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diff --git a/2856-h/2856-h.htm b/2856-h/2856-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dfbe8ac --- /dev/null +++ b/2856-h/2856-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13597 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Moon of Israel, by H. 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Rider Haggard</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Moon of Israel</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: H. Rider Haggard</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: October, 2001 [eBook #2856]<br /> +[Most recently updated: January 23, 2022]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: John Bickers, Dagny, Emma Dudding and David Widger</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOON OF ISRAEL ***</div> + +<h1>Moon of Israel</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">by H. Rider Haggard</h2> + +<hr /> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">CHAPTER I. SCRIBE ANA COMES TO TANIS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">CHAPTER II. THE BREAKING OF THE CUP</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">CHAPTER III. USERTI</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap04">CHAPTER IV. THE COURT OF BETROTHAL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap05">CHAPTER V. THE PROPHECY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap06">CHAPTER VI. THE LAND OF GOSHEN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap07">CHAPTER VII. THE AMBUSH</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap08">CHAPTER VIII. SETI COUNSELS PHARAOH</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap09">CHAPTER IX. THE SMITING OF AMON</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap10">CHAPTER X. THE DEATH OF PHARAOH</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap11">CHAPTER XI. THE CROWNING OF AMENMESES</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap12">CHAPTER XII. THE MESSAGE OF JABEZ</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap13">CHAPTER XIII. THE RED NILE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap14">CHAPTER XIV. KI COMES TO MEMPHIS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap15">CHAPTER XV. THE NIGHT OF FEAR</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap16">CHAPTER XVI. JABEZ SELLS HORSES</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap17">CHAPTER XVII. THE DREAM OF MERAPI</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap18">CHAPTER XVIII. THE CROWNING OF MERAPI</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p class="noindent"> +AUTHOR’S NOTE<br /> + +This book suggests that the real Pharaoh of the Exodus was not Meneptah or +Merenptah, son of Rameses the Great, but the mysterious usurper, +Amenmeses, who for a year or two occupied the throne between the death of +Meneptah and the accession of his son the heir-apparent, the +gentle-natured Seti II.<br /><br /> + +Of the fate of Amenmeses history says nothing; he may well have perished +in the Red Sea or rather the Sea of Reeds, for, unlike those of Meneptah +and the second Seti, his body has not been found.<br /><br /> + +Students of Egyptology will be familiar with the writings of the scribe +and novelist Anana, or Ana as he is here called.<br /><br /> + +It was the Author’s hope to dedicate this story to Sir Gaston Maspero, +K.C.M.G., Director of the Cairo Museum, with whom on several occasions he +discussed its plot some years ago. Unhappily, however, weighed down by one +of the bereavements of the war, this great Egyptologist died in the +interval between its writing and its publication. Still, since Lady +Maspero informs him that such is the wish of his family, he adds the +dedication which he had proposed to offer to that eminent writer and +student of the past.<br /><br /><br /> + +Dear Sir Gaston Maspero,<br /><br /> + +When you assured me as to a romance of mine concerning ancient Egypt, that +it was so full of the “inner spirit of the old Egyptians” that, after +kindred efforts of your own and a lifetime of study, you could not +conceive how it had been possible for it to spring from the brain of a +modern man, I thought your verdict, coming from such a judge, one of the +greatest compliments that ever I received. It is this opinion of yours +indeed which induces me to offer you another tale of a like complexion. +Especially am I encouraged thereto by a certain conversation between us in +Cairo, while we gazed at the majestic countenance of the Pharaoh Meneptah, +for then it was, as you may recall, that you said you thought the plan of +this book probable and that it commended itself to your knowledge of those +dim days.<br /><br /> + +With gratitude for your help and kindness and the sincerest homage to your +accumulated lore concerning the most mysterious of all the perished +peoples of the earth,<br /><br /> + +Believe me to remain<br /><br /> + +Your true admirer,<br /><br /> + +H. Rider Haggard.<br /><br /> +</p> +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap01"></a>CHAPTER I.<br /> +SCRIBE ANA COMES TO TANIS</h2> + +<p> +This is the story of me, Ana the scribe, son of Meri, and of certain of the +days that I have spent upon the earth. These things I have written down now +that I am very old in the reign of Rameses, the third of that name, when Egypt +is once more strong and as she was in the ancient time. I have written them +before death takes me, that they may be buried with me in death, for as my +spirit shall arise in the hour of resurrection, so also these my words may +arise in their hour and tell to those who shall come after me upon the earth of +what I knew upon the earth. Let it be as Those in heaven shall decree. At least +I write and what I write is true. +</p> + +<p> +I tell of his divine Majesty whom I loved and love as my own soul, Seti +Meneptah the second, whose day of birth was my day of birth, the Hawk who has +flown to heaven before me; of Userti the Proud, his queen, she who afterwards +married his divine Majesty, Saptah, whom I saw laid in her tomb at Thebes. I +tell of Merapi, who was named Moon of Israel, and of her people, the Hebrews, +who dwelt for long in Egypt and departed thence, having paid us back in loss +and shame for all the good and ill we gave them. I tell of the war between the +gods of Egypt and the god of Israel, and of much that befell therein. +</p> + +<p> +Also I, the King’s Companion, the great scribe, the beloved of the +Pharaohs who have lived beneath the sun with me, tell of other men and matters. +Behold! is it not written in this roll? Read, ye who shall find it in the days +unborn, if your gods have given you skill. Read, O children of the future, and +learn the secrets of that past which to you is so far away and yet in truth so +near. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +As it chanced, although the Prince Seti and I were born upon the same day and +therefore, like the other mothers of gentle rank whose children saw the light +upon that day, my mother received Pharaoh’s gift and I received the title +of Royal Twin in Ra, never did I set eyes upon the divine Prince Seti until the +thirtieth birthday of both of us. All of which happened thus. +</p> + +<p> +In those days the great Pharaoh, Rameses the second, and after him his son +Meneptah who succeeded when he was already old, since the mighty Rameses was +taken to Osiris after he had counted one hundred risings of the Nile, dwelt for +the most part at the city of Tanis in the desert, whereas I dwelt with my +parents at the ancient, white-walled city of Memphis on the Nile. At times +Meneptah and his court visited Memphis, as also they visited Thebes, where this +king lies in his royal tomb to-day. But save on one occasion, the young Prince +Seti, the heir-apparent, the Hope of Egypt, came not with them, because his +mother, Asnefert, did not favour Memphis, where some trouble had befallen her +in youth—they say it was a love matter that cost the lover his life and +her a sore heart—and Seti stayed with his mother who would not suffer him +out of sight of her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Once he came indeed when he was fifteen years of age, to be proclaimed to the +people as son of his father, as Son of the Sun, as the future wearer of the +Double Crown, and then we, his twins in Ra—there were nineteen of us who +were gently born—were called by name to meet him and to kiss his royal +feet. I made ready to go in a fine new robe embroidered in purple with the name +of Seti and my own. But on that very morning by the gift of some evil god I was +smitten with spots all over my face and body, a common sickness that affects +the young. So it happened that I did not see the Prince, for before I was well +again he had left Memphis. +</p> + +<p> +Now my father Meri was a scribe of the great temple of Ptah, and I was brought +up to his trade in the school of the temple, where I copied many rolls and also +wrote out Books of the Dead which I adorned with paintings. Indeed, in this +business I became so clever that, after my father went blind some years before +his death, I earned enough to keep him, and my sisters also until they married. +Mother I had none, for she was gathered to Osiris while I was still very +little. So life went on from year to year, but in my heart I hated my lot. +While I was still a boy there rose up in me a desire—not to copy what +others had written, but to write what others should copy. I became a dreamer of +dreams. Walking at night beneath the palm-trees upon the banks of the Nile I +watched the moon shining upon the waters, and in its rays I seemed to see many +beautiful things. Pictures appeared there which were different from any that I +saw in the world of men, although in them were men and women and even gods. +</p> + +<p> +Of these pictures I made stories in my heart and at last, although that was not +for some years, I began to write these stories down in my spare hours. My +sisters found me doing so and told my father, who scolded me for such +foolishness which he said would never furnish me with bread and beer. But still +I wrote on in secret by the light of the lamp in my chamber at night. Then my +sisters married, and one day my father died suddenly while he was reciting +prayers in the temple. I caused him to be embalmed in the best fashion and +buried with honour in the tomb he had made ready for himself, although to pay +the costs I was obliged to copy Books of the Dead for nearly two years, working +so hard that I found no time for the writing of stories. +</p> + +<p> +When at length I was free from debt I met a maiden from Thebes with a beautiful +face that always seemed to smile, and she took my heart from my breast into her +own. In the end, after I returned from fighting in the war against the Nine Bow +Barbarians, to which I was summoned like other men, I married her. As for her +name, let it be, I will not think of it even to myself. We had one child, a +little girl which died within two years of her birth, and then I learned what +sorrow can mean to man. At first my wife was sad, but her grief departed with +time and she smiled again as she used to do. Only she said that she would bear +no more children for the gods to take. Having little to do she began to go +about the city and make friends whom I did not know, for of these, being a +beautiful woman, she found many. The end of it was that she departed back to +Thebes with a soldier whom I had never seen, for I was always working at home +thinking of the babe who was dead and how happiness is a bird that no man can +snare, though sometimes, of its own will, it flies in at his window-place. +</p> + +<p> +It was after this that my hair went white before I had counted thirty years. +</p> + +<p> +Now, as I had none to work for and my wants were few and simple, I found more +time for the writing of stories which, for the most part, were somewhat sad. +One of these stories a fellow scribe borrowed from me and read aloud to a +company, whom it pleased so much that there were many who asked leave to copy +it and publish it abroad. So by degrees I became known as a teller of tales, +which tales I caused to be copied and sold, though out of them I made but +little. Still my fame grew till on a day I received a message from the Prince +Seti, my twin in Ra, saying that he had read certain of my writings which +pleased him much and that it was his wish to look upon my face. I thanked him +humbly by the messenger and answered that I would travel to Tanis and wait upon +his Highness. First, however, I finished the longest story which I had yet +written. It was called the Tale of Two Brothers, and told how the faithless +wife of one of them brought trouble on the other, so that he was killed. Of +how, also, the just gods brought him to life again, and many other matters. +This story I dedicated to his Highness, the Prince Seti, and with it in the +bosom of my robe I travelled to Tanis, having hidden about me a sum of gold +that I had saved. +</p> + +<p> +So I came to Tanis at the beginning of winter and, walking to the palace of the +Prince, boldly demanded an audience. But now my troubles began, for the guards +and watchmen thrust me from the doors. In the end I bribed them and was +admitted to the antechambers, where were merchants, jugglers, dancing-women, +officers, and many others, all of them, it seemed, waiting to see the Prince; +folk who, having nothing to do, pleased themselves by making mock of me, a +stranger. When I had mixed with them for several days, I gained their +friendship by telling to them one of my stories, after which I was always +welcome among them. Still I could come no nearer to the Prince, and as my store +of money was beginning to run low, I bethought me that I would return to +Memphis. +</p> + +<p> +One day, however, a long-bearded old man, with a gold-tipped wand of office, +who had a bull’s head embroidered on his robe, stopped in front of me +and, calling me a white-headed crow, asked me what I was doing hopping day by +day about the chambers of the palace. I told him my name and business and he +told me his, which it seemed was Pambasa, one of the Prince’s +chamberlains. When I asked him to take me to the Prince, he laughed in my face +and said darkly that the road to his Highness’s presence was paved with +gold. I understood what he meant and gave him a gift which he took as readily +as a cock picks corn, saying that he would speak of me to his master and that I +must come back again. +</p> + +<p> +I came thrice and each time that old cock picked more corn. At last I grew +enraged and, forgetting where I was, began to shout at him and call him a +thief, so that folks gathered round to listen. This seemed to frighten him. At +first he looked towards the door as though to summon the guard to thrust me +out; then changed his mind, and in a grumbling voice bade me follow him. We +went down long passages, past soldiers who stood at watch in them still as +mummies in their coffins, till at length we came to some broidered curtains. +Here Pambasa whispered to me to wait, and passed through the curtains which he +left not quite closed, so that I could see the room beyond and hear all that +took place there. +</p> + +<p> +It was a small room like to that of any scribe, for on the tables were +palettes, pens of reed, ink in alabaster vases, and sheets of papyrus pinned +upon boards. The walls were painted, not as I was wont to paint the Books of +the Dead, but after the fashion of an earlier time, such as I have seen in +certain ancient tombs, with pictures of wild fowl rising from the swamps and of +trees and plants as they grow. Against the walls hung racks in which were +papyrus rolls, and on the hearth burned a fire of cedar-wood. +</p> + +<p> +By this fire stood the Prince, whom I knew from his statues. His years appeared +fewer than mine although we were born upon the same day, and he was tall and +thin, very fair also for one of our people, perhaps because of the Syrian blood +that ran in his veins. His hair was straight and brown like to that of northern +folk who come to trade in the markets of Egypt, and his eyes were grey rather +than black, set beneath somewhat prominent brows such as those of his father, +Meneptah. His face was sweet as a woman’s, but made curious by certain +wrinkles which ran from the corners of the eyes towards the ears. I think that +these came from the bending of the brow in thought, but others say that they +were inherited from an ancestress on the female side. Bakenkhonsu my friend, +the old prophet who served under the first Seti and died but the other day, +having lived a hundred and twenty years, told me that he knew her before she +was married, and that she and her descendant, Seti, might have been twins. +</p> + +<p> +In his hand the Prince held an open roll, a very ancient writing as I, who am +skilled in such matters that have to do with my trade, knew from its +appearance. Lifting his eyes suddenly from the study of this roll, he saw the +chamberlain standing before him. +</p> + +<p> +“You came at a good time, Pambasa,” he said in a voice that was +very soft and pleasant, and yet most manlike. “You are old and doubtless +wise. Say, are you wise, Pambasa?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, your Highness. I am wise like your Highness’s uncle, Khaemuas +the mighty magician, whose sandals I used to clean when I was young.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it so? Then why are you so careful to hide your wisdom which should +be open like a flower for us poor bees to suck at? Well, I am glad to learn +that you are wise, for in this book of magic that I have been reading I find +problems worthy of Khaemuas the departed, whom I only remember as a brooding, +black-browed man much like my cousin, Amenmeses his son—save that no one +can call Amenmeses wise.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why is your Highness glad?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because you, being by your own account his equal, can now interpret the +matter as Khaemuas would have done. You know, Pambasa, that had he lived he +would have been Pharaoh in place of my father. He died too soon, however, which +proves to me that there was something in this tale of his wisdom, since no +really wise man would ever wish to be Pharaoh of Egypt.” +</p> + +<p> +Pambasa stared with his mouth open. +</p> + +<p> +“Not wish to be Pharaoh!” he began— +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Pambasa the Wise,” went on the Prince as though he had not +heard him. “Listen. This old book gives a charm ‘to empty the heart +of its weariness,’ that it says is the oldest and most common sickness in +the world from which only kittens, some children, and mad people are free. It +appears that the cure for this sickness, so says the book, is to stand on the +top of the pyramid of Khufu at midnight at that moment when the moon is largest +in the whole year, and drink from the cup of dreams, reciting meanwhile a spell +written here at length in language which I cannot read.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is no virtue in spells, Prince, if anyone can read them.” +</p> + +<p> +“And no use, it would seem, if they can be read by none.” +</p> + +<p> +“Moreover, how can any one climb the pyramid of Khufu, which is covered +with polished marble, even in the day let alone at midnight, your Highness, and +there drink of the cup of dreams?” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know, Pambasa. All I know is that I weary of this foolishness, +and of the world. Tell me of something that will lighten my heart, for it is +heavy.” +</p> + +<p> +“There are jugglers without, Prince, one of whom says he can throw a rope +into the air and climb up it until he vanishes into heaven.” +</p> + +<p> +“When he has done it in your sight, Pambasa, bring him to me, but not +before. Death is the only rope by which we climb to heaven—or be lowered +into hell. For remember there is a god called Set, after whom, like my +great-grandfather, I am named by the way—the priests alone know +why—as well as one called Osiris.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then there are the dancers, Prince, and among them some very finely made +girls, for I saw them bathing in the palace lake, such as would have delighted +the heart of your grandfather, the great Rameses.” +</p> + +<p> +“They do not delight my heart who want no naked women prancing here. Try +again, Pambasa.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can think of nothing else, Prince. Yet, stay. There is a scribe +without named Ana, a thin, sharp-nosed man who says he is your Highness’s +twin in Ra.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ana!” said the Prince. “He of Memphis who writes stories? +Why did you not say so before, you old fool? Let him enter at once, at +once.” +</p> + +<p> +Now hearing this I, Ana, walked through the curtains and prostrated myself, +saying, +</p> + +<p> +“I am that scribe, O Royal Son of the Sun.” +</p> + +<p> +“How dare you enter the Prince’s presence without being +bidden——” began Pambasa, but Seti broke in with a stern +voice, saying, +</p> + +<p> +“And how dare you, Pambasa, keep this learned man waiting at my door like +a dog? Rise, Ana, and cease from giving me titles, for we are not at Court. +Tell me, how long have you been in Tanis?” +</p> + +<p> +“Many days, O Prince,” I answered, “seeking your presence and +in vain.” +</p> + +<p> +“And how did you win it at last?” +</p> + +<p> +“By payment, O Prince,” I answered innocently, “as it seems +is usual. The doorkeepers——” +</p> + +<p> +“I understand,” said Seti, “the doorkeepers! Pambasa, you +will ascertain what amount this learned scribe has disbursed to ‘the +doorkeepers’ and refund him double. Begone now and see to the +matter.” +</p> + +<p> +So Pambasa went, casting a piteous look at me out of the corner of his eye. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me,” said Seti when he was gone, “you who must be wise +in your fashion, why does a Court always breed thieves?” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose for the same reason, O Prince, that a dog’s back breeds +fleas. Fleas must live, and there is the dog.” +</p> + +<p> +“True,” he answered, “and these palace fleas are not paid +enough. If ever I have power I will see to it. They shall be fewer but better +fed. Now, Ana, be seated. I know you though you do not know me, and already I +have learned to love you through your writings. Tell me of yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +So I told him all my simple tale, to which he listened without a word, and then +asked me why I had come to see him. I replied that it was because he had sent +for me, which he had forgotten; also because I brought him a story that I had +dared to dedicate to him. Then I laid the roll before him on the table. +</p> + +<p> +“I am honoured,” he said in a pleased voice, “I am greatly +honoured. If I like it well, your story shall go to the tomb with me for my Ka +to read and re-read until the day of resurrection, though first I will study it +in the flesh. Do you know this city of Tanis, Ana?” +</p> + +<p> +I answered that I knew little of it, who had spent my time here haunting the +doors of his Highness. +</p> + +<p> +“Then with your leave I will be your guide through it this night, and +afterwards we will sup and talk.” +</p> + +<p> +I bowed and he clapped his hands, whereon a servant appeared, not Pambasa, but +another. +</p> + +<p> +“Bring two cloaks,” said the Prince, “I go abroad with the +scribe, Ana. Let a guard of four Nubians, no more, follow us, but at a distance +and disguised. Let them wait at the private entrance.” +</p> + +<p> +The man bowed and departed swiftly. +</p> + +<p> +Almost immediately a black slave appeared with two long hooded cloaks, such as +camel-drivers wear, which he helped us to put on. Then, taking a lamp, he led +us from the room through a doorway opposite to that by which I had entered, +down passages and a narrow stair that ended in a courtyard. Crossing this we +came to a wall, great and thick, in which were double doors sheathed with +copper that opened mysteriously at our approach. Outside of these doors stood +four tall men, also wrapped in cloaks, who seemed to take no note of us. Still, +looking back when we had gone a little way, I observed that they were following +us, as though by chance. +</p> + +<p> +How fine a thing, thought I to myself, it is to be a Prince who by lifting a +finger can thus command service at any moment of the day or night. +</p> + +<p> +Just at that moment Seti said to me: +</p> + +<p> +“See, Ana, how sad a thing it is to be a Prince, who cannot even stir +abroad without notice to his household and commanding the service of a secret +guard to spy upon his every action, and doubtless to make report thereof to the +police of Pharaoh.” +</p> + +<p> +There are two faces to everything, thought I to myself again. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap02"></a>CHAPTER II.