By thy wisdom Thou art equal to my grandfather, and Thou wilt equal
him in position."

Herhor made a low bow in silence. That golden shield set with precious
stones, besides its great value in money, had moreover the virtue of an
amulet; hence it was a regal present.

But the prince's words might have the loftier meaning that Herhor would
equal Amenhotep in position. Amenhotep had been the father-in-law of a
pharaoh. Had the heir decided already to marry Herhor's daughter?

That was the fond dream of Queen Nikotris and the minister. But it must
be acknowledged that Ramses in speaking of the future dignities of
Herhor had not thought in the least of marrying his daughter, but of
giving him new offices, of which there was a multitude at the court and
in the temples.



CHAPTER XVIII

FROM the day that he became viceroy of Lower Egypt a life unparalleled
in troubles set in for Ramses, such a life as he had not even imagined,
though born and reared in the pharaoh's palace.

People simply tortured him; his torturers were persons who had
interests of various kinds and who were of various social classes.

On the very first day, at sight of the throngs of people, who crowded
and pushed one another with eagerness, trampled his lawns, broke his
trees, and injured even the wall which enclosed his villa, the heir
demanded a guard for protection. But on the third day he was forced to
flee from his own dwelling to the precincts of the palace proper,
where, because of numerous sentries and above all because of high
walls, access to him was made difficult.

During the ten days which preceded his departure, representatives of
all Egypt, if not of the whole world of that period, passed before the
eyes of the new viceroy.

First of all were admitted great personages. Hence to congratulate him
came the high priests of temples, ministers, ambassadors, Phoenician,
Greek, Hebrew, Assyrian, Nubian, men whose dresses even he could not
remember. Next came the chiefs of neighboring provinces, judges,
secretaries, the higher officers of the army corps in Memphis, and
landowners.

These people desired nothing, they simply expressed their delight at
honor shown him. But the prince, while listening to these persons from
morning till midday and from midday till evening, felt confusion in his
head, and a quivering in all his members.

After these came representatives of the lower classes with gifts:
merchants bringing gold, foreign stuffs, amber, fruits, and perfumes.
Then bankers and men who loaned money for interest. Further, architects
with plans for new buildings, sculptors with projects for statues and
carvings in relief, masons, potters, makers of ordinary and ornamental
furniture, blacksmiths, founders, tanners, wine-merchants, weavers,
even dissectors who opened the bodies of the departed.

The procession of those men rendering homage had not finished when an
army of petitioners approached the viceroy. Invalids, widows, and
orphans of officers requested pensions; noble lords required court
offices for their sons. Engineers presented new methods of irrigating
Egypt; physicians offered means against diseases of all sorts;
soothsayers offered horoscopes. Relatives of prisoners petitioned to
lessen punishments; those condemned to death begged for life; the sick
implored the heir to touch them, or to bestow on them his spittle.

Finally, beautiful women announced themselves, the mothers of stately
daughters begging the heir humbly but insistently to receive them into
his mansion. Some indicated the amount of the pension demanded,
praising their virginity and their talents.

After ten days of looking every moment at new persons and faces, and
hearing petitions which only the possession of a world and divine power
to dispense it could satisfy, Prince Ramses was exhausted. He could not
sleep; he was so excited that the buzz of a fly pained his nerves, and
at moments he did not understand what people said when they talked to
him.

In this position Herhor came again to assist the viceroy. He commanded
to inform the wealthy that the prince would not receive any more
persons on questions of interest; and against common people, who, in
spite of repeated invitations to disperse, were still waiting, he sent
a company of Numidians with clubs. These succeeded with incomparably
more ease than Ramses in meeting popular wishes, for before an hour had
passed the petitioners had vanished from the square, like mist, while
one and another of them for a couple of succeeding days poured water on
their heads, or other bruised parts of their bodies.

After this trial of supreme power the prince felt profound contempt for
men and became apathetic. He lay two days on a couch with his hands
beneath his head gazing vacantly at the ceiling. He did not wonder that
his sacred father passed his time at the altars of the gods, but he
could not understand how Herhor was able to manage the avalanche of
business, which, like a storm, not only surpassed the strength of a
man, but might even crush him.

"How carry out plans in this case when a throng of petitions fetter our
will, devour our thoughts, drink our blood? At the end of ten days I am
sick, at the end of a year I should be an idiot. In this office it is
impossible to carry out any plan; a man can just defend himself from
madness."

He was so alarmed by his weakness in the position of ruler that he
summoned Herhor, and with a complaining voice told of his suffering.

The statesman listened with a smile to the complaints of the young
steersman of the ship of state, and at last said in answer,

"Knowest thou, lord, that this immense palace in which we dwell was
reared by one architect, named Senebi, who moreover died before it was
finished? And to a certainty Thou wilt understand how this famous
architect could carry out his plan without weariness and be always in a
cheerful temper."

"I am curious."

"Well, he did not do everything himself; he did not hew the beams or
cut the stones, he did not make the bricks, he did not carry them to
the scaffolding. He did not lay them into the wall and fasten them
together. He only drew the plan, and moreover he had assistants. But
thou, prince, hadst the wish to do all things thyself, to listen in
person and transact every business. That goes beyond human strength."

"How should I do otherwise if among petitioners there are some who have
suffered without cause, or if there is unrewarded service? Of course
the foundation of the state is justice."

"How many canst Thou hear in a day without weariness?" asked Herhor.

"Well, twenty."

"Thou art happy. I hear at the most six or ten, but they are not
interested in the petitions, they are chief secretaries, overseers, and
ministers. These men report to me no details, only the most important
things that are done in the army, on the estates of the pharaoh, in
questions of religion, in the courts, in the provinces, and touching
movements of the Nile. Therefore they report no trivial matter, because
each man before he comes to me must hear ten inferior secretaries. Each
inferior secretary and overseer collected information from ten sub-
secretaries and sub-inspectors, and they in their turn have heard
reports from ten officials who are under them. In this manner I and his
holiness speaking with only ten people daily know all that is most
important in a hundred thousand points of Egypt and the world beyond
it.

"The watchman in charge of one part of a street in Memphis sees only a
few houses. A decurion of ten policemen knows the whole street, a
centurion a division of the city, the chief knows all the city. The
pharaoh stands above them all, as if he were standing on the highest
pylon of the temple of Ptah, and sees not only Memphis, but the cities,
Sochem, On, Cheran, Turra, Tetani, with their suburbs, and a portion of
the western desert.

"From that height his holiness is unable, it is true, to see the people
who are wronged, or those who are unrewarded, but he is able to see the
crowd of laborers who have collected without work. He cannot see
warriors in the dramshops, but he can know what regiment is exercising.
He cannot see what a given earth-tiller or citizen is preparing for
dinner, but he can see a fire beginning in a given quarter of the city.

"This order in the state," continued Herhor, with growing animation,
"is our strength and glory. Snofru, a pharaoh of the first dynasty,
asked a certain priest what monument he should rear to himself.

"'Draw on the earth, O lord,' replied the priest, 'a square, and put on
it six million unhewn stones; they will represent the people. On that
foundation place sixty thousand hewn stones; they will be the lower
officials. On them place six thousand polished stones; they will be thy
higher officials. On these put sixty covered with carvings; those will
be thy most intimate counselors and chief leaders, and on the summit
place one monolith with its pedestal and the golden image of the sun;
that will be thyself.'

"The Pharaoh Snofru followed that advice. Thus rose the oldest pyramid,
the step pyramid, a tangible image of our state; from that pyramid all
others had their origin. Those are immovable buildings, from the
summits of which the rim of the world is visible, and they will be a
marvel to the remotest generations.

"In this system resides our superiority over all neighbors. The
Ethiopians were as numerous as we, but their king himself took care of
his own cattle, and beat his own subjects with a club; he knew not how
many subjects he had, nor was he able to collect them when our troops
invaded his country. There was not a united Ethiopia, but a great crowd
of unorganized people. For that reason they are our vassals at present.

"The Prince of Libya judges all disputes himself, especially among the
wealthy, and gives so much time to them that he cannot attend to his
own business. So at his side whole bands of robbers rise up; these we
exterminate.

"Were there in Phoenicia a single ruler who knew what was happening and
who commanded in all parts, that country would not pay us one uten of
tribute. But what a happiness for us that the kings of Nineveh and
Babylon have each only one minister, and are tormented with the onrush
of business as Thou art this day. They wish to see, judge, and command
everything; hence the affairs of their states are entangled for a
century to come. But were some insignificant scribe to go from Egypt to
those kings, explain their errors of management, and give them our
official system, our pyramid, in a year's time Judaea and Phoenicia
would fall into the hands of the Assyrians, and in a few tens of years
powerful armies, coming from the East and the North by laud and by sea,
would hurl themselves on us, armies which we might not be able to
vanquish."

"Therefore let us fall on them today and take advantage of their want
of order," cried Ramses.

"We are not cured yet of previous victories," answered Herhor, coldly;
and he began to take leave of the viceroy.

"Have victories weakened us?" burst out the heir. "Or have we not
brought home treasures?"

"But does not the axe with which we cut wood become blunted?" inquired
Herhor; and he went out.

The prince understood that the great minister wished peace at all
costs, in spite of the fact that he was chief of the armies.

"We shall see," whispered Ramses to himself.

A couple of days before his departure Ramses was summoned to his
holiness. The pharaoh was sitting in an armchair in a marble hall; no
other person was present, and the four entrances were guarded by Nubian
sentries.

At the side of the royal armchair was a stool for the prince, and a
small table covered with documents written on papyrus. On the walls
were colored bas-reliefs showing the occupations of field-workers, and
in the comers of the hall were ungraceful statues of Osiris smiling
pensively.

When the prince at command of his father sat down, his holiness spoke
to him,

"Here, my son, are thy documents as leader and viceroy. Well, have the
first days of power wearied thee?"

"In thy service, holiness, I shall find strength."

"Flatterer!" said the pharaoh, smiling. "Remember that I do not require
overwork on thy part. Amuse thyself; youth needs recreation. This does
not mean, however, that Thou art not to have important affairs to
manage."

"I am ready."

"First I will disclose my cares to thee. Our treasury has a bad aspect;
the inflow of revenue decreases yearly, especially in Lower Egypt, and
expenditures are rising."

The pharaoh fell to thinking.

"Those women those women, Ramses, they swallow up the wealth, not of
mortal men only, but my wealth. I have some hundreds of them, and each
woman wishes to have as many maids as possible, as many dressmakers,
barbers, slaves, slaves for her litter, slaves for her chamber, horses,
oarsmen, even her own favorites and their children Little children!
When I was returning from Thebes one of those ladies, whom I do not
even remember, ran into my road and, showing a sturdy boy of three
years, desired that I should designate for him a property, since he
was, as she said, a son of mine. My son, and three years of age. Canst
Thou understand this? The affair was simple. I could not argue with a
woman, besides, in such a delicate question. But for a man of noble
birth it is easier to be polite than find money for every fancy of that
sort."

He shook his head and continued,

"Meanwhile incomes since the beginning of my reign have decreased one-
half, especially in Lower Egypt. I ask what this means. They answer:
people have grown poor, many citizens have disappeared, the sea has
covered a certain extent of land on the north, and the desert on the
east, we have had a number of bad harvests; in a word, tale follows
tale while the treasury becomes poorer and poorer. Therefore I beg thee
to explain this matter. Look about, learn to know well-informed men who
are truthful, and form of them an examining commission. When they begin
to report, trust not over-much to papyrus, but verify here and there in
person. I hear that Thou hast the eye of a leader; if that be true, one
glance will tell thee how accurate the statements of the commission
are. But hasten not in giving thy opinion, and above all, do not herald
it. Note down every weighty conclusion which conies to thy head on a
given day, and when a few days have passed reexamine that question and
note it down a second time. This will teach thee caution in judgment
and accuracy in grasping subjects."

"It will be as Thou commandest," replied the prince.

"Another mission which Thou must accomplish is truly difficult.
Something is happening in Assyria which begins to alarm my government.
Our priests declare that beyond the Northern sea stands a pyramidal
mountain covered with green at its base and with snow on the summit.
This mountain has marvelous qualities. After many years of quiet it
begins all at once to smoke, roar, and tremble, and then it hurls out
as much liquid fire as there is water in the Nile. This fire, which
flows down its sides in various directions and over an immense stretch
of country, ruins the labor of earth-tillers.

"Well, Assyria is a mountain of that sort. For whole ages calm and
quiet reign in that region, till all on a sudden a tempest bursts out
there, great armies pour forth from it and annihilate peaceful
neighbors. At present around Nineveh and Babylon seething is audible:
the mountain is smoking. Thou must learn therefore how far that smoke
indicates an outburst, and think out means of precaution."

"Shall I be able to do so?" asked the prince, in a low voice.

"Thou must learn to observe. If Thou hast the wish to learn anything
well, be not satisfied with the witness of thy own eyes, but strengthen
thyself with the aid of a number of others. Confine not thyself to the
judgment of Egyptians alone, for each people, each man has a special
way of looking at subjects, and neither one grasps the whole truth in
any question. Listen therefore to what the Phoenicians, the Hebrews,
the Hittites, and the Egyptians think of the Assyrians, and weigh in
thy own heart with care all that agrees in their judgments concerning
Assyria. If all tell thee that danger is coming from that point, Thou
wilt know that it is coming; but if different men speak variously, be
on thy guard also, for wisdom commands us to look for less good and
more evil."

"Thy speech is like that of the gods," whispered the heir of Egypt,

"I am old, and from the height of the throne things are seen of which
mortal men have not even a suspicion. Wert Thou to inquire of the sun
what he thinks of this world's affairs, he would tell thee things still
more curious."

"Among the people from whom I am to gain knowledge of Assyria, Thou
hast not mentioned the Greeks, O father," put in Ramses.

The pharaoh nodded, and said with a kindly smile,

"The Greeks! oh, the Greeks! A great future is in store for that
people. In comparison with us they are in childhood, but what a spirit
is in them!

"Dost remember my statue made by a Greek sculptor? That is my second
self, a living person! I kept it a month in the palace, but at last I
gave it to the temple in Thebes. Wilt Thou believe, fear seized me lest
that stone should rise from its seat and claim one-half of the
government. What a disorder would rise then in Egypt!

"The Greeks! Hast Thou seen the vases which they make, the palaces
which they build? From that clay out there and from stone something
comes that delights my old age and forbids me to think of my
feebleness.

"And their language! O gods, it is music and sculpture and painting. In
truth, I say that if Egypt could ever die as a man dies, the Greeks
would take all its property. Nay more, they would persuade the world
that everything done by us was their work, and that we never existed.
And still they are only the pupils of our primary schools, for, as Thou
knowest, we have no right to communicate the highest knowledge to
foreigners."

"Still, father, it seems that Thou hast no trust in the Greeks."

"No, for they are peculiar; one can trust neither Greek nor Phoenician.
The Phoenician, when he wishes, sees and will tell thee genuine truth
of Egypt, but Thou wilt never know when he is telling it. The Greek, as
simple as a child, would tell the truth always, but he is never able.

"The Greeks look at the world in a manner different altogether from our
way. In their wonderful eyes everything glitters, assumes colors and
changes, as the sky and the water of Egypt. How then could we rely on
their judgment?

"In the days of the Theban dynasty, far away toward the north, was the
little town of Troy. We have in Egypt twenty thousand as large as it.
Various Greek vagrants laid siege to that hamlet, and so annoyed its
few inhabitants that after ten years of trouble they burned their
little fortress and moved to other places. An every-day robber
narrative! Meanwhile just see what songs the Greeks sing of the Trojan
combats. We laugh at those wonders and heroisms, for our government had
accurate information of events there. We see the lies which strike any
one, but still we listen to those songs, as a child does to tales which
its nurse tells, and we cannot tear ourselves free from them.

"Such are the Greeks: born liars, but fascinating; yes, and valiant.
Every man of them would rather die than tell truth. They do not lie for
profit, as do the Phoenicians, but because their mind constrains them."

"Well, what am I to think of the Phoenicians?"

"They are wise people of mighty industry and daring, but hucksters: for
them life means profit, be it great or the greatest. The Phoenicians
are like water: they bring much with them, but bear away much, and push
in at all points. One must give them the least possible, and above all
watch that they enter not through hidden crannies into Egypt. If Thou
pay them well and offer hope of still greater profit, they will be
excellent assistants. What we know today of secret movements in Assyria
we know through Phoenicians."

"And the Jews?" asked the prince, dropping his eyes.

"A quick people, but gloomy fanatics and born enemies of Egypt. Only
when they feel on their necks the iron-shod sandal of the Assyrian,
will they turn to us. May that time not come too late to them! It is
possible to use their services, not here, of course, but in Nineveh and
Babylon."

The pharaoh was wearied now. Hence the prince fell on his face before
him, and when he had received the paternal embrace he went to his
mother.

The lady, sitting in her study, was weaving delicate linen to make
garments for the gods, and her ladies in waiting were sewing and
embroidering robes or making bouquets. A young priest was burning
incense before the statue of Isis.

"I come," said the prince, "to thank thee, my mother, and take
farewell."

The queen rose and putting her arms around her son's neck, said to him
tearfully,

"Hast Thou changed so much? Thou art a man now! I meet thee so rarely
that I might forget thy features did I not see them in my heart every
moment. Thou art unkind. How many times have I gone with the first
dignitary of the state toward thy villa, thinking that at last Thou
wouldst cease to be offended, but Thou didst bring out thy favorite in
my presence."