<br /> +THE BREAKING OF THE CUP</h2> + +<p> +We walked down a broad street bordered by trees, beyond which were lime-washed, +flat-roofed houses built of sun-dried brick, standing, each of them, in its own +garden, till at length we came to the great market-place just as the full moon +rose above the palm-trees, making the world almost as light as day. Tanis, or +Rameses as it is also called, was a very fine city then, if only half the size +of Memphis, though now that the Court has left it I hear it is much deserted. +About this market-place stood great temples of the gods, with pylons and +avenues of sphinxes, also that wonder of the world, the colossal statue of the +second Rameses, while to the north upon a mound was the glorious palace of +Pharaoh. Other palaces there were also, inhabited by the nobles and officers of +the Court, and between them ran long streets where dwelt the citizens, ending, +some of them, on that branch of the Nile by which the ancient city stood. +</p> + +<p> +Seti halted to gaze at these wondrous buildings. +</p> + +<p> +“They are very old,” he said, “but most of them, like the +walls and those temples of Amon and Ptah, have been rebuilt in the time of my +grandfather or since his day by the labour of Israelitish slaves who dwell +yonder in the rich land of Goshen.” +</p> + +<p> +“They must have cost much gold,” I answered. +</p> + +<p> +“The Kings of Egypt do not pay their slaves,” remarked the Prince +shortly. +</p> + +<p> +Then we went on and mingled with the thousands of the people who were wandering +to and fro seeking rest after the business of the day. Here on the frontier of +Egypt were gathered folk of every race; Bedouins from the desert, Syrians from +beyond the Red Sea, merchants from the rich Isle of Chittim, travellers from +the coast, and traders from the land of Punt and from the unknown countries of +the north. All were talking, laughing and making merry, save some who gathered +in circles to listen to a teller of tales or wandering musicians, or to watch +women who danced half naked for gifts. +</p> + +<p> +Now and again the crowd would part to let pass the chariot of some noble or +lady before which went running footmen who shouted, “Make way, Make +way!” and laid about them with their long wands. Then came a procession +of white-robed priests of Isis travelling by moonlight as was fitting for the +servants of the Lady of the Moon, and bearing aloft the holy image of the +goddess before which all men bowed and for a little while were silent. After +this followed the corpse of some great one newly dead, preceded by a troop of +hired mourners who rent the air with their lamentations as they conducted it to +the quarter of the embalmers. Lastly, from out of one of the side streets +emerged a gang of several hundred hook-nosed and bearded men, among whom were a +few women, loosely roped together and escorted by a company of armed guards. +</p> + +<p> +“Who are these?” I asked, for I had never seen their like. +</p> + +<p> +“Slaves of the people of Israel who return from their labour at the +digging of the new canal which is to run to the Red Sea,” answered the +Prince. +</p> + +<p> +We stood still to watch them go by, and I noted how proudly their eyes flashed +and how fierce was their bearing although they were but men in bonds, very +weary too and stained by toil in mud and water. Presently this happened. A +white-bearded man lagged behind, dragging on the line and checking the march. +Thereupon an overseer ran up and flogged him with a cruel whip cut from the +hide of the sea-horse. The man turned and, lifting a wooden spade that he +carried, struck the overseer such a blow that he cracked his skull so that he +fell down dead. Other overseers rushed at the Hebrew, as these Israelites were +called, and beat him till he also fell. Then a soldier appeared and, seeing +what had happened, drew his bronze sword. From among the throng sprang out a +girl, young and very lovely although she was but roughly clad. +</p> + +<p> +Since then I have seen Merapi, Moon of Israel, as she was called, clad in the +proud raiment of a queen, and once even of a goddess, but never, I think, did +she look more beauteous than in this hour of her slavery. Her large eyes, +neither blue nor black, caught the light of the moon and were aswim with tears. +Her plenteous bronze-hued hair flowed in great curls over the snow-white bosom +that her rough robe revealed. Her delicate hands were lifted as though to ward +off the blows which fell upon him whom she sought to protect. Her tall and +slender shape stood out against a flare of light which burned upon some market +stall. She was beauteous exceedingly, so beauteous that my heart stood still at +the sight of her, yes, mine that for some years had held no thought of woman +save such as were black and evil. +</p> + +<p> +She cried aloud. Standing over the fallen man she appealed to the soldier for +mercy. Then, seeing that there was none to hope for from him, she cast her +great eyes around until they fell upon the Prince Seti. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! Sir,” she wailed, “you have a noble air. Will you stand +by and see my father murdered for no fault?” +</p> + +<p> +“Drag her off, or I smite through her,” shouted the captain, for +now she had thrown herself down upon the fallen Israelite. The overseers +obeyed, tearing her away. +</p> + +<p> +“Hold, butcher!” cried the Prince. +</p> + +<p> +“Who are you, dog, that dare to teach Pharaoh’s officer his +duty?” answered the captain, smiting the Prince in the face with his left +hand. +</p> + +<p> +Then swiftly he struck downwards and I saw the bronze sword pass through the +body of the Israelite who quivered and lay still. It was all done in an +instant, and on the silence that followed rang out the sound of a woman’s +wail. For a moment Seti choked—with rage, I think. Then he spoke a single +word—“Guards!” +</p> + +<p> +The four Nubians, who, as ordered, had kept at a distance, burst through the +gathered throng. Ere they reached us I, who till now had stood amazed, sprang +at the captain and gripped him by the throat. He struck at me with his bloody +sword, but the blow, falling on my long cloak, only bruised me on the left +thigh. Then I, who was strong in those days, grappled with him and we rolled +together on the ground. +</p> + +<p> +After this there was great tumult. The Hebrew slaves burst their rope and flung +themselves upon the soldiers like dogs upon a jackal, battering them with their +bare fists. The soldiers defended themselves with swords; the overseers plied +their hide whips; women screamed, men shouted. The captain whom I had seized +began to get the better of me; at least I saw his sword flash above me and +thought that all was over. Doubtless it would have been, had not Seti himself +dragged the man backwards and thus given the four Nubian guards time to seize +him. Next I heard the Prince cry out in a ringing voice: +</p> + +<p> +“Hold! It is Seti, the son of Pharaoh, the Governor of Tanis, with whom +you have to do. See,” and he threw back the hood of his cloak so that the +moon shone upon his face. +</p> + +<p> +Instantly there was a great quiet. Now, first one and then another as the truth +sunk into them, men began to fall upon their knees, and I heard one say in an +awed voice: +</p> + +<p> +“The royal Son, the Prince of Egypt struck in the face by a soldier! +Blood must pay for it.” +</p> + +<p> +“How is that officer named?” asked Seti, pointing to the man who +had killed the Israelite and well-nigh killed me. +</p> + +<p> +Someone answered that he was named Khuaka. +</p> + +<p> +“Bring him to the steps of the temple of Amon,” said Seti to the +Nubians who held him fast. “Follow me, friend Ana, if you have the +strength. Nay, lean upon my shoulder.” +</p> + +<p> +So resting upon the shoulder of the Prince, for I was bruised and breathless, I +walked with him a hundred paces or more to the steps of the great temple where +we climbed to the platform at the head of the stairs. After us came the +prisoner, and after him all the multitude, a very great number who stood upon +the steps and on the flat ground beyond. The Prince, who was very white and +quiet, sat himself down upon the low granite base of a tall obelisk which stood +in front of the temple pylon, and said: +</p> + +<p> +“As Governor of Tanis, the City of Rameses, with power of life and death +at all hours and in all places, I declare my Court open.” +</p> + +<p> +“The Royal Court is open!” cried the multitude in the accustomed +form. +</p> + +<p> +“This is the case,” said the Prince. “Yonder man who is named +Khuaka, by his dress a captain of Pharaoh’s army, is charged with the +murder of a certain Hebrew, and with the attempted murder of Ana the scribe. +Let witnesses be called. Bring the body of the dead man and lay it here before +me. Bring the woman who strove to protect him, that she may speak.” +</p> + +<p> +The body was brought and laid upon the platform, its wide eyes staring up at +the moon. Then soldiers who had gathered thrust forward the weeping girl. +</p> + +<p> +“Cease from tears,” said Seti, “and swear by Kephera the +creator, and by Maat the goddess of truth and law, to speak nothing but the +truth.” +</p> + +<p> +The girl looked up and said in a rich low voice that in some way reminded me of +honey being poured from a jar, perhaps because it was thick with strangled sobs: +</p> + +<p> +“O Royal Son of Egypt, I cannot swear by those gods who am a daughter of +Israel.” +</p> + +<p> +The Prince looked at her attentively and asked: +</p> + +<p> +“By what god then can you swear, O Daughter of Israel?” +</p> + +<p> +“By Jahveh, O Prince, whom we hold to be the one and only God, the Maker +of the world and all that is therein.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then perhaps his other name is Kephera,” said the Prince with a +little smile. “But have it as you will. Swear, then, by your god +Jahveh.” +</p> + +<p> +Then she lifted both her hands above her head and said: +</p> + +<p> +“I, Merapi, daughter of Nathan of the tribe of Levi of the people of +Israel, swear that I will speak the truth and all the truth in the name of +Jahveh, the God of Israel.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell us what you know of the matter of the death of this man, O +Merapi.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing that you do not know yourself, O Prince. He who lies +there,” and she swept her hand towards the corpse, turning her eyes away, +“was my father, an elder of Israel. The captain Khuaka came when the corn +was young to the Land of Goshen to choose those who should work for Pharaoh. He +wished to take me into his house. My father refused because from my childhood I +had been affianced to a man of Israel; also because it is not lawful under the +law for our people to intermarry with your people. Then the captain Khuaka +seized my father, although he was of high rank and beyond the age to work for +Pharaoh, and he was taken away, as I think, because he would not suffer me to +wed Khuaka. A while later I dreamed that my father was sick. Thrice I dreamed +it and ran away to Tanis to visit him. But this morning I found him and, O +Prince, you know the rest.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is there no more?” asked Seti. +</p> + +<p> +The girl hesitated, then answered: +</p> + +<p> +“Only this, O Prince. This man saw me with my father giving him food, for +he was weak and overcome with the toil of digging the mud in the heat of the +sun, he who being a noble of our people knew nothing of such labour from his +youth. In my presence Khuaka asked my father if now he would give me to him. My +father answered that sooner would he see me kissed by snakes and devoured by +crocodiles. ‘I hear you,’ answered Khuaka. ‘Learn, now, slave +Nathan, before to-morrow’s sun arises, you shall be kissed by swords and +devoured by crocodiles or jackals.’ ‘So be it,’ said my +father, ‘but learn, O Khuaka, that if so, it is revealed to me who am a +priest and a prophet of Jahveh, that before to-morrow’s sun you also +shall be kissed by swords and of the rest we will talk at the foot of +Jahveh’s throne.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Afterwards, as you know, Prince, the overseer flogged my father as I +heard Khuaka order him to do if he lagged through weariness, and then Khuaka +killed him because my father in his madness struck the overseer with a mattock. +I have no more to say, save that I pray that I may be sent back to my own +people there to mourn my father according to our custom.” +</p> + +<p> +“To whom would you be sent? Your mother?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, O Prince, my mother, a lady of Syria, is dead. I will go to my +uncle, Jabez the Levite.” +</p> + +<p> +“Stand aside,” said Seti. “The matter shall be seen to later. +Appear, O Ana the Scribe. Swear the oath and tell us what you have seen of this +man’s death, since two witnesses are needful.” +</p> + +<p> +So I swore and repeated all this story that I have written down. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Khuaka,” said the Prince when I had finished, “have you +aught to say?” +</p> + +<p> +“Only this, O Royal One,” answered the captain throwing himself +upon his knees, “that I struck you by accident, not knowing that the +person of your Highness was hidden in that long cloak. For this deed it is true +that I am worthy of death, but I pray you to pardon me because I knew not what +I did. The rest is nothing, since I only slew a mutinous slave of the +Israelites, as such are slain every day.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me, O Khuaka, who are being tried for this man’s death and +not for the striking of one of royal blood by chance, under which law it is +lawful for you to kill an Israelite without trial before the appointed officers +of Pharaoh.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not learned. I do not know the law, O Prince. All that this woman +said is false.” +</p> + +<p> +“At least it is not false that yonder man lies dead and that you slew +him, as you yourself admit. Learn now, and let all Egypt learn, that even an +Israelite may not be murdered for no offence save that of weariness and of +paying back unearned blow with blow. Your blood shall answer for his blood. +Soldiers! Strike off his head.” +</p> + +<p> +The Nubians leapt upon him, and when I looked again Khuaka’s headless +corpse lay by the corpse of the Hebrew Nathan and their blood was mingled upon +the steps of the temple. +</p> + +<p> +“The business of the Court is finished,” said the Prince. +“Officers, see that this woman is escorted to her own people, and with +her the body of her father for burial. See, too, upon your lives that no insult +or harm is done to her. Scribe Ana, accompany me hence to my house where I +would speak with you. Let guards precede and follow me.” +</p> + +<p> +He rose and all the people bowed. As he turned to go the lady Merapi stepped +forward, and falling upon her knees, said: +</p> + +<p> +“O most just Prince, now and ever I am your servant.” +</p> + +<p> +Then we set out, and as we left the market-place on our way to the palace of +the Prince, I heard a tumult of voices behind us, some in praise and some in +blame of what had been done. We walked on in silence broken only by the +measured tramp of the guards. Presently the moon passed behind a cloud and the +world was dark. Then from the edge of the cloud sprang out a ray of light that +lay straight and narrow above us on the heavens. Seti studied it a while and +said: +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me, O Ana, of what does that moonbeam put you in mind?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of a sword, O Prince,” I answered, “stretched out over Egypt +and held in the black hand of some mighty god or spirit. See, there is the +blade from which fall little clouds like drops of blood, there is the hilt of +gold, and look! there beneath is the face of the god. Fire streams from his +eyebrows and his brow is black and awful. I am afraid, though what I fear I +know not.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have a poet’s mind, Ana. Still, what you see I see and of this +I am sure, that some sword of vengeance is indeed stretched out over Egypt +because of its evil doings, whereof this light may be the symbol. Behold! it +seems to fall upon the temples of the gods and the palace of Pharaoh, and to +cleave them. Now it is gone and the night is as nights were from the beginning +of the world. Come to my chamber and let us eat. I am weary, I need food and +wine, as you must after struggling with that lustful murderer whom I have sent +to his own place.” +</p> + +<p> +The guards saluted and were dismissed. We mounted to the Prince’s private +chambers, in one of which his servants clad me in fine linen robes after a +skilled physician of the household had doctored the bruises upon my thigh over +which he tied a bandage spread with balm. Then I was led to a small +dining-hall, where I found the Prince waiting for me as though I were some +honoured guest and not a poor scribe who had wandered hence from Memphis with +my wares. He caused me to sit down at his right hand and even drew up the chair +for me himself, whereat I felt abashed. To this day I remember that +leather-seated chair. The arms of it ended in ivory sphinxes and on its back of +black wood in an oval was inlaid the name of the great Rameses, to whom indeed +it had once belonged. Dishes were handed to us—only two of them and those +quite simple, for Seti was no great eater—by a young Nubian slave of a +very merry face, and with them wine more delicious than any I had ever tasted. +</p> + +<p> +We ate and drank and the Prince talked to me of my business as a scribe and of +the making of tales, which seemed to interest him very much. Indeed one might +have thought that he was a pupil in the schools and I the teacher, so humbly +and with such care did he weigh everything that I said about my art. Of matters +of state or of the dreadful scene of blood through which we had just passed he +spoke no word. At the end, however, after a little pause during which he held +up a cup of alabaster as thin as an eggshell, studying the light playing +through it on the rich red wine within, he said to me: +</p> + +<p> +“Friend Ana, we have passed a stirring hour together, the first perhaps +of many, or mayhap the last. Also we were born upon the same day and therefore, +unless the astrologers lie, as do other men—and women—beneath the +same star. Lastly, if I may say it, I like you well, though I know not how you +like me, and when you are in the room with me I feel at ease, which is strange, +for I know of no other with whom it is so. +</p> + +<p> +“Now by a chance only this morning I found in some old records which I +was studying, that the heir to the throne of Egypt a thousand years ago, had, +and therefore, as nothing ever changes in Egypt, still has, a right to a +private librarian for which the State, that is, the toilers of the land, must +pay as in the end they pay for all. Some dynasties have gone by, it seems, +since there was such a librarian, I think because most of the heirs to the +throne could not, or did not, read. Also by chance I mentioned the matter to +the Vizier Nehesi who grudges me every ounce of gold I spend, as though it were +one taken out of his own pouch, which perhaps it is. He answered with that +crooked smile of his: +</p> + +<p> +“‘Since I know well, Prince, that there is no scribe in Egypt whom +you would suffer about you for a single month, I will set the cost of a +librarian at the figure at which it stood in the Eleventh Dynasty upon the roll +of your Highness’s household and defray it from the Royal Treasury until +he is discharged.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Therefore, Scribe Ana, I offer you this post for one month; that is all +for which I can promise you will be paid whatever it may be, for I forget the +sum.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thank you, O Prince,” I exclaimed. +</p> + +<p> +“Do not thank me. Indeed if you are wise you will refuse. You have met +Pambasa. Well, Nehesi is Pambasa multiplied by ten, a rogue, a thief, a bully, +and one who has Pharaoh’s ear. He will make your life a torment to you +and clip every ring of gold that at length you wring out of his grip. Moreover +the place is wearisome, and I am fanciful and often ill-humoured. Do not thank +me, I say. Refuse; return to Memphis and write stories. Shun courts and their +plottings. Pharaoh himself is but a face and a puppet through which other +voices talk and other eyes shine, and the sceptre which he wields is pulled by +strings. And if this is so with Pharaoh, what is the case with his son? Then +there are the women, Ana. They will make love to you, Ana, they even do so to +me, and I think you told me that you know something of women. Do not accept, go +back to Memphis. I will send you some old manuscripts to copy and pay you +whatever it is Nehesi allows for the librarian.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yet I accept, O Prince. As for Nehesi I fear him not at all, since at +the worst I can write a story about him at which the world will laugh, and +rather than that he will pay me my salary.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have more wisdom than I thought, Ana. It never came into my mind to +put Nehesi in a story, though it is true I tell tales about him which is much +the same thing.” +</p> + +<p> +He bent forward, leaning his head upon his hand, and ceasing from his bantering +tone, looked me in the eyes and asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you accept? Let me think now. It is not because you care for +wealth if that is to be won here; nor for the pomp and show of courts; nor for +the company of the great who really are so small. For all these things you, +Ana, have no craving if I read your heart aright, you who are an artist, +nothing less and nothing more. Tell me, then, why will you, a free man who can +earn your living, linger round a throne and set your neck beneath the heel of +princes to be crushed into the common mould of servitors and King’s +Companions and Bearers of the Footstool?” +</p> + +<p> +“I will tell you, Prince. First, because thrones make history, as history +makes thrones, and I think that great events are on foot in Egypt in which I +would have my share. Secondly, because the gods bring gifts to men only once or +twice in their lives and to refuse them is to offend the gods who gave them +those lives to use to ends of which we know nothing. And +thirdly”—here I hesitated. +</p> + +<p> +“And thirdly—out with the thirdly for, doubtless, it is the real +reason.” +</p> + +<p> +“And thirdly, O Prince—well, the word sounds strangely upon a +man’s lips—but thirdly because I love you. From the moment that my +eyes fell upon your face I loved you as I never loved any other man—not +even my father. I know not why. Certainly it is not because you are a +prince.” +</p> + +<p> +When he heard these words Seti sat brooding and so silent that, fearing lest I, +a humble scribe, had been too bold, I added hastily: +</p> + +<p> +“Let your Highness pardon his servant for his presumptuous words. It was +his servant’s heart that spoke and not his lips.” +</p> + +<p> +He lifted his hand and I stopped. +</p> + +<p> +“Ana, my twin in Ra,” he said, “do you know that I never had +a friend?” +</p> + +<p> +“A prince who has no friend!” +</p> + +<p> +“Never, none. Now I begin to think that I have found one. The thought is +strange and warms me. Do you know also that when my eyes fell upon your face I +loved you also, the gods know why. It was as though I had found one who was +dear to me thousands of years ago but whom I had lost and forgotten. Perhaps +this is but foolishness, or perhaps here we have the shadow of something great +and beautiful which dwells elsewhere, in the place we call the Kingdom of +Osiris, beyond the grave, Ana.” +</p> + +<p> +“Such thoughts have come to me at times, Prince. I mean that all we see +is shadow; that we ourselves are shadows and that the realities who cast them +live in a different home which is lit by some spirit sun that never sets.” +</p> + +<p> +The Prince nodded his head and again was silent for a while. Then he took his +beautiful alabaster cup, and pouring wine into it, he drank a little and passed +the cup to me. +</p> + +<p> +“Drink also, Ana,” he said, “and pledge me as I pledge you, +in token that by decree of the Creator who made the hearts of men, henceforward +our two hearts are as the same heart through good and ill, through triumph and +defeat, till death takes one of us. Henceforward, Ana, unless you show yourself +unworthy, I hide no thought from you.” +</p> + +<p> +Flushing with joy I took the cup, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“I add to your words, O Prince. We are one, not for this life alone but +for all the lives to be. Death, O Prince, is, I think, but a single step in the +pylon stair which leads at last to that dizzy height whence we see the face of +God and hear his voice tell us what and why we are.” +</p> + +<p> +Then I pledged him, and drank, bowing, and he bowed back to me. +</p> + +<p> +“What shall we do with the cup, Ana, the sacred cup that has held this +rich heart-wine? Shall I keep it? No, it no longer belongs to me. Shall I give +it to you? No, it can never be yours alone. See, we will break the priceless +thing.” +</p> + +<p> +Seizing it by its stem with all his strength he struck the cup upon the table. +Then what seemed to me to be a marvel happened, for instead of shattering as I +thought it surely would, it split in two from rim to foot. Whether this was by +chance, or whether the artist who fashioned it in some bygone generation had +worked the two halves separately and cunningly cemented them together, to this +hour I do not know. At least so it befell. +</p> + +<p> +“This is fortunate, Ana,” said the Prince, laughing a little in his +light way. “Now take you the half that lies nearest to you and I will +take mine. If you die first I will lay my half upon your breast, and if I die +first you shall do the same by me, or if the priests forbid it because I am +royal and may not be profaned, cast the thing into my tomb. What should we have +done had the alabaster shattered into fragments, Ana, and what omen should we +have read in them?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why ask, O Prince, seeing that it has befallen otherwise?” +</p> + +<p> +Then I took my half, laid it against my forehead and hid it in the bosom of my +robe, and as I did, so did Seti. +</p> + +<p> +So in this strange fashion the royal Seti and I sealed the holy compact of our +brotherhood, as I think not for the first time or the last. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap03"></a>CHAPTER III.<br /> +USERTI</h2> + +<p> +Seti rose, stretching out his arms. +</p> + +<p> +“That is finished,” he said, “as everything finishes, and for +once I am sorry. Now what next? Sleep, I suppose, in which all ends, or perhaps +you would say all begins.” +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke the curtains at the end of the room were drawn and between them +appeared the chamberlain, Pambasa, holding his gold-tipped wand ceremoniously +before him. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it now, man?” asked Seti. “Can I not even sup in +peace? Stay, before you answer tell me, do things end or begin in sleep? The +learned Ana and I differ on the matter and would hear your wisdom. Bear in +mind, Pambasa, that before we are born we must have slept, since of that time +we remember nothing, and after we are dead we certainly seem to sleep, as any +who have looked on mummies know. Now answer.” +</p> + +<p> +The chamberlain stared at the wine flask on the table as though he suspected +his master of having drunk too much. Then in a hard official voice he said: +</p> + +<p> +“She comes! She comes! She comes, offering greetings and adoration to the +Royal Son of Ra.” +</p> + +<p> +“Does she indeed?” asked Seti. “If so, why say it three +times? And who comes?” +</p> + +<p> +“The high Princess, the heiress of Egypt, the daughter of Pharaoh, your +Highness’s royal half-sister, the great lady Userti.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let her enter then. Ana, stand you behind me. If you grow weary and I +give leave you can depart; the slaves will show you your sleeping-place.” +</p> + +<p> +Pambasa went, and presently through the curtain appeared a royal-looking lady +splendidly apparelled. She was accompanied by four waiting women who fell back +on the threshold and were no more seen. The Prince stepped forward, took both +her hands in his and kissed her on the brow, then drew back again, after which +they stood a moment looking at each other. While they remained thus I studied +her who was known throughout the land as the “Beautiful Royal +Daughter,” but whom till now I had never seen. In truth I did not think +her beautiful, although even had she been clad in a peasant’s robe I +should have been sure that she was royal. Her face was too hard for beauty and +her black eyes, with a tinge of grey in them, were too small. Also her nose was +too sharp and her lips were too thin. Indeed, had it not been for the +delicately and finely-shaped woman’s form beneath, I might have thought +that a prince and not a princess stood before me. For the rest in most ways she +resembled her half-brother Seti, though her countenance lacked the kindliness +of his; or rather both of them resembled their father, Meneptah. +</p> + +<p> +“Greeting, Sister,” he said, eyeing her with a smile in which I +caught a gleam of mockery. “Purple-bordered robes, emerald necklace and +enamelled crown of gold, rings and pectoral, everything except a +sceptre—why are you so royally arrayed to visit one so humble as your +loving brother? You come like sunlight into the darkness of the hermit’s +cell and dazzle the poor hermit, or rather hermits,” and he pointed to me. +</p> + +<p> +“Cease your jests, Seti,” she replied in a full, strong voice. +“I wear these ornaments because they please me. Also I have supped with +our father, and those who sit at Pharaoh’s table must be suitably +arrayed, though I have noted that sometimes you think otherwise.