"I beg thy pardon I beg thy pardon!" said Ramses, kissing his mother.

She conducted him to a garden in which peculiar flowers grew, and when
they were without witnesses, she said,

"I am a woman, so a woman and a mother has interest for me. Dost Thou
wish to take that girl with thee on thy journey? Remember that the
tumult and the movement which will surround thee may harm her, for in
her condition calm and quiet are needed."

"Art Thou speaking of Sarah?" inquired Ramses, astonished. "She has
said nothing to me of that condition."

"She may be ashamed; perhaps she does not herself know," replied the
queen. "In every case the journey."

"I have no intention of taking her!" exclaimed Ramses. "But why does
she hide this from me as if the child were not mine?"

"Be not suspicious," chided the lady. "This is the usual timidity of
young women. Moreover, she may be hiding her condition from fear lest
Thou cast her away from thee."

"For that matter, I shall not take her to my court!" broke out the
prince, so impatiently that the queen's eyes were smiling, but she
covered them with their long lashes.

"It is not well to be over-harsh with a woman who loved thee. I know
that Thou hast given an assured support to her. We will give her
something also. And a child of the royal blood must be reared well, and
have property."

"Naturally," answered Ramses. "My first son, though without princely
rights, must be so placed that I may not be ashamed of him, and he must
not regret separation from me."

After parting with the queen, Ramses wished to go to Sarah, and with
that object returned to his chambers.

Two feelings were roused in him, anger at Sarah for hiding the cause of
her weakness, and pride that he was going to be a father.

He a father! This title gave him an importance which, as it were,
supported his titles of commander and viceroy. Father! that did not
mean a stripling who must look perforce with reverence on older people.

He was roused and enraptured. He wished to see Sarah, to scold, then
embrace her and give her presents.

But when he returned to his part of the palace he found there two
nomarchs from Lower Egypt who had come to report on their provinces,
and when he had heard them out, he was wearied. Besides, he was to hold
an evening reception and did not wish to be late in beginning.

"And again I shall not be with her," thought he. "Poor girl! for twenty
days she has not seen me."

He summoned the negro.

"Hast Thou that cage which Sarah gave thee when we went to greet his
holiness?"

"I have."

"Take a pigeon from it, and let the bird loose."

"The pigeons are eaten."

"Who ate them?"

"Thou. I told the cook that those birds came from the Lady Sarah; so he
made a roast and pies out of them for thee, worthiness."

"May the crocodiles eat you both!" cried the prince, in anger.

He sent for Tutmosis and dispatched him immediately to Sarah. He
explained to him the history of the pigeons, and said,

"Give her emerald earrings, bracelets, anklets, and two talents. Say
that I am angry because she concealed her condition, but that I will
forgive her if the child is healthy and handsome. Should she have a
boy, I will give her another place," finished he, with a smile. "But
but persuade her to put away even a few Jews, and to take even a few
Egyptian men and women. I do not wish my son to be born into such
company; besides, he might play with Jew children. They would teach him
to give his father the worst dates of the harvest."



CHAPTER XIX

THE foreign quarter in Memphis lay on the northeastern extremity of the
city near the river. There were several hundred houses in that place
and many thousand people, Assyrians, Greeks, Jews, most of all,
Phoenicians.

That was a wealthy quarter. A street thirty paces in width formed its
leading artery. This street was rather straight, and paved with flat
stones. On both sides were houses of sandstone, brick, or limestone,
varying in height from three to five stories. In the cellars were
stores of raw materials; on the ground floors were arched rooms; on the
first stories dwellings of wealthy people; higher were the workshops of
weavers, tailors, jewelers; highest of all, the crowded dwellings of
laborers.

The buildings of this quarter, like those in the whole city, were
mainly white; but one might see stone houses as green as a meadow, as
yellow as a wheat-field, as blue as the sky. or as red as blood.

The front walls of many houses were ornamented with pictures
representing the occupations of people who dwelt in them. On the house
of a jeweler long rows of pictures announced that its owner sold to
foreign kings chains and bracelets of his own making which roused their
amazement. The immense palace of a merchant was covered with pictures
representing the labors and perils of a trafficker: on the sea dreadful
monsters with fish tails were seizing the man; in the desert winged
dragons breathing fire were grasping after him, and on distant islands
he was tormented by a giant whose sandals were larger than any ship of
the Phoenicians.

A physician on the wall of his office represented persons who, thanks
to his aid, had recovered lost hands and feet, even teeth and
youthfulness. On a building occupied by a government administrator of
the quarter were to be seen a keg into which people were throwing gold
rings; a scribe into whose ears some one was whispering; an offender,
stretched on the ground, whom two other men were beating.

The street was full. Along the walls stood litter-bearers, men with
fans, messengers and laborers, ready to offer their services. In the
middle of the street moved an unbroken line of merchants' wares carried
by men, asses, or oxen attached to vehicles. On the sidewalks pushed
forward noisy sellers of fresh water, grapes, dates, dried fish, and
among them hucksters, flower-girls, musicians, and tricksters of
various descriptions.

In this torrent of people which flowed forward and separated, in which
men bought and sold, crying out in various tones, policemen were
prominent. Each had a brownish tunic reaching to his knees, bare legs,
an apron with blue and red stripes, a short sword at his side, and a
strong stick in his hand. This official walked along on the sidewalk;
sometimes he conversed with a colleague; most frequently, however, he
stood on a stone at the edge of the street, so as to take in more
accurately the crowd which flowed past in front of him.

In view of such watchfulness street thieves had to do their work
cleverly. Usually two began to fight, and when a crowd had gathered
around them and the police clubbed both spectators and quarrelers,
other confederates in the art did the stealing.

About half-way between the two ends of the street stood the inn of
Asarhadon, a Phoenician from Tyre. In this inn, for easier control, all
were forced to dwell who came from beyond the boundaries of Egypt. It
was a large quadrangular building which on each side had a number of
tens of windows, and was not connected with other houses; hence men
could go around the place and watch it from all points. Over the
principal gate hung the model of a ship; on the front wall were
pictures representing his holiness Ramses XII placing offerings before
the gods, or extending his protection to foreigners, among whom the
Phoenicians were distinguished by a sturdy stature and very ruddy
faces.

The windows were narrow, always open, and only in case of need shaded
by curtains of linen or by colored slats. The chambers of the innkeeper
and of travelers occupied three stories; the ground floor was devoted
to a wine shop and an eating-place. Sailors, carriers, handicraftsmen,
and in general the poorer class of travelers ate and drank in a
courtyard which had a mosaic pavement and a linen roof resting on
columns, so that all guests might be under inspection. The wealthier
and better born ate in a gallery which surrounded the courtyard. In the
courtyard the men sat on the pavement near stones which were used
instead of tables; in the galleries, which were cooler, there were
tables, stools, and armchairs, even low couches, with cushions, on
which guests might slumber.

In each gallery there was a great table on which were bread, meat,
fish, and fruits, also jugs holding several quarts of beer, wine, and
water. Negroes, men and women, bore around food to the guests, removed
empty vessels, and brought from the cellars full pitchers, while
scribes watching scrupulously over the tables noted down carefully each
piece of bread, bulb of garlic, and flagon of water. In the courtyard
two inspectors stood on an elevation with sticks in their grasp; these
men kept their eyes on the servants and the scribes on the one hand,
and on the other by the aid of the sticks they settled quarrels between
the poorer guests of various nations. Thanks to this arrangement thefts
and battles happened rarely; they were more frequent in the galleries
than the courtyard.

The Phoenician innkeeper himself, the noted Asarhadon, a man beyond
fifty, dressed in a long tunic and a muslin cape, walked among the
guests to see if each received what he had ordered.

"Eat and drink, my sons!" said he to the Greek sailors, "for such pork
and beer there is not in all the world as I have. I hear that a storm
struck your ship about Rafia? Ye should give a bounteous offering to
the gods for preserving you. In Memphis a man might not see a storm all
his life, but at sea it is easier to meet lightning than a copper uten.
I have mead, flour, incense for holy sacrifices, and here, in the
corner, stand the gods of all nations. In my inn a man may still his
hunger and be pious for very slight charges."

He turned and went to the gallery among the merchants. "Eat and drink,
worthy lords," incited he, making obeisance. "The times are good. The
most worthy heir may he live for ever! is going to Pi-Bast with an
enormous retinue, but from the upper kingdom a transport of gold has
come, of which more than one of you will win a good portion. I have
partridges, young goslings, fish direct from the river, perfect roast
venison. And what wine they have sent me from Cyprus! May I be turned
into a Jew if a goblet of that luxury is not worth two drachmas, but to
you, my benefactors and fathers, I will give it today for one drachma,
only today, to make a beginning."

"Give it for half a drachma a goblet, and we will taste it," said one
of the merchants.

"Half a drachma!" repeated the host. "Sooner will the Nile flow upward
toward Thebes than I give such sweetness for half a drachma, unless I
do it for thee, Lord Belezis, who art the pearl of Sidon. Hei, slaves!
bring to our benefactors the largest pitcher of wine from Cyprus."

When the innkeeper had walked on, the merchant named Belezis said to
his companions,

"May my hand wither if that wine is worth half a drachma! But never
mind! We shall have less trouble with the police hereafter."

Conversation with guests of all nations and conditions did not prevent
the host from looking at the scribes who noted down food and drink, at
the watchman who stared at the scribes and the servants, and above all
at a traveler who had seated himself on cushions in the front gallery,
with his feet under him, and who was dozing over a handful of dates and
a goblet of pure water. That traveler was about forty years old, he had
abundant hair and beard of raven color, thoughtful eyes, and
wonderfully noble features which seemed never to have been wrinkled by
anger or distorted by fear.

"That is a dangerous rat!" thought the innkeeper, frowning. "He has the
look of a priest, but he wears a dark coat. He has left gold and jewels
with me to the value of a talent, and he neither eats meat nor drinks
wine. He must be a great prophet or a very great criminal."

Two naked serpent tamers came into the courtyard bearing a basket full
of poisonous reptiles, and began their exhibition. The younger one
played on a flute, while the elder wound around his body snakes big and
little, any one of which would have sufficed to drive away guests from
the inn "Under the Ship."

The flute-player gave out shriller and shriller notes; the serpent-
tamer squirmed, foamed at the mouth, quivered convulsively, and
irritated the reptiles till one of them bit him on the hand, another on
the face, while he swallowed alive a third one, the smallest.

The guests and the servants looked at the exhibition of the serpent-
tamer with alarm. They trembled when he irritated the reptiles, they
closed their eyes when they bit him; but when the performer swallowed
one of the snakes, they howled with delight and wonder.

The traveler in the front gallery, however, did not leave his cushions,
he did not deign even to look at the exhibition. But when the tamer
approached for pay, he threw to the pavement two copper utens, giving a
sign with his hand not to come nearer.

The exhibition lasted half an hour perhaps. When the performers left
the courtyard, a negro attending to the chambers of the inn rushed up
to the host and whispered something anxiously. After that, it was
unknown whence, a decurion of the police appeared, and when he had
conducted Asarhadon to a remote window, he conversed long with him. The
worthy owner of the inn beat his breast, clasped his hands, or seized
his head. At last he kicked the black man in the belly, and commanded
him to give the police official a roast goose and a pitcher of Cyprus
wine; then he approached the guest in the front gallery, who seemed to
doze there un brokenly, though his eyes were open.

"I have evil news for thee, worthy lord," said the host, sitting at the
side of the traveler.

"The gods send rain and sadness on people whenever it pleases them,"
replied the guest, with indifference.

"While we were looking at the snake-tamers," continued the host,
pulling at his parti-colored beard, "thieves reached the second story
and stole thy effects, three bags and a casket, of course very
precious."

"Thou must inform the court of my loss."

"Wherefore the court?" whispered the host. "With us thieves have a
guild of their own. We will send for their elder, and value the
effects; Thou wilt pay him twenty per cent of the value and all will be
found again. I can assist thee."

"In my country," replied the guest, "no man compounds with thieves, and
I will not. I lodge with thee, I trusted thee with my property, and
Thou wilt answer."

The worthy Asarhadon began to scratch his shoulder-blades.

"Man of a distant region," continued he, in a lower voice, "ye Hittites
and we Phoenicians are brothers, hence I advise thee sincerely not to
turn to an Egyptian court, for it has only one door, that by which a
man enters, but none by which he goes out."

"The gods can conduct an innocent man through a wall," said the
Hittite.

"Innocent! Who of us in the land of bondage is innocent?" whispered the
host. "Look in that direction; over there that commander of ten
policemen is finishing a goose, an excellent young goose, which I
myself would have eaten gladly. But dost Thou know why, taking it from
my own mouth, I gave that goose to him?"

"It was because the man came to inquire about thee."

When he said this, the Phoenician looked askance at the traveler, who
did not lose calmness for an instant.

"He asked me," continued the host, "that master of ten policemen asked,
'What sort of man is that black one who sits two hours over a handful
of dates?' I replied: 'A very honorable man, the lord Phut.' 'Whence
comes he?' 'From the country of the Hittites, from the city of Harran;
he has a good house there of three stories, and much land.' 'Why has he
come hither?' 'He has come,' I replied, 'to receive five talents from a
certain priest, talents lent by his father.'

"And dost Thou know, worthy lord," continued the innkeeper, "what that
decurion answered? 'Asarhadon,' said he, 'I know that Thou art a
faithful servant of his holiness, Thou hast good food and pure wines;
for this reason I warn thee, look to thyself. Have a care of foreigners
who make no acquaintances, who avoid wine and every amusement, and are
silent. That Phut of Harran may be an Assyrian spy.' The heart died in
the when I heard this. But these words do not affect thee," said he,
indignantly, when he saw that the terrible suspicion of espionage did
not disturb the calm face of the Hittite.

"Asarhadon," said the guest, after a while, "I confided to thee myself
and my property. See to it, therefore, that my bags and my casket are
returned to me, for in the opposite case I shall complain of thee to
that same chief of tea who is eating the goose which was intended for
thee."

"Well, but permit me to pay the thieves only fifteen per cent of the
value of the things," cried the host.

"Thou hast no right to pay."

"Give them even thirty drachmas."

"Not an uten."

"Give the poor fellows even ten drachmas."

"Go in peace, Asarhadon, and beg the gods to return thee thy reason,"
answered the traveler, with the same unchanging calmness.

The host sprang up, panting from anger.

"The reptile!" thought he. "He has not come for a debt simply. He is
doing some business here. My heart tells me that he is a rich merchant,
or maybe an innkeeper who, in company with priests and judges, will
open another inn somewhere near this one. May the first fire of heaven
burn thee! May the leprosy devour thee! Miser, deceiver, criminal from
whom an honest man can make nothing."

The worthy Asarhadon had not succeeded yet in calming himself when the
sounds of a flute and a drum were heard on the street, and after a
while four dancers, almost naked, rushed into the courtyard. The
carriers and sailors greeted them with shouts of delight, and even
important merchants in the galleries looked at them with curiosity and
made remarks on their beauty. The dancers with motions of the hands and
with smiles greeted all the company. One began to play on a double
flute, another accompanied with a drum, and the two others danced
around the court in such fashion that there was hardly a guest whom
their muslin shawls did not strike as they whirled.

Those who were drinking began to sing, shout, and call to the dancers,
while among the common herd a quarrel sprang up which the inspectors
settled with canes. A certain Libyan, angered at sight of the canes,
drew a knife, but two black men seized his arms, took from him some
bronze rings as pay for food, and hurled him out to the street.
Meanwhile one of the dancers remained with the sailors, two went among
the merchants who offered them wine and cakes, and the oldest passed
among the tables to make a collection.

"By the sanctuary of the divine Isis!" cried she, "pious strangers,
give offerings to the goddess who guards all creation. The more you
give the more happiness and blessing will come to you. For the
sanctuary of Mother Isis!"

They threw onto her drum coils of copper wire, sometimes a grain of
gold. One merchant asked if it were permitted to visit her, to which
she nodded with a smile.

When she entered the front gallery, Phut of Harran reached for his
leather bag and took out a gold ring, saying,

"Is tar is a great and good goddess; take this for her sanctuary."

The priestess looked quickly at him and whispered,

"Anael, Sachiel."

"Amabiel, Abalidot," answered the traveler, in the same low tone.

"I see that Thou lovest Mother Isis," said the priestess, aloud. "Thou
must be wealthy and art bountiful, so it is worth while to soothsay for
thee."

She sat down near him, ate a couple of dates, and looking at his hand
began,

"Thou art from a distant region, from Bretor and Hagit. [The spirits of
the northern and eastern parts of the world.]Thou hast had a pleasant
journey. For some days the Phoenicians are watching thee," added she,
in a lower voice.

"Thou hast come for money, though Thou art not a merchant. Visit me
this day after sunset. Thy wishes will be accomplished," said she,
aloud. "They should be accomplished. I live on the Street of Tombs in
the house of the Green Star," whispered she. "But beware of thieves who
are watching for thy property," finished she, seeing that the worthy
Asarhadon was listening.

"There are no thieves in my house!" burst out the Phoenician. "None
steal except those who come from the street."

"Be not angry, old man," replied the priestess, jeeringly, "or a red
line will come out oil thy neck right away; that means an unlucky
death."

When he heard this, Asarhadon spat three times, and in a low voice
repeated a charm against evil predictions. When he had moved away to
the depth of the gallery, the priestess began to coquet with the Harran
man. She gave him a rose from her crown, embraced him at parting, and
went to the other tables.

The traveler beckoned to the host.

"I wish," said he, "that woman to come to me. Give command to conduct
her to my chamber."

Asarhadon looked into his eyes, clapped his hands, and burst out
laughing.

"Typhon has possessed thee, O man of Harran!" cried he. "If anything of
that sort happened in my house with an Egyptian priestess, they would
drive me out of the city. Here it is permissible to receive only
foreign women."

"In that case I will go to her," answered Phut, "for she is a wise and
devout person, and has told me of many happenings. After sunset Thou
wilt give me a guide, so that I may not go astray."

"All the evil spirits have entered thy heart," said Asarhadon. "Dost
Thou know that this acquaintance will cost thee two hundred drachmas,
perhaps three hundred, not counting that which Thou must give the
servants and the sanctuary. For such a sum, or say five hundred
drachmas, Thou mayst make the acquaintance of a young and virtuous
woman, my daughter, who is now fourteen years of age, and like a
prudent girl is collecting for herself a dowry. Do not wander in the
night through a strange city, for Thou wilt fall into the hands of the
police or of thieves, but make use of that which the gods give thee at
home. Dost Thou wish?"

"But will thy daughter go with me to Harran?" inquired Phut.

The innkeeper looked at him with astonishment. All at once he struck
his forehead, as if he had divined a secret, and seizing the traveler
by the hand, he drew him to a quieter place at the window.

"I know all," whispered he, excitedly. "Thou art dealing in women. But
remember that for taking away one Egyptian woman Thou mayst lose thy
property and go to the quarries. But perhaps Thou wilt take me into thy
company, for here I know every road."

"In that case show me the road to the priestess," said Phut. "Remember
that after sunset Thou art to have a guide for me, and to-morrow my
bags and casket, otherwise I shall complain to the court."

Then Phut left the gallery and went to his chamber on a higher story.

Asarhadon with anger approached a table at which Phoenician merchants
were drinking, and called aside one of them named Kush.

"Thou bringest beautiful guests to me!" said he, unable to restrain the
quivering of his voice. "That Phut eats almost nothing, and now, as if
to insult my house, he is going out to an Egyptian dancer instead of
giving presents to my women."

"What wonder in that?" answered Kush, smiling. "He could find a
Phoenician woman in Sidon, but here he prefers an Egyptian. A fool is
he who in Cyprus does not taste Cyprus wine, but Tyrian beer."

"But I say," broke in the host, "that that man is dangerous. He seems
to be a citizen, though he looks like a priest."

"Thou, Asarhadon, hast the look of a high priest, though Thou art only
an innkeeper. A bench does not cease to be a bench, though it has a
lion's skin on it."

"But why does he go to priestesses? I would swear that that is a
pretence, and that this churlish Hittite, instead of going to a feast
with women, is going to some meeting of conspirators."

"Anger and greed have darkened thy reason," answered Kush, with
impatience. "Thou art like a man who looking for melons on a fig-tree
sees not the figs on it. It is clear to any merchant that if Phut is to
collect five talents from a priest he must win favors from all who go
around in the sanctuaries. But Thou hast no understanding."

"My heart tells me that this must be an Assyrian ambassador watching to
destroy his holiness."

Kush looked with contempt on Asarhadon.

"Watch him, then; follow every step of his. If Thou discover anything,
perhaps Thou wilt get some part of his property."

"Oh, now them hast given wise counsel," said the host. "Let that rat go
to the priestesses, and from them to places unknown to me. But I will
send after him my vision, from which nothing will be secret."



CHAPTER XX

About nine in the evening Phut left the inn "Under the Ship" in company
with a negro who carried a torch. Half an hour earlier Asarhadon sent
out a confidential servant, commanding him to observe carefully if the
guest from Harran left the house of the "Green Star," and if so to
follow him.

A second confidential servant went at a certain distance behind Phut;
in the narrower streets he hid among the houses, on the broader ones he
feigned drunkenness.

The streets were empty; carriers and hucksters were sleeping. There was
light only in the houses of artisans who were at work, or in those of
rich people who were feasting on the terraces. In various houses were
heard the sounds of harps and flutes, songs, laughter, the blows of
hammers, the sound of saws in the hands of cabinet makers; at times the
cry of a drunken man, or a call for assistance.

The streets along which Phut and the slave passed were narrow for the
greater part, crooked and full of holes. As they approached the end of
the journey, the stone houses were lower and lower, those of one story
more frequent, and there were more gardens, or rather palms, fig-trees,
and stunted acacias, which, inclining out from between the walls,
seemed to have the intention to escape from their places. On the Street
of Tombs the view changed on a sudden. In place of stone buildings
there were broad gardens, and in the middle of them splendid villas.
The negro stopped before one of the gates and quenched his torch.

"Here is the 'Green Star,'" said he, and, making a low bow to Phut, he
turned homeward.

The man of Harran knocked at the gate. After a while the gatekeeper
appeared. He looked attentively at the stranger, and muttered,

"Anael, Sachiel."

"Amabiel, Abalidot," answered Phut.

"Be greeted," said the gatekeeper; and he opened quickly to the
visitor.

When he had passed some tens of steps between trees, Phut found himself
in the antechamber of the villa, where the priestess whom he knew
greeted him. Farther in stood some man with black beard and hair; so
much like the man of Harran was he, that Phut could not hide his
astonishment.

"He will take thy place in the eyes of those who are spying thee," said
the priestess, smiling.

The man who was disguised as Phut put a garland of roses on his head,
and in company with the priestess went to the first story, where the
sound of flutes and the clatter of goblets were heard soon after.
Meanwhile two inferior priests conducted Phut to a bath in the garden.
After the bath they curled his hair and put white robes on him.

From the bath all three went out again among the trees, passed a number
of gardens, and found themselves in an empty space finally.

"There," said one of the priests, "are the ancient tombs; on that side
is the city, and here the temple. Go whithersoever Thou wishest. May
wisdom point out the road to thee, and sacred words guard thee from
perils."

The two priests went back to the garden, and Phut was in solitude. The
moonless night was rather clear. From afar, covered with mist,
glittered the Nile; higher up gleamed the seven stars of the Great
Bear. Over the head of the stranger was Orion, and above the dark
pylons flamed the star Sirius.

"The stars shine in our land more brightly," thought Phut.

He began to whisper prayers in an unknown tongue, and turned toward the
temple.

When he had gone a number of steps, from one of the gardens a man
pushed out and followed him. But almost at that very moment such a
thick fog fell on the place that it was quite impossible to see aught
save the roofs of the temple.

After a certain time the man of Harran came to a high wall. He looked
up at the sky and began to go westward. From moment to moment night
birds and great bats flew above him.

The mist had become so dense that he was forced to touch the wall so as
not to lose it. The journey had lasted rather long when all at once
Phut found himself before a low door with a multitude of bronze nail
heads. He fell to counting these from the left side on the top; at the
same time he pressed some of them powerfully, others he turned.

When he had pressed the last nail at the bottom, the door opened. The
man of Harran advanced a few steps, and found himself in a narrow niche
where there was utter darkness.

He tried the ground carefully with his foot till he struck upon
something like the brink of a well from which issued coolness. He sat
down then and slipped fearlessly into the abyss, though he found
himself in that place and in Egypt for the first time.

The opening was not deep. Phut stood erect on a sloping pavement, and
began to descend along a narrow corridor with as much confidence as if
he had known the passage for a lifetime.

At the end of the corridor was a door. By groping the stranger found a
knocker, and struck three times with it. In answer came a voice, it was
unknown from what direction.

"Hast thou, who art disturbing in a night hour the peace of a holy
place, the right to enter?"

"I have done no wrong to man, child, or woman. Blood has not stained my
hands. I have eaten no unclean food. I have not taken another's
property. I have not lied. I have not betrayed the great secret,"
answered the man of Harran, calmly.

"Art Thou he for whom we are waiting, or he who in public Thou
declarest thyself to be?" inquired the voice, after a while.

"I am he who was to come from brethren in the East; but that other name
is mine also, and in the northern city I possess a house and land, as I
have told other persons."

The door opened, and Phut walked into a spacious cellar which was
lighted by a lamp burning on a small table before a purple curtain. On
the curtain was embroidered in gold a winged globe with two serpents.

At one side stood an Egyptian priest in a white robe.

"Dost them who hast entered," asked the priest, pointing at Phut, "know
what this sign on the curtain signifies?"

"The globe," answered the stranger, "is an image of the world on which
we live; the wings indicate that it is borne through space like an
eagle."

"And the serpents?" asked the priest.

"The two serpents remind him who is wise that whoso betrays the great
secret will die a double death, he will die soul and body."

After a moment of silence the priest continued,

"If Thou art in real fact Beroes" (here he inclined his head), "the
great prophet of Chaldea" (he inclined his head a second time), "for
whom there is no secret in heaven or on earth, be pleased to inform thy
servant which star is the most wonderful."

"Wonderful is Hor-set, [Jupiter] which encircles heaven in the course
of twelve years; for four smaller stars go around it. But the most
wonderful is Horka, [Saturn] which encircles heaven in thirty years;
for it has subject to it not only stars, but a great ring which
vanishes sometimes."

On hearing this, the Egyptian priest prostrated himself before the
Chaldean. Then he gave him a purple scarf and a muslin veil, indicated
where the incense was, and left the cave with low obeisances.

The Chaldean remained alone. He put the scarf on his right shoulder,
covered his face with the veil, and, taking a golden spoon sprinkled
into it incense, which he lighted at the lamp before the curtain.
Whispering, he turned three times in a circle, and the smoke of the
incense surrounded him with a triple ring, as it were.

During this time a wonderful disturbance prevailed in the cave. It
seemed as if the top were rising and the sides spreading out. The t
purple curtain at the altar quivered, as if moved by hidden fingers.
The air began to move in waves, as if flocks of unseen birds were
flying through it.

The Chaldean opened the robe on his bosom, and drew forth a gold medal
covered with mysterious characters. The cave trembled, the sacred
curtain moved with violence, and little flames appeared in space at
various points.

Then the seer raised his hands and began,

"Heavenly Father, gracious and merciful, purify my spirit. Send down on
Thy unworthy servant a blessing, and extend Thy almighty arm against
rebellious spirits, so that I may manifest Thy power.

"Here is the sign which I touch in thy presence. Here I am I, leaning
on the assistance of that God, the foreseeing and the fearless. I am
mighty, and summon and conjure thee. Come hither with obedience in the
name of Aye, Saraye, Aye Saraye!"

At that moment from various sides were heard voices as of distant
trumpets. Near the lamp some bird flew past, then a robe of ruddy
color, afterward a man with a tail, finally a crowned cock which stood
on the table before the curtain.

The Chaldean spoke again, f

"In the name of the Almighty and Eternal Amorul, Tanecha, Rabur,
Latisten."

Distant sounds of trumpets were heard for a second time.

"In the name of the just and ever-living Eloy, Archima, Rabu, I conjure
and summon thee. In the name of the star, which is the sun, by this its
sign, by the glorious and awful name of the living God."

The trumpets sounded again, and stopped on a sudden. Before the altar
appeared a crowned vision with a scepter in its hand, and sitting on a
lion.

"Beroes! Beroes!" cried the vision, with a restrained voice. "Why dost
Thou summon me?"

"I wish my brethren of this temple to receive me with sincere hearts,
and incline their ears to the words which I bring them from brethren in
Babylon," said the Chaldean.

"Be it so," said the vision, and vanished.

The Chaldean stood as motionless as a statue, with his head thrown
back, with hands lifted upward. He stood thus half an hour in a
position impossible for an ordinary person.

During this time a part of the wall which formed one side of the cave
pushed back, and three Egyptian priests entered. At sight of the
Chaldean, who seemed to lie in the air, resting his shoulders on an
invisible support, the priests looked at one another with amazement.
The eldest said,

"Long ago there were men like this among us, but no one has such power
in our day."

They walked around him on all sides, touched his stiffened members, and
looked with fear at his face, which was bloodless and sallow, like that
of a corpse.

"Is he dead?" asked the youngest.

After these words the body of the Chaldean, which had been bent
backward, returned to a perpendicular position. On his face appeared a
slight flush, and his upraised hands dropped. He sighed, rubbed his
eyes like a man roused from sleep, looked at the priests, and said
after a while, turning to the eldest,

"Thou art Mefres, high priest of the temple of Ptah in Memphis. Thou
art Herhor, high priest of Amon in Thebes, the first dignity in this
state after the pharaoh. Thou," he indicated the youngest, "art
Pentuer, the second prophet in the temple of Amon, and the adviser of
Herhor."

"Thou art undoubtedly Beroes, the high priest and sage of Babylon,
whose coming was announced to us a year ago," answered Mefres.

"Thou hast told truth," said the Chaldean.

He embraced them in turn, and they inclined before him.

"I bring you great words from our common fatherland, which is Wisdom,"
said Beroes. "Be pleased to listen and act as is needful."

At a sign from Herhor, Pentuer withdrew to the rear of the cave and
brought out three armchairs of light wood for his superiors, and a low
stool for his own use. He seated himself near the lamp, and took from
his bosom a small dagger and wax-covered tablets.

When all three had occupied their chairs, the Chaldean began,

"Mefres, the highest college of priests in Babylon addresses thee: 'The
sacred order of priests in Egypt is falling. Many priests collect money
and women, and pass their lives amid pleasure. Wisdom is neglected. Ye
have no power over the world, which is invisible. Ye have no power over
your own souls. Some of you have lost the highest faith, and the future
is concealed from you. Things worse than this even happen; for many
priests, feeling that their spiritual power is exhausted, have entered
the way of falsehood and deceive simple people by cunning devices.'

"The highest college says this: 'If ye wish to return to the good road,
Beroes will remain some years with you, so as to rouse true light on
the Nile by the aid of a spark brought from the high altar of
Babylon.'."

"All is as Thou sayest," answered Mefres, confused. "Remain with us
therefore a number of years, so that the youth growing up at present
may remember thy wisdom."

"And now, Herhor, to thee come words from the highest college."

Herhor inclined his head.

"Because ye neglect the great secrets, your priests have not noted that
evil years are approaching Egypt. Ye are threatened by internal
disasters from which only virtue and wisdom can save you. But the worst
is that if in the course of the coming decade ye begin war with
Assyria, she will defeat your forces. Her armies will come to the Nile
and destroy all that has existed here for ages.

"Such an ominous juncture of stars as is now weighing on Egypt happened
first during the XIV. dynasty, when the Hyksos kings captured and
plundered this country. It will come for the third time in five or six
hundred years from Assyria and the people of Paras, who dwell to the
east of Chaldea."

The priests listened in terror. Herhor was pale; the tablets fell from
Pentuer's fingers; Mefres held the amulet hanging on his breast, and
prayed while his lips were parching.

"Be on your guard then against Assyria," continued the Chaldean, "for
her hour is the present. The Assyrians are a dreadful people! They
despise labor, they live by war. They conquer, they impale on stakes or
flay living people, they destroy captured cities and lead away their
inhabitants to bondage. For them to kill savage beasts is repose; to
pierce prisoners with arrows or scoop out their eyes is amusement.
Temples they turn into ruins, the vessels of the gods they use at their
banquets, and make buffoons of priests and sages. They adorn their
walls with skins torn from living people, and their tables with the
blood-stained skulls of their enemies."

When the Chaldean ceased speaking, the worthy Mefres answered,

"Great prophet, Thou hast cast fear on our souls, and dost not indicate
a remedy. It may be true, and to a certainty is so, since Thou hast
said it, that the fates for a certain time will be against us, but how
avoid this predicament? In the Nile there are dangerous places through
which no boat can pass safely; so the wisdom of the helmsmen avoids
deadly whirlpools. It is the same with misfortunes of nations. A nation
is a boat, and an epoch is the river, which at certain periods has
whirlpools. If the frail boat of a fisherman can avoid peril, why
should not millions of people escape under similar conditions?"

"Thy words are wise," replied Beroes, "but I can answer in part only."

"Dost Thou not know all that will happen?" asked Herhor.

"Ask me not touching that which I know, but which I may not disclose at
this moment. Most important in your case is to keep peace for ten years
with Assyria. Ye have power to do that. Assyria still dreads you; she
knows not the juncture of evil fates above Egypt, and desires to wage
war with northern and eastern nations who live near the seacoast. Ye
might, therefore, conclude a treaty today with Assyria."

"On what conditions?" asked Herhor.

"On very good ones. Assyria will yield to you the land of Israel as far
as the city of Akko, and the land of Edom to the city of Elath. So your
boundaries will be advanced ten days march toward the north without
war, and ten days toward the east also."

"But Phoenicia?" inquired Herhor.

"Approach not temptation!" exclaimed Beroes. "If the pharaoh were to
stretch his hand today toward Phoenicia, in a month Assyrian armies
intended for the north and east would turn southward, and a year hence
or earlier their horses would be swimming in your sacred river."

"Egypt cannot renounce influence over Phoenicia," interrupted Herhor,
with an outburst.