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed. I trust that the good god, our divine parent, is well to-night +as you leave him so early.” +</p> + +<p> +“I leave him because he sent me with a message to you.” She paused, +looking at me sharply, then asked, “Who is that man? I do not know +him.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is your misfortune, Userti, but one which can be mended. He is named +Ana the Scribe, who writes strange stories of great interest which you would do +well to read who dwell too much upon the outside of life. He is from Memphis +and his father’s name was—I forget what. Ana, what was your +father’s name?” +</p> + +<p> +“One too humble for royal ears, Prince,” I answered, “but my +grandfather was Pentaur the poet who wrote of the deeds of the mighty +Rameses.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it so? Why did you not tell me that before? The descent should earn +you a pension from the Court if you can extract it from Nehesi. Well, Userti, +his grandfather’s name was Pentaur whose immortal verses you have +doubtless read upon temple walls, where our grandfather was careful to publish +them.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have—to my sorrow—and thought them poor, boastful +stuff,” she answered coldly. +</p> + +<p> +“To be honest, if Ana will forgive me, so do I. I can assure you that his +stories are a great improvement on them. Friend Ana, this is my sister, Userti, +my father’s daughter though our mothers were not the same.” +</p> + +<p> +“I pray you, Seti, to be so good as to give me my rightful titles in +speaking of me to scribes and other of your servants.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your pardon, Userti. This, Ana, is the first Lady of Egypt, the Royal +Heiress, the Princess of the Two Lands, the High-priestess of Amon, the +Cherished of the Gods, the half-sister of the Heir-apparent, the Daughter of +Hathor, the Lotus Bloom of Love, the Queen to be of—Userti, whose queen +will you be? Have you made up your mind? For myself I know no one worthy of so +much beauty, excellence, learning and—what shall I add—sweetness, +yes, sweetness.” +</p> + +<p> +“Seti,” she said stamping her foot, “if it pleases you to +make a mock of me before a stranger, I suppose that I must submit. Send him +away, I would speak with you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Make a mock of you! Oh! mine is a hard fate. When truth gushes from the +well of my heart, I am told I mock, and when I mock, all say—he speaks +truth. Be seated, Sister, and talk on freely. This Ana is my sworn friend who +saved my life but now, for which deed perhaps he should be my enemy. His memory +is excellent also and he will remember what you say and write it down +afterwards, whereas I might forget. Therefore, with your leave, I will ask him +to stay here.” +</p> + +<p> +“My Prince,” I broke in, “I pray you suffer me to go.” +</p> + +<p> +“My Secretary,” he answered with a note of command in his voice, +“I pray you to remain where you are.” +</p> + +<p> +So I sat myself on the ground after the fashion of a scribe, having no choice, +and the Princess sat herself on a couch at the end of the table, but Seti +remained standing. Then the Princess said: +</p> + +<p> +“Since it is your will, Brother, that I should talk secrets into other +ears than yours, I obey you. Still”—here she looked at me +wrathfully—“let the tongue be careful that it does not repeat what +the ears have heard, lest there should be neither ears nor tongue. My Brother, +it has been reported to Pharaoh, while we ate together, that there is tumult in +this town. It has been reported to him that because of a trouble about some +base Israelite you caused one of his officers to be beheaded, after which there +came a riot which still rages.” +</p> + +<p> +“Strange that truth should have come to the ears of Pharaoh so quickly. +Now, my Sister, if he had heard it three moons hence I could have believed +you—almost.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you did behead the officer?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I beheaded him about two hours ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pharaoh will demand an account of the matter.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pharaoh,” answered Seti lifting his eyes, “has no power to +question the justice of the Governor of Tanis in the north.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are in error, Seti. Pharaoh has all power.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, Sister, Pharaoh is but one man among millions of other men, and +though he speaks it is their spirit which bends his tongue, while above that +spirit is a yet greater spirit who decrees what they shall think to ends of +which we know nothing.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not understand, Seti.” +</p> + +<p> +“I never thought you would, Userti, but when you have leisure, ask Ana +here to explain the matter to you. I am sure that <i>he</i> understands.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! I have borne enough,” exclaimed Userti rising. “Hearken +to the command of Pharaoh, Prince Seti. It is that you wait upon him to-morrow +in full council, at an hour before noon, there to talk with him of this +question of the Israelitish slaves and the officer whom it has pleased you to +kill. I came to speak other words to you also, but as they were for your +private ear, these can bide a more fitting opportunity. Farewell, my +Brother.” +</p> + +<p> +“What, are you going so soon, Sister? I wished to tell you the story +about those Israelites, and especially of the maid whose name is—what was +her name, Ana?” +</p> + +<p> +“Merapi, Moon of Israel, Prince,” I added with a groan. +</p> + +<p> +“About the maid called Merapi, Moon of Israel, I think the sweetest that +ever I have looked upon, whose father the dead captain murdered in my +sight.” +</p> + +<p> +“So there is a woman in the business? Well, I guessed it.” +</p> + +<p> +“In what business is there not a woman, Userti, even in that of a message +from Pharaoh. Pambasa, Pambasa, escort the Princess and summon her servants, +women everyone of them, unless my senses mock me. Good-night to you, O Sister +and Lady of the Two Lands, and forgive me—that coronet of yours is +somewhat awry.” +</p> + +<p> +At last she was gone and I rose, wiping my brow with a corner of my robe, and +looking at the Prince who stood before the fire laughing softly. +</p> + +<p> +“Make a note of all this talk, Ana,” he said; “there is more +in it than meets the ear.” +</p> + +<p> +“I need no note, Prince,” I answered; “every word is burnt +upon my mind as a hot iron burns a tablet of wood. With reason too, since now +her Highness will hate me for all her life.” +</p> + +<p> +“Much better so, Ana, than that she should pretend to love you, which she +never would have done while you are my friend. Women oftimes respect those whom +they hate and even will advance them because of policy, but let those whom they +pretend to love beware. The time may come when you will yet be Userti’s +most trusted councillor.” +</p> + +<p> +Now here I, Ana the Scribe, will state that in after days, when this same queen +was the wife of Pharaoh Saptah, I did, as it chanced, become her most trusted +councillor. Moreover, in those times, yes, and even in the hour of her death, +she swore from the moment her eyes first fell on me she had known me to be +true-hearted and held me in esteem as no self-seeker. More, I think she +believed what she said, having forgotten that once she looked upon me as her +enemy. This indeed I never was, who always held her in high regard and honour +as a great lady who loved her country, though one who sometimes was not wise. +But as I could not foresee these things on that night of long ago, I only +stared at the Prince and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! why did you not allow me to depart as your Highness said I might at +the beginning? Soon or late my head will pay the price of this night’s +work.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then she must take mine with it. Listen, Ana. I kept you here, not to +vex the Princess or you, but for a good reason. You know that it is the custom +of the royal dynasties of Egypt for kings, or those who will be kings, to wed +their near kin in order that the blood may remain the purer.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Prince, and not only among those who are royal. Still, I think it +an evil custom.” +</p> + +<p> +“As I do, since the race wherein it is practised grows ever weaker in +body and in mind; which is why, perhaps, my father is not what his father was +and I am not what my father is.” +</p> + +<p> +“Also, Prince, it is hard to mingle the love of the sister and of the +wife.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very hard, Ana; so hard that when it is attempted both are apt to +vanish. Well, our mothers having been true royal wives, though hers died before +mine was wedded by my father, Pharaoh desires that I should marry my +half-sister, Userti, and what is worse, she desires it also. Moreover, the +people, who fear trouble ahead in Egypt if we, who alone are left of the true +royal race born of queens, remain apart and she takes another lord, or I take +another wife, demand that it should be brought about, since they believe that +whoever calls Userti the Strong his spouse will one day rule the land.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why does the Princess wish it—that she may be a queen?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Ana, though were she to wed my cousin, Amenmeses, the son of +Pharaoh’s elder brother Khaemuas, she might still be a queen, if I chose +to stand aside as I would not be loth to do.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would Egypt suffer this, Prince?” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know, nor does it matter since she hates Amenmeses, who is +strong-willed and ambitious, and will have none of him. Also he is already +married.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is there no other royal one whom she might take, Prince?” +</p> + +<p> +“None. Moreover she wishes me alone.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Prince?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because of ancient custom which she worships. Also because she knows me +well and in her fashion is fond of me, whom she believes to be a gentle-minded +dreamer that she can rule. Lastly, because I am the lawful heir to the Crown +and without me to share it, she thinks that she would never be safe upon the +Throne, especially if I should marry some other woman, of whom she would be +jealous. It is the Throne she desires and would wed, not the Prince Seti, her +half-brother, whom she takes with it to be in name her husband, as Pharaoh +commands that she should do. Love plays no part in Userti’s breast, Ana, +which makes her the more dangerous, since what she seeks with a cold heart of +policy, that she will surely find.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then it would seem, Prince, that the cage is built about you. After all +it is a very splendid cage and made of gold.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Ana, yet not one in which I would live. Still, except by death how +can I escape from the threefold chain of the will of Pharaoh, of Egypt, and of +Userti? Oh!” he went on in a new voice, one that had in it both sorrow +and passion, “this is a matter in which I would have chosen for myself +who in all others must be a servant. And I may not choose!” +</p> + +<p> +“Is there perchance some other lady, Prince?” +</p> + +<p> +“None! By Hathor, none—at least I think not. Yet I would have been +free to search for such a one and take her when I found her, if she were but a +fishergirl.” +</p> + +<p> +“The Kings of Egypt can have large households, Prince.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know it. Are there not still scores whom I should call aunt and uncle? +I think that my grandsire, Rameses, blessed Egypt with quite three hundred +children, and in so doing in a way was wise, since thus he might be sure that, +while the world endures, in it will flow some of the blood that once was +his.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yet in life or death how will that help him, Prince? Some must beget the +multitudes of the earth, what does it matter who these may have been?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing at all, Ana, since by good or evil fortune they are born. +Therefore, why talk of large households? Though, like any man who can pay for +it, Pharaoh may have a large household, I seek a queen who shall reign in my +heart as well as on my throne, not a ‘large household,’ Ana. Oh! I +am weary. Pambasa, come hither and conduct my secretary, Ana, to the empty room +that is next to my own, the painted chamber which looks toward the north, and +bid my slaves attend to all his wants as they would to mine.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“Why did you tell me you were a scribe, my lord Ana?” asked +Pambasa, as he led me to my beautiful sleeping-place. +</p> + +<p> +“Because that is my trade, Chamberlain.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked at me, shaking his great head till the long white beard waved across +his breast like a temple banner in the faint evening breeze, and answered: +</p> + +<p> +“You are no scribe, you are a magician who can win the love and favour of +his Highness in an hour which others cannot do between two risings of the Nile. +Had you said so at once, you would have been differently treated yonder in the +hall of waiting. Forgive me therefore what I did in ignorance, and, my lord, I +pray it may please you not to melt away in the night, lest my feet should +answer for it beneath the sticks.” +</p> + +<p> +It was the fourth hour from sunrise of the following day that, for the first +time in my life I found myself in the Court of Pharaoh standing with other +members of his household in the train of his Highness, the Prince Seti. It was +a very great place, for Pharaoh sat in the judgment hall, whereof the roof is +upheld by round and sculptured columns, between which were set statues of +Pharaohs who had been. Save at the throne end of the hall, where the light +flowed down through clerestories, the vast chamber was dim almost to darkness; +at least so it seemed to me entering there out of the brilliant sunshine. +Through this gloom many folk moved like shadows; captains, nobles, and state +officers who had been summoned to the Court, and among them white-robed and +shaven priests. Also there were others of whom I took no count, such as Arab +headmen from the desert, traders with jewels and other wares to sell, farmers +and even peasants with petitions to present, lawyers and their clients, and I +know not who besides, though of all these none were suffered to advance beyond +a certain mark where the light began to fall. Speaking in whispers all of these +folk flitted to and fro like bats in a tomb. +</p> + +<p> +We waited between two Hathor-headed pillars in one of the vestibules of the +hall, the Prince Seti, who was clad in purple-broidered garments and wore upon +his brow a fillet of gold from which rose the uræus or hooded snake, also of +gold, that royal ones alone might wear, leaning against the base of a statue, +while the rest of us stood silent behind him. For a time he was silent also, as +a man might be whose thoughts were otherwhere. At length he turned and said to +me: +</p> + +<p> +“This is weary work. Would I had asked you to bring that new tale of +yours, Scribe Ana, that we might have read it together.” +</p> + +<p> +“Shall I tell you the plot of it, Prince?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I mean, not now, lest I should forget my manners listening to you. +Look,” and he pointed to a dark-browed, fierce-eyed man of middle age who +passed up the hall as though he did not see us, “there goes my cousin, +Amenmeses. You know him, do you not?” +</p> + +<p> +I shook my head. +</p> + +<p> +“Then tell me what you think of him, at once before the first judgment +fades.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think he is a royal-looking lord, obstinate in mind and strong in +body, handsome too in his way.” +</p> + +<p> +“All can see that, Ana. What else?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think,” I said in a low voice so that none might overhear, +“that his heart is as black as his brow; that he has grown wicked with +jealousy and hate and will do you evil.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can a man grow wicked, Ana? Is he not as he was born till the end? I do +not know, nor do you. Still you are right, he is jealous and will do me evil if +it brings him good. But tell me, which of us will triumph at the last?” +</p> + +<p> +While I hesitated what to answer I became aware that someone had joined us. +Looking round I perceived a very ancient man clad in a white robe. He was +broad-faced and bald-headed, and his eyes burned beneath his shaggy eyebrows +like two coals in ashes. He supported himself on a staff of cedar-wood, +gripping it with both hands that for thinness were like to those of a mummy. +For a while he considered us both as though he were reading our souls, then +said in a full and jovial voice: +</p> + +<p> +“Greeting, Prince.” +</p> + +<p> +Seti turned, looked at him, and answered: +</p> + +<p> +“Greeting, Bakenkhonsu. How comes it that you are still alive? When we +parted at Thebes I made sure——” +</p> + +<p> +“That on your return you would find me in my tomb. Not so, Prince, it is +I who shall live to look upon you in your tomb, yes, and on others who are yet +to sit in the seat of Pharaoh. Why not? Ho! ho! Why not, seeing that I am but a +hundred and seven, I who remember the first Rameses and have played with his +grandson, your grandsire, as a boy? Why should I not live, Prince, to nurse +your grandson—if the gods should grant you one who as yet have neither +wife nor child?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because you will get tired of life, Bakenkhonsu, as I am already, and +the gods will not be able to spare you much longer.” +</p> + +<p> +“The gods can endure yet a while without me, Prince, when so many are +flocking to their table. Indeed it is their desire that one good priest should +be left in Egypt. Ki the Magician told me so only this morning. He had it +straight from Heaven in a dream last night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why have you been to visit Ki?” asked Seti, looking at him +sharply. “I should have thought that being both of a trade you would have +hated each other.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not so, Prince. On the contrary we add up each other’s account; I +mean, check and interpret each other’s visions, with which we are both of +us much troubled just now. Is that young man a scribe from Memphis?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and my friend. His grandsire was Pentaur the poet.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed. I knew Pentaur well. Often has he read me to sleep with his long +poems, rank stuff that grew like coarse grass upon a deep but half-drained +soil. Are you sure, young man, that Pentaur was your grandfather? You are not +like him. Quite a different kind of herbage, and you know that it is a matter +upon which we must take a woman’s word.” +</p> + +<p> +Seti burst out laughing and I looked at the old priest angrily, though now that +I came to think of it my father always said that his mother was one of the +biggest liars in Egypt. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, let it be,” went on Bakenkhonsu, “till we find out the +truth before Thoth. Ki was speaking of you, young man. I did not pay much +attention to him, but it was something about a sudden vow of friendship between +you and the Prince here. There was a cup in the story too, an alabaster cup +that seemed familiar to me. Ki said it was broken.” +</p> + +<p> +Seti started and I began angrily: +</p> + +<p> +“What do you know of that cup? Where were you hid, O Priest?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, in your souls, I suppose,” he answered dreamily, “or +rather Ki was. But I know nothing, and am not curious. If you had broken the +cup with a woman now, it would have been more interesting, even to an old man. +Be so good as to answer the Prince’s question as to whether he or his +cousin Amenmeses will triumph at the last, for on that matter both Ki and I are +curious.” +</p> + +<p> +“Am I a seer,” I began again still more angrily, “that I +should read the future?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think so, a little, but that is what I want to find out.” +</p> + +<p> +He hobbled towards me, laid one of his claw-like hands upon my arm, and said in +a new voice of command: +</p> + +<p> +“Look now upon that throne and tell me what you see there.” +</p> + +<p> +I obeyed him because I must, staring up the hall at the empty throne. At first +I saw nothing. Then figures seemed to flit around it. From among these figures +emerged the shape of the Count Amenmeses. He sat upon the throne, looking about +him proudly, and I noted that he was no longer clad as a prince but as Pharaoh +himself. Presently hook-nosed men appeared who dragged him from his seat. He +fell, as I thought, into water, for it seemed to splash up above him. Next Seti +the Prince appeared to mount the throne, led thither by a woman, of whom I +could only see the back. I saw him distinctly wearing the double crown and +holding a sceptre in his hand. He also melted away and others came whom I did +not know, though I thought that one of them was like to the Princess Userti. +</p> + +<p> +Now all were gone and I was telling Bakenkhonsu everything I had witnessed like +a man who speaks in his sleep, not by his own will. Suddenly I woke up and +laughed at my own foolishness. But the other two did not laugh; they regarded +me very gravely. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought that you were something of a seer,” said the old priest, +“or rather Ki thought it. I could not quite believe Ki, because he said +that the young person whom I should find with the Prince here this morning +would be one who loved him with all the heart, and it is only a woman who loves +with all the heart, is it not? Or so the world believes. Well, I will talk the +matter over with Ki. Hush! Pharaoh comes.” +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke from far away rose a cry of— +</p> + +<p> +“Life! Blood! Strength! Pharaoh! Pharaoh! Pharaoh!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap04"></a>CHAPTER IV.<br /> +THE COURT OF BETROTHAL</h2> + +<p> +“Life! Blood! Strength!” echoed everyone in the great hall, falling +to their knees and bending their foreheads to the ground. Even the Prince and +the aged Bakenkhonsu prostrated themselves thus as though before the presence +of a god. And, indeed, Pharaoh Meneptah, passing through the patch of sunlight +at the head of the hall, wearing the double crown upon his head and arrayed in +royal robes and ornaments, looked like a god, no less, as the multitude of the +people of Egypt held him to be. He was an old man with the face of one worn by +years and care, but from his person majesty seemed to flow. +</p> + +<p> +With him, walking a step or two behind, went Nehesi his Vizier, a shrivelled, +parchment-faced officer whose cunning eyes rolled about the place, and Roy the +High-priest, and Hora the Chamberlain of the Table, and Meranu the Washer of +the King’s Hands, and Yuy the private scribe, and many others whom +Bakenkhonsu named to me as they appeared. Then there were fan-bearers and a +gorgeous band of lords who were called King’s Companions and Head Butlers +and I know not who besides, and after these guards with spears and helms that +shone like gold, and black swordsmen from the southern land of Kesh. +</p> + +<p> +But one woman accompanied his Majesty, walking alone immediately behind him in +front of the Vizier and the High-priest. She was the Royal Daughter, the +Princess Userti, who looked, I thought, prouder and more splendid than any +there, though somewhat pale and anxious. +</p> + +<p> +Pharaoh came to the steps of the throne. The Vizier and the High-priest +advanced to help him up the steps, for he was feeble with age. He waved them +aside, and beckoning to his daughter, rested his hand upon her shoulder and by +her aid mounted the throne. I thought that there was meaning in this; it was as +though he would show to all the assembly that this princess was the prop of +Egypt. +</p> + +<p> +For a little while he stood still and Userti sat herself down on the topmost +step, resting her chin upon her jewelled hand. There he stood searching the +place with his eyes. He lifted his sceptre and all rose, hundreds and hundreds +of them throughout the hall, their garments rustling as they rose like leaves +in a sudden wind. He seated himself and once more from every throat went up the +regal salutation that was the king’s alone, of— +</p> + +<p> +“Life! Blood! Strength! Pharaoh! Pharaoh! Pharaoh!” +</p> + +<p> +In the silence that followed I heard him say, to the Princess, I think: +</p> + +<p> +“Amenmeses I see, and others of our kin, but where is my son Seti, the +Prince of Egypt?” +</p> + +<p> +“Watching us no doubt from some vestibule. My brother loves not +ceremonials,” answered Userti. +</p> + +<p> +Then, with a little sigh, Seti stepped forward, followed by Bakenkhonsu and +myself, and at a distance by other members of his household. As he marched up +the long hall all drew to this side or that, saluting him with low bows. +Arriving in front of the throne he bent till his knee touched the ground, +saying: +</p> + +<p> +“I give greeting, O King and Father.” +</p> + +<p> +“I give greeting, O Prince and Son. Be seated,” answered Meneptah. +</p> + +<p> +Seti seated himself in a chair that had been made ready for him at the foot of +the throne, and on its right, and in another chair to the left, but set farther +from the steps, Amenmeses seated himself also. At a motion from the Prince I +took my stand behind his chair. +</p> + +<p> +The formal business of the Court began. At the beckoning of an usher people of +all sorts appeared singly and handed in petitions written on rolled-up papyri, +which the Vizier Nehesi took and threw into a leathern sack that was held open +by a black slave. In some cases an answer to his petition, whereof this was +only the formal delivery, was handed back to the suppliant, who touched his +brow with the roll that perhaps meant everything to him, and bowed himself away +to learn his fate. Then appeared sheiks of the desert tribes, and captains from +fortresses in Syria, and traders who had been harmed by enemies, and even +peasants who had suffered violence from officers, each to make his prayer. Of +all of these supplications the scribes took notes, while to some the Vizier and +councillors made answer. But as yet Pharaoh said nothing. There he sat silent +on his splendid throne of ivory and gold, like a god of stone above the altar, +staring down the long hall and through the open doors as though he would read +the secrets of the skies beyond. +</p> + +<p> +“I told you that courts were wearisome, friend Ana,” whispered the +Prince to me without turning his head. “Do you not already begin to wish +that you were back writing tales at Memphis?” +</p> + +<p> +Before I could answer some movement in the throng at the end of the hall drew +the eyes of the Prince and of all of us. I looked, and saw advancing towards +the throne a tall, bearded man already old, although his black hair was but +grizzled with grey. He was arrayed in a white linen robe, over which hung a +woollen cloak such as shepherds wear, and he carried in his hand a long +thornwood staff. His face was splendid and very handsome, and his black eyes +flashed like fire. He walked forward slowly, looking neither to the left nor +the right, and the throng made way for him as though he were a prince. Indeed, +I thought that they showed more fear of him than of any prince, since they +shrank from him as he came. Nor was he alone, for after him walked another man +who was very like to him, but as I judged, still older, for his beard, which +hung down to his middle, was snow-white as was the hair on his head. He also +was dressed in a sheepskin cloak and carried a staff in his hand. Now a whisper +rose among the people and the whisper said: +</p> + +<p> +“The prophets of the men of Israel! The prophets of the men of +Israel!” +</p> + +<p> +The two stood before the throne and looked at Pharaoh, making no obeisance. +Pharaoh looked at them and was silent. For a long space they stood thus in the +midst of a great quiet, but Pharaoh would not speak, and none of his officers +seemed to dare to open their mouths. At length the first of the prophets spoke +in a clear, cold voice as some conqueror might do. +</p> + +<p> +“You know me, Pharaoh, and my errand.