"Should she not renounce she would prepare her own ruin," said the
Chaldean. "Moreover, I repeat the words of the highest college: 'Tell
Egypt,' declared the brothers in Babylon, 'to cower to the earth for
ten years, like a partridge, for the falcon of evil fate is watching
her. Tell her that we Chaldeans hate Assyria more than do the
Egyptians, for we endure the burden of its rule; but still we recommend
to the Egyptians peace with that bloodthirsty nation. Ten years is a
short period; after that not only can ye regain your ancient place, but
ye can save us.'."

"That is true!" added Mefres.

"Only consider," continued the Chaldean, "should Assyria begin war with
you, she would involve also Babylon, which hates warfare. War will
exhaust our wealth and stop the labor of wisdom. Even were ye not
defeated your country would be ruined for a long period. Ye would lose
not only people, but the fertile soil, which would be buried by sand in
the absence of earth-tillers."

"We understand that," replied Herhor; "hence we have no thought of
attacking Assyria. But Phoenicia."

"What harm will it be to you," asked Beroes, "if the Assyrian robber
squeezes the Phoenician thief? Your merchants and ours will gain by
such action. But if ye want Phoenicians, let them settle on your
shores. I am sure that the richest and most adroit of them would flee
from Assyrian conquest."

"What would happen to our fleet, if the Assyrians settled in
Phoenicia?" inquired Herhor.

"That is not your fleet, but the Phoenician," replied Beroes. "When
Tyrian and Sidonian ships are lost to you, ye will build your own, and
exercise Egyptians in navigation. If ye have mind and a practical
character, ye will drive out Phoenician commerce from western regions."

Herhor waved his hand.

"I have told that which was commanded me," said Beroes, "and do ye that
which pleaseth you. But remember that ten evil years are impending."

"It seems to me, holy father," said Pentuer, "that Thou didst speak of
internal troubles which threaten Egypt in the future. What will they
be, if it please thee to answer thy servant?"

"Do not ask. Those are things which ye ought to know better than I, who
am a stranger. Clear sight will discover the disease, and experience
will give the remedy."

"Our working people are terribly oppressed by the great," whispered
Pentuer.

"Devotion has decreased," added Mefres.

"There are many who sigh for a foreign war," began Herhor. "I have seen
this long time that we cannot carry on one, unless ten years hence."

"Then will ye conclude a treaty with Assyria?" inquired the Chaldean.

"Amon, who knows my heart," answered Herhor, "knows how repugnant that
treaty is to me. It is not so long since those vile Assyrians paid us
tribute. But if thou, holy father, and the highest college say that the
fates are against us, we must make the treaty."

"We must indeed," added Mefres.

"In that case inform the priests in Babylon of your decision, and they
will arrange that King Assar shall send an embassy to Egypt. This
treaty, believe me, is of great advantage; without war ye will increase
your possessions. Indeed our priesthood have given deep thought to this
question."

"May all blessings fall on you, wealth, power, and wisdom," said
Mefres. "Yes, we must raise our priestly order, and do thou, holy
Beroes, assist us."

"There is need, above all, to assuage the suffering of the people." put
in Pentuer.

"The priests! the people!" said Herhor, as if to himself. "Above all,
it is needful in this case to restrain those who wish war. It is true
that his holiness the pharaoh is with me, and I think I have gained
influence over the heir, may he live through eternity! But Nitager, to
whom war is as water to a fish; but the leaders of our mercenary
forces, who only in war have significance; but our aristocracy, who
think that war will pay Phoenician debts and give them property."

"Meanwhile earth-tillers are fainting beneath an avalanche of labor,
and public workmen are revolting against demands of overseers," added
Pentuer.

"He is always expressing his thought!" said Herhor, in meditation.
"Think thou, Pentuer, of earth-tillers and laborers; thou, Mefres, of
the priests. I know not what ye will effect, but I swear that if my own
son favored war I would bind and destroy him."

"Act in this way," said Beroes, "let him carry on war who wishes, but
not in those regions where he can meet Assyria."

With this the session ended. The Chaldean put his scarf on his shoulder
and the veil on his face; Mefres and Herhor, one on each side of him,
and behind him Pentuer, all turned toward the altar.

When Beroes had crossed his hands on his breast, he whispered, and
again subterranean disturbance set in, and they heard as it were a
distant uproar, which astonished the assistants.

"Baralanensis, Baldachiensis, Paumachiae," said the seer, aloud, "I
summon thee to witness our stipulations and support our wishes."

The sound of trumpets was heard so distinctly that Mefres bowed to the
earth, Herhor looked around in astonishment, while Pentuer knelt, fell
to trembling, and covered his ears.

The purple curtain at the altar shook, and its folds took such a form
as if a man were behind who wished to pass through it.

"Be witnesses," cried the Chaldean, in a changed voice, "ye powers
above and ye powers beneath! And cursed be he who observes not this
treaty or betrays its secret."

"Cursed!" repeated some voice.

"And destroyed!"

"And destroyed."

"In this visible and in that invisible life. By the ineffable name of
Jehovah, at the sound of which the earth trembles, the sea draws back,
fire quenches, and the elements of nature become evident."

A real tempest rose in the cave. The sound of trumpets was mingled with
voices, as it were, of distant thunders.

The curtain of the altar rose almost horizontally, and behind it, amid
glittering lightning, appeared wonderful creatures, half human, half
plant and animal, crowded and mingled together.

Suddenly all was silent, and Beroes rose slowly in the air, higher than
the heads of the priests there attending.

At eight o'clock next morning Phut of Harran returned to the Phoenician
inn "Under the Ship" to which his bags and casket stolen by thieves had
been returned safely. A few minutes later came Asarhadon's confidential
servant, whom the innkeeper took to the cellar and examined briefly,

"Well?"

"I was all night on the square where the temple of Set is," answered
the servant. "At ten in the evening out of the garden which lies about
four places farther than the house of the 'Green Star,' came three
priests. One of them, with black beard and hair, turned his steps
through the square toward the temple of Set. I ran after him, but mist
fell, and he vanished from my eyes. Whether he returned to the 'Green
Star' or when, I know not."

The innkeeper, when he had heard this account, struck his forehead and
muttered to himself,

"So my man from Harran, if he dresses as a priest and goes to a temple,
must be a priest; and if he wears beard and hair, he must be a Chaldean
priest. But if he meets priests here in secret, there must be some
rogue's tricks. I will not tell the police, for I might be caught. But
I will inform some great man from Sidon, for there may be profit in
this, if not for me, for our people."

Soon the other messenger returned. Asarhadon went down to the cellar
with this one also, and heard the following narrative,

"I stood all night in front of the 'Green Star.' The man of Harran was
there; he got drunk and raised such shouts that the policeman warned
the doorkeeper."

"Did he?" inquired the innkeeper. "The man of Harran was at the 'Green
Star' all night, and Thou didst see him?"

"Not only I, but the policeman."

Asarhadon brought down the first servant, and commanded each to repeat
his story. They repeated the stories faithfully, with the utmost
conviction. It appeared then that Phut of Harran had remained all night
at the "Green Star" without leaving the place for a moment; at the same
time he went to the temple of Set, and did not return from it.

"Oh," muttered Asarhadon, "in all this there is some very great
villainy. I must inform the elders of the Phoenician society, as
quickly as possible, that this Hittite knows how to be in two places at
once. I shall also beg him to move out of my inn. I do not take people
who have two forms, one their own, the other in supply. For a man of
that kind is a great criminal, a wizard, or a conspirator."

Asarhadon was afraid of such things; so he secured himself against
enchantment by prayers to all the gods which adorned his inn. Then he
hurried to the city, where he notified the elder of the Phoenician
society and the elder of the guild of thieves of what had happened.
Then, returning home, he summoned the decurion of police, and informed
him that Phut might be a dangerous person. Finally he asked the man of
Harran to leave the inn, to which he brought no profit, nothing but
loss and suspicion.

Phut agreed to the proposition willingly, and informed the innkeeper
that he intended to sail for Thebes that same evening.

"May Thou never return!" thought the hospitable host. "May Thou rot in
the quarries, or fall into the river to be eaten by crocodiles."



CHAPTER XXI

Prince Ramses began his journey in the most beautiful season of the
year, during the month Phamenoth (end of December and beginning of
January). The river had fallen to half its height, laying bare new
strips of land day by day. From Thebes many barges with wheat were
sailing down toward the sea; in Lower Egypt clover and beans had been
harvested. Orange and pomegranate trees were covered with blossoms; in
the fields earth tillers had sown lupines, flax, barley, and had
planted various beans, cucumbers, and other garden products.

Escorted to the landing of Memphis by priests, the highest dignitaries
of the state, the guards of his holiness the pharaoh, the heir entered
a gilded barge about ten in the morning. Under the bridge, on which
were costly tents, twenty soldiers worked the oars, at the mast and at
both ends of the boat the best naval engineers had taken their places.
Some looked after the sails, others commanded the rowers, while still
others steered the vessel.

Ramses had invited to his boat the most worthy high priest Mefres and
the holy father Mentezufis, who were to be with him on the journey and
in governing. The prince had invited also the worthy nomarch of
Memphis, who conducted him to the boundary of his province.

Some hundreds of yards in front of the viceroy sailed the beautiful
boat of the worthy Otoes, nomarch of Aa, a province adjoining the
capital. Behind the prince came countless barges occupied by the court,
by priests, by officials and officers.

Provisions and servants had been dispatched earlier.

The Nile flows to Memphis between two lines of mountains. Farther the
mountains turn eastward and westward, and the river divides into a
number of arms in which the water flows through a broad plain to the
Mediterranean.

When the barge had pushed away from the landing, the prince wished to
converse with Mefres, the high priest. But at that moment such a shout
broke forth that he was forced to leave his tent and show himself to
the people.

The uproar grew greater, however, instead of subsiding. On both shores
stood and increased every moment throngs of half naked laborers, or
people of the city dressed in holiday garments. Very many had garlands
on their heads, almost all held green branches in their hands. Some
groups sang; among others were heard the beating of drums and the sound
of flutes.

Well-sweeps planted thickly along the river with buckets stood idle,
but on the Nile circled a swarm of small boats, the occupants of which
cast flowers at the barge of the viceroy. Some of them sprang into the
water and swam after the vessel.

"They greet me as they would his holiness," thought the viceroy.

And great pride possessed his heart at sight of so many stately barges
which he could detain at one sweep of the hand, and those thousands who
had left their occupations and ran the risk even of death just to see
his divine countenance.

Ramses was delighted, especially by that immense shout which rose from
the people without ceasing for an instant. That shout filled his
breast, rose to his head, exalted him. It seemed to the prince that if
he should spring from the barge he would not touch water, for the
enthusiasm of the multitude would seize him and bear him aloft above
the earth, as a bird is borne in flying.

The barge approached the left bank somewhat; the forms of people were
outlined more clearly, and the prince saw something which he had not
expected. While persons in the first ranks were clapping their hands
and singing, in farther ones clubs were visible falling thickly and
swiftly on backs that were hidden.

The astonished heir turned to the nomarch of Memphis.

"But look, worthiness, sticks are at work there."

The nomarch shaded his eyes with his hand, his neck became red.
"Pardon, most worthy prince, but I see badly."

"They are beating surely they are beating!"

"That is possible," answered the nomarch. "Undoubtedly the priests have
caught a band of thieves there."

Not over-pleased with this conversation, the heir went toward the stern
to the engineers, who turned the barge suddenly toward the middle of
the river, and from that point he looked back at Memphis.

Both banks higher up the Nile were almost deserted, the boats had
disappeared, the well-sweeps were moving as if nothing had happened.

"Is the solemnity over?" inquired the prince of an engineer, pointing
to a higher place on the river.

"It is. The people have returned to their work," said the engineer.

"Very quickly."

"They must recover lost time," said the engineer, incautiously.

The heir quivered, and looked at the man sharply. But he calmed himself
soon and returned to the tent. For him shouts were of no further
interest. He was gloomy and silent. After an outburst of pride, he felt
contempt for that throng which passed so promptly from enthusiasm to
well-sweeps and baling up muddy water.

At that point the Nile begins to separate into branches. The barge of
the chief of Aa turned toward the west, sailed an hour, and stopped at
the river bank. The crowds were still greater than at Memphis. A
multitude of pillars had been set up with banners and triumphal arches
entwined with green garlands. Among the people foreign faces and
garments were more and more frequent.

When the prince landed, the priests approached with a baldachin, and
the worthy nomarch Otoes began,

"Be greeted, viceroy of the divine pharaoh, within the borders of Aa.
As a sign of thy favor, which for us is as heavenly dew, be pleased to
make an offering to the god Ptah, who is our patron, and take under thy
protection and control this province, with its temples, officials,
people, cattle, grain, and all that is here existent."

Then he presented a group of young exquisites, fragrant, rouged,
arrayed in gold-embroidered garments. Those were the remoter and nearer
relatives of the nomarch, the local aristocracy.

Ramses looked at them with attention.

"Aha!" said he. "It seemed to me that these gentlemen lacked something,
and now I see what it is, they have no wigs."

"Because thou, most worthy prince, dost not wear wigs, our young men
have vowed not to wear them," replied the nomarch.

After this explanation one of the young men stood behind the prince
with a fan, another with a shield, a third with a dart, and the
procession began. The heir walked under the baldachin, before him a
priest with a tube in which incense was burning; there were maidens
also who scattered roses on the path over which the prince was to
travel.

The people in holiday garments, with branches in their hands, formed a
line and shouted; they sang songs, or prostrated themselves before the
lieutenant of the pharaoh. But the prince saw that in spite of the loud
sounds of joy their faces were unenlivened and anxious. He saw also
that the crowd was divided into groups which people of some sort were
directing, and that the rejoicing took place by command. And again he
felt in his heart a chill of contempt for that throng which knew not
how to rejoice even.

Gradually the retinue approached the walled column which indicated the
boundary between Aa and Memphis. On three sides of the column were
inscriptions describing the extent of the province, its population, and
the number of its cities; on the fourth side was a statue of Ptah,
surrounded from foot to breast with an envelope; he had the usual cap
on his head and a staff in his hand.

One of the priests gave the prince a golden spoon with burning incense.
The heir uttered prescribed prayers, whirled the censer to the height
of the divinity's head, and bowed low a number of times in succession.

The shouts of the people and of the priests rose ever higher, though
among youthful exquisites smiles and jests were observable. Since his
reconciliation with Herhor the prince had shown great respect for gods
and priests; so he frowned somewhat. In one moment the young men
changed their bearing. All became serious, while some fell on their
faces before the column.

"Indeed," thought the prince, "people of noble birth are better than
that rabble. Whatever nobles do they do it with spirit, not like those
who make an uproar in my honor but are glad to hurry back to their
workshops and stables."

Now he measured better than ever the distance between him and the
lowest people, and he understood that the aristocracy was the only
class to which he was bound by a community of feeling. If suddenly they
should vanish, those stately young men and beautiful women whose
flashing glances followed every one of his movements, so as to serve
him straightway and carry out his orders, if they should vanish, the
prince would feel more alone among the countless throngs of people than
in a desert.

Eight negroes brought a litter adorned above the baldachin with ostrich
feathers; the prince took his place in it, and advanced to the capital
of Sochem, where he dwelt in a government palace.

The prince's stay in that province, which was only a few miles from
Memphis, lasted a month. All this time he passed in receiving
petitions, in accepting homage, in official receptions, and at feasts.

The feasts were of two kinds, one in the palace, at which the
aristocracy were present; the other in the outer court, where whole
oxen were roasted, loaves of bread were eaten by the hundred, and
hundreds of pitchers of beer drunk. At these appeared servants of the
prince and the lower officials of the province.

Ramses admired the munificence of the nomarch, and the affection of the
great lords around him, alert to every beck of his and ready to carry
out his orders.

Wearied at last by amusements, Ramses declared to the worthy Otoes that
he wished to become more nearly acquainted with the management of the
province, for he had received a command from his holiness the pharaoh
to study it.

His desire was satisfied. The nomarch requested the prince to sit in a
litter borne by only two men, and with a great retinue escorted him to
the temple of Hator. There the retinue remained in the antechamber, but
the nomarch commanded the bearers to carry the prince to the summit of
a pylon, which he himself ascended.

From the summit of a tower, ninety feet high, whence priests observed
the sky and communicated through colored flags with the neighboring
temples in Memphis, Atribis, and Ann, the eye surveyed in the radius of
some miles almost a whole province.

From that place, too, the worthy Otoes showed Ramses the fields and
vineyards of the pharaoh; he showed what canal they were clearing, what
sluice they were repairing; he showed furnaces for smelting copper; he
showed where the royal granaries' stood, where the lotus and papyrus
swamps were, what fields were covered with sand, and so on till he had
finished.

Ramses was charmed with the beautiful view, and thanked Otoes warmly
for the pleasure which he experienced. But when he returned to the
palace, and, according to the advice of the pharaoh, noted impressions,
he convinced himself that his knowledge of the economic conditions of
Aa had not widened.

After some days he asked explanations again of Otoes touching the
administration of the province. The worthy lord commanded all the
officials to assemble and pass before the prince, who sat in the main
court on an elevation.

Before the viceroy moved great and petty treasurers; scribes of grain,
wine, cattle, woolen stuffs; chief masons, ditch-diggers, naval and
land engineers, healers of various diseases, officers over regiments of
laborers, police scribes, judges, inspectors of prisons, even
executioners and dissectors. After them the worthy nomarch presented
the prince's own officials in that province to him. Ramses learned
therefore, with no small astonishment, that in Aa and in the city of
Sochem he had his own personal charioteer, torch-bearer, shield-bearer,
dart-bearer, mace-bearer, some tens of litter-bearers, a number of
cooks, cup-bearers, barbers, and many other servitors distinguished for
attachment and faithfulness, though he had not even heard their names
and did not know them.

Tortured and tired by a barren review of officials, the prince's
courage fell. He was terrified by the thought that he understood
nothing, hence was unfitted to rule; but he feared to confess this even
to himself.

If Ramses could not rule Egypt, and others were able to rule it, what
remained to him? Nothing but death. Without the throne he could have no
happiness. He felt that for him life would be impossible unless he had
power.

But when he had rested a few days, in so far as rest was attainable in
that chaos of court life, he summoned Otoes, and said to him,

"Worthiness, I have begged thee to acquaint me with the secret of
governing Aa. Thou hast done so, Thou hast shown me the country and the
officials, but still I know nothing. On the contrary, I am like a man
in the underground divisions of a temple who sees so many passages
about him that he is unable at last to find his way out into daylight."

The nomarch was confused.

"What am I to do?" asked he. "What dost Thou wish of me, O ruler? Only
say the word and I will yield to thee office, property, even life."

And, seeing that the prince received this assurance with graciousness,
he continued,

"During thy journey Thou hast seen the people of this province. Thou
wilt say that all were not present. Agreed. I will command all to
assemble, and they are, men, women, old men, and children, about two
hundred thousand. From the summit of the pylon Thou wert pleased to
survey our whole province. But if it be thy wish, we can examine from
near by every field, every village, and every street of the city of
Sochem. Finally I have shown thee the officials; it is true, the very
lowest were absent. But command and all will stand before thee to-
morrow and fall on their faces. What am I to do more? Tell me, most
worthy lord."

"I believe that Thou art most faithful," answered Ramses. "Therefore
explain to me two things: first, why has the income of his holiness
diminished? second, what art Thou doing thyself in the province?"

Otoes was confused, and the prince added quickly,

"I wish to know what Thou art doing here, and by what methods, since I
am young and only commencing to govern."

"Thou hast the wisdom of a century," whispered the nomarch.

"Therefore it is proper," continued the prince, "that I should ask men
of experience and that Thou shouldst give me knowledge."

"I will show thee all, and give every explanation," said Otoes. "But we
should go to a place where there is no uproar."

In fact, in the palace which the prince occupied as many people
thronged in the inner and outer court as at a fair. They ate, drank,
sang, raced or rested, and all this to enhance the glory of the viceroy
whom they were serving.

About three in the afternoon, the nomarch gave command to bring two
horses, and with the prince he rode forth from the city westward. The
court remained in the palace and amused itself with still greater
gladness.

The day was beautiful, cool; the earth was covered with plants and
flowers. Over the beads of the horsemen were heard the songs of birds,
the air was full of fragrance.

"How pleasant it is here!" exclaimed Ramses. "Now I am able to collect
ray thoughts for the first time in a month. I had begun to think that a
whole regiment of chariots had assembled in my head, and that from
morning till evening reviews were held there."

"Such is the fate of a ruler in this world," said the nomarch.

They halted on an eminence. At their feet lay an immense meadow, cut
through by a blue stream. On the north and on the south were white
walls of towns; beyond the meadow on the rim of the horizon extended
the reddish sands of the western desert, from which came an occasional
breath of heated air, as if from a furnace.

On the meadow were countless herds of animals, horned and hornless
oxen, sheep, goats, asses, antelopes, even rhinoceroses.

Here and there were visible swampy places covered with water plants and
reeds in which were teeming wild geese, ducks, doves, storks, pelicans,
and ibises.

"Behold, lord," said Otoes, "a picture of our country, Quench, Egypt.
Osiris fell in love with this strip of laud in the midst of deserts; he
covered it with plants and living creatures, so as to have from them
profit. Then the kindly god took a human form and became the first
pharaoh. When he felt that his body was withering, he left it and
entered into his son, and later on into his son's son.

"Thus Osiris lives among us, since the beginning of ages, as pharaoh,
and he gains profit from Egypt and its wealth which he himself created.
The lord has extended like a mighty tree. All the pharaohs are his
roots, the nomarchs and priests his larger branches, the nobles the
smaller branches. The visible god sits on the throne of the earth and
receives the income which belongs to him from Egypt; the invisible god
receives offerings in the temples, and declares his will through the
lips of the priesthood."

"Thou utterest truth," said the viceroy. "Thus is it written."

"Since Osiris the pharaoh," continued the nomarch, "cannot himself be
occupied in the management of the country, he has appointed us
nomarchs, who come of his blood, to watch over his property."

"That is true," said Ramses. "Sometimes even the sun god becomes
incarnate in a nomarch and begins a new dynasty. Thus rose the
dynasties of Memphis, Elephantina, Thebes, and Ksoi."

"Thou hast said it," continued Otoes. "But now I will answer that which
Thou hast asked of me.

"Thou hast asked what I do in this province? I guard the property of
Osiris, the pharaoh, and my own part in it. Look at those flocks; Thou
seest various animals. Some give milk, others flesh, others wool and
skins. The people of Egypt give wheat, wine, woolen stuffs, vessels,
houses. My affair is to take from each what he should give, and lay it
down at the feet of the pharaoh."

"In watching over the numerous herds I could not succeed alone; so I
have chosen watchful dogs and wise shepherds. Some of my servants milk
animals, shear them, remove their skins; others watch them so that
thieves may not steal or the plunderer injure. So with the province. I
could not collect all the taxes and guard men from evil; hence I have
officials who do what is proper, and render account of their action."

"All this is true," interrupted the prince. "I know and understand what
Thou sayest. But I cannot comprehend why the income of his holiness
decreases, though guarded well, as Thou hast told me."

"Be pleased to remember," continued the nomarch, "that Set, though a
full brother of the radiant Osiris, hates that god, wars with him, and
deforms all his labors. He sends deadly diseases on beasts and on men;
he causes the overflow of the Nile to be scant or over-violent, and he
hurls clouds of sand in time of heat upon Egypt.

"When a year is good, the Nile reaches the desert; when it is bad, the
desert comes down to the Nile, and then the royal income decreases.

"Look!" continued he, pointing at the meadow. "The flocks there are
numerous, but in my youth they were greater in number. But who is the
cause of this? No other than Set, whom human power cannot vanquish.
This meadow, great today, was once greater, and from this spot they
could not see the desert, which now is a terror.

"When the gods are battling, men can do nothing; where Set conquers
Osiris, who can bar the way to him?"

The worthy Otoes finished; the prince hung his head. In school he had
heard not a little about the love of Osiris and the malice of Set, and
while still a child he was angry that no one had forced Set to a final
reckoning.

"When I grow up," thought he at that time, "and carry a javelin, I will
seek out Set and we will make a trial."

And he was looking now at that measureless sand space, that kingdom of
the ominous godhead which was decreasing the income of Egypt; but he
had no thought to do battle with Set. For how can man fight with the
desert? Man can only avoid it or perish.



CHAPTER XXII

HIS stay in Aa had so wearied Ramses that to seek rest and rally his
thoughts he commanded to stop all solemnities in his honor, and
directed that during his journey people should never come forth to
greet him.

The prince's retinue were astonished, even somewhat offended; but they
carried out the command, and Ramses again found some quiet. He had time
to review his troops, which was his most agreeable occupation, and he
could collect his scattered thoughts in some measure.

Shut up in the remotest corner of the palace, the prince began to
consider how far he had carried out the commands of the pharaoh his
father.

He had surveyed Aa with his own eyes, its fields, towns, population,
officials. He had verified the fact that the eastern edge of the
province was yielding to the advance of the desert. He had observed
that laborers were indifferent and stupid; that they did only what was
commanded, and that with unwillingness. Finally, he had convinced
himself that really faithful and loving subjects were to be found only
among the aristocracy, for they were related to the family of the
pharaohs, or were of the noble order, and were grandsons of the men who
had fought under the great Ramses.

In every case those people rallied to the dynasty heartily, and were
ready to serve it with genuine readiness; not like the low people, who
when they had shouted a greeting ran back with all speed to their pigs
and their oxen.

But the chief object of his mission was not explained yet. Ramses not
only did not see clearly causes for the decrease of the royal income,
but he did not know how to formulate this question: Why is there evil,
and how can we correct it? He only felt that the legendary war of the
god Set with Osiris furnished no true explanation, and gave no means of
cure whatever.

But the prince, as the coming pharaoh, wished to have a great income,
like that of former rulers in Egypt. He was boiling with anger at the
very thought that when he had mounted the throne he would be as poor as
his father and perhaps even poorer.

"Never!" cried the prince, balling his fists.

To increase the royal property he was ready to rush sword in hand
against Set and hew that god into pieces, as Set had hewn his own
brother Osiris. But instead of the cruel divinity and his legions he
saw around him ignorance, the desert, and silence.

Under the influence of these struggles with his own thoughts, he seized
once the high priest Mefres.

"Tell me, holy father, to whom all wisdom is familiar, why does the
income of the state decrease, and in what manner can we add to it?"

Mefres raised his hands.

"May the spirit be blessed, worthy lord," cried the priest, "which
whispered such thoughts to thee. Oh, mayest Thou follow in the steps of
mighty pharaohs who built temples in all parts of Egypt, and through
canals and sluices increased the area of fertile land in this country."

The old man was so moved that he fell to weeping.

"First of all," said the prince, "answer what I ask; for how think of
temples and canals when the treasury is empty? The greatest misfortune
has befallen Egypt: its rulers are threatened with indigence. We must
examine this, first of all, and cure it; after that the rest will come
easily."

"This, prince, Thou wilt learn only in temples, at the foot of the
altar," said the high priest. "There alone can thy noble curiosity be
pacified."

Ramses started up with impatience.

"Before thy eyes, worthy father, the temple hides the whole country,
even the treasury of the pharaoh. I am, for that matter, a priestly
pupil. I was reared in the shadow of a temple, I know the secret of the
spectacles in which the malice of Set is represented, with the death
and re-birth of Osiris, and what does that profit me? When my father
asks how to replenish the treasury, I can give him no answer. Should I
persuade him to pray longer and oftener than he does at the present?"

"Prince, Thou art blaspheming, Thou knowest not the high ceremonies of
religion. If Thou knew them Thou couldst answer many questions which
torment thee; and hadst Thou seen that which I have, Thou wouldst know
that the highest interest of Egypt is to support priests and temples."

"Men in old age become children," thought Ramses; and he stopped the
conversation.

Mefres had been very pious at all times, but he had then grown
eccentric.

"I should end well," thought Ramses, "if I yielded to priests and
assisted at puerile ceremonies. Perhaps Mefres would even command me to
stand for whole hours at an altar, as he himself does, beyond doubt,
while expecting a miracle."

In the month Pharmuthi (end of January and beginning of February) the
prince took leave of Otoes, before starting for Hak, the next province.
He thanked the nomarchs and lords for their splendid reception, but at
heart he was sad, for he knew that he had not mastered the problem put
forth by his father.

Escorted by the family and court of Otoes, the prince with his retinue
crossed to the right bank of the river, where he was greeted by
Ranuzer, the worthy nomarch, together with the lords and the priests of
his province.

When the prince reached the land of Hak, the priests raised a statue of
Atmu, patron god of the province, and the officials fell prostrate;
then the nomarch brought a golden sickle to Ramses, and begged him to
open the harvest as viceroy of the pharaoh, that being the time to
gather in barley.

Ramses took the sickle, cut a couple of handfuls of ears, and burnt
them with incense before the god the guardian of the boundaries. After
him the nomarch and the great lords cut barley also, and at last
harvesters fell to reaping. They cut only ears, which they packed into
bags; the straw remained on the field behind them.

When he had heard a tedious service before the god, the prince mounted
a two-wheeled car, a division of the army moved on, and the priests
followed. Two lords led the horses of the heir by the bridles. After
the heir, on a second car, rode the nomarch, and next an immense train
of lords and court servitors. The people, agreeable to the will of
Ramses, did not present themselves, but laborers in the fields, at
sight of the procession, fell on their faces.

In this manner when he had passed a number of pontoon bridges thrown
over arms of the Nile and canals, the prince reached toward evening the
city of Anu, the capital.

For some days feasts of greeting continued; they rendered homage to the
heir, and presented officials. At last Ramses begged to interrupt the
festivities, and requested the nomarch to acquaint him with the wealth
of the province.

Next morning the review began, and lasted a fortnight. Every day in the
court of that palace where the heir had his residence appeared various
guilds of craftsmen. These came under command of guild officers, to
exhibit their productions. In turn came armorers and swordsmiths,
makers of spears and axes, manufacturers of musical instruments, fifes,
trumpets, drums, harps. After these came the great guild of
cabinetmakers, who exhibited armchairs, tables, couches, litters, and
carriages, ornamented with rich drawings, made of various wood, mother-
of-pearl, and ivory; then they brought kitchen utensils, things for the
fire, spits, two-eared pots, and flat pans with covers; jewelers
rivaled one another with gold rings of wonderful beauty, amber
bracelets and anklets, or chains made of gold mixed with silver. All
these were carved with artistic skill, and inlaid with precious stones
or enamel of various colors.

The procession was closed by potters who carried more than a hundred
kinds of earthen vessels. They brought vases, pots, plates, pitchers,
and jugs of the most varied forms and sizes, covered with paintings
ornamented with beast and bird heads.

Each guild made an offering to the prince of its most beautiful
productions. These filled a large hall, though among them no two things
were similar.

At the end of the curious but interesting exhibition, his worthiness
Ranuzer asked the prince if he was satisfied.

The heir thought awhile.

"More beautiful things I have not seen except in the temples or in the
palaces of my father. But since only rich people can buy them, I do not
see how the state treasury can have much profit from those objects."

The nomarch was astonished at the young lord's indifference, and was
alarmed by his anxiety about income; but wishing to satisfy Ramses, he
began then to conduct him through the royal factories.

One day they went to buildings where slaves were grinding flour in many
hundred hand-mills and in mortars. They went to bakeries where men were
baking bread and rusks to feed the army, and to places where preserved
fish and meat were in course of preparation. They examined great
tanneries, and shops where sandals were made, foundries where copper
was cast into arms and utensils. After that, brickyards, guilds of
weavers and tailors.

These establishments were situated in the eastern part of the city.
Ramses at first looked at them with interest, but very soon he was
disgusted with the sight of laborers who were timid, lean, sickly in
complexion, and who had scars left by sticks on their shoulders.
Thenceforth he stopped only briefly at factories. He preferred to look
at the environs of the city of Anu. Far to the east he could see the
desert where a year earlier the maneuvers had taken place between his
corps and Nitager's. He saw, like a thing on the palm of his hand, the
road by which his regiments had marched, the place where because of the
beetles the military engines had to turn to the desert, and perhaps
even the tree on which the canal digger had hanged himself.

From that elevation over there in company with Tutmosis he had looked
at the blooming land of Goshen and cursed the priesthood. And there
among the hills he had met Sarah, toward whom his heart had flamed up
on a sudden.

Today what changes! He had ceased to hate the priests from the hour
that by the influence of Herhor he had received the army corps and the
office of viceroy. He had become indifferent to Sarah, but that child
whose mother she would be grew to him more and more important.

"What is she doing there?" thought the prince. "I have not had news
from her this long time."

While he was looking on those eastern hills in this way, and thinking
of the recent past, Ranuzer at the head of his escort felt certain that
the prince had observed abuses in the factories and was meditating over
means of punishment.

"I am curious to know what he discovered," thought the worthy nomarch.
"Is it that half the bricks are sold to the Phoenicians, or that ten
thousand sandals are lacking in the factory, or perhaps some low wretch
has whispered to him about the foundries?"

And the nomarch's heart was anxious.

Suddenly the prince turned toward the escort and called Tutmosis, who
was bound to be at all times near his person.

Tutmosis ran up. The heir went to one side with him.

"Hear me," said he, pointing toward the desert. "Dost Thou see those
hills?"

"We were there last year," sighed the courtier.

"I remember Sarah."

"I will burn incense to the gods at once," cried Tutmosis, "for I
thought that your worthiness had forgotten faithful servants since
becoming viceroy."

The prince looked at him and shrugged his shoulders.

"Select," said he, "from the gifts brought me, some of the most
beautiful vessels, utensils, stuffs, and, above all, chains and
bracelets, and take them to Sarah."

"Live through eternity, O Ramses!" exclaimed the exquisite, "for Thou
art high-minded."

"Tell her," continued the prince, "that for her my heart is always full
of favor. Say that I wish her to care for her health. Tell Sarah that
when the time of freedom comes and I have carried out the commands of
my father, she will come to me and live in my house. I cannot endure
that the mother of my child should be grieving in loneliness. Go, do as
I have said, and return with pleasant tidings."

Tutmosis prostrated himself before the noble ruler, and took the road
straightway. The retinue of Ramses, unable to divine the conversation,
envied Tutmosis the favor of the viceroy, while the worthy Ranuzer felt
alarm rising in his soul.

"Oh," said he, anxiously, "may I not need to raise hands on myself and
leave my house in the bloom of my years! Why did I, the unfortunate,
when taking the pharaoh's goods, not think of the hour of trial?"

His face became yellow, and his legs tottered under him. But the
prince, mastered by a wave of reminiscences, took no note of this
change in the nomarch.