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know you,” answered Pharaoh slowly, “as well I may, seeing +that we played together when we were little. You are that Hebrew whom my +sister, she who sleeps in Osiris, took to be as a son to her, giving to you a +name that means ‘drawn forth’ because she drew you forth as an +infant from among the reeds of Nile. Aye, I know you and your brother also, but +your errand I know not.” +</p> + +<p> +“This is my errand, Pharaoh, or rather the errand of Jahveh, God of +Israel, for whom I speak. Have you not heard it before? It is that you should +let his people go to do sacrifice to him in the wilderness.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who is Jahveh? I know not Jahveh who serve Amon and the gods of Egypt, +and why should I let your people go?” +</p> + +<p> +“Jahveh is the God of Israel, the great God of all gods whose power you +shall learn if you will not hearken, Pharaoh. As for why you should let the +people go, ask it of the Prince your son who sits yonder. Ask him of what he +saw in the streets of this city but last night, and of a certain judgment that +he passed upon one of the officers of Pharaoh. Or if he will not tell you, +learn it from the lips of the maiden who is named Merapi, Moon of Israel, the +daughter of Nathan the Levite. Stand forward, Merapi, daughter of Nathan.” +</p> + +<p> +Then from the throng at the back of the hall came forward Merapi, clad in a +white robe and with a black veil thrown about her head in token of mourning, +but not so as to hide her face. Up the hall she glided and made obeisance to +Pharaoh, as she did so, casting one swift look at Seti where he sat. Then she +stood still, looking, as I thought, wonderfully beautiful in that simple robe +of white and the veil of black. +</p> + +<p> +“Speak, woman,” said Pharaoh. +</p> + +<p> +She obeyed, telling all the tale in her low and honeyed voice, nor did any seem +to think it long or wearisome. At length she ended, and Pharaoh said: +</p> + +<p> +“Say, Seti my son, is this truth?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is truth, O my Father. By virtue of my powers as Governor of this +city I caused the captain Khuaka to be put to death for the crime of murder +done by him before my eyes in the streets of the city.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perchance you did right and perchance you did wrong, Son Seti. At least +you are the best judge, and because he struck your royal person, this Khuaka +deserved to die.” +</p> + +<p> +Again he was silent for a while staring through the open doors at the sky +beyond. Then he said: +</p> + +<p> +“What would ye more, Prophets of Jahveh? Justice has been done upon my +officer who slew the man of your people. A life has been taken for a life +according to the strict letter of the law. The matter is finished. Unless you +have aught to say, get you gone.” +</p> + +<p> +“By the command of the Lord our God,” answered the prophet, +“we have this to say to you, O Pharaoh. Lift the heavy yoke from off the +neck of the people of Israel. Bid that they cease from the labour of the making +of bricks to build your walls and cities.” +</p> + +<p> +“And if I refuse, what then?” +</p> + +<p> +“Then the curse of Jahveh shall be on you, Pharaoh, and with plague upon +plague shall he smite this land of Egypt.” +</p> + +<p> +Now a sudden rage seized Meneptah. +</p> + +<p> +“What!” he cried. “Do you dare to threaten me in my own +palace, and would ye cause all the multitude of the people of Israel who have +grown fat in the land to cease from their labours? Hearken, my servants, and, +scribes, write down my decree. Go ye to the country of Goshen and say to the +Israelites that the bricks they made they shall make as aforetime and more work +shall they do than aforetime in the days of my father, Rameses. Only no more +straw shall be given to them for the making of the bricks. Because they are +idle, let them go forth and gather the straw themselves; let them gather it +from the face of the fields.” +</p> + +<p> +There was silence for a while. Then with one voice both the prophets spoke, +pointing with their wands to Pharaoh: +</p> + +<p> +“In the Name of the Lord God we curse you, Pharaoh, who soon shall die +and make answer for this sin. The people of Egypt we curse also. Ruin shall be +their portion; death shall be their bread and blood shall they drink in a great +darkness. Moreover, at the last Pharaoh shall let the people go.” +</p> + +<p> +Then, waiting no answer, they turned and strode away side by side, nor did any +man hinder them in their goings. Again there was silence in the hall, the +silence of fear, for these were awful words that the prophets had spoken. +Pharaoh knew it, for his chin sank upon his breast and his face that had been +red with rage turned white. Userti hid her eyes with her hand as though to shut +out some evil vision, and even Seti seemed ill at ease as though that awful +curse had found a home within his heart. +</p> + +<p> +At a motion of Pharaoh’s hand the Vizier Nehesi struck the ground thrice +with his wand of office and pointed to the door, thus giving the accustomed +sign that the Court was finished, whereon all the people turned and went away +with bent heads speaking no words one to another. Presently the great hall was +emptied save for the officers and guards and those who attended upon Pharaoh. +When everyone had gone Seti the Prince rose and bowed before the throne. +</p> + +<p> +“O Pharaoh,” he said, “be pleased to hearken. We have heard +very evil words spoken by these Hebrew men, words that threaten your divine +life, O Pharaoh, and call down a curse upon the Upper and the Lower Land. +Pharaoh, these people of Israel hold that they suffer wrong and are oppressed. +Now give me, your son, a writing under your hand and seal, by virtue of which I +shall have power to go down to the Land of Goshen and inquire of this matter, +and afterwards make report of the truth to you. Then, if it seems to you that +the People of Israel are unjustly dealt by, you may lighten their burden and +bring the curse of their prophets to nothing. But if it seems to you that the +tales they tell are idle then your words shall stand.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, listening, I, Ana, thought that Pharaoh would once more be angry. But it +was not so, for when he spoke again it was in the voice of one who is crushed +by grief or weariness. +</p> + +<p> +“Have your will, Son,” he said. “Only take with you a great +guard of soldiers lest these hook-nosed dogs should do you mischief. I trust +them not, who, like the Hyksos whose blood runs in many of them, were ever the +foes of Egypt. Did they not conspire with the Ninebow Barbarians whom I crushed +in the great battle, and do they not now threaten us in the name of their +outland god? Still, let the writing be prepared and I will seal it. And stay. I +think, Seti, that you, who were ever gentle-natured, have somewhat too soft a +heart towards these shepherd slaves. Therefore I will not send you alone. +Amenmeses your cousin shall go with you, but under your command. It is +spoken.” +</p> + +<p> +“Life! Blood! Strength!” said both Seti and Amenmeses, thus +acknowledging the king’s command. +</p> + +<p> +Now I thought that all was finished. But it was not so, for presently Pharaoh +said: +</p> + +<p> +“Let the guards withdraw to the end of the hall and with them the +servants. Let the King’s councillors and the officers of the household +remain.” +</p> + +<p> +Instantly all saluted and withdrew out of hearing. I, too, made ready to go, +but the Prince said to me: +</p> + +<p> +“Stay, that you may take note of what passes.” +</p> + +<p> +Pharaoh, watching, saw if he did not hear. +</p> + +<p> +“Who is that man, Son?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“He is Ana my private scribe and librarian, O Pharaoh, whom I trust. It +was he who saved me from harm but last night.” +</p> + +<p> +“You say it, Son. Let him remain in attendance on you, knowing that if he +betrays our council he dies.” +</p> + +<p> +Userti looked up frowning as though she were about to speak. If so, she changed +her mind and was silent, perhaps because Pharaoh’s word once spoken could +not be altered. Bakenkhonsu remained also as a Councillor of the King according +to his right. +</p> + +<p> +When all had gone Pharaoh, who had been brooding, lifted his head and spoke +slowly but in the voice of one who gives a judgment that may not be questioned, +saying: +</p> + +<p> +“Prince Seti, you are my only son born of Queen Ast-Nefert, royal Sister, +royal Mother, who sleeps in the bosom of Osiris. It is true that you are not my +first-born son, since the Count Ramessu”—here he pointed to a stout +mild-faced man of pleasing, rather foolish appearance—“is your +elder by two years. But, as he knows well, his mother, who is still with us, is +a Syrian by birth and of no royal blood, and therefore he can never sit upon +the throne of Egypt. Is it not so, my son Ramessu?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is so, O Pharaoh,” answered the Count in a pleasant voice, +“nor do I seek ever to sit upon that throne, who am well content with the +offices and wealth that Pharaoh has been pleased to confer upon me, his +first-born.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let the words of the Count Ramessu be written down,” said Pharaoh, +“and placed in the temple of Ptah of this city, and in the temples of +Ptah at Memphis and of Amon at Thebes, that hereafter they may never be +questioned.” +</p> + +<p> +The scribes in attendance wrote down the words and, at a sign from the Prince +Seti, I also wrote them down, setting the papyrus I had with me on my knee. +When this was finished Pharaoh went on. +</p> + +<p> +“Therefore, O Prince Seti, you are the heir of Egypt and perhaps, as +those Hebrew prophets said, will ere long be called upon to sit in my place on +its throne.” +</p> + +<p> +“May the King live for ever!” exclaimed Seti, “for well he +knows that I do not seek his crown and dignities.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do know it well, my son; so well that I wish you thought more of that +crown and those dignities which, if the gods will, must come to you. If they +will it not, next in the order of succession stands your cousin, the Count +Amenmeses, who is also of royal blood both on his father’s and his +mother’s side, and after him I know not who, unless it be my daughter and +your half-sister, the royal Princess Userti, Lady of Egypt.” +</p> + +<p> +Now Userti spoke, very earnestly, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“O Pharaoh, surely my right in the succession, according to ancient +precedent, precedes that of my cousin, the Count Amenmeses.” +</p> + +<p> +Amenmeses was about to answer, but Pharaoh lifted his hand and he was silent. +</p> + +<p> +“It is matter for those learned in such lore to discuss,” Meneptah +replied in a somewhat hesitating voice. “I pray the gods that it may +never be needful that this high question should be considered in the Council. +Nevertheless, let the words of the royal Princess be written down. Now, Prince +Seti,” he went on when this had been done, “you are still +unmarried, and if you have children they are not royal.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have none, O Pharaoh,” said Seti. +</p> + +<p> +“Is it so?” answered Meneptah indifferently. “The Count +Amenmeses has children I know, for I have seen them, but by his wife Unuri, who +also is of the royal line, he has none.” +</p> + +<p> +Here I heard Amenmeses mutter, “Being my aunt that is not strange,” +a saying at which Seti smiled. +</p> + +<p> +“My daughter, the Princess, is also unmarried. So it seems that the +fountain of the royal blood is running dry——” +</p> + +<p> +“Now it is coming,” whispered Seti below his breath so that only I +could hear. +</p> + +<p> +“Therefore,” continued Pharaoh, “as you know, Prince Seti, +for the royal Princess of Egypt by my command went to speak to you of this +matter last night, I make a decree——” +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon, O Pharaoh,” interrupted the Prince, “my sister spoke +to me of no decree last night, save that I should attend at the court here +to-day.” +</p> + +<p> +“Because I could not, Seti, seeing that another was present with you whom +you refused to dismiss,” and she let her eyes rest on me. +</p> + +<p> +“It matters not,” said Pharaoh, “since now I will utter it +with my own lips which perhaps is better. It is my will, Prince, that you +forthwith wed the royal Princess Userti, that children of the true blood of the +Ramessides may be born. Hear and obey.” +</p> + +<p> +Now Userti shifted her eyes from me to Seti, watching him very closely. Seated +at his side upon the ground with my writing roll spread across my knee, I, too, +watched him closely, and noted that his lips turned white and his face grew +fixed and strange. +</p> + +<p> +“I hear the command of Pharaoh,” he said in a low voice making +obeisance, and hesitated. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you aught to add?” asked Meneptah sharply. +</p> + +<p> +“Only, O Pharaoh, that though this would be a marriage decreed for +reasons of the State, still there is a lady who must be given in marriage, and +she my half-sister who heretofore has only loved me as a relative. Therefore, I +would know from her lips if it is her will to take me as a husband.” +</p> + +<p> +Now all looked at Userti who replied in a cold voice: +</p> + +<p> +“In this matter, Prince, as in all others I have no will but that of +Pharaoh.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have heard,” interrupted Meneptah impatiently, “and as +in our House it has always been the custom for kin to marry kin, why should it +not be her will? Also, who else should she marry? Amenmeses is already wed. +There remains only Saptah his brother who is younger than +herself——” +</p> + +<p> +“So am I,” murmured Seti, “by two long years,” but +happily Userti did not hear him. +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, my father,” she said with decision, “never will I take +a deformed man to husband.” +</p> + +<p> +Now from the shadow on the further side of the throne, where I could not see +him, there hobbled forward a young noble, short in stature, light-haired like +Seti, and with a sharp, clever face which put me in mind of that of a jackal +(indeed for this reason he was named Thoth by the common people, after the +jackal-headed god). He was very angry, for his cheeks were flushed and his +small eyes flashed. +</p> + +<p> +“Must I listen, Pharaoh,” he said in a little voice, “while +my cousin the Royal Princess reproaches me in public for my lame foot, which I +have because my nurse let me fall when I was still in arms?” +</p> + +<p> +“Then his nurse let his grandfather fall also, for he too was +club-footed, as I who have seen him naked in his cradle can bear +witness,” whispered old Bakenkhonsu. +</p> + +<p> +“It seems so, Count Saptah, unless you stop your ears,” replied +Pharaoh. +</p> + +<p> +“She says she will not marry me,” went on Saptah, “me who +from childhood have been a slave to her and to no other woman.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not by my wish, Saptah. Indeed, I pray you to go and be a slave to any +woman whom you will,” exclaimed Userti. +</p> + +<p> +“But I say,” continued Saptah, “that one day she shall marry +me, for the Prince Seti will not live for ever.” +</p> + +<p> +“How do you know that, Cousin?” asked Seti. “The High-priest +here will tell you a different story.” +</p> + +<p> +Now certain of those present turned their heads away to hide the smile upon +their faces. Yet on this day some god spoke with Saptah’s voice making +him a prophet, since in a year to come she did marry him, in order that she +might stay upon the throne at a time of trouble when Egypt would not suffer +that a woman should have sole rule over the land. +</p> + +<p> +But Pharaoh did not smile like the courtiers; indeed he grew angry. +</p> + +<p> +“Peace, Saptah!” he said. “Who are you that wrangle before +me, talking of the death of kings and saying that you will wed the Royal +princess? One more such word and you shall be driven into banishment. Hearken +now. Almost am I minded to declare my daughter, the Royal Princess, sole +heiress to the throne, seeing that in her there is more strength and wisdom +than in any other of our House.” +</p> + +<p> +“If such be Pharaoh’s will, let Pharaoh’s will be +done,” said Seti most humbly. “Well I know my own unworthiness to +fill so high a station, and by all the gods I swear that my beloved sister will +find no more faithful subject than myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean, Seti,” interrupted Userti, “that rather than marry +me you would abandon your right to the double crown. Truly I am honoured. Seti, +whether you reign or I, I will not marry you.” +</p> + +<p> +“What words are these I hear?” cried Meneptah. “Is there +indeed one in this land of Egypt who dares to say that Pharaoh’s decree +shall be disobeyed? Write it down, Scribes, and you, O Officers, let it be +proclaimed from Thebes to the sea, that on the third day from now at the hour +of noon in the temple of Hathor in this city, the Prince, the Royal Heir, Seti +Meneptah, Beloved of Ra, will wed the Royal Princess of Egypt, Lily of Love, +Beloved of Hathor, Userti, Daughter of me, the god.” +</p> + +<p> +“Life! Blood! Strength!” called all the Court. +</p> + +<p> +Then, guided by some high officer, the Prince Seti was led before the throne +and the Princess Userti was set beside him, or rather facing him. According to +the ancient custom a great gold cup was brought and filled with red wine, to me +it looked like blood. Userti took the cup and, kneeling, gave it to the Prince, +who drank and gave it back to her that she might also drink in solemn token of +their betrothal. Is not the scene graven on the broad bracelets of gold which +in after days Seti wore when he sat upon the throne, those same bracelets that +at a future time I with my own hands clasped about the wrists of dead Userti? +</p> + +<p> +Then he stretched out his hand which she touched with her lips, and bending +down he kissed her on the brow. Lastly, Pharaoh, descending to the lowest step +of the throne, laid his sceptre, first upon the head of the Prince, and next +upon that of the Princess, blessing them both in the name of himself, of his Ka +or Double, and of the spirits and Kas of all their forefathers, kings and +queens of Egypt, thus appointing them to come after him when he had been +gathered to the bosom of the gods. +</p> + +<p> +These things done, he departed in state, surrounded by his court, preceded and +followed by his guards and leaning on the arm of the Princess Userti, whom he +loved better than anyone in the world. +</p> + +<p> +A while later I stood alone with the Prince in his private chamber, where I had +first seen him. +</p> + +<p> +“That is finished,” he said in a cheerful voice, “and I tell +you, Ana, that I feel quite, quite happy. Have you ever shivered upon the bank +of a river of a winter morning, fearing to enter, and yet, when you did enter, +have you not been pleased to find that the icy water refreshed you and made you +not cold but hot?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Prince. It is when one comes out of the water, if the wind blows +and no sun shines, that one feels colder than before.” +</p> + +<p> +“True, Ana, and therefore one must not come out. One should stop there +till one—drowns or is eaten by a crocodile. But, say, did I do it +well?” +</p> + +<p> +“Old Bakenkhonsu told me, Prince, that he had been present at many royal +betrothals, I think he said eleven, and had never seen one conducted with more +grace. He added that the way in which you kissed the brow of her Highness was +perfect, as was all your demeanour after the first argument.” +</p> + +<p> +“And so it would remain, Ana, if I were never called upon to do more than +kiss her brow, to which I have been accustomed from boyhood. Oh! Ana, +Ana,” he added in a kind of cry, “already you are becoming a +courtier like the rest of them, a courtier who cannot speak the truth. Well, +nor can I, so why should I blame you? Tell me again all about your marriage, +Ana, of how it began and how it ended.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap05"></a>CHAPTER V.<br /> +THE PROPHECY</h2> + +<p> +Whether or no the Prince Seti saw Userti again before the hour of his marriage +with her I cannot say, because he never told me. Indeed I was not present at +the marriage, for the reason that I had been granted leave to return to +Memphis, there to settle my affairs and sell my house on entering upon my +appointment as private scribe to his Highness. Thus it came about that fourteen +full days went by from that of the holding of the Court of Betrothal before I +found myself standing once more at the gate of the Prince’s palace, +attended by a servant who led an ass on which were laden all my manuscripts and +certain possessions that had descended to me from my ancestors with the +title-deeds of their tombs. Different indeed was my reception on this my second +coming. Even as I reached the steps the old chamberlain Pambasa appeared, +running down them so fast that his white robes and beard streamed upon the air. +</p> + +<p> +“Greeting, most learned scribe, most honourable Ana,” he panted. +“Glad indeed am I to see you, since every hour his Highness asks if you +have returned, and blames me because you have not come. Verily I believe that +if you had stayed upon the road another day I should have been sent to look for +you, who have had sharp words said to me because I did not arrange that you +should be accompanied by a guard, as though the Vizier Nehesi would have paid +the costs of a guard without the direct order of Pharaoh. O most excellent Ana, +give me of the charm which you have doubtless used to win the love of our royal +master, and I will pay you well for it who find it easier to earn his +wrath.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will, Pambasa. Here it is—write better stories than I do instead +of telling them, and he will love you more than he does me. But say—how +went the marriage? I have heard upon the way that it was very splendid.” +</p> + +<p> +“Splendid! Oh! it was ten times more than splendid. It was as though the +god Osiris were once more wed to the goddess Isis in the very halls of heaven. +Indeed his Highness, the bridegroom, was dressed as a god, yes, he wore the +robes and the holy ornaments of Amon. And the procession! And the feast that +Pharaoh gave! I tell you that the Prince was so overcome with joy and all this +weight of glory that, before it was over, looking at him I saw that his eyes +were closed, being dazzled by the gleam of gold and jewels and the loveliness +of his royal bride. He told me that it was so himself, fearing perhaps lest I +should have thought that he was asleep. Then there were the presents, something +to everyone of us according to his degree. I got—well it matters not. +And, learned Ana, I did not forget you. Knowing well that everything would be +gone before you returned I spoke your name in the ear of his Highness, offering +to keep your gift.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, Pambasa, and what did he say?” +</p> + +<p> +“He said that he was keeping it himself. When I stared wondering what it +might be, for I saw nothing on him, he added, ‘It is here,’ and +touched the private signet guard that he has always worn, an ancient ring of +gold, but of no great value I should say, with ‘Beloved of Thoth and of +the King’ cut upon it. It seems that he must take it off to make room for +another and much finer ring which her Highness has given him.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, by this time, the ass having been unloaded by the slaves and led away, we +had passed through the hall where many were idling as ever, and were come to +the private apartments of the palace. +</p> + +<p> +“This way,” said Pambasa. “The orders are that I am to take +you to the Prince wherever he may be, and just now he is seated in the great +apartment with her Highness, where they have been receiving homage and +deputations from distant cities. The last left about half an hour ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“First I will prepare myself, worthy Pambasa,” I began. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, the orders are instant, I dare not disobey them. Enter,” +and with a courtly flourish he drew a rich curtain. +</p> + +<p> +“By Amon,” exclaimed a weary voice which I knew as that of the +Prince, “here come more councillors or priests. Prepare, my sister, +prepare!” +</p> + +<p> +“I pray you, Seti,” answered another voice, that of Userti, +“to learn to call me by my right name, which is no longer sister. Nor, +indeed, am I your full sister.” +</p> + +<p> +“I crave your pardon,” said Seti. “Prepare, Royal Wife, +prepare!” +</p> + +<p> +By now the curtain was fully drawn and I stood, travel-stained, forlorn and, to +tell the truth, trembling a little, for I feared her Highness, in the doorway, +hesitating to pass the threshold. Beyond was a splendid chamber full of light, +in the centre of which upon a carven and golden chair, one of two that were set +there, sat her Highness magnificently apparelled, faultlessly beautiful and +calm. She was engaged in studying a painted roll, left no doubt by the last +deputation, for others similar to it were laid neatly side by side upon a table. +</p> + +<p> +The second chair was empty, for the Prince was walking restlessly up and down +the chamber, his ceremonial robe somewhat disarrayed and the uræus circlet of +gold which he wore, tilted back upon his head, because of his habit of running +his fingers through his brown hair. As I still stood in the dark shadow, for +Pambasa had left me, and thus remained unseen, the talk went on. +</p> + +<p> +“I am prepared, Husband. Pardon me, it is you who look otherwise. Why +would you dismiss the scribes and the household before the ceremony was +ended?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because they wearied me,” said Seti, “with their continual +bowing and praising and formalities.” +</p> + +<p> +“In which I saw nothing unusual. Now they must be recalled.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let whoever it is enter,” he exclaimed. +</p> + +<p> +Then I stepped forward into the light, prostrating myself. +</p> + +<p> +“Why,” he cried, “it is Ana returned from Memphis! Draw near, +Ana, and a thousand welcomes to you. Do you know I thought that you were +another high-priest, or governor of some Nome of which I had never heard.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ana! Who is Ana?” asked the Princess. “Oh! I remember that +scribe——. Well, it is plain that he has returned from +Memphis,” and she eyed my dusty robe. +</p> + +<p> +“Royal One,” I murmured abashed, “do not blame me that I +enter your presence thus. Pambasa led me here against my will by the direct +order of the Prince.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it so? Say, Seti, does this man bring tidings of import from Memphis +that you needed his presence in such haste?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Userti, at least I think so. You have the writings safe, have you +not, Ana?” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite safe, your Highness,” I answered, though I knew not of what +writings he spoke, unless they were the manuscripts of my stories. +</p> + +<p> +“Then, my Lord, I will leave you to talk of the tidings from Memphis and +these writings,” said the Princess. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes. We must talk of them, Userti. Also of the journey to the land +of Goshen on which Ana starts with me to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +“To-morrow! Why this morning you told me it was fixed for three days +hence.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did I, Sister—I mean Wife? If so, it was because I was not sure +whether Ana, who is to be my chariot companion, would be back.” +</p> + +<p> +“A scribe your chariot companion! Surely it would be more fitting that +your cousin Amenmeses——” +</p> + +<p> +“To Set with Amenmeses!” he exclaimed. “You know well, +Userti, that the man is hateful to me with his cunning yet empty talk.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed! I grieve to hear it, for when you hate you show it, and +Amenmeses may be a bad enemy. Then if not our cousin Amenmeses who is not +hateful to me, there is Saptah.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thank you; I will not travel in a cage with a jackal.” +</p> + +<p> +“Jackal! I do not love Saptah, but one of the royal blood of Egypt a +jackal! Then there is Nehesi the Vizier, or the General of the escort whose +name I forget.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think, Userti, that I wish to talk about state economies with +that old money-sack, or to listen to boastings of deeds he never did in war +from a half-bred Nubian butcher?” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know, Husband. Yet of what will you talk with this Ana? Of +poems, I suppose, and silliness. Or will it be perchance of Merapi, Moon of +Israel, whom I gather both of you think so beautiful. Well, have your way. You +tell me that I am not to accompany you upon this journey, I your new-made wife, +and now I find that it is because you wish my place to be filled by a writer of +tales whom you picked up the other day—your ‘twin in Ra’ +forsooth! Fare you well, my Lord,” and she rose from her seat, gathering +up her robes with both hands. +</p> + +<p> +Then Seti grew angry. +</p> + +<p> +“Userti,” he said, stamping upon the floor, “you should not +use such words. You know well that I do not take you with me because there may +be danger yonder among the Hebrews. Moreover, it is not Pharaoh’s +wish.” +</p> + +<p> +She turned and answered with cold courtesy: +</p> + +<p> +“Then I crave your pardon and thank you for your kind thought for the +safety of my person. I knew not this mission was so dangerous. Be careful, +Seti, that the scribe Ana comes to no harm.” +</p> + +<p> +So saying she bowed and vanished through the curtains. +</p> + +<p> +“Ana,” said Seti, “tell me, for I never was quick at figures, +how many minutes is it from now till the fourth hour to-morrow morning when I +shall order my chariot to be ready? Also, do you know whether it is possible to +travel from Goshen across the marshes and to return by Syria? Or, failing that, +to travel across the desert to Thebes and sail down the Nile in the +spring?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! my Prince, my Prince,” I said, “I pray you to dismiss +me. Let me go anywhere out of the reach of her Highness’s tongue.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is strange how alike we think upon every matter, Ana, even of Merapi +and the tongues of royal ladies. Hearken to my command. You are not to go. If +it is a question of going, there are others who will go first. Moreover, you +cannot go, but must stay and bear your burdens as I bear mine. Remember the +broken cup, Ana.” +</p> + +<p> +“I remember, my Prince, but sooner would I be scourged with rods than by +such words as those to which I must listen.” +</p> + +<p> +Yet that very night, when I had left the Prince, I was destined to hear more +pleasant words from this same changeful, or perchance politic, royal lady. She +sent for me and I went, much afraid. I found her in a small chamber alone, save +for one old lady of honour who sat at the end of the room and appeared to be +deaf, which perhaps was why she was chosen. Userti bade me be seated before her +very courteously, and spoke to me thus, whether because of some talk she had +held with the Prince or not, I do not know. +</p> + +<p> +“Scribe Ana, I ask your pardon if, being vexed and wearied, I said to you +and of you to-day what I now wish I had left unsaid. I know well that you, +being of the gentle blood of Egypt, will make no report of what you heard +outside these walls.” +</p> + +<p> +“May my tongue be cut out first,” I answered. +</p> + +<p> +“It seems, Scribe Ana, that my lord the Prince has taken a great love of +you. How or why this came about so suddenly, you being a man, I do not +understand, but I am sure that as it is so, it must be because there is much in +you to love, since never did I know the Prince to show deep regard for one who +was not most honourable and worthy. Now things being so, it is plain that you +will become the favourite of his Highness, a man who does not change his mind +in such matters, and that he will tell you all his secret thoughts, perhaps +some that he hides from the Councillors of State, or even from me. In short you +will grow into a power in the land and perhaps one day be the greatest in +it—after Pharaoh—although you may still seem to be but a private +scribe. +</p> + +<p> +“I do not pretend to you that I should have wished this to be so, who +would rather that my husband had but one real councillor—myself. Yet +seeing that it is so, I bow my head, hoping that it may be decreed for the +best. If ever any jealousy should overcome me in this matter and I should speak +sharply to you, as I did to-day, I ask your pardon in advance for that which +has not happened, as I have asked it for that which has happened. I pray of +you, Scribe Ana, that you will do your best to influence the mind of the Prince +for good, since he is easily led by any whom he loves. I pray you also being +quick and thoughtful, as I see you are, that you will make a study of +statecraft, and of the policies of our royal House, coming to me, if it be +needful, for instruction therein, so that you may be able to guide the feet of +the Prince aright, should he turn to you for counsel.” +</p> + +<p> +“All of this I will do, your Highness, if by any chance it lies in my +power, though who am I that I should hope to make a path for the feet of kings? +Moreover, I would add this, although he is so gentle-natured, I think that in +the end the Prince is one who will always choose his own path.” +</p> + +<p> +“It may be so Ana. At the least I thank you. I pray you to be sure also +that in me you will always have a friend and not an enemy, although at times +the quickness of my nature, which has never been controlled, may lead you to +think otherwise. Now I will say one more thing that shall be secret between us. +I know that the Prince loves me as a friend and relative rather than as a wife, +and that he would not have sought this marriage of himself, as is perhaps +natural. I know, too, that other women will come into his life, though these +may be fewer than in the case of most kings, because he is more hard to please. +Of such I cannot complain, as this is according to the customs of our country. +I fear only one thing—namely that some woman, ceasing to be his toy, may +take Seti’s heart and make him altogether hers. In this matter, Scribe +Ana, as in others I ask your help, since I would be queen of Egypt in all ways, +not in name only.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your Highness, how can I say to the Prince—‘So much shall +you love this or that woman and no more?’ Moreover, why do you fear that +which has not and may never come about?” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know how you can say such a thing, Scribe, still I ask you to +say it if you can. As to why I fear, it is because I seem to feel the near +shadow of some woman lying cold upon me and building a wall of blackness +between his Highness and myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is but a dream, Princess.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mayhap. I hope so. Yet I think otherwise. Oh! Ana, cannot you, who study +the hearts of men and women, understand my case? I have married where I can +never hope to be loved as other women are, I who am a wife, yet not a wife. I +read your thought; it is—why then did you marry? Since I have told you so +much I will tell you that also. First, it is because the Prince is different to +other men and in his own fashion above them, yes, far above any with whom I +could have wed as royal heiress of Egypt. Secondly, because being cut off from +love, what remains to me but ambition? At least I would be a great queen, as +was Hatshepu in her day, and lift my country out of the many troubles in which +it is sunk and write my name large upon the books of history, which I could +only do by taking Pharaoh’s heir to husband, as is my duty.” +</p> + +<p> +She brooded a while, then added, “Now I have shown you all my thought. +Whether I have been wise to do so the gods know alone and time will tell +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Princess,” I said, “I thank you for trusting me and I will +help you if I may. Yet I am troubled. I, a humble man if of good blood, who a +little while ago was but a scribe and a student, a dreamer who had known +trouble also, have suddenly by chance, or some divine decree, been lifted high +in the favour of the heir of Egypt, and it would seem have even won your trust. +Now I wonder how I shall bear myself in this new place which in truth I never +sought.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know, who find the present and its troubles enough to carry. +But, doubtless, the decree of which you speak that set you there has also +written down what will be the end of all. Meanwhile, I have a gift for you. +Say, Scribe, have you ever handled any weapon besides a pen?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, your Highness, as a lad I was skilled in sword play. Moreover, +though I do not love war and bloodshed, some years ago I fought in the great +battle between the Ninebow Barbarians, when Pharaoh called upon the young men +of Memphis to do their part. With my own hands I slew two in fair fight, though +one nearly brought me to my end,” and I pointed to a scar which showed +red through my grey hair where a spear had bitten deep. +</p> + +<p> +“It is well, or so I think, who love soldiers better than stainers of +papyrus pith.” +</p> + +<p> +Then, going to a painted chest of reeds, she took from it a wonderful shirt of +mail fashioned of bronze rings, and a short sword also of bronze, having a +golden hilt of which the end was shaped to the likeness of the head of a lion, +and with her own hands gave them to me, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“These are spoils that my grandsire, the great Rameses, took in his youth +from a prince of the Khitah, whom he smote with his own hands in Syria in that +battle whereof your grandfather made the poem. Wear the shirt, which no spear +will pierce, beneath your robe and gird the sword about you when you go down +yonder among the Israelites, whom I do not trust. I have given a like coat to +the Prince. Let it be your duty to see that it is upon his sacred person day +and night. Let it be your duty also, if need arises, with this sword to defend +him to the death. Farewell.” +</p> + +<p> +“May all the gods reject me from the Fields of the Blessed if I fail in +this trust,” I answered, and departed wondering, to seek sleep which, as +it chanced, I was not to find for a while. +</p> + +<p> +For as I went down the corridor, led by one of the ladies of the household, +whom should I find waiting at the end of it but old Pambasa to inform me with +many bows that the Prince needed my presence. I asked how that could be seeing +he had dismissed me for the night. He replied that he did not know, but he was +commanded to conduct me to the private chamber, the same room in which I had +first seen his Highness. Thither I went and found him warming himself at the +fire, for the night was cold. Looking up he bade Pambasa admit those who were +waiting, then noting the shirt of mail and the sword I carried in my hand, said: +</p> + +<p> +“You have been with the Princess, have you not, and she must have had +much to say to you for your talk was long? Well, I think I can guess its +purport who from a child have known her mind. She told you to watch me well, +body and heart and all that comes from the heart—oh! and much else. Also +she gave you that Syrian gear to wear among the Hebrews as she has given the +like to me, being of a careful mind which foresees everything. Now, hearken, +Ana; I grieve to keep you from your rest, who must be weary both with talk and +travel. But old Bakenkhonsu, whom you know, waits without, and with him Ki the +great magician, whom I think you have not seen. He is a man of wonderful lore +and in some ways not altogether human. At least he does strange feats of magic, +and at times both the past and the future seem to be open to his sight, though +as we know neither the one nor the other, who can tell whether he reads them +truly. Doubtless he has, or thinks he has, some message to me from the heavens, +which I thought you might wish to hear.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish it much, Prince, if I am worthy, and you will protect me from the +anger of this magician whom I fear.” +</p> + +<p> +“Anger sometimes turns to trust, Ana. Did you not find it so just now in +the case of her Highness, as I told you might very well happen? Hush! They +come. Be seated and prepare your tablets to make record of what they say.” +</p> + +<p> +The curtains were drawn and through them came the aged Bakenkhonsu leaning upon +his staff, and with him another man, Ki himself, clad in a white robe and +having his head shaven, for he was an hereditary priest of Amon of Thebes and +an initiate of Isis, Mother of Mysteries. Also his office was that of Kherheb, +or chief magician of Egypt. At first sight there was nothing strange about this +man. Indeed, he might well have been a middle-aged merchant by his looks; in +body he was short and stout; in face fat and smiling. But in this jovial +countenance were set two very strange eyes, grey-hued rather than black. While +the rest of the face seemed to smile these eyes looked straight into +nothingness as do those of a statue. Indeed they were like to the eyes or +rather the eye-places of a stone statue, so deeply were they set into the head. +For my part I can only say I thought them awful, and by their look judged that +whatever Ki might be he was no cheat. +</p> + +<p> +This strange pair bowed to the Prince and seated themselves at a sign from him, +Bakenkhonsu upon a stool because he found it difficult to rise, and Ki, who was +younger, scribe fashion on the ground. +</p> + +<p> +“What did I tell you, Bakenkhonsu?” said Ki in a full, rich voice, +ending the words with a curious chuckle. +</p> + +<p> +“You told me, Magician, that we should find the Prince in this chamber of +which you described every detail to me as I see it now, although neither of us +have entered it before. You said also that seated therein on the ground would +be the scribe Ana, whom I know but you do not, having in his hands waxen +tablets and a stylus and by him a coat of curious mail and a lion-hilted +sword.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is strange,” interrupted the Prince, “but forgive me, +Bakenkhonsu sees these things. If you, O Ki, would tell us what is written upon +Ana’s tablets which neither of you can see, it would be stranger still, +that is if anything is written.” +</p> + +<p> +Ki smiled and stared upwards at the ceiling. Presently he said: +</p> + +<p> +“The scribe Ana uses a shorthand of his own that is not easy to decipher. +Yet I see written on the tablets the price he obtained for some house in a city +that is not named—it is so much. Also I see the sums he disbursed for +himself, a servant, and the food of an ass at two inns where he stopped upon a +journey. They are so much and so much. Also there is a list of papyrus rolls +and the words, ‘blue cloak,’ and then an erasure.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is that right, Ana?” asked the Prince. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite right,” I answered with awe, “only the words +‘blue cloak,’ which it is true I wrote upon the tablet, have also +been erased.” +</p> + +<p> +Ki chuckled and turned his eyes from the ceiling to my face. +</p> + +<p> +“Would your Highness wish me to tell you anything of what is written upon +the tablets of this scribe’s memory as well as upon those of wax which he +holds in his hand? They are easier to decipher than the others and I see on +them many things of interest. For instance, secret words that seem to have been +said to him by some Great One within an hour, matters of high policy, I think. +For instance, a certain saying, I think of your Highness’s, as to +shivering upon the edge of water on a cold day, which when entered produced +heat, and the answer thereto. For instance, words that were spoken in this +palace when an alabaster cup was broke. By the way, Scribe, that was a very +good place you chose in which to hide one half of the cup in the false bottom +of a chest in your chamber, a chest that is fastened with a cord and sealed +with a scarab of the time of the second Rameses. I think that the other half of +the cup is somewhat nearer at hand,” and turning, he stared at the wall +where I could see nothing save slabs of alabaster. +</p> + +<p> +Now I sat open-mouthed, for how could this man know these things, and the +Prince laughed outright, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“Ana, I begin to think you keep your counsel ill. At least I should think +so, were it not that you have had no time to tell what the Princess yonder may +have said to you, and can scarcely know the trick of the sliding panel in that +wall which I have never shown to you.” +</p> + +<p> +Ki chuckled again and a smile grew on old Bakenkhonsu’s broad and +wrinkled face. +</p> + +<p> +“O Prince,” I began, “I swear to you that never has one word +passed my lips of aught——” +</p> + +<p> +“I know it, friend,” broke in the Prince, “but it seems there +are some who do not wait for words but can read the Book of Thought. Therefore +it is not well to meet them too often, since all have thoughts that should be +known only to them and God. Magician, what is your business with me? Speak on +as though we were alone.” +</p> + +<p> +“This, Prince. You go upon a journey among the Hebrews, as all have +heard. Now, Bakenkhonsu and I, also two seers of my College, seeing that we all +love you and that your welfare is much to Egypt, have separately sought out the +future as regards the issue of this journey. Although what we have learned +differs in some matters, on others it is the same. Therefore we thought it our +duty to tell you what we have learned.” +</p> + +<p> +“Say on, Kherheb.” +</p> + +<p> +“First, then, that your Highness’s life will be in danger.” +</p> + +<p> +“Life is always in danger, Ki. Shall I lose it? If so, do not fear to +tell me.” +</p> + +<p> +“We do not know, but we think not, because of the rest that is revealed +to us. We learn that it is not your body only that will be in danger. Upon this +journey you will see a woman whom you will come to love. This woman will, we +think, bring you much sorrow and also much joy.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then perhaps the journey is worth making, Ki, since many travel far +before they find aught they can love. Tell me, have I met this woman?” +</p> + +<p> +“There we are troubled, Prince, for it would seem—unless we are +deceived—that you have met her often and often; that you have known her +for thousands of years, as you have known that man at your side for thousands +of years.” +</p> + +<p> +Seti’s face grew very interested. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean, Magician?” he asked, eyeing him keenly. +“How can I who am still young have known a woman and a man for thousands +of years?” +</p> + +<p> +Ki considered him with his strange eyes, and answered: +</p> + +<p> +“You have many titles, Prince. Is not one of them ‘Lord of +Rebirths,’ and if so, how did you get it and what does it mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is. What it means I do not know, but it was given to me because of +some dream that my mother had the night before I was born. Do <i>you</i> tell +<i>me</i> what it means, since you seem to know so much.” +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot, Prince. The secret is not one that has been shown to me. Yet +there was an aged man, a magician like myself from whom I learned much in my +youth—Bakenkhonsu knew him well—who made a study of this matter. He +told me he was sure, because it had been revealed to him, that men do not live +once only and then depart hence for ever. He said that they live many times and +in many shapes, though not always on this world, and that between each life +there is a wall of darkness.” +</p> + +<p> +“If so, of what use are lives which we do not remember after death has +shut the door of each of them?” +</p> + +<p> +“The doors may open again at last, Prince, and show us all the chambers +through which our feet have wandered from the beginning.” +</p> + +<p> +“Our religion teaches us, Ki, that after death we live eternally +elsewhere in our own bodies, which we find again on the day of resurrection. +Now eternity, having no end, can have no beginning; it is a circle. Therefore +if the one be true, namely that we live on, it would seem that the other must +be true, namely that we have always lived.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is well reasoned, Prince. In the early days, before the priests +froze the thought of man into blocks of stone and built of them shrines to a +thousand gods, many held that this reasoning was true, as then they held that +there was but one god.” +</p> + +<p> +“As do these Israelites whom I go to visit. What say you of their god, +Ki?” +</p> + +<p> +“That <i>he</i> is the same as our gods, Prince. To men’s eyes God +has many faces, and each swears that the one he sees is the only true god. Yet +they are wrong, for all are true.” +</p> + +<p> +“Or perchance false, Ki, unless even falsehood is a part of truth. Well, +you have told me of two dangers, one to my body and one to my heart. Has any +other been revealed to your wisdom?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Prince. The third is that this journey may in the end cost you your +throne.” +</p> + +<p> +“If I die certainly it will cost me my throne.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, Prince, if you live.” +</p> + +<p> +“Even so, Ki, I think that I could endure life seated more humbly than on +a throne, though whether her Highness could endure it is another matter. Then +you say that if I go upon this journey another will be Pharaoh in my +place.” +</p> + +<p> +“We do not say that, Prince. It is true that our arts have shown us +another filling your place in a time of wizardry and wonders and of the death +of thousands. Yet when we look again we see not that other but you once more +filling your own place.” +</p> + +<p> +Here I, Ana, bethought me of my vision in Pharaoh’s hall. +</p> + +<p> +“The matter is even worse than I thought, Ki, since having once left the +crown behind me, I think that I should have no wish to wear it any more,” +said Seti. “Who shows you all these things, and how?” +</p> + +<p> +“Our <i>Kas</i>, which are our secret selves, show them to us, Prince, +and in many ways. Sometimes it is by dreams or visions, sometimes by pictures +on water, sometimes by writings in the desert sand. In all these fashions, and +by others, our <i>Kas</i>, drawing from the infinite well of wisdom that is +hidden in the being of every man, give us glimpses of the truth, as they give +us who are instructed power to work marvels.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of the truth. Then these things you tell me are true?” +</p> + +<p> +“We believe so, Prince.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then being true must happen. So what is the use of your warning me +against what must happen? There cannot be two truths. What would you have me +do? Not go upon this journey? Why have you told me that I must not go, since if +I did not go the truth would become a lie, which it cannot? You say it is fated +that I should go and because I go such and such things will come about. And yet +you tell me not to go, for that is what you mean. Oh! Kherheb Ki and +Bakenkhonsu, doubtless you are great magicians and strong in wisdom, but there +are greater than you who rule the world, and there is a wisdom to which yours +is but as a drop of water to the Nile. I thank you for your warnings, but +to-morrow I go down to the land of Goshen to fulfil the commands of Pharaoh. If +I come back again we will talk more of these matters here upon the earth. If I +do not come back, perchance we will talk of them elsewhere. Farewell.