CHAPTER XXIII

IN the city of Anu a series of feasts and amusements now followed. The
worthy nomarch brought the choicest wines from his cellars; from the
three neighboring provinces came the most beautiful dancers, the most
famous musicians, the adroitest of jugglers. The prince's time was
occupied thoroughly, every morning reviews of troops and receptions;
later feasts, spectacles, hunting, and feasts again.

But just when Ranuzer felt certain that the viceroy was tired of
questions of administration and economy, the latter summoned him, and
asked,

"Thy province, worthiness, is among the richest in Egypt, is it not?"

"Yes, though we have had a number of hard years," replied Ranuzer; and
again his heart sank and his legs began to tremble.

"But this astonishes me," said the prince, "that year after year the
income of his holiness decreases. Canst Thou not explain to me the
cause of this?"

"Lord," said the nomarch, bending his head to the earth, "I see that my
enemies have sown distrust in thy soul; whatever I might say,
therefore, would not convince thee. Permit me not to speak. Better let
scribes come with documents, which Thou canst touch with thy hand and
verify."

The prince was somewhat astonished at the unexpected outburst, but he
accepted the offer; nay, he was glad of it. He thought, of course, that
the report of these scribes would explain to him the secret of
government.

The next day, therefore, came the chief scribe of Hak, and with him his
assistants. They brought from ten to twenty rolls of papyrus written on
both sides. When unwound, they formed a strip three spans of a great
hand in width and in length sixty paces. For the first time the prince
saw so gigantic a document, containing an inventory of one province
only and that for one year.

The chief scribe sat on the floor with his legs doubled under him, and
began,

"In the thirty-third year of the reign of his holiness Meramen-Ramses
the Nile was late in its overflow. Earth-tillers, ascribing this
misfortune to the black art of foreigners resident in the province of
Hak, fell to wrecking the houses of Hittites, Jews, and Phoenicians,
during which time a number of persons were slain by them. At command of
his worthiness the nomarch, those guilty were brought to the court;
twenty-five earth-tillers, two masons, and five sandal-makers were
condemned to the quarries, one boatman was strangled."

"What is that document?" interrupted the prince.

"It is the report of the court intended for the feet of his holiness."

"Put it aside, and read about the income of the treasury."

The assistants of the chief scribe folded the rejected document, and
gave him others. Again the official began,

"On the fifth day of the month Thoth six hundred measures of wheat were
brought to the granaries of the pharaoh; for these a receipt was issued
by the chief overseer.

"On the seventh day of Thoth the chief scribe discovered and verified a
statement that from the supply of the previous year one hundred and
forty-eight measures of wheat had vanished.

"During the verification two laborers stole a measure of grain and hid
it among bricks. When this was proven they were brought to judgment and
sent to the quarries for raising their hands to the property of his
holiness."

"But the hundred and forty-eight measures?" asked the heir.

"The mice ate them," replied the scribe, and read on.

"On the eighth day of Thoth twenty cows and eighty-four sheep were sent
to the slaughter; these, at command of the overseer of oxen, were
issued to the Sparrow-Hawk regiment."

In this manner the viceroy learned day after day how much wheat,
barley, beans, and lotus seed were weighed into the granaries, how much
given out to the mills, how much stolen, and how many laborers were
condemned to the quarries for stealing. The report was so wearisome and
chaotic that in the middle of the month Paophi the prince gave command
to stop reading.

"Tell me, chief scribe," said Ramses, "what dost Thou understand from
this? What dost Thou learn from it?"

"Everything which thy worthiness commands."

And he began again at the beginning, but from memory,

"On the fifth of the month Thoth they brought to the granaries of the
pharaoh."

"Enough!" cried the enraged prince; and he commanded the man to depart.

The scribes fell on their faces, gathered up their papyruses quickly,
and bore them away in a twinkle.

The prince summoned the nomarch. He came with crossed hands, but with a
calm face, for he had learned from the scribes that the viceroy could
understand nothing from reports, and that he did not give ear to them.

"Tell me, worthiness," began the heir, "do they read reports to thee?"

"Every day."

"And dost Thou understand them?"

"Pardon, most worthy lord, but could I manage a province if I did not
understand?"

The prince was confused and fell to thinking. Could it be really that
he, Ramses, was the only incompetent? But in this case what would
become of his power?

"Sit down," said he, after a while, indicating a chair to the nomarch.
"Sit down and tell me how Thou governest the province."

The dignitary grew pale, and the whites of his eyes turned upward.
Ramses noticed this, and began explaining,

"Do not think that I have not trust in thy wisdom. On the contrary, I
know no man who could manage better. But I am young and curious to know
the art of government, so I beg thee to deal out to me crumbs of thy
knowledge. Thou art ruling the province I know that. Now explain to me
the process."

The nomarch drew breath and began,

"I will relate, worthiness, the whole course of my life, so Thou shalt
know how weighty my work is.

"In the morning I bathe, then I give offerings to the god Amut; next I
summon the treasurer, and ask him whether the taxes for his holiness
are collected properly. When he answers yes, I praise him; when he says
that these and those people have not paid, I issue an order to imprison
the disobedient. Then I summon the overseers of the royal granaries, to
learn how much grain has been delivered. If much, I praise them; if
little, I issue an order to inflict stripes on the guilty.

"Later comes the chief scribe, and tells me which of the estates of his
holiness needs troops, officials, and laborers, and I command to send
them in return for a receipt. When he gives out less, I praise him;
when more, I commence an investigation.

"In the afternoon come Phoenician merchants, to whom I sell wheat and
bring money to the treasury of the pharaoh. Afterward I pray and
confirm the sentences of the court; toward evening the police inform me
of what has happened. No longer ago than the day before yesterday
people from my province fell upon the territory Ka and desecrated a
statue of the god Sebak. I was delighted in heart, for that god is not
our patron; still I condemned some of the guilty to strangulation, some
of them to the quarries, and all to receive stripes.

"Hence peace and good habits prevail in my province, and the taxes flow
in daily."

"Though the income of the pharaoh has decreased here also," added
Ramses.

"Thou speakest truth, lord," sighed the worthy nomarch. "The priests
say that the gods are angry with Egypt because of the influx of
foreigners; but I see that even the gods do not contemn gold and
precious stones brought by Phoenicians."

At that moment the priest Mentezufis, preceded by an officer in
waiting, entered the hall to beg the prince and the nomarch to a public
devotion. Both dignitaries consented, and the nomarch exhibited so much
piety that the prince was astonished. When Ranuzer left the company
with obeisances, Ramses said to the priest,

"Since with me, holy prophet, Thou takest the place of the most
venerable Herhor, I beg thee to explain one thing which fills my heart
with anxiety ."

"Shall I be able to explain?" asked the prophet.

"Thou wilt answer me, for Thou art filled with wisdom, of which Thou
art the servant. But consider what I say Thou knowest why his holiness
sent me hither."

"He sent thee, prince, to become familiar with the wealth of the
country and its institutions," said Mentezufis.

"I am obeying. I examine the nomarchs, I look at the country and the
people. I listen to reports of scribes, but I understand nothing; this
poisons my life and astounds me.

"When I have to do with the army, I know everything, how many soldiers
there are, how many horses, chariots, which officers drink or neglect
their service, and which do their duty, I know, too, what to do with an
army. When on a plain there is a hostile corps, I must take two corps
to beat it. If the enemy is in a defensive position, I should not move
without three corps. When the enemy is undisciplined and fights in
unordered crowds against a thousand, I send five hundred of our
soldiers and beat him. When the opposing side has a thousand men with
axes, and I a thousand, I rush at them and finish those troops, if I
have a hundred men with slings in addition.

"In the army, holy father," continued Ramses, "everything is as visible
as the fingers on my hand, and to every question an answer is ready
which my mind comprehends. Meanwhile in the management of a province I
not only see nothing, but there is such confusion in my head that more
than once I forget the object of my journey.

"Answer me, therefore, sincerely, as a priest and an officer: What does
this mean? Are the nomarchs deceiving me, or am I incompetent?"

The holy prophet fell to thinking.

"Whether they attempt to deceive thee, worthiness," answered he, "I
know not, for I have not examined their acts. It seems to me, however,
that they explain nothing, because they themselves comprehend nothing.
The nomarchs and their scribes," continued the priest, "are like
decurions in an army; each one knows his ten men and reports on them.
Each commands those under him. But the decurion knows not the general
plan made by leaders of the army. The nomarchs and the scribes write
down everything that happens in their province, and lay those reports
at the feet of the pharaoh. But only the supreme council extracts from
them the honey of wisdom."

"But that honey is just what I need," said the prince. "Why do I not
get it?"

Mentezufis shook his head.

"Wisdom of the state," said he, "belongs to the priesthood; therefore
only the man who is devoted to the gods can obtain it. Meanwhile,
worthiness, though reared by priests, Thou pushest thyself away from
the temples decisively."

"How is that? Then, if I do not become a priest, will ye not explain to
me?"

"There are things, worthiness, which Thou mayest know even now, as
erpatr, there are others which Thou wilt know when Thou art the
pharaoh. There are still others which only a high priest may know."

"Every pharaoh is a high priest," interrupted the prince.

"Not every pharaoh. Besides, even among high priests there are grades
of difference."

"Then," cried the enraged heir, "ye hide the order of the state from
me, and I shall not be able to carry out the commands of my father?"

"What the prince needs may be known," answered Mentezufis, quietly,
"for Thou hast the inferior priestly consecration. Those things,
however, are hidden behind the veil in temples, which no one will dare
to draw aside without due preparation."

"I will draw it."

"May the gods defend Egypt from such a misfortune!" replied the priest,
as he raised both his hands. "Dost Thou not know, worthiness, that a
thunderbolt would kill any man who without the needed ceremonies should
touch the veil? Were the prince to take to the temple any slave or
condemned criminal and let him stretch out his hand, the man would die
that same instant."

"For ye would kill him."

"Each one of us would die just like an ordinary criminal were he to
approach the altar sacrilegiously. In presence of the gods, my prince,
a pharaoh or a priest means as little as a slave."

"What am I to do, then?" asked Ramses.

"Seek an answer to thy trouble in the temple, after Thou hast purified
thyself by prayers and fasting," answered the priest. "While Egypt is
Egypt, no ruler has gained wisdom of state in another way."

"I will meditate over this," said the prince. "Though I see from thy
words that the most venerable Mefres, and thou, holy prophet, wish to
involve me in ceremonies as ye have involved my father."

"Not at all. Worthiness, if Thou as pharaoh would limit thyself to
commanding the army, Thou mightst take part in ceremonies a few times a
year merely, for on other occasions the high priest would be thy
substitute. But if Thou wish to learn the secrets of temples, Thou must
honor the gods, for they are the fountain of wisdom."



CHAPTER XXIV

RAMSES saw now that either he would not carry out the commands of the
pharaoh or that he must yield to the will of the priesthood; this
filled him with dislike and anger. Hence he did not hurry toward the
secrets hidden in temples. He had time yet for fasting and devotional
exercises; so he took part all the more zealously in feasts which were
given in his honor.

Tutmosis, a master in every amusement, had just returned, and brought
the prince pleasant news from Sarah. She was in good health and looked
well, which concerned Ramses less at that time. But the priests gave
such a horoscope to the coming child that the prince was delighted.

They assured him that the child would be a son, greatly gifted by the
gods, and if his father loved him he would during life obtain high
honor.

The prince laughed at the second part of this prediction. "Their wisdom
is wonderful," said he to Tutmosis. "They know that it will be a son,
while I, its father, do not know; and they doubt whether I shall love
it, though it is easy to divine that I shall love the child even should
it be a daughter. And as to honor for it, let them be at rest; I will
occupy myself with that question."

In the month Pachons (January, February) the heir passed through the
province of Ka, where he was received by the nomarch Sofra. The city of
Anu lay about seven hours of a foot journey from Atribis, but the
prince was three days on this journey. At thought of the fasts and
prayers which were awaiting him during initiation into temple secrets,
Ramses felt a growing wish for amusements. His retinue divined this;
hence pleasure followed pleasure.

Again, on the road over which he traveled to Atribis, appeared throngs
of people with shouts, flowers, and music. The enthusiasm reached its
height at the city. It even happened that a certain gigantic laborer
threw himself under the chariot of the viceroy. But when Ramses held in
the horses, a number of young women stepped forth from the crowd and
wreathed the whole chariot with flowers.

"Still they love me!" thought the prince.

In the province of Ka he did not ask the nomarch about the income of
the pharaoh, he did not visit factories, he did not command to read
reports to him; he knew that he would understand nothing, so he
deferred those occupations till the time of his initiation. But once,
when he saw that the temple of the god Sebak stood on a lofty eminence,
he desired to ascend the pylon and examine the surrounding country.

The worthy Sofra accomplished at once the will of the heir, who, when
he found himself on the summit of the pylon, passed a couple of hours
with great delight there.

The province of Ka was a fertile plain. A number of canals and branches
of the Nile passed through it in every direction, like a network of
silver and lapis lazuli. Melons and wheat sown in November were
ripening. On the fields were crowds of naked people who were gathering
cucumbers or planting cotton. The land was covered with small buildings
which at points were close together and formed villages.

Most of the dwellings, especially those in the fields, were mud huts
covered with straw and palm leaves. In the towns the houses were
walled, had flat roofs, and looked like white cubes with holes in
places where there were doors and windows. Very often on such a cube
was another somewhat smaller, and on that a third still smaller, and
each story was painted a different color. Under the fiery sun of Egypt
those houses looked like great pearls, sapphires, and rubies, scattered
about on the green of the fields, and surrounded by palms and acacias.

From that place Ramses saw a phenomenon which arrested his attention.
Near the temples the houses were more beautiful, and more people were
moving in the fields about them.

"The lands of the priests are the most valuable," thought he; and once
again he ran over with his eyes the temples great and small, of which
he saw between ten and twenty from the pylon.

But since he had agreed with Herhor, and needed the services of the
priesthood, he did not care to occupy himself longer with that problem.

In the course of the following days the worthy Sofra arranged a series
of hunts for Ramses, setting out toward the east from Atribis. Around
the canals they shot birds with arrows; some they snared in an immense
net trap which took in a number of tens of them, or they let out
falcons against those which were flying at freedom. When the prince's
retinue entered the eastern desert, great hunts began with dogs and
panthers against wild beasts. Of these they killed and seized, in the
course of some days, a couple of hundred.

When the worthy Sofra noticed that the prince had had enough of
amusement in the open air and of company intents, he ceased hunting and
brought his guest by the shortest road to Atribis.

They arrived about four hours after midday, and the nomarch invited all
to a feast in his palace.

He conducted the prince to a bath, he assisted at the bathing, and
brought out from his own chest perfumes wherewith to anoint Ramses.
Then he oversaw the barber who arranged the viceroy's hair; next he
kneeled down on the pavement and implored the prince to accept new
robes from him.

These were a newly woven tunic covered with embroidery, a skirt worked
with pearls, and a mantle interwoven with gold very thickly, but so
delicate that it could be held between a man's ten fingers.

The heir accepted this graciously, declaring that he had never received
a gift of such beauty.

The sun set, and the nomarch conducted the prince to the hall of
entertainment.

It was a large court surrounded by columns and paved with mosaic. All
the walls were covered with paintings representing scenes in the lives
of the ancestors of Sofra; hence expeditions by sea, hunts, and
battles. Over the space, instead of a roof, was a giant butterfly with
many-colored wings which were moved by hidden slaves to freshen the
atmosphere. In bronze holders fastened to the columns blazed bright
tapers which gave out smoke with fragrance.

The hall was divided into two parts: one was empty, the other filled
with chairs and small tables for guests. Aside in the second part rose
a platform on which, under a costly tent with raised sides, was a table
and a couch for Ramses.

At each small table were great vases with palms, acacias, and fig-
trees. The table of the heir was surrounded with plants having needle-
like leaves; these filled the space round about with the odor of
balsam.

The assembled guests greeted the prince with a joyful shout, and when
Ramses occupied his place beneath a baldachin whence there was a view
of the court, his retinue sat down at the tables.

Harps sounded, and ladies entered in rich muslin robes with open
bosoms; precious stones were glittering upon their persons. Four of the
most beautiful surrounded Ramses; the others sat near the dignitaries
of his retinue.

In the air was the fragrance of roses, lilies of the valley, and
violets; the prince felt the throbbing of his temples.

Slaves, male and female, in white, rose-colored, and blue tunics,
brought in cakes, roasted birds, and game, fish, wine, fruits, also
garlands of flowers with which the guests crowned themselves. The
immense butterfly moved its wings more and more quickly, and in the
unoccupied part of the court was a spectacle. In turn appeared dancers,
gymnasts, buffoons, performers of tricks, swordsmen; when any one gave
an unusual proof of dexterity, the spectators threw to him gold rings
or flowers from their garlands.

The feast lasted some hours, interspersedwith shouts of guests wishing
happiness to the prince, and to the nomarch and his family.

Ramses, who was in a reclining position on a couch covered with a
lion's skin which had golden claws, was served by four ladies. One
fanned him; another changed the garland on his head; the other two
offered food to him. Toward the end of the feast the one with whom the
prince talked with most willingness brought a goblet of wine. Ramses
drank half, and gave the remainder to the woman; when she had drunk
that half, he kissed her lips.