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap06"></a>CHAPTER VI.<br /> +THE LAND OF GOSHEN</h2> + +<p> +The Prince Seti and all his train, a very great company, came in safety to the +land of Goshen, I, Ana, travelling with him in his chariot. It was then as now +a rich land, quite flat after the last line of desert hills through which we +travelled by a narrow, tortuous path. Everywhere it was watered by canals, +between which lay the grain fields wherein the seed had just been sown. Also +there were other fields of green fodder whereon were tethered beasts by the +hundred, and beyond these, upon the drier soil, grazed flocks of sheep. The +town Goshen, if so it could be called, was but a poor place, numbers of mud +huts, no more, in the centre of which stood a building, also of mud, with two +brick pillars in front of it, that we were told was the temple of this people, +into the inner parts of which none might enter save their High-priest. I +laughed at the sight of it, but the Prince reproved me, saying that I should +not judge the spirit by the body, or of the god by his house. +</p> + +<p> +We camped outside this town and soon learned that the people who dwelt in it or +elsewhere in other towns must be numbered by the ten thousand, for more of them +than I could count wandered round the camp to look at us. The men were +fierce-eyed and hook-nosed; the young women well-shaped and pleasant to behold; +the older women for the most part stout and somewhat unwieldy, and the children +very beautiful. All were roughly clad in robes of loosely-woven, dark-coloured +cloth, beneath which the women wore garments of white linen. Notwithstanding +the wealth we saw about us in corn and cattle, their ornaments seemed to be +few, or perhaps these were hidden from our sight. +</p> + +<p> +It was easy to see that they hated us Egyptians, and even dared to despise us. +Hate shone in their glittering eyes, and I heard them calling us the +‘idol-worshippers’ one to the other, and asking where was our god, +the Bull, for being ignorant they thought that we worshipped Apis (as mayhap +some of the common people do) instead of looking upon the sacred beast as a +symbol of the powers of Nature. Indeed they did more, for on the first night +after our coming they slaughtered a bull marked much as Apis is, and in the +morning we found it lying near the gate of the camp, and pinned to its hide +with sharp thorns great numbers of the scarabæus beetle still living. For +again they did not know that among us Egyptians this beetle is no god but an +emblem of the Creator, because it rolls a ball of mud between its feet and sets +therein its eggs to hatch, as the Creator rolls the world that seems to be +round, and causes it to produce life. +</p> + +<p> +Now all were angry at these insults except the Prince, who laughed and said +that he thought the jest coarse but clever. But worse was to happen. It seems +that a soldier with wine in him had done insult to a Hebrew maiden who came +alone to draw water at a canal. The news spread among the people and some +thousands of them rushed to the camp, shouting and demanding vengeance in so +threatening a manner that it was necessary to form up the regiments of guards. +</p> + +<p> +The Prince being summoned commanded that the girl and her kin should be +admitted and state their case. She came, weeping and wailing and tearing her +garments, throwing dust on her head also, though it appeared that she had taken +no great harm from the soldier from whom she ran away. The Prince bade her +point out the man if she could see him, and she showed us one of the bodyguard +of the Count Amenmeses, whose face was scratched as though by a woman’s +nails. On being questioned he said he could remember little of the matter, but +confessed that he had seen the maiden by the canal at moonrise and jested with +her. +</p> + +<p> +The kin of this girl clamoured that he should be killed, because he had offered +insult to a high-born lady of Israel. This Seti refused, saying that the +offence was not one of death, but that he would order him to be publicly +beaten. Thereupon Amenmeses, who was fond of the soldier, a good man enough +when not in his cups, sprang up in a rage, saying that no servant of his should +be touched because he had offered to caress some light Israelitish woman who +had no business to be wandering about alone at night. He added that if the man +were flogged he and all those under his command would leave the camp and march +back to make report to Pharaoh. +</p> + +<p> +Now the Prince, having consulted with the councillors, told the woman and her +kin that as Pharaoh had been appealed to, he must judge of the matter, and +commanded them to appear at his court within a month and state their case +against the soldier. They went away very ill-satisfied, saying that Amenmeses +had insulted their daughter even more than his servant had done. The end of +this matter was that on the following night this soldier was discovered dead, +pierced through and through with knife thrusts. The girl, her parents and +brethren could not be found, having fled away into the desert, nor was there +any evidence to show by whom the soldier had been murdered. Therefore nothing +could be done in the business except bury the victim. +</p> + +<p> +On the following morning the Inquiry began with due ceremony, the Prince Seti +and the Count Amenmeses taking their seats at the head of a large pavilion with +the councillors behind them and the scribes, among whom I was, seated at their +feet. Then we learned that the two prophets whom I had seen at Pharaoh’s +court were not in the land of Goshen, having left before we arrived “to +sacrifice to God in the wilderness,” nor did any know when they would +return. Other elders and priests, however, appeared and began to set out their +case, which they did at great length and in a fierce and turbulent fashion, +speaking often all of them at once, thus making it difficult for the +interpreters to render their words, since they pretended that they did not know +the Egyptian tongue. +</p> + +<p> +Moreover they told their story from the very beginning, when they had entered +Egypt hundreds of years before and were succoured by the vizier of the Pharaoh +of that day, one Yusuf, a powerful and clever man of their race who stored corn +in a time of famine and low Niles. This Pharaoh was of the Hyksos people, one +of the Shepherd kings whom we Egyptians hated and after many wars drove out of +Khem. Under these Shepherd kings, being joined by many of their own blood, the +Israelites grew rich and powerful, so that the Pharaohs who came after and who +loved them not, began to fear them. +</p> + +<p> +This was as far as the story was taken on the first day. +</p> + +<p> +On the second day began the tale of their oppression, under which, however, +they still multiplied like gnats upon the Nile, and grew so strong and numerous +that at length the great Rameses did a wicked thing, ordering that their male +children should be put to death. This order was never carried out, because his +daughter, she who found Moses among the reeds of the river, pleaded for them. +</p> + +<p> +At this point the Prince, wearied with the noise and heat in that crowded +place, broke off the sitting until the morrow. Commanding me to accompany him, +he ordered a chariot, not his own, to be made ready, and, although I prayed him +not to do so, set out unguarded save for myself and the charioteer, saying that +he would see how these people laboured with his own eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Taking a Hebrew lad to run before the horses as our guide, we drove to the +banks of a canal where the Israelites made bricks of mud which, after drying in +the sun, were laden into boats that waited for them on the canal and taken away +to other parts of Egypt to be used on Pharaoh’s works. Thousands of men +were engaged upon this labour, toiling in gangs under the command of Egyptian +overseers who kept count of the bricks, cutting their number upon tally sticks, +or sometimes writing them upon sherds. These overseers were brutal fellows, for +the most part of the low class, who used vile language to the slaves. Nor were +they content with words. Noting a crowd gathered at one place and hearing +cries, we went to see what passed. Here we found a lad stretched upon the +ground being cruelly beaten with hide whips, so that the blood ran down him. At +a sign from the Prince I asked what he had done and was told roughly, for the +overseers and their guards did not know who we were, that during the past six +days he had only made half of his allotted tale of bricks. +</p> + +<p> +“Loose him,” said the Prince quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“Who are you that give me orders?” asked the head overseer, who was +helping to hold the lad while the guards flogged him. “Begone, lest I +serve you as I serve this idle fellow.” +</p> + +<p> +Seti looked at him, and as he looked his lips turned white. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell him,” he said to me. +</p> + +<p> +“You dog!” I gasped. “Do you know who it is to whom you dare +to speak thus?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, nor care. Lay on, guard.” +</p> + +<p> +The Prince, whose robes were hidden by a wide-sleeved cloak of common stuff and +make, threw the cloak open revealing beneath it the pectoral he had worn in the +Court, a beautiful thing of gold whereon were inscribed his royal names and +titles in black and red enamel. Also he held up his right hand on which was a +signet of Pharaoh’s that he wore as his commissioner. The men stared, +then one of them who was more learned than the rest cried: +</p> + +<p> +“By the gods! this is his Highness the Prince of Egypt!” at which +words all of them fell upon their faces. +</p> + +<p> +“Rise,” said Seti to the lad who looked at him, forgetting his pain +in his wonderment, “and tell me why you have not delivered your tale of +bricks.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir,” sobbed the boy in bad Egyptian, “for two reasons. +First, because I am a cripple, see,” and he held up his left arm which +was withered and thin as a mummy’s, “and therefore cannot work +quickly. Secondly, because my mother, whose only child I am, is a widow and +lies sick in bed, so that there are no women or children in our home who can go +out to gather straw for me, as Pharaoh has commanded that we should do. +Therefore I must spend many hours in searching for straw, since I have no means +wherewith to pay others to do this for me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ana,” said the Prince, “write down this youth’s name +with the place of his abode, and if his tale prove true, see that his wants and +those of his mother are relieved before we depart from Goshen. Write down also +the names of this overseer and his fellows and command them to report +themselves at my camp to-morrow at sunrise, when their case shall be +considered. Say to the lad also that, being one afflicted by the gods, Pharaoh +frees him from the making of bricks and all other labour of the State.” +</p> + +<p> +Now while I did these things the overseer and his companions beat their heads +upon the ground and prayed for mercy, being cowards as the cruel always are. +His Highness answered them never a word, but only looked at them with cold +eyes, and I noted that his face which was so kind had grown terrible. So those +men thought also, for that night they ran away to Syria, leaving their families +and all their goods behind them, nor were they ever seen again in Egypt. +</p> + +<p> +When I had finished writing the Prince turned and, walking to where the chariot +waited, bade the driver cross the canal by a bridge there was here. We drove on +a while in silence, following a track which ran between the cultivated land and +the desert. At length I pointed to the sinking sun and asked if it were not +time to return. +</p> + +<p> +“Why?” replied the Prince. “The sun dies, but there rises the +full moon to give us light, and what have we to fear with swords at our sides +and her Highness Userti’s mail beneath our robes? Oh! Ana, I am weary of +men with their cruelties and shouts and strugglings, and I find this wilderness +a place of rest, for in it I seem to draw nearer to my own soul and the Heaven +whence it came, or so I hope.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your Highness is fortunate to have a soul to which he cares to draw +near; it is not so with all of us;” I answered laughing, for I sought to +change the current of his thoughts by provoking argument of a sort that he +loved. +</p> + +<p> +Just then, however, the horses, which were not of the best, came to a halt on a +slope of heavy sand. Nor would Seti allow the driver to flog them, but +commanded him to let them rest a space. While they did so we descended from the +chariot and walked up the desert rise, he leaning on my arm. As we reached its +crest we heard sobs and a soft voice speaking on the further side. Who it was +that spoke and sobbed we could not see, because of a line of tamarisk shrubs +which once had been a fence. +</p> + +<p> +“More cruelty, or at least more sorrow,” whispered Seti. “Let +us look.” +</p> + +<p> +So we crept to the tamarisks, and peeping through their feathery tops, saw a +very sweet sight in the pure rays of that desert moon. There, not five paces +away, stood a woman clad in white, young and shapely in form. Her face we could +not see because it was turned from us, also the long dark hair which streamed +about her shoulders hid it. She was praying aloud, speaking now in Hebrew, of +which both of us knew something, and now in Egyptian, as does one who is +accustomed to think in either tongue, and stopping from time to time to sob. +</p> + +<p> +“O God of my people,” she said, “send me succour and bring me +safe home, that Thy child may not be left alone in the wilderness to become the +prey of wild beasts, or of men who are worse than beasts.” +</p> + +<p> +Then she sobbed, knelt down on a great bundle which I saw was stubble straw, +and again began to pray. This time it was in Egyptian, as though she feared +lest the Hebrew should be overheard and understood. +</p> + +<p> +“O God,” she said, “O God of my fathers, help my poor heart, +help my poor heart!” +</p> + +<p> +We were about to withdraw, or rather to ask her what she ailed, when suddenly +she turned her head, so that the light fell full upon her face. So lovely was +it that I caught my breath and the Prince at my side started. Indeed it was +more than lovely, for as a lamp shines through an alabaster vase or a shell of +pearl so did the spirit within this woman shine through her tear-stained face, +making it mysterious as the night. Then I understood, perhaps for the first +time, that it is the spirit which gives true beauty both to maid and man and +not the flesh. The white vase of alabaster, however shapely, is still a vase +alone; it is the hidden lamp within that graces it with the glory of a star. +And those eyes, those large, dreaming eyes aswim with tears and hued like +richest lapis-lazuli, oh! what man could look on them and not be stirred? +</p> + +<p> +“Merapi!” I whispered. +</p> + +<p> +“Moon of Israel!” murmured Seti, “filled with the moon, +lovely as the moon, mystic as the moon and worshipping the moon, her +mother.” +</p> + +<p> +“She is in trouble; let us help her,” I said. +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, wait a while, Ana, for never again shall you and I see such a sight +as this.” +</p> + +<p> +Low as we spoke beneath our breath, I think the lady heard us. At least her +face changed and grew frightened. Hastily she rose, lifted the great bundle of +straw upon which she had been kneeling and placed it on her head. She ran a few +steps, then stumbled and sank down with a little moan of pain. In an instant we +were at her side. She stared at us affrighted, for who we were she could not +see because of the wide hoods of our common cloaks that made us look like +midnight thieves, or slave-dealing Bedouin. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! Sirs,” she babbled, “harm me not. I have nothing of +value on me save this amulet.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who are you and what do you here?” asked the Prince disguising his +voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Sirs, I am Merapi, the daughter of Nathan the Levite, he whom the +accursed Egyptian captain, Khuaka, murdered at Tanis.” +</p> + +<p> +“How do you dare to call the Egyptians accursed?” asked Seti in +tones made gruff to hide his laughter. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! Sirs, because they are—I mean because I thought you were Arabs +who hate them, as we do. At least this Egyptian was accursed, for the high +Prince Seti, Pharaoh’s heir, caused him to be beheaded for that +crime.” +</p> + +<p> +“And do you hate the high Prince Seti, Pharaoh’s heir, and call him +accursed?” +</p> + +<p> +She hesitated, then in a doubtful voice said: +</p> + +<p> +“No, I do not hate him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not, seeing that you hate the Egyptians of whom he is one of the +first and therefore twice worthy of hatred, being the son of your oppressor, +Pharaoh?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because, although I have tried my best, I cannot. Also,” she added +with the joy of one who has found a good reason, “he avenged my +father.” +</p> + +<p> +“This is no cause, girl, seeing that he only did what the law forced him +to do. They say that this dog of a Pharaoh’s son is here in Goshen upon +some mission. Is it true, and have you seen him? Answer, for we of the desert +folk desire to know.” +</p> + +<p> +“I believe it is true, Sir, but I have not seen him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not, if he is here?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because I do not wish to, Sir. Why should a daughter of Israel desire to +look upon the face of a prince of Egypt?” +</p> + +<p> +“In truth I do not know,” replied Seti forgetting his feigned +voice. Then, seeing that she glanced at him sharply, he added in gruff tones: +</p> + +<p> +“Brother, either this woman lies or she is none other than the maid they +call Moon of Israel who dwells with old Jabez the Levite, her uncle. What think +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think, Brother, that she lies, and for three reasons,” I +answered, falling into the jest. “First, she is too fair to be of the +black Hebrew blood.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! Sir,” moaned Merapi, “my mother was a Syrian lady of the +mountains, with a skin as white as milk, and eyes blue as the heavens.” +</p> + +<p> +“Secondly,” I went on without heeding her, “if the great +Prince Seti is really in Goshen and she dwells there, it is unnatural that she +should not have gone to look upon him. Being a woman only two things would have +kept her away, one—that she feared and hated him, which she denies, and +the other—that she liked him too well, and, being prudent, thought it +wisest not to look upon him more.” +</p> + +<p> +When she heard the first of these words, Merapi glanced up with her lips parted +as though to answer. Instead, she dropped her eyes and suddenly seemed to +choke, while even in the moonlight I saw the red blood pour to her brow and +along her white arms. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir,” she gasped, “why should you affront me? I swear that +never till this moment did I think such a thing. Surely it would be +treason.” +</p> + +<p> +“Without doubt,” interrupted Seti, “yet one of a sort that +kings might pardon.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thirdly,” I went on as though I had heard neither of them, +“if this girl were what she declares, she would not be wandering alone in +the desert at night, seeing that I have heard among the Arabs that Merapi, +daughter of Nathan the Levite, is a lady of no mean blood among the Hebrews and +that her family has wealth. Still, however much she lies, we can see for +ourselves that she is beautiful.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Brother, in that we are fortunate, since without doubt she will +sell for a high price among the slave traders beyond the desert.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! Sir,” cried Merapi seizing the hem of his robe, “surely +you who I feel, I know not why, are no evil thief, you who have a mother and, +perchance, sisters, would not doom a maiden to such a fate. Misjudge me not +because I am alone. Pharaoh has commanded that we must find straw for the +making of bricks. This morning I came far to search for it on behalf of a +neighbour whose wife is ill in childbed. But towards sundown I slipped and cut +myself upon the edge of a sharp stone. See,” and holding up her foot she +showed a wound beneath the instep from which the blood still dropped, a sight +that moved both of us not a little, “and now I cannot walk and carry this +heavy straw which I have been at such pains to gather.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perchance she speaks truth, Brother,” said the Prince, “and +if we took her home we might earn no small reward from Jabez the Levite. But +first tell me, Maiden, what was that prayer which you made to the moon, that +Hathor should help your heart?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir,” she answered, “only the idolatrous Egyptians pray to +Hathor, the Lady of Love.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought that all the world prayed to the Lady of Love, Maiden. But +what of the prayer? Is there some man whom you desire?” +</p> + +<p> +“None,” she answered angrily. +</p> + +<p> +“Then why does your heart need so much help that you ask it of the air? +Is there perchance someone whom you do <i>not</i> desire?” +</p> + +<p> +She hung her head and made no answer. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, Brother,” said the Prince, “this lady is weary of us, +and I think that if she were a true woman she would answer our questions more +readily. Let us go and leave her. As she cannot walk we can take her later if +we wish.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sirs,” she said, “I am glad that you are going, since the +hyenas will be safer company than two men who can threaten to sell a helpless +woman into slavery. Yet as we part to meet no more I will answer your question. +In the prayer to which you were not ashamed to listen I did not pray for any +lover, I prayed to be rid of one.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Ana,” said the Prince bursting into laughter and throwing +back his dark cloak, “do you discover the name of that unhappy man of +whom the lady Merapi wishes to be rid, for I dare not.” +</p> + +<p> +She gazed into his face and uttered a little cry. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” she said, “I thought I knew the voice again when once +you forget your part. Prince Seti, does your Highness think that this was a +kind jest to practise upon one alone and in fear?” +</p> + +<p> +“Lady Merapi,” he answered smiling, “be not wroth, for at +least it was a good one and you have told us nothing that we did not know. You +may remember that at Tanis you said that you were affianced and there was that +in your voice——. Suffer me now to tend this wound of yours.” +</p> + +<p> +Then he knelt down, tore a strip from his ceremonial robe of fine linen, and +began to bind up her foot, not unskilfully, being a man full of strange and +unexpected knowledge. As he worked at the task, watching them, I saw their eyes +meet, saw too that rich flood of colour creep once more to Merapi’s brow. +Then I began to think it unseemly that the Prince of Egypt should play the +leech to a woman’s hurts, and to wonder why he had not left that humble +task to me. +</p> + +<p> +Presently the bandaging was done and made fast with a royal scarabæus mounted +on a pin of gold, which the Prince wore in his garments. On it was cut the +uræus crown and beneath it were the signs which read “Lord of the Lower +and the Upper Land,” being Pharaoh’s style and title. +</p> + +<p> +“See now, Lady,” he said, “you have Egypt beneath your +foot,” and when she asked him what he meant, he read her the writing upon +the jewel, whereat for the third time she coloured to the eyes. Then he lifted +her up, instructing her to rest her weight upon his shoulder, saying he feared +lest the scarab, which he valued, should be broken. +</p> + +<p> +Thus we started, I bearing the bundle of straw behind as he bade me, since, he +said, having been gathered with such toil, it must not be lost. On reaching the +chariot, where we found the guide gone and the driver asleep, he sat her in it +upon his cloak, and wrapped her in mine which he borrowed, saying I should not +need it who must carry the straw. Then he mounted also and they drove away at a +foot’s pace. As I walked after the chariot with the straw that fell about +my ears, I heard nothing of their further talk, if indeed they talked at all +which, the driver being present, perhaps they did not. Nor in truth did I +listen who was engaged in thought as to the hard lot of these poor Hebrews, who +must collect this dirty stuff and bear it so far, made heavy as it was by the +clay that clung about the roots. +</p> + +<p> +Even now, as it chanced, we did not reach Goshen without further trouble. Just +as we had crossed the bridge over the canal I, toiling behind, saw in the clear +moonlight a young man running towards us. He was a Hebrew, tall, well-made and +very handsome in his fashion. His eyes were dark and fierce, his nose was +hooked, his teeth were regular and white, and his long, black hair hung down in +a mass upon his shoulders. He held a wooden staff in his hand and a naked knife +was girded about his middle. Seeing the chariot he halted and peered at it, +then asked in Hebrew if those who travelled had seen aught of a young +Israelitish lady who was lost. +</p> + +<p> +“If you seek me, Laban, I am here,” replied Merapi, speaking from +the shadow of the cloak. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you there alone with an Egyptian, Merapi?” he said +fiercely. +</p> + +<p> +What followed I do not know for they spoke so quickly in their unfamiliar +tongue that I could not understand them. At length Merapi turned to the Prince, +saying: +</p> + +<p> +“Lord, this is Laban my affianced, who commands me to descend from the +chariot and accompany him as best I can.