Slaves quenched the torches then quickly, the butterfly ceased to move
its wings, there was night in the court, and silence interrupted by the
nervous laughter of women.

All on a sudden the quick tramping of people was heard and a terrible
shouting.

"Let me in!" cried a hoarse voice. "Where is the heir? Where is the
viceroy?"

There was a dreadful disturbance in the hall. Women were terrified; men
called out,

"What is it? An attack on the heir! Hei, guards!"

The sound of broken dishes was heard, and the rattle of chairs.

"Where is the heir?" bellowed the stranger.

"Guards! Defend the life of the heir!" shouted men in the courtyard.

"Light the torches!" called the youthful voice of the heir. "Who is
looking for me? Here I am!"

Torches were brought. In the hall were piles of overturned and broken
furniture behind which guests were in hiding. On the platform the
prince tore away from the women, who screamed while they held to his
legs and arms firmly. Near the prince was Tutmosis, his wig torn, a
bronze pitcher in his hand with which he was ready to open the head of
any one who dared to go nearer the viceroy. At the door of the hall
appeared warriors with swords drawn for action.

"What is this? Who is here?" cried the terrified nomarch.

At last they beheld the author of the disturbance, a gigantic man,
naked, and mud-covered. He had bloody stripes on his shoulders; he was
kneeling on the steps of the platform and stretching his hands toward
Ramses.

"This is the murderer," shouted the nomarch. "Seize him!"

Tutmosis raised his pitcher; soldiers rushed up from the door. The
wounded man fell with his face to the steps, crying,

"Have mercy, sun of Egypt!"

The soldiers were ready to seize him when Ramses pulled himself free of
the women and approached the unfortunate giant.

"Touch him not!" cried Ramses to the warriors. "What dost Thou wish,
man?"

"I wish, lord, to tell thee of the wrongs which we suffer."

At that moment the nomarch stepped up to the viceroy and whispered,

"This is a Hyksos. Look, worthiness, at his shaggy hair and his beard.
But the insolence with which he burst in proves that the criminal is
not a genuine Egyptian."

"Who art thou?" asked Ramses.

"I am Bakura, a laborer in the regiment of diggers in Sochem. We have
no work now, so the nomarch Otoes commanded us."

"He is a drunkard and a madman!" whispered the excited Sofra. "How
dares he speak to thee, lord."

The prince gave such a look to the nomarch that he bent double and
moved backward.

"What did the worthy Otoes command you the workers?" asked the viceroy
of Bakura.

"He commanded us, lord, to go along the bank of the Nile, swim in the
river, stand at the roads, make an uproar in thy honor, and he promised
to give us what was proper for doing so. For two months before that,
we, O lord, received nothing, neither barley cakes, nor fish, nor olive
oil for our bodies."

"What is thy answer to this, worthy lord?" asked the prince of the
nomarch.

"He is a dangerous drunkard, a foul liar," answered Sofra.

"What noise didst Thou make in my honor?"

"That which was commanded," said the giant. "My wife and daughter cried
with the others, 'May he live through eternity!' I sprang into the
water and threw a garland at thy barge, worthiness; for this they
promised an uten. When Thou wert pleased graciously to enter the city
of Atribis, I approached to throw myself under the horses and stop thy
chariot."

The prince laughed.

"As I live," said he, "I did not think that we should end the feast
with such joyousness. But how much did they pay thee for falling under
the chariot?"

"They promised three utens, but have paid nothing to me or my wife or
my daughter. Nothing has been given to the whole regiment of diggers to
eat for two months past."

"On what do ye live then?"

"On begging, or on that which we earn from some earthworker. In this
sore distress we revolted three times, and desired to go home. But the
officers and scribes either promised to give something or commanded to
beat us."

"For the noise made in my honor?" put in the prince, laughing.

"Thy worthiness speaks truth. Yesterday the revolt was greatest, for
which the worthy nomarch Sofra gave command to take the tenth man.
Every tenth man was clubbed, and I got the most, for I am big and have
three mouths to feed, my own, my wife's, and my daughter's. When I was
clubbed I broke away from them to fall down, O lord, in thy presence,
and tell thee our sorrows. Beat us if we are guilty, but let the
scribes give us that which is due, for we are dying of hunger, we, our
wives, and our children."

"This man is possessed!" exclaimed Sofra. "Be pleased, lord, to see the
damage he has wrought here. I would not take ten talents for those
dishes, pitchers, and tables."

Among the guests, who now were recovering their senses, a muttering
began.

"This is a bandit!" said they. "Look at him, really a Hyksos. Boiling
up in him is the cursed blood of his ancestors, the men who invaded and
ruined Egypt. Such costly furniture, such splendid vessels, broken into
fragments!"

"The loss caused the state by one rebellion of unpaid laborers is
greater than the value of these vessels," said Ramses.

"Sacred words! They should be written on monuments," said some among
the guests. "Rebellion takes people from their labor and grieves the
heart of his holiness. It is not proper that laborers should be unpaid
for two months in succession."

The prince looked with contempt on those courtiers, changeable as
clouds; he turned then to the nomarch.

"I give thee," said he, threateningly, "this punished man. I am certain
that a hair of his head will not fall from him. Tomorrow morning I wish
to see the regiment to which he belongs and learn whether he speaks
truth or falsehood."

After these words Ramses went out, leaving the nomarch and the guests
in vexation.

Next morning the prince, while dressing with the aid of Tutmosis, asked
him,

"Have the laborers come?"

"They have, lord; they have been waiting for thy commands since
daybreak."

"And is that man Bakura among them?"

Tutmosis made a wry face and answered,

"A marvelous thing has happened. The worthy Sofra gave command to shut
the fellow up in an empty cellar of the palace. Well, the disorderly
rascal, a very strong man, broke the door to another place where there
is wine; he overturned a number of pots of very costly wine, and got so
drunk that."

"That what?" asked the prince.

"That he perished."

The prince sprang up from his chair.

"And dost them believe that he drank himself to death?"

"I must believe, for I have no proof that they killed him."

"But if I look for proof?" burst out the prince.

He ran through the room, and snorted like an angry lion. When he was
somewhat quieted, Tutmosis added,

"Seek not for proof where it is not to be discovered, for Thou wilt not
find even witnesses. If any man strangled that laborer at command of
the nomarch, he will not confess; the laborer himself is dead, and will
not say anything; besides, what would his complaint against the nomarch
amount to? In these conditions no court would begin to investigate."

"But if I command?" asked the viceroy.

"In that case they will investigate and prove the innocence of Sofra.
Then Thou wilt be put to shame, and all the nomarchs with their
relatives and servants will become thy enemies."

The prince stood in the middle of the chamber and pondered.

"Finally," said Tutmosis, "everything seems to show this, that the
unfortunate Bakura was a drunkard or a maniac, and, above all, a man of
foreign blood. If a genuine Egyptian in his senses were to go without
pay for a year, and be clubbed twice as much as this man, would he dare
to break into the palace of the nomarch and appeal to thee with such an
outcry?"

Ramses bent his head, and seeing that there were nobles in the next
chamber, he said in a voice somewhat lowered,

"Knowest thou, Tutmosis, since I set out on this journey Egypt begins
to appear somehow strange to me? At times I ask my own self if I am not
in some foreign region. Then again my heart is disturbed, as if I had a
curtain before me, behind which all kinds of villainy are practiced,
but which I myself cannot see with my own eyes."

"Then do not look at them; for if Thou do, it will seem at last to thee
that we should all be sent to the quarries," said Tutmosis, smiling.
"Remember that the nomarchs and officials are the shepherds of thy
flock. If one of them takes a measure of milk for himself, or kills a
little sheep, of course Thou wilt not kill him or drive the man away.
Thou hast many sheep, and it is not easy to find shepherds."

The viceroy, now dressed, passed into the hall of waiting, where his
suite stood assembled, priests, officers, and officials. Then he left
the palace with them, and went to the outer courtyard.

That was a broad space, planted with acacias, under the shade of which
the laborers were waiting for the viceroy. At the sound of a trumpet
the whole crowd sprang up, and stood in five ranks before him.

Ramses, attended by a glittering retinue of dignitaries, halted
suddenly, wishing, first of all, to look at the regiment from a
distance. The men were naked, each with a white cap on his head, and
girt about the hips with stuff like that of which the cap was made. In
the ranks Ramses could distinguish easily the brown Egyptian, the
negro, the yellow Asiatic, the white inhabitants of Libya, and also the
Mediterranean islands.

In the first rank stood workers with pickaxes, in the second those with
mattocks, in the third those with shovels. The fourth rank was composed
of carriers, of whom each had a pole and two buckets; the fifth was
also of carriers, but with large boxes borne by two men. These last
carried earth freshly dug.

In front of the ranks, some yards distant, stood the overseers; each
held a long stick in his hand, and either a large wooden circle or a
square measure.

When the prince approached them, they cried in a chorus,

"Live Thou through eternity!" and kneeling, they struck the earth with
their foreheads. The heir commanded them to rise, and surveyed them
again with attention.

They were healthy, strong persons, not looking in the least like men
who had lived two months on begging.

Sofra with his retinue approached the prince. But Ramses, feigning not
to see him, turned to one of the overseers,

"Are ye earth-tillers from Sochem?" inquired he.

The overseer fell at full length with his face to the earth.

The prince shrugged his shoulders, and called out to the laborers,

"Are ye from Sochem?"

"We are earth workers from Sochem," answered they, in chorus.

"Have ye received pay?"

"We have received pay; we are sated and happy servants of his
holiness," answered the chorus, giving out each word with emphasis.

"Turn around!" commanded the prince.

They turned. It is true that each had frequent and deep scars from the
club, but no fresh stripes on their bodies.

"They are deceiving me," thought the heir.

He commanded the laborers to go to their barracks, and, without
greeting the nomarch or taking leave of him, he returned to the palace.

"Wilt thou, too, tell me," said he to Tutmosis on the road, "that those
men are laborers from Sochem?"

"But they say that they are, they themselves give answer," replied the
courtier.

Ramses gave command to bring his horse, and he rode to the army
encamped beyond the city. He reviewed the regiments all day. About
noon, on the field of exercise, appeared, at command of the nomarch,
some tens of carriers with food and wine, tents and furniture. But the
prince sent them back to Atribis; and when the hour came for army food,
he commanded to serve that to him; so he ate dried meat with oat cakes.

These were the mercenary regiments of Libya. When the prince ordered
them to lay aside arms in the evening, and took farewell of the men, it
seemed as though the soldiers and officers had yielded to madness.
Shouting "May he live through eternity!" they kissed his hands and
feet, made a litter of their spears and mantles, and bore him to the
city, disputing on the way with one another for the honor of carrying
the heir on their shoulders.

The nomarch and the officials of the province were frightened, when
they saw the enthusiasm of the Libyans, and the favor which the heir
showed barbarians.

"Here is a ruler!" whispered the chief secretary to Sofra. "If he
wished, those people would kill us and our children."

The troubled nomarch sighed to the gods, and commended himself to their
gracious protection.

Late at night Ramses found himself in his own palace, and there the
servants told him that another bedchamber had been given him.

"Why is this?"

"Because in the first chamber people saw a poisonous serpent, which
hid, and no one could find it."

In a wing near the house of the nomarch was a new sleeping chamber, a
four-cornered room, surrounded by columns on all sides. Its walls were
of alabaster, covered with painted bas-reliefs; below were plants in
vases; higher up garlands of olive and laurel.

Almost in the centre of the room stood a great bed inlaid with ebony,
gold, and ivory. The chamber was lighted by two fragrant tapers; under
the colonnade were small tables with wine, food, and garlands of roses.
In the ceiling was a large quadrangular opening covered with linen.

The prince bathed and lay on the soft bed; his servants went to remote
chambers. The tapers were burning out; cool air filled with the odor of
flowers moved in the chamber. At the same time low music from harps was
heard above him.

Ramses raised his head. The linen canopy of the chamber slipped to one
side, and through the opening he saw the constellation Leo, and in it
the brilliant star Regulus. The music of harps became louder.

"Are the gods preparing to make me a visit?" thought the viceroy, with
a smile.

In the opening of the ceiling shone a broad streak of light; it was
powerful but tempered. A moment later a litter appeared in the form of
a golden boat, bearing a small arbor with flowers in it; the pillars of
the arbor were entwined with garlands of roses, the top of it covered
with lotuses and violets.

On ropes, entwined with green, the golden boat descended to the chamber
in silence. It stopped on the pavement, and from beneath the flowers
came forth a naked maiden of unparalleled beauty. Her body had the
smoothness of marble; from her amber-like waves of hair came an
intoxicating odor.

The maiden stepped from the litter and knelt before Ramses.

"Art Thou the daughter of Sofra?" asked he.

"Thou speakest truth, Lord Ramses."

"And still Thou hast come to me!"

"To implore thee to pardon my father. He is unhappy; since midday he
has been shedding tears and covering his head with ashes."

"And if I would not forgive him, wouldst Thou leave me?"

"No," whispered she.

Ramses drew her toward him and kissed her with passion. His eyes
flashed.

"For this I forgive him."

"Oh, how good Thou art!" cried she, nestling up to Ramses; then she
added with sweetness,

"Wilt Thou command a reward for the damages done by that mad laborer?"

"I will command."

"And wilt Thou take me to thy household?"

Ramses looked at her.

"I will take thee, for Thou art a beauty."

"Really?" asked she, putting her arm around his neck. "Look at me
better. Among the beauties of Egypt I hold only the fourth place."

"What does that mean?"

"In Memphis, or near there, dwells thy first; happily she is only a
Jewess! In Sochem is the second."

"I know nothing of that one," interrupted Ramses.

"Oh, Thou dove! Then surely Thou knowest nothing of the third one in
Ami."

"Does she too belong to my household?"

"Ungrateful!" cried the girl, striking him with a lotus flower. "Thou
wouldst be ready to say the same of me a month hence. But I will not
let myself be injured."

"Like thy father."

"Hast Thou not forgotten him yet? Remember that I will go-"

"Stay, stay!"

Next day the viceroy was pleased to receive homage and a feast from
Sofra. He praised in public the nomarch's government of the province,
and to reward him for the damages caused by the drunken laborer, Ramses
presented him with one-half of the furniture and vessels presented in
Anu.

The second half of those gifts was taken by the beautiful Abeb,
daughter of the nomarch, as lady of the court. Besides, she commanded
that five talents be given her from the treasury of the viceroy, for
clothes, slaves, and horses.

In the evening the prince, while yawning, spoke thus to Tutmosis,

"His holiness my father gave me a great lesson when he said that women
are very costly."

"The position is worse when there are no women," replied the exquisite.

"But I have four, and I do not even know clearly how. I might give thee
two of them."

"And Sarah?"

"Not her, especially if she has a son."

"If Thou wilt assign a good dowry, husbands will be found for those
charmers most easily."

The prince yawned a second time.

"I do not like to hear of dowries," said he. "Aaa! What luck, that I
shall tear away from thee and settle among the priests!"

"Wilt Thou indeed?"

"I must. At last I shall learn of them why the pharaohs are growing
poorer. Well, I shall sleep."



CHAPTER XXV

THAT same day, in Memphis, Dagon the Phoenician, the viceroy's worthy
banker, lay on a couch under the veranda of his mansion. Around him
were fragrant potted bushes with needle-like leaves. Two black slaves
cooled the rich man with fans, and he, while playing with a young ape,
was listening to accounts read by his scribe to him.

At that moment a slave with a sword, helmet, dart, and shield (the
banker loved military dress), announced the worthy Rabsun, a Phoenician
merchant then settled in Memphis.

The guest entered, bowed profoundly, and dropped his eyelids in such
fashion that Dagon commanded the scribe and the slaves to withdraw from
the veranda. Then, as a man of foresight, he surveyed every corner, and
said to the visitor,

"We may talk."

Rabsun began without prelude,

"Dost thou know, worthiness, that Prince Hiram has come from Tyre?"

Dagon sprang up from the couch.

"May the leprosy seize him and his princeship!" shouted the banker.

"He has just reminded me," continued the guest, calmly, "that there is
a misunderstanding between him and thee."

"What misunderstanding?" cried Dagon. "That thief has robbed,
destroyed, ruined me. When I sent my ships after other Tyrian vessels
to the west for silver, the helmsmen of that thief Hiram cast fire on
them, tried to push them into a shallow. Well, my ships came back
empty, burnt, and shattered. May the fire of heaven burn him!"
concluded the raging banker.

"But if Hiram has for thee a profitable business?" inquired the guest,
stolidly.

The storm raging in Dagon's breast ceased on a sudden.

"What business can he offer me?" asked the banker, with a voice now
calmed completely.

"He will tell this himself, but first he must see thee."

"Well, let him come to me."

"He thinks that Thou shouldst go to him. He, as is known to thee, is a
member of the chief council of Tyre."

"He will perish before I go to him," cried the banker, enraged a second
time.

The guest drew an armchair to the couch, and slapped Dagon's thigh.

"Dagon," said he, "have sense."

"Why have I not sense, and why dost thou, Rabsun, not say to me
worthiness?"

"Dagon, be not foolish!" answered the guest. "If Thou wilt not go to
him and he will not come to thee, how will ye do business?"

"Thou art foolish, Rabsun!" burst out Dagon again. "Before I go to
Hiram let my hand wither; with that politeness I should lose half the
profit."

The guest thought awhile.