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I, Lady, command you to stay in it. Laban your affianced can +accompany us.” +</p> + +<p> +Now at this Laban grew angry, as I could see he was prone to do, and stretched +out his hand as though to push Seti aside and seize Merapi. +</p> + +<p> +“Have a care, man,’ said the Prince, while I, throwing down the +straw, drew my sword and sprang between them, crying: +</p> + +<p> +“Slave, would you lay hands upon the Prince of Egypt?” +</p> + +<p> +“Prince of Egypt!” he said, drawing back astonished, then added +sullenly, “Well what does the Prince of Egypt with my affianced?” +</p> + +<p> +“He helps her who is hurt to her home, having found her helpless in the +desert with this accursed straw,” I answered. +</p> + +<p> +“Forward, driver,” said the Prince, and Merapi added, “Peace, +Laban, and bear the straw which his Highness’s companion has carried such +a weary way.” +</p> + +<p> +He hesitated a moment, then snatched up the bundle and set it on his head. +</p> + +<p> +As we walked side by side, his evil temper seemed to get the better of him. +Without ceasing, he grumbled because Merapi was alone in the chariot with an +Egyptian. At length I could bear it no longer. +</p> + +<p> +“Be silent, fellow,” I said. “Least of all men should you +complain of what his Highness does, seeing that already he has avenged the +killing of this lady’s father, and now has saved her from lying out all +night among the wild beasts and men of the wilderness.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of the first I have heard more than enough,” he answered, +“and of the second doubtless I shall hear more than enough also. Ever +since my affianced met this prince, she has looked on me with different eyes +and spoken to me with another voice. Yes, and when I press for marriage, she +says it cannot be for a long while yet, because she is mourning for her father; +her father forsooth, whom she never forgave because he betrothed her to me +according to the custom of our people.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps she loves some other man?” I queried, wishing to learn all +I could about this lady. +</p> + +<p> +“She loves no man, or did not a while ago. She loves herself alone.” +</p> + +<p> +“One with so much beauty may look high in marriage.” +</p> + +<p> +“High!” he replied furiously. “How can she look higher than +myself who am a lord of the line of Judah, and therefore greater far than an +upstart prince or any other Egyptian, were he Pharaoh himself?” +</p> + +<p> +“Surely you must be trumpeter to your tribe,” I mocked, for my +temper was rising. +</p> + +<p> +“Why?” he asked. “Are not the Hebrews greater than the +Egyptians, as those oppressors soon shall learn, and is not a lord of Israel +more than any idol-worshipper among your people?” +</p> + +<p> +I looked at the man clad in mean garments and foul from his labour in the +brickfield, marvelling at his insolence. There was no doubt but that he +believed what he said; I could see it in his proud eye and bearing. He thought +that his tribe was of more import in the world than our great and ancient +nation, and that he, an unknown youth, equalled or surpassed Pharaoh himself. +Then, being enraged by these insults, I answered: +</p> + +<p> +“You say so, but let us put it to the proof. I am but a scribe, yet I +have seen war. Linger a little that we may learn whether a lord of Israel is +better than a scribe of Egypt.” +</p> + +<p> +“Gladly would I chastise you, Writer,” he answered, “did I +not see your plot. You wish to delay me here, and perhaps to murder me by some +foul means, while your master basks in the smiles of the Moon of Israel. +Therefore I will not stay, but another time it shall be as you wish, and +perhaps ere long.” +</p> + +<p> +Now I think that I should have struck him in the face, though I am not one of +those who love brawling. But at this moment there appeared a company of +Egyptian horse led by none other than the Count Amenmeses. Seeing the Prince in +the Chariot, they halted and gave the salute. Amenmeses leapt to the ground. +</p> + +<p> +“We are come out to search for your Highness,” he said, +“fearing lest some hurt had befallen you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thank you, Cousin,” answered the Prince, “but the hurt has +befallen another, not me.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is well, your Highness,” said the Count, studying Merapi with +a smile. “Where is the lady wounded? Not in the breast, I trust.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, Cousin, in the foot, which is why she travels with me in this +chariot.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your Highness was ever kind to the unfortunate. I pray you let me take +your place, or suffer me to set this girl upon a horse.” +</p> + +<p> +“Drive on,” said Seti. +</p> + +<p> +So, escorted by the soldiers, whom I heard making jests to each other about the +Prince and the lady, as I think did the Hebrew Laban also, for he glared about +him and ground his teeth, we came at last to the town. Here, guided by Merapi, +the chariot was halted at the house of Jabez her uncle, a white-bearded old +Hebrew with a cunning eye, who rushed from the door of his mud-roofed dwelling +crying he had done no harm that soldiers should come to take him. +</p> + +<p> +“It is not you whom the Egyptians wish to capture, it is your niece and +my betrothed,” shouted Laban, whereat the soldiers laughed, as did some +women who had gathered round. Meanwhile the Prince was helping Merapi to +descend out of the chariot, from which indeed he lifted her. The sight seemed +to madden Laban, who rushed forward to tear her from his arms, and in the +attempt jostled his Highness. The captain of the soldiers—he was an +officer of Pharaoh’s bodyguard—lifted his sword in a fury and +struck Laban such a blow upon the head with the flat of the blade that he fell +upon his face and lay there groaning. +</p> + +<p> +“Away with that Hebrew dog and scourge him!” cried the captain. +“Is the royal blood of Egypt to be handled by such as he?” +</p> + +<p> +Soldiers sprang forward to do his bidding, but Seti said quietly: +</p> + +<p> +“Let the fellow be, friends; he lacks manners, that is all. Is he +hurt?” +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke Laban leapt to his feet and, fearing worse things, fled away with a +curse and a glare of hate at the Prince. +</p> + +<p> +“Farewell, Lady,” said Seti. “I wish you a quick +recovery.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thank your Highness,” she answered, looking about her +confusedly. “Be pleased to wait a little while that I may return to you +your jewel.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, keep it, Lady, and if ever you are in need or trouble of any sort, +send it to me who know it well and you shall not lack succour.” +</p> + +<p> +She glanced at him and burst into tears. +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you weep?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! your Highness, because I fear that trouble is near at hand. My +affianced, Laban, has a revengeful heart. Help me to the house, my uncle.” +</p> + +<p> +“Listen, Hebrew,” said Seti, raising his voice; “if aught +that is evil befalls this niece of yours, or if she is forced to walk whither +she would not go, sorrow shall be your portion and that of all with whom you +have to do. Do you hear?” +</p> + +<p> +“O my Lord, I hear, I hear. Fear nothing. She shall be guarded carefully +as—as she will doubtless guard that trinket on her foot.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“Ana,” said the Prince to me that night, when I was talking with +him before he went to rest, “I know not why, but I fear that man Laban; +he has an evil eye.” +</p> + +<p> +“I too think it would have been better if your Highness had left him to +be dealt with by the soldiers, after which there would have been nothing to +fear from him in this world.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I did not, so there’s an end. Ana, she is a fair woman and a +sweet.” +</p> + +<p> +“The fairest and the sweetest that ever I saw, my Prince.” +</p> + +<p> +“Be careful, Ana. I pray you be careful, lest you should fall in love +with one who is already affianced.” +</p> + +<p> +I only looked at him in answer, and as I looked I bethought me of the words of +Ki the Magician. So, I think, did the Prince; at least he laughed not unhappily +and turned away. +</p> + +<p> +For my part I rested ill that night, and when at last I slept, it was to dream +of Merapi making her prayer in the rays of the moon. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap07"></a>CHAPTER VII.<br /> +THE AMBUSH</h2> + +<p> +Eight full days went by before we left the land of Goshen. The story that the +Israelites had to tell was long, sad also. Moreover, they gave evidence as to +many cruel things that they had suffered, and when this was finished the +testimony of the guards and others must be called, all of which it was +necessary to write down. Lastly, the Prince seemed to be in no hurry to be +gone, as he said because he hoped that the two prophets would return from the +wilderness, which they never did. During all this time Seti saw no more of +Merapi, nor indeed did he speak of her, even when the Count Amenmeses jested +him as to his chariot companion and asked him if he had driven again in the +desert by moonlight. +</p> + +<p> +I, however, saw her once. When I was wandering in the town one day towards +sunset, I met her walking with her uncle Jabez upon one side and her lover, +Laban, on the other, like a prisoner between two guards. I thought she looked +unhappy, but her foot seemed to be well again; at least she moved without +limping. +</p> + +<p> +I stopped to salute her, but Laban scowled and hurried her away. Jabez stayed +behind and fell into talk with me. He told me that she was recovered of her +hurt, but that there had been trouble between her and Laban because of all that +happened on that evening when she came by it, ending in his encounter with the +captain. +</p> + +<p> +“This young man seems to be of a jealous nature,” I said, +“one who will make a harsh husband for any woman.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, learned scribe, jealousy has been his curse from youth as it is +with so many of our people, and I thank God that I am not the woman whom he is +to marry.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, then, do you suffer her to marry him, Jabez?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because her father affianced her to this lion’s whelp when she was +scarce more than a child, and among us that is a bond hard to break. For my own +part,” he added, dropping his voice, and glancing round with shifting +eyes, “I should like to see my niece in some different place to that of +the wife of Laban. With her great beauty and wit, she might become +anything—anything if she had opportunity. But under our laws, even if +Laban died, as might happen to so violent a man, she could wed no one who is +not a Hebrew.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought she told us that her mother was a Syrian.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is so, Scribe Ana. She was a beautiful captive of war whom Nathan +came to love and made his wife, and the daughter takes after her. Still she is +Hebrew and of the Hebrew faith and congregation. Had it not been so, she might +have shone like a star, nay, like the very moon after which she is named, +perhaps in the court of Pharaoh himself.” +</p> + +<p> +“As the great queen Taia did, she who changed the religion of Egypt to +the worship of one god in a bygone generation,” I suggested. +</p> + +<p> +“I have heard of her, Scribe Ana. She was a wondrous woman, beautiful too +by her statues. Would that you Egyptians could find such another to turn your +hearts to a purer faith and to soften them towards us poor aliens. When does +his Highness leave the land of Goshen?” +</p> + +<p> +“At sunrise on the third day from this.” +</p> + +<p> +“Provision will be needed for the journey, much provision for so large a +train. I deal in sheep and other foodstuffs, Scribe Ana.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will mention the matter to his Highness and to the Vizier, +Jabez.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thank you, Scribe, and will be in waiting at the camp to-morrow +morning. See, Laban returns with Merapi. One word, let his Highness beware of +Laban. He is very revengeful and has not forgotten that sword-blow on the +head.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let Laban be careful,” I answered. “Had it not been for his +Highness the soldiers would have killed him the other night because he dared to +offer affront to the royal blood. A second time he will not escape. Moreover, +Pharaoh would avenge aught he did upon the people of Israel.” +</p> + +<p> +“I understand. It would be sad if Laban were killed, very sad. But the +people of Israel have One who can protect them even against Pharaoh and all his +hosts. Farewell, learned Scribe. If ever I come to Tanis, with your leave we +will talk more together.” +</p> + +<p> +That night I told the Prince all that had passed. He listened, and said: +</p> + +<p> +“I grieve for the lady Merapi, for hers is like to be a hard fate. +Yet,” he added laughing, “perhaps it is as well for you, friend, +that you should see no more of her who is sure to bring trouble wherever she +goes. That woman has a face which haunts the mind, as the Ka haunts the tomb, +and for my part I do not wish to look upon it again.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am glad to hear it, Prince, and for my part, I have done with women, +however sweet. I will tell this Jabez that the provisions for the journey will +be bought elsewhere.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, buy them from him, and if Nehesi grumbles at the price, pay it on +my account. The way to a Hebrew’s heart is through his treasure bags. If +Jabez is well treated, it may make him kinder to his niece, of whom I shall +always have a pleasant memory, for which I am grateful among this sour folk who +hate us, and with reason.” +</p> + +<p> +So the sheep and all the foodstuffs for the journey were bought from Jabez at +his own price, for which he thanked me much, and on the third day we started. +At the last moment the Prince, whose mood seemed to be perverse that evening, +refused to travel with the host upon the morrow because of the noise and dust. +In vain did the Count Amenmeses reason with him, and Nehesi and the great +officers implore him almost on their knees, saying that they must answer for +his safety to Pharaoh and the Princess Userti. He bade them begone, replying +that he would join them at their camp on the following night. I also prayed him +to listen, but he told me sharply that what he said he had said, and that he +and I would journey in his chariot alone, with two armed runners and no more, +adding that if I thought there was danger I could go forward with the troops. +Then I bit my lip and was silent, whereon, seeing that he had hurt me, he +turned and craved my pardon humbly enough as his kind heart taught him to do. +</p> + +<p> +“I can bear no more of Amenmeses and those officers,” he said, +“and I love to be in the desert alone. Last time we journeyed there we +met with adventures that were pleasant, Ana, and at Tanis doubtless I shall +find others that are not pleasant. Admit that Hebrew priest who is waiting to +instruct me in the mysteries of his faith which I desire to understand.” +</p> + +<p> +So I bowed and left him to make report that I had failed to shake his will. +Taking the risk of his wrath, however, I did this—for had I not sworn to +the Princess that I would protect him? In place of the runners I chose two of +the best and bravest soldiers to play their part. Moreover, I instructed that +captain who smote down Laban to hide away with a score of picked men and enough +chariots to carry them, and to follow after the Prince, keeping just out of +sight. +</p> + +<p> +So on the morrow the troops, nobles, and officers went on at daybreak, together +with the baggage carriers; nor did we follow them till many hours had gone by. +Some of this time the Prince spent in driving about the town, taking note of +the condition of the people. These, as I saw, looked on us sullenly enough, +more so than before, I thought, perhaps because we were unguarded. Indeed, +turning round I caught sight of a man shaking his fist and of an old hag +spitting after us, and wished that we were out of the land of Goshen. But when +I reported it to the Prince he only laughed and took no heed. +</p> + +<p> +“All can see that they hate us Egyptians,” he said. “Well, +let it be our task to try to turn their hate to love.” +</p> + +<p> +“That you will never do, Prince, it is too deep-rooted in their hearts; +for generations they have drunk it in with their mother’s milk. Moreover, +this is a war of the gods of Egypt and of Israel, and men must go where their +gods drive them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think so, Ana? Then are men nothing but dust blown by the winds +of heaven, blown from the darkness that is before the dawn to be gathered at +last and for ever into the darkness of the grave of night?” +</p> + +<p> +He brooded a while, then went on. +</p> + +<p> +“Yet if I were Pharaoh I would let these people go, for without doubt +their god has much power and I tell you that I fear them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why will he not let them go?” I asked. “They are a weakness, +not a strength to Egypt, as was shown at the time of the invasion of the +Barbarians with whom they sided. Moreover, the value of this rich land of +theirs, which they cannot take with them, is greater than that of all their +labour.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know, friend. The matter is one upon which my father keeps his +own counsel, even from the Princess Userti. Perhaps it is because he will not +change the policy of his father, Rameses; perhaps because he is stiff-necked to +those who cross his will. Or it may be that he is held in this path by a +madness sent of some god to bring loss and shame on Egypt.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then, Prince, all the priests and nobles are mad also, from Count +Amenmeses down.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where Pharaoh leads priests and nobles follow. The question is, who +leads Pharaoh? Here is the temple of these Hebrews; let us enter.” +</p> + +<p> +So we descended from the chariot, where, for my part, I would have remained, +and walked through the gateway in the surrounding mud wall into the outer court +of the temple, which on this the holy seventh day of the Hebrews was full of +praying women, who feigned not to see us yet watched us out of the corners of +their eyes. Passing through them we came to a doorway, by which we entered +another court that was roofed over. Here were many men who murmured as we +appeared. They were engaged in listening to a preacher in a white robe, who +wore a strange shaped cap and some ornaments on his breast. I knew the man; he +was the priest Kohath who had instructed the Prince in so much of the mysteries +of the Hebrew faith as he chose to reveal. On seeing us he ceased suddenly in +his discourse, uttered some hasty blessing and advanced to greet us. +</p> + +<p> +I waited behind the Prince, thinking it well to watch his back among all those +fierce men, and did not hear what the priest said to him, as he whispered in +that holy place. Kohath led him forward, to free him from the throng, I +thought, till they came to the head of the little temple that was marked by +some steps, above which hung a thick and heavy curtain. The Prince, walking on, +did not see the lowest of these steps in the gloom, which was deep. His foot +caught on it; he fell forward, and to save himself grasped at the curtain where +the two halves of it met, and dragged it open, revealing a chamber plain and +small beyond, in which was an altar. That was all I had time to see, for next +instant a roar of rage rent the air and knives flashed in the gloom. +</p> + +<p> +“The Egyptian defiles the tabernacle!” shouted one. “Drag him +out and kill him!” screamed another. +</p> + +<p> +“Friends,” said Seti, turning as they surged towards him, “if +I have done aught wrong it was by chance——” +</p> + +<p> +He could add no more, seeing that they were on him, or rather on me who had +leapt in front of him. Already they had grasped my robes and my hand was on my +sword-hilt, when the priest Kohath cried out: +</p> + +<p> +“Men of Israel, are you mad? Would you bring Pharaoh’s vengeance on +us?” +</p> + +<p> +They halted a little and their spokesman shouted: +</p> + +<p> +“We defy Pharaoh! Our God will protect us from Pharaoh. Drag him forth +and kill him beyond the wall!” +</p> + +<p> +Again they began to move, when a man, in whom I recognized Jabez, the uncle of +Merapi, called aloud: +</p> + +<p> +“Cease! If this Prince of Egypt has done insult to Jahveh by will and not +by chance, it is certain that he will avenge himself upon him. Shall men take +the judgment of God into their own hands? Stand back and wait awhile. If Jahveh +is affronted, the Egyptian will fall dead. If he does not fall dead, let him +pass hence unharmed, for such is Jahveh’s will. Stand back, I say, while +I count threescore.” +</p> + +<p> +They withdrew a space and slowly Jabez began to count. +</p> + +<p> +Although at that time I knew nothing of the power of the god of Israel, I will +say that I was filled with fear as one by one he counted, pausing at each ten. +The scene was very strange. There by the steps stood the Prince against the +background of the curtain, his arms folded and a little smile of wonder mixed +with contempt upon his face, but not a sign of fear. On one side of him was I, +who knew well that I should share his fate whatever it might be, and indeed +desired no other; and on the other the priest Kohath, whose hands shook and +whose eyes started from his head. In front of us old Jabez counted, watching +the fierce-faced congregation that in a dead silence waited for the issue. The +count went on. Thirty. Forty. Fifty—oh! it seemed an age. +</p> + +<p> +At length sixty fell from his lips. He waited a while and all watched the +Prince, not doubting but that he would fall dead. But instead he turned to +Kohath and asked quietly if this ordeal was now finished, as he desired to make +an offering to the temple, which he had been invited to visit, and begone. +</p> + +<p> +“Our God has given his answer,” said Jabez. “Accept it, men +of Israel. What this Prince did he did by chance, not of design.” +</p> + +<p> +They turned and went without a word, and after I had laid the offering, no mean +one, in the appointed place, we followed them. +</p> + +<p> +“It would seem that yours is no gentle god,” said the Prince to +Kohath, when at length we were outside the temple. +</p> + +<p> +“At least he is just, your Highness. Had it been otherwise, you who had +violated his sanctuary, although by chance, would ere now be dead.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you hold, Priest, that Jahveh has power to slay us when he is +angry?” +</p> + +<p> +“Without a doubt, your Highness—as, if our Prophets speak truth, I +think that Egypt will learn ere all be done,” he added grimly. +</p> + +<p> +Seti looked at him and answered: +</p> + +<p> +“It may be so, but all gods, or their priests, claim the power to torment +and slay those who worship other gods. It is not only women who are jealous, +Kohath, or so it seems. Yet I think that you do your god injustice, seeing that +even if this strength is his, he proved more merciful than his worshippers who +knew well that I only grasped the veil to save myself from falling. If ever I +visit your temple again it shall be in the company of those who can match might +against might, whether of the spirit or the sword. Farewell.” +</p> + +<p> +So we reached the chariot, near to which stood Jabez, he who had saved us. +</p> + +<p> +“Prince,” he whispered, glancing at the crowd who lingered not far +away, silent and glowering, “I pray you leave this land swiftly for here +your life is not safe. I know it was by chance, but you have defiled the +sanctuary and seen that upon which eyes may not look save those of the highest +priests, an offence no Israelite can forgive.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you, or your people, Jabez, would have defiled this sanctuary of my +life, spilling my heart’s blood and <i>not</i> by chance. Surely you are +a strange folk who seek to make an enemy of one who has tried to be your +friend.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not seek it,” exclaimed Jabez. “I would that we might +have Pharaoh’s mouth and ear who soon will himself be Pharaoh upon our +side. O Prince of Egypt, be not wroth with all the children of Israel because +their wrongs have made some few of them stubborn and hard-hearted. Begone now, +and of your goodness remember my words.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will remember,” said Seti, signing to the charioteer to drive on. +</p> + +<p> +Yet still the Prince lingered in the town, saying that he feared nothing and +would learn all he could of this people and their ways that he might report the +better of them to Pharaoh. For my part I believed that there was one face which +he wished to see again before he left, but of this I thought it wise to say +nothing. +</p> + +<p> +At length about midday we did depart, and drove eastwards on the track of +Amenmeses and our company. All the afternoon we drove thus, preceded by the two +soldiers disguised as runners and followed, as a distant cloud of dust told me, +by the captain and his chariots, whom I had secretly commanded to keep us in +sight. +</p> + +<p> +Towards evening we came to the pass in the stony hills which bounded the land +of Goshen. Here Seti descended from the chariot, and we climbed, accompanied by +the two soldiers whom I signed to follow us, to the crest of one of these hills +that was strewn with huge boulders and lined with ridges of sandstone, between +which gullies had been cut by the winds of thousands of years. +</p> + +<p> +Leaning against one of these ridges we looked back upon a wondrous sight. Far +away across the fertile plain appeared the town that we had left, and behind it +the sun sank. It would seem as though some storm had broken there, although the +firmament above us was clear and blue. At least in front of the town two huge +pillars of cloud stretched from earth to heaven like the columns of some mighty +gateway. One of these pillars was as though it were made of black marble, and +the other like to molten gold. Between them ran a road of light ending in a +glory, and in the midst of the glory the round ball of Ra, the Sun, burned like +the eye of God. The spectacle was as awesome as it was splendid. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you ever seen such a sky in Egypt, Prince?