"Now Thou hast uttered a wise word," said he; "so I will tell thee
something. Come to me and Hiram will come also; ye can talk of that
business in my house."

Dagon bent his head, and half closing his eyes, inquired roguishly,

"Ei, Rabsun! Tell outright how much did he give thee?"

"For what?"

"For this, that I should come to thy house and transact business with
him, the mangy scoundrel."

"This business interests all Phoenicia, so I need no profit on it,"
replied the indignant Rabsun.

"That is as true as that all thy debtors will pay thee."

"May they fail to pay me if I make anything in this! Only let not
Phoenicia lose!" cried Rabsun, in anger.

They took farewell of each other.

Toward evening the worthy Dagon seated himself in a litter carried by
six slaves. He was preceded by two outrunners with staffs, and two with
torches; behind the litter went four men armed from head to foot. Not
for security, but because for a certain time Dagon loved to surround
himself with armed men, like a noble.

He came out of the litter with great importance, supported by two men;
a third carried a parasol over him. He entered Rabsun's house.

"Where is that Hiram?" inquired he, haughtily.

"He is not here?"

"How is this? Must I wait for him, then?"

"He is not in this room, but he is in the third one talking with my
wife," answered the host. "He is making a visit to my wife."

"I will not go there!" said the banker, sitting down on a couch.

"Thou wilt go to the next chamber, and he will enter it at the same
time with thee."

After a short resistance Dagon yielded, and a moment later, at a sign
from the master of the house, he entered the second chamber. At the
same time from distant apartments appeared a man, not of tall stature,
with gray beard, dressed in a gold-embroidered toga, and with a gold
band on his head.

"This is," said the host, standing in the middle of the room, "his
grace Prince Hiram, a member of the supreme council of Tyre. This is
the worthy Dagon, banker of the heir to the throne, and viceroy of
Lower Egypt."

The two dignitaries bowed, each with his hand on his breast, and both
sat down on stools in the middle of the chamber. Hiram pushed aside his
toga somewhat in order to show the great gold medal on his breast; in
answer to this Dagon began to toy with a large gold chain which he had
received from Prince Ramses.

"I, Hiram," said the old man, "congratulate thee, Lord Dagon. I wish
thee much property, and success in thy business."

"I, Dagon, congratulate thee, Lord Hiram, and I wish thee the same as
Thou wishest me."

"Dost Thou desire to dispute?" interrupted Hiram, irritated.

"How dispute? Rabsun, say if I am disputing."

"Better talk of business, your worthinesses," replied the host.

After a moment of thought Hiram proceeded,

"Thy friends in Tyre congratulate thee greatly through me."

"Is that all they have sent me?" asked Dagon, in reviling accents.

"What didst Thou wish?" inquired Hiram, raising his voice.

"Quiet! Concord!" put in the host.

Hiram sighed a number of times deeply, and said,

"It is true that we need concord. Evil times are approaching
Phoenicia."

"Has the sea flooded Tyre and Sidon?" asked Dagon, smiling.

Hiram spat, and inquired,

"Why art Thou so ill-tempered today?"

"I am always ill-tempered when men do not call me worthiness."

"But why dost Thou not say grace to me? I am a prince."

"Perhaps in Phoenicia. But in Assyria Thou wouldst wait three days in
the forecourt of any satrap for an audience, and when he deigned to
receive thee Thou wouldst be lying on thy belly, like any Phoenician
merchant."

"But what couldst Thou do in presence of a wild man who would perhaps
impale thee on a stake?" inquired Hiram.

"What I would do, I know not. But in Egypt I sit on one sofa with the
heir to the throne, who today is viceroy."

"Concord, worthiness! Concord, grace!" said the host.

"Concord! concord, because this man is a common Phoenician merchant,
and is unwilling to render me respect," cried out Dagon.

"I have a hundred ships!" shouted Hiram.

"And his holiness has twenty thousand cities, towns, and villages."

"Your worthinesses are destroying this business and all Phoenicia,"
said Rabsun, with a voice which was loud now.

Hiram balled his fists, but was silent.

"Thou must confess, worthiness," said he, after a while, "that of those
twenty thousand towns his holiness owns few in reality."

"Thou wishest to say, grace," answered Dagon, "that seven thousand
belong to the temples, and seven thousand to great lords. Still six
thousand belong clearly to his holiness."

"Not altogether! For when Thou takest, worthiness, about three thousand
which are mortgaged to the priests, and two thousand which are rented
to our Phoenicians."

"Thou speakest the truth, grace," said Dagon. "But there remain always
to his holiness about two thousand very rich cities."

"Has Typhon possessed thee?" roared Rabsun, in his turn. "Wilt Thou go
now to counting the cities of the pharaoh, may he."

"Pst!" whispered Dagon, springing up.

"When misfortune is hanging over Phoenicia" finished Rabsun.

"Let me but know what the misfortune is," interrupted Dagon.

"Then let Hiram speak and Thou wilt know."

"Let him speak."

"Dost Thou know, worthiness, what happened in the inn 'Under the Ship'
to our brother Asarhadon?" began Hiram.

"I have no brothers among innkeepers," interrupted Dagon, sneeringly.

"Be silent!" screamed Rabsun, in anger; and he grasped the hilt of his
dagger. "Thou art as dull as a dog barking in sleep."

"Why is he angry, that that dealer in bones?" inquired Dagon; and he
reached for his knife also.

"Quiet! Concord!" said the gray-headed prince; and he dropped his lean
hand to his girdle.

For a while the nostrils of all three men were quivering and their eyes
flashing. At last Hiram, who calmed himself first, began again, as if
nothing had happened.

"A couple of months ago, in Asarhadon's inn, lodged a certain Phut from
the city of Harran."

"He had to receive five talents from some priest," interrupted Dagon.

"What further?" asked Hiram.

"Nothing. He found favor with a certain priestess, and at her advice
went to seek his debtor in Thebes."

"Thou hast the mind of a child and the talkativeness of a woman," said
Hiram. "This Harran man is not from Harran at all. He is a Chaldean,
and his name is not Phut, but Beroes."

"Beroes? Beroes?" repeated Dagon, trying to remember. "I have heard
that name in some place."

"Thou hast heard it!" repeated Hiram, with contempt. "Beroes is the
wisest priest in Babylon, the counselor of Assyrian princes and of the
king himself."

"Let him be counselor; if he is not the pharaoh, what do I care?" said
the banker.

Rabsun rose from his chair, and threatening Dagon with his fist under
the nose, cried,

"Thou wild boar, fatted on the pharaoh's swill, Phoenicia concerns thee
as much as Egypt concerns me. Thou wouldst sell thy country for a
drachma hadst Thou the chance, leprous cur that Thou art!"

Dagon grew pale and answered with a calm voice,

"What is that huckster saying? In Tyre my sons are learning navigation;
in Sidon lives my daughter with her husband. I have lent half my
property to the supreme council, though I do not receive even ten per
cent for it. And this huckster says that Phoenicia does not concern
me!"

"Rabsun, listen to me," added he, after a while. "I wish thy wife and
children and the shades of thy fathers to be as much thought of by thee
as each Phoenician ship is by me, or each stone of Tyre and Sidon, or
even of Zarpath and Achsibu."

"Dagon, tell truth," put in Hiram.

"I not care for Phoenicia!" continued the banker, growing excited. "How
many Phoenicians have I brought here to make property, and what do I
gain from having done so! I not care? Hiram ruined two ships of mine
and deprived me of great profit; still, when Phoenicia is in question,
I sit in one room with him."

"For Thou didst think to talk with him of cheating some one," said
Rabsun.

"As much as Thou didst think of dying, fool!" retorted Dagon. "Am I a
child? do I not understand that when Hiram comes to Memphis he need not
come for traffic? O Thou Rabsun! Thou shouldst clean my stables a
couple of years."

"Enough of this!" cried Hiram, striking the table with his fist.

"We never shall finish with this Chaldean priest," muttered Rabsun,
with as much calmness as if he had not been insulted a moment before.

Hiram coughed, and said,

"That man has a house and land really in Harran, and he is called Phut
there. He got letters from Hittite merchants to merchants in Sidon, so
our caravans took him for the journey. He speaks Phoenician well, he
pays liberally. He made no demands in particular; so our people came to
like him, even much.

"But," continued Hiram, stroking his beard, "when a lion covers himself
with an ox skin, even a little of his tail will stick out. This Phut
was wonderfully wise and self-confident; so the chief of the caravan
examined his effects in secret, and found nothing save a medal of the
goddess Astaroth. This medal pricked the heart of the leader of the
caravan: 'How could a Hittite have a Phoenician medal?'

"So when they came to Sidon he reported straightway to the elders, and
thenceforth our secret police kept this Phut in view.

"Meanwhile he is such a sage that when he had remained some days all
came to like him. He prayed and offered sacrifices to the goddess
Astaroth, paid in gold, borrowed no money, associated only with
Phoenicians. And he so befogged all that watchfulness touching him was
weakened, and he went in peace to Memphis.

"In this place again our elders began to watch him, but discovered
nothing; they divined simply that he must be a great lord, not a simple
man of Harran. But Asarhadon discovered by chance, and did not even
discover, he only came on traces, that this pretended Phut passed a
whole night in the ancient temple of Set, which here is greatly
venerated.

"Only high priests enter it for important counsels," interrupted Dagon.

"And that alone would mean nothing," said Hiram. "But one of our
merchants returned a month ago from Babylon with wonderful tidings. In
return for a great present a certain attendant of the Satrap of Babylon
informed him that misfortune was threatening Phoenicia.

"Assyria will take you," said the attendant, "and Egypt will take
Israel. On that business the Chaldean high priest Beroes has gone to
the priests of Thebes, and with them he will make a treaty."

"Ye must know," continued Hiram, "that Chaldean priests consider the
priests in Egypt as their brothers, and that Beroes enjoys great esteem
in the Court of King Assar, so reports concerning that treaty may be
very truthful."

"Why does Assyria want Phoenicia?" inquired Dagon, as he bit his
finger-nails.

"Why does a thief want another man's granary?" replied Hiram.

"What good is a treaty made by Beroes with Egyptian priests?" put in
Rabsun, thinking deeply.

"Thou art dull!" answered Dagon. "Pharaoh does nothing except what the
priests ordain."

"There will be a treaty with the pharaoh, never fear!" interrupted
Hiram. "We know to a certainty in Tyre that the Assyrian ambassador
Sargon is coming to Egypt with gifts and with a great retinue. He
pretends that it is to see Egypt and agree with 'ministers, not to
inscribe in Egyptian acts that Assyria pays tribute to the pharaohs.
But in fact he is coming to conclude a treaty about dividing the
countries which lie between our sea and the Euphrates River."

"May the earth swallow them!" imprecated Rabsun.

"What dost Thou think of this Dagon?" inquired Hiram.

"But what would ye do if Assar attacked you really?"

Hiram shook his head with anger.

"What? We should go on board of ships with our families and treasures
and leave to those dogs the ruins of cities and the rotting corpses of
slaves. Do we not know greater and more beautiful countries than
Phoenicia, where we can begin a new and richer fatherland?"

"May the gods guard us from such a thing," said Dagon.

"This is just the question, to save the present Phoenicia from
destruction," said Hiram. "And thou, Dagon, art able to do much in this
matter."

"What can I do?"

"Thou mayst learn from the priests whether Beroes met them, and whether
he and they made an agreement."

"A terribly difficult thing," whispered Dagon. "But I may find a priest
who will tell me."

"Thou canst prevent at the court of the pharaoh a treaty with Sargon,"
continued Hiram.

"It is very difficult. I could not do that unassisted."

"I will be with thee, and Phoenicia will find the gold. A tax is in
course of collection at present."

"I have given two talents!" whispered Rabsun.

"I will give ten," added Dagon. "But what shall I get for my labor?"

"What? Well, ten ships," answered Hiram.

"And how much wilt Thou gain?" inquired Dagon.

"Is ten not enough? Thou wilt get fifteen."

"I ask, what wilt Thou get?" insisted Dagon.

"We will give twenty ships. Does that suffice thee?"

"Let it be so. But will ye show my ships the road to the country of
silver?"

"We will show it."

"And the place where ye get tin? Well."

"And the place where amber is found?" continued Dagon.

"May Thou perish at once!" answered the gracious Prince Hiram,
extending his hand. "But Thou wilt not keep up a malignant heart toward
me because of those two little flat boats?"

Dagon sighed.

"I will work to forget. But what a property I should have now if Thou
hadst not driven them off at that time!"

"Enough!" interrupted Rabsun; "talk of Phoenicia."

"Through whom wilt Thou learn of Beroes and the treaty?" asked Hiram of
Dagon.

"Let that drop. It is dangerous to speak of it, for priests will be
involved in the matter."

"And through whom couldst Thou ruin the treaty?"

"I think I think that perhaps through the heir to the throne. I have
many notes of his."

Hiram raised his hand, and replied,

"The heir very well, for he will be pharaoh, perhaps even soon."

"Pst!" interrupted Dagon, striking the table with his fist. "May Thou
lose speech for such language!"

"Here is a wild boar for thee!" cried Rabsun, threatening the banker's
nose.

"And Thou art a dull huckster," answered Dagon, with a reviling laugh.
"Thou, Rabsun, shouldst sell dried fish and water on the streets, but
not mix up in questions between states. An ox hoof rubbed in Egyptian
mud has more sense than thou, though Thou 'art living five years in the
capital of light! Oh that pigs might devour thee!"

"Quiet! quiet!" called Hiram. "Ye do not let me finish."

"Speak, for Thou art wise and my heart understands thee," said Rabsun.

"If thou, Dagon, hast influence over the heir, that is well," continued
Hiram. "For if the heir wishes to have a treaty with Assyria there will
be a treaty, and besides one written with our blood on our own skins.
But if the heir wishes war with Assyria, he will make war, though the
priests were to summon all the gods against him."

H

"Pst!" interrupted Dagon. "If the priests wish greatly, there will be a
treaty. But perhaps they will not wish."

"Therefore, Dagon, we must have all the military leaders with us," said
Hiram.

"We can."

"And the nomarchs."

"We can have them too."

"And the heir," continued Hiram.

"But if Thou alone urge him to war with Assyria, that is nothing. A
man, like a harp, has many strings, and to play on them fingers are
needed, while thou, Dagon, art only one finger."

"But I cannot tear myself into ten parts."

"Thou mayst be like one hand which has five fingers. Thou must so act
that no one may suspect that Thou art for war, but every cook in the
heir's kitchen must want war, every barber of his must want war, all
the bath men, and litter-bearers, scribes, officers, charioteers must
want war with Assyria; the heir should hear war from morning till
night, and even when he is sleeping."

"That will be done."

"But dost Thou know his mistresses?" asked Hiram.

Dagon waved his hand.

"Stupid girls!" said he. "They think only about dressing, painting, and
perfuming themselves; but whence these perfumes come, and who brings
them to Egypt, they know not."

"We must give him a favorite who will know."

"Where shall we find her?" asked Dagon. "Ah, I have it!" cried he,
stroking his forehead. "Dost Thou know Kama, the priestess of
Astaroth?"

"What?" interrupted Rabsun, astounded. "The priestess of the holy
goddess Astaroth to be a favorite of an Egyptian?"

"Thou wouldst prefer that she were thine," sneered Dagon. "She can even
cease to be high priestess when it is necessary to bring her near the
court."

"Thou speakest truth," said Hiram.

"But that is sacrilege!" said Rabsun, indignantly.

"And the priestess who commits it is to die," said the gray-haired
Hiram.

"If only that Jewess, Sarah, does not hinder," added Dagon, after a
moment of silence. "She is waiting for a child to which the prince is
attached already. If a son is born, all our plans may be thwarted."

"We shall have money for Sarah too," added Hiram.

"She will take nothing!" burst out Dagon. "That pitiful creature has
refused gold and a precious goblet, which I carried to her."

"She did, for she thought that Thou hadst the wish to deceive her,"
remarked Rabsun.

Hiram nodded.

"There is no cause for trouble," said he. "Where gold has not power,
then the father, the mother, or the mistress may have it. And if the
mistress is powerless, there is still."

"The knife," hissed Rabsun.

"Poison," whispered Dagon.

"A knife is a very rude weapon," concluded Hiram.

He stroked his beard, thought awhile; at last he rose, took from his
bosom a purple ribbon on which were fastened three golden amulets with
a portrait of the goddess Astaroth. He drew from his girdle a knife,
cut the ribbon into three parts, and gave two of these with the amulets
to Dagon and Rabsun.

Then all three went to the middle of the room to the corner where stood
a winged statue of the goddess; they put their hands on the statue, and
Hiram repeated in a low voice, but clearly,

"To thee, Mother of Life, we swear faithfully to observe our
agreements, and not to rest till the sacred places be secure from
enemies, may they be destroyed by hunger, fire, and pestilence.

"And should one of us fail in his obligations, or betray a secret, may
all calamities and disgrace fall on him! May hunger twist his entrails,
and sleep flee from his bloodshot eyes! May the hand of the man wither
who hastens to him with rescue and pities him in his misery! May the
bread on his table turn into rottenness, and the wine into stinking
juice! May his children die out, and his house be filled with bastards
who will spit on him and expel him! May he die groaning through many
days in loneliness, and may neither earth nor water receive his vile
carcass, may no fire burn it, no wild beasts devour it!"

"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, an