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Never,” he answered, and although he spoke low, in that great +stillness his voice sounded loud to me. +</p> + +<p> +For a while longer we watched, till suddenly the sun sank, and only the glory +about it and above remained, which took shapes like to the palaces and temples +of a city in the heavens, a far city that no mortal could reach except in +dreams. +</p> + +<p> +“I know not why, Ana,” said Seti, “but for the first time +since I was a man I feel afraid. It seems to me that there are omens in the sky +and I cannot read them. Would that Ki were here to tell us what is signified by +the pillar of blackness to the right and the pillar of fire to the left, and +what god has his home in the city of glory behind, and how man’s feet may +walk along the shining road which leads to its pylon gates. I tell you that I +am afraid; it is as though Death were very near to me and all his wonders open +to my mortal sight.” +</p> + +<p> +“I too am afraid,” I whispered. “Look! The pillars move. That +of fire goes before; that of black cloud follows after, and between them I seem +to see a countless multitude marching in unending companies. See how the light +glitters on their spears! Surely the god of the Hebrews is afoot.” +</p> + +<p> +“He, or some other god, or no god at all, who knows? Come, Ana, let us be +going if we would reach that camp ere dark.” +</p> + +<p> +So we descended from the ridge, and re-entering the chariot, drove on towards +the neck of the pass. Now this neck was very narrow, not more than four paces +wide for a certain distance, and, on either side of the roadway were tumbled +sandstone boulders, between which grew desert plants, and gullies that had been +cut by storm-water, while beyond these rose the sides of the mountain. Here the +horses went at a walk towards a turn in the path, at which point the land began +to fall again. +</p> + +<p> +When we were about half a spear’s throw from this turn of a sudden I +heard a sound and, glancing to the right, perceived a woman leaping down the +hillside towards us. The charioteer saw also and halted the horses, and the two +runner guards turned and drew their swords. In less than half a minute the +woman had reached us, coming out of the shadow so that the light fell upon her +face. +</p> + +<p> +“Merapi!” exclaimed the Prince and I, speaking as though with one +breath. +</p> + +<p> +Merapi it was indeed, but in evil case. Her long hair had broken loose and fell +about her, the cloak she wore was torn, and there were blood and foam upon her +lips. She stood gasping, since speak she could not for breathlessness, +supporting herself with one hand upon the side of the chariot and with the +other pointing to the bend in the road. At last a word came, one only. It was: +</p> + +<p> +“Murder!” +</p> + +<p> +“She means that she is going to be murdered,” said the Prince to me. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” she panted, “you—you! The Hebrews. Go back!” +</p> + +<p> +“Turn the horses!” I cried to the charioteer. +</p> + +<p> +He began to obey helped by the two guards, but because of the narrowness of the +road and the steepness of the banks this was not easy. Indeed they were but +half round in such fashion that they blocked the pathway from side to side, +when a wild yell of ‘Jahveh’ broke upon our ears, and from round +the bend, a few paces away, rushed a horde of fierce, hook-nosed men, +brandishing knives and swords. Scarcely was there time for us to leap behind +the shelter of the chariot and make ready, when they were on us. +</p> + +<p> +“Hearken,” I said to the charioteer as they came, “run as you +never ran before, and bring up the guard behind!” +</p> + +<p> +He sprang away like an arrow. +</p> + +<p> +“Get back, Lady,” cried Seti. “This is no woman’s work, +and see here comes Laban to seek you,” and he pointed with his sword at +the leader of the murderers. +</p> + +<p> +She obeyed, staggering a few paces to a stone at the roadside, behind which she +crouched. Afterwards she told me that she had no strength to go further, and +indeed no will, since if we were killed, it were better that she who had warned +us should be killed also. +</p> + +<p> +Now they had reached us, the whole flood of them, thirty or forty men. The +first who came stabbed the frightened horses, and down they went against the +bank, struggling. On the chariot leapt the Hebrews, seeking to come at us, and +we met them as best we might, tearing off our cloaks and throwing them over our +left arms to serve as shields. +</p> + +<p> +Oh! what a fight was that. In the open, or had we not been prepared, we must +have been slain at once, but, as it was, the place and the barrier of the +chariot gave us some advantage. So narrow was the roadway, the walls of which +were here too steep to climb, that not more than four of the Hebrews could +strike at us at once, which four must first surmount the chariot or the still +living horses. +</p> + +<p> +But we also were four, and thanks to Userti, two of us were clad in mail +beneath our robes—four strong men fighting for their lives. Against us +came four of the Hebrews. One leapt from the chariot straight at Seti, who +received him upon the point of his iron sword, whereof I heard the hilt ring +against his breast-bone, that same famous iron sword which to-day lies buried +with him in his grave. +</p> + +<p> +Down he came dead, throwing the Prince to the ground by the weight of his body. +The Hebrew who attacked me caught his foot on the chariot pole and fell +forward, so I killed him easily with a blow upon the head, which gave me time +to drag the Prince to his feet again before another followed. The two guards +also, sturdy fighters both of them, killed or mortally wounded their men. But +others were pressing behind so thick and fast that I could keep no count of all +that happened afterwards. +</p> + +<p> +Presently I saw one of the guards fall, slain by Laban. A stab on the breast +sent me reeling backwards; had it not been for that mail I was sped. The other +guard killed him who would have killed me, and then himself was killed by two +who came on him at once. +</p> + +<p> +Now only the Prince and I were left, fighting back to back. He closed with one +man, a very great fellow, and wounded him on the hand, so that he dropped his +sword. This man gripped him round the middle and they rolled together on the +ground. Laban appeared and stabbed the Prince in the back, but the curved knife +he was using snapped on the Syrian mail. I struck at Laban and wounded him on +the head, dazing him so that he staggered back and seemed to fall over the +chariot. Then others rushed at me, and but for Userti’s armour three +times at least I must have died. Fighting madly, I staggered against the rock, +and whilst waiting for a new onset, saw that Seti, hurt by Laban’s +thrust, was now beneath the great Hebrew who had him by the throat, and was +choking the life out of him. +</p> + +<p> +I saw something else also—a woman holding a sword with both hands and +stabbing downward, after which the grip of the Hebrew loosened from +Seti’s throat. +</p> + +<p> +“Traitress!” cried one, and struck at her, so that she reeled back +hurt. Then when all seemed finished, and beneath the rain of blows my senses +were failing, I heard the thunder of horses’ hoofs and the shout of +“<i>Egypt! Egypt!</i>” from the throats of soldiers. The flash of +bronze caught my dazed eyes, and with the roar of battle in my ears I seemed to +fall asleep just as the light of day departed. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap08"></a>CHAPTER VIII.<br /> +SETI COUNSELS PHARAOH</h2> + +<p> +Dream upon dream. Dreams of voices, dreams of faces, dreams of sunlight and of +moonlight and of myself being borne forward, always forward; dreams of shouting +crowds, and, above all, dreams of Merapi’s eyes looking down on me like +two watching stars from heaven. Then at last the awakening, and with it throbs +of pain and qualms of sickness. +</p> + +<p> +At first I thought that I was dead and lying in a tomb. Then by degrees I saw +that I was in no tomb but in a darkened room that was familiar to me, my own +room in Seti’s palace at Tanis. It must be so, for there, near to the bed +on which I lay, was my own chest filled with the manuscripts that I had brought +from Memphis. I tried to lift my left hand, but could not, and looking down saw +that the arm was bandaged like to that of a mummy, which made me think again +that I must be dead, if the dead could suffer so much pain. I closed my eyes +and thought or slept a while. +</p> + +<p> +As I lay thus I heard voices. One of them seemed to be that of a physician, who +said, “Yes, he will live and ere long recover. The blow upon the head +which has made him senseless for so many days was the worst of his wounds, but +the bone was but bruised, not shattered or driven in upon the brain. The flesh +cuts on his arms are healing well, and the mail he wore protected his vitals +from being pierced.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am glad, physician,” answered a voice that I knew to be that of +Userti, “since without a doubt, had it not been for Ana, his Highness +would have perished. It is strange that one whom I thought to be nothing but a +dreaming scribe should have shown himself so brave a warrior. The Prince says +that this Ana killed three of those dogs with his own hands, and wounded +others.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was well done, your Highness,” answered the physician, +“but still better was his forethought in providing a rear-guard and in +despatching the charioteer to call it up. It seems to have been the Hebrew lady +who really saved the life of his Highness, when, forgetting her sex, she +stabbed the murderer who had him by the throat.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is the Prince’s tale, or so I understand,” she answered +coldly. “Yet it seems strange that a weak and worn-out girl could have +pierced a giant through from back to breast.” +</p> + +<p> +“At least she warned him of the ambush, your Highness.” +</p> + +<p> +“So they say. Perhaps Ana here will soon tell us the truth about these +matters. Tend him well, physician, and you shall not lack for your +reward.” +</p> + +<p> +Then they went away, still talking, and I lay quiet, filled with thankfulness +and wonder, for now everything came back to me. +</p> + +<p> +A while later, as I lay with my eyes still shut, for even that low light seemed +to hurt them, I became aware of a woman’s soft step stealing round my bed +and of a fragrance such as comes from a woman’s robes and hair. I looked +and saw Merapi’s star-like eyes gazing down on me just as I had seen them +in my dreams. +</p> + +<p> +“Greeting, Moon of Israel,” I said. “Of a truth we meet again +in strange case.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” she whispered, “are you awake at last? I thank God, +Scribe Ana, who for three days thought that you must die.” +</p> + +<p> +“As, had it not been for you, Lady, surely I should have done—I and +another. Now it seems that all three of us will live.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would that but two lived, the Prince and you, Ana. Would that <i>I</i> +had died,” she answered, sighing heavily. +</p> + +<p> +“Why?” +</p> + +<p> +“Cannot you guess? Because I am an outcast who has betrayed my people. +Because their blood flows between me and them. For I killed that man, and he +was my own kinsman, for the sake of an Egyptian—I mean, Egyptians. +Therefore the curse of Jahveh is on me, and as my kinsman died doubtless I +shall die in a day to come, and afterwards—what?” +</p> + +<p> +“Afterwards peace and great reward, if there be justice in earth or +heaven, O most noble among women.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would that I could think so! Hush, I hear steps. Drink this; I am the +chief of your nurses, Scribe Ana, an honourable post, since to-day all Egypt +loves and praises you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Surely it is you, lady Merapi, whom all Egypt should love and +praise,” I answered. +</p> + +<p> +Then the Prince Seti entered. I strove to salute him by lifting my less injured +arm, but he caught my hand and pressed it tenderly. +</p> + +<p> +“Hail to you, beloved of Menthu, god of war,” he said, with his +pleasant laugh. “I thought I had hired a scribe, and lo! in this scribe I +find a soldier who might be an army’s boast.” +</p> + +<p> +At this moment he caught sight of Merapi, who had moved back into the shadow. +</p> + +<p> +“Hail to you also, Moon of Israel,” he said bowing. “If I +name Ana here a warrior of the best, what name can both of us find for you to +whom we owe our lives? Nay, look not down, but answer.” +</p> + +<p> +“Prince of Egypt,” she replied confusedly, “I did but little. +The plot came to my ears through Jabez my uncle, and I fled away and, knowing +the short paths from childhood, was just in time. Had I stayed to think +perchance I should not have dared.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what of the rest, Lady? What of the Hebrew who was choking me and of +a certain sword thrust that loosed his hands for ever?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of that, your Highness, I can recall nothing, or very little,” +then, doubtless remembering what she had just said to me, she made obeisance +and passed from the chamber. +</p> + +<p> +“She can tell falsehoods as sweetly as she does all else,” said +Seti, when he had watched her go. “Oh! what a woman have we here, Ana. +Perfect in beauty, perfect in courage, perfect in mind. Where are her faults, I +wonder? Let it be your part to search them out, since I find none.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ask them of Ki, O Prince. He is a very great magician, so great that +perhaps his art may even avail to discover what a woman seeks to hide. Also you +may remember that he gave you certain warnings before we journeyed to +Goshen.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—he told me that my life would be in danger, as certainly it +was. There he was right. He told me also that I should see a woman whom I +should come to love. There he was wrong. I have seen no such woman. Oh! I know +well what is passing in your mind. Because I hold the lady Merapi to be +beautiful and brave, you think that I love her. But it is not so. I love no +woman, except, of course, her Highness. Ana, you judge me by yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ki said ‘come to love,’ Prince. There is yet time.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not so, Ana. If one loves, one loves at once. Soon I shall be old and +she will be fat and ugly, and how can one love then? Get well quickly, Ana, for +I wish you to help me with my report to Pharaoh. I shall tell him that I think +these Israelites are much oppressed and that he should make them amends and let +them go.” +</p> + +<p> +“What will Pharaoh say to that after they have just tried to kill his +heir?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think Pharaoh will be angry, and so will the people of Egypt, who do +not reason well. He will not see that, believing what they do, Laban and his +band were right to try to kill me who, however unwittingly, desecrated the +sanctuary of their god. Had they done otherwise they would have been no good +Hebrews, and for my part I cannot bear them malice. Yet all Egypt is afire +about this business and cries out that the Israelites should be +destroyed.” +</p> + +<p> +“It seems to me, Prince, that whatever may be the case with Ki’s +second prophecy, his third is in the way of fulfilment—namely that this +journey to Goshen may cause you to risk your throne.” +</p> + +<p> +He shrugged his shoulders and answered: +</p> + +<p> +“Not even for that, Ana, will I say to Pharaoh what is not in my mind. +But let that matter be till you are stronger.” +</p> + +<p> +“What chanced at the end of the fight, Prince, and how came I here?” +</p> + +<p> +“The guard killed most of the Hebrews who remained alive. Some few fled +and escaped in the darkness, among them Laban their leader, although you had +wounded him, and six were taken alive. They await their trial. I was but little +hurt and you, whom we thought dead, were but senseless, and senseless or +wandering you have remained till this hour. We carried you in a litter, and +here you have been these three days.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the lady Merapi?” +</p> + +<p> +“We set her in a chariot and brought her to the city, since had we left +her she would certainly have been murdered by her people. When Pharaoh heard +what she had done, as I did not think it well that she should dwell here, he +gave her the small house in this garden that she might be guarded, and with it +slave women to attend upon her. So there she dwells, having the freedom of the +palace, and all the while has filled the office of your nurse.” +</p> + +<p> +At this moment I grew faint and shut my eyes. When I opened them again, the +Prince had gone. Six more days went by before I was allowed to leave my bed, +and during this time I saw much of Merapi. She was very sad and lived in fear +of being killed by the Hebrews. Also she was troubled in her heart because she +thought she had betrayed her faith and people. +</p> + +<p> +“At least you are rid of Laban,” I said. +</p> + +<p> +“Never shall I be rid of him while we both live,” she answered. +“I belong to him and he will not loose my bond, because his heart is set +on me.” +</p> + +<p> +“And is your heart set on him?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +Her beautiful eyes filled with tears. +</p> + +<p> +“A woman may not have a heart. Oh! Ana, I am unhappy,” she +answered, and went away. +</p> + +<p> +Also I saw others. The Princess came to visit me. She thanked me much because I +had fulfilled my promise to her and guarded the Prince. Moreover she brought me +a gift of gold from Pharaoh, and other gifts of fine raiment from herself. She +questioned me closely about Merapi, of whom I could see she was already +jealous, and was glad when she learned that she was affianced to a Hebrew. Old +Bakenkhonsu came too, and asked me many things about the Prince, the Hebrews +and Merapi, especially Merapi, of whose deeds, he said, all Egypt was talking, +questions that I answered as best I could. +</p> + +<p> +“Here we have that woman of whom Ki told us,” he said, “she +who shall bring so much joy and so much sorrow to the Prince of Egypt.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why so?” I asked. “He has not taken her into his house, nor +do I think that he means to do so.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yet he will, Ana, whether he means it or not. For his sake she betrayed +her people, which among the Israelites is a deadly crime. Twice she saved his +life, once by warning him of the ambush, and again by stabbing with her own +hands one of her kinsmen who was murdering him. Is it not so? Tell me; you were +there.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is so, but what then?” +</p> + +<p> +“This: that whatever she may say, she loves him; unless indeed, it is you +whom she loves,” and he looked at me shrewdly. +</p> + +<p> +“When a woman has a prince, and such a prince to her hand, would she +trouble herself to set snares to catch a scribe?” I asked, with some +bitterness. +</p> + +<p> +“Oho!” he said, with one of his great laughs, “so things +stand thus, do they? Well, I thought it, but, friend Ana, be warned in time. Do +not try to conjure down the Moon to be your household lamp lest she should set, +and the Sun, her lord, should grow wroth and burn you up. Well, she loves him, +and therefore soon or late she will make him love her, being what she is.” +</p> + +<p> +“How, Bakenkhonsu?” +</p> + +<p> +“With most men, Ana, it would be simple. A sigh, some half-hidden tears +at the right moment, and the thing is done, as I have known it done a thousand +times. But this prince being what he is, it may be otherwise. She may show him +that her name is gone for him; that because of him she is hated by her people, +and rejected by her god, and thus stir his pity, which is Love’s own +sister. Or mayhap, being also, as I am told, wise, she will give him counsel as +to all these matters of the Israelites, and thus creep into his heart under the +guise of friendship, and then her sweetness and her beauty will do the rest in +Nature’s way. At least by this road or by that, upstream or downstream, +thither she will come.” +</p> + +<p> +“If so, what of it? It is the custom of the kings of Egypt to have more +wives than one.” +</p> + +<p> +“This, Ana; Seti, I think, is a man who in truth will have but one, and +that one will be this Hebrew. Yes, a Hebrew woman will rule Egypt, and turn him +to the worship of her god, for never will she worship ours. Indeed, when they +see that she is lost to them, her people will use her thus. Or perchance her +god himself will use her to fulfil his purpose, as already he may have used +her.” +</p> + +<p> +“And afterwards, Bakenkhonsu?” +</p> + +<p> +“Afterwards—who knows? I am not a magician, at least not one of any +account, ask it of Ki. But I am very, very old and I have watched the world, +and I tell you that these things will happen, unless——” and +he paused. +</p> + +<p> +“Unless what?” +</p> + +<p> +He dropped his voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Unless Userti is bolder than I think, and kills her first or, better +still, procures some Hebrew to kill her—say, that cast-off lover of hers. +If you would be a friend to Pharaoh and to Egypt, you might whisper it in her +ear, Ana.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never!” I answered angrily. +</p> + +<p> +“I did not think you would, Ana, who also struggle in this net of +moonbeams that is stronger and more real than any twisted out of palm or flax. +Well, nor will I, who in my age love to watch such human sport and, being so +near to them, fear to thwart the schemes of gods. Let this scroll unroll itself +as it will, and when it is open, read it, Ana, and remember what I said to you +this day. It will be a pretty tale, written at the end with blood for ink. Oho! +O-ho-ho!” and, laughing, he hobbled from the room, leaving me frightened. +</p> + +<p> +Moreover the Prince visited me every day, and even before I left my bed began +to dictate to me his report to Pharaoh, since he would employ no other scribe. +The substance of it was what he had foreshadowed, namely that the people of +Israel, having suffered much for generations at the hands of the Egyptians, +should now be allowed to depart as their prophets demanded, and go whither they +would unharmed. Of the attack upon us in the pass he made light, saying it was +the evil work of a few zealots wrought on by fancied insult to their god, a +deed for which the whole people should not be called upon to suffer. The last +words of the report were: +</p> + +<p> +“Remember, O Pharaoh, I pray thee, that Amon, god of the Egyptians, and +Jahveh, the god of the Israelites, cannot rule together in the same land. If +both abide in Egypt there will be a war of the gods wherein mortals may be +ground to dust. Therefore, I pray thee, let Israel go.” +</p> + +<p> +After I had risen and was recovered, I copied out this report in my fairest +writing, refusing to tell any of its purport, although all asked, among them +the Vizier Nehesi, who offered me a bribe to disclose its secret. This came to +the ears of Seti, I know not how, and he was much pleased with me about the +matter, saying he rejoiced to find that there was one scribe in Egypt who could +not be bought. Userti also questioned me, and when I refused to answer, strange +to say, was not angry, because, she declared, I only did my duty. +</p> + +<p> +At last the roll was finished and sealed, and the Prince with his own hand, but +without speaking, laid it on the knees of Pharaoh at a public Court, for this +he would trust no one else to do. Amenmeses also brought up his report, as did +Nehesi the Vizier, and the Captain of the guard which saved us from death. +Eight days later the Prince was summoned to a great Council of State, as were +all others of the royal House, together with the high officers. I too received +a summons, as one who had been concerned in these matters. +</p> + +<p> +The Prince, accompanied by the Princess, drove to the palace in Pharaoh’s +golden chariot, drawn by two milk-white horses of the blood of those famous +steeds that had saved the life of the great Rameses in the Syrian war. All down +the streets, that were filled with thousands of the people, they were received +with shouts of welcome. +</p> + +<p> +“See,” said the old councillor Bakenkhonsu, who was my companion in +a second chariot, “Egypt is proud and glad. It thought that its Prince +was but a dreamer of dreams. But now it has heard the tale of the ambush in the +pass and learned that he is a man of war, a warrior who can fight with the +best. Therefore it loves him and rejoices.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then, by the same rule, Bakenkhonsu, a butcher should be more great than +the wisest of scribes.” +</p> + +<p> +“So he is, Ana, especially if the butcher be one of men. The writer +creates, but the slayer kills, and in a world ruled of death he who kills has +more honour than he who creates. Hearken, now they are shouting out your name. +Is that because you are the author of certain writings? I tell you, No. It is +because you killed three men yonder in the pass. If you would become famous and +beloved, Ana, cease from the writing of books and take to the cutting of +throats.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yet the writer still lives when he is dead.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oho!” laughed Bakenkhonsu, “you are even more foolish than I +thought. How is a man advantaged by what happens when he is dead? Why, to-day +that blind beggar whining on the temple steps means more to Egypt than all the +mummies of all the Pharaohs, unless they can be robbed. Take what life can give +you, Ana, and do not trouble about the offerings which are laid in the tombs +for time to crumble.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is a mean faith, Bakenkhonsu.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very mean, Ana, like all else that we can taste and handle. A mean faith +suited to mean hearts, among whom should be reckoned all save one in every +thousand. Yet, if you would prosper, follow it, and when you are dead I will +come and laugh upon your grave, and say, ‘Here lies one of whom I had +hoped higher things, as I hope them of your master.’” +</p> + +<p> +“And not in vain, Bakenkhonsu, whatever may happen to the servant.” +</p> + +<p> +“That we shall learn, and ere long, I think. I wonder who will ride at +his side before the next Nile flood. By then, perchance, he will have changed +Pharaoh’s golden chariot for an ox-cart, and you will goad the oxen and +talk to him of the stars—or, mayhap of the moon. Well, you might both be +happier thus, and she of the moon is a jealous goddess who loves worship. +Oho-ho! Here are the palace steps. Help me to descend, Priest of the Lady of +the Moon.” +</p> + +<p> +We entered the palace and were led through the great hall to a smaller chamber +where Pharaoh, who did not wear his robes of state, awaited us, seated in a +cedar chair. Glancing at him I saw that his face was stern and troubled; also +it seemed to me that he had grown older. The Prince and Princess made obeisance +to him, as did we lesser folk, but he took no heed. When all were present and +the doors had been shut, Pharaoh said: +</p> + +<p> +“I have read your report, Son Seti, concerning your visit to the +Israelites, and all that chanced to you; and also the reports of you, nephew +Amenmeses, and of you, Officers, who accompanied the Prince of Egypt. Before I +speak of them, let the Scribe Ana, who was the chariot companion of his +Highness when the Hebrews attacked him, stand forward and tell me all that +passed.” +</p> + +<p> +So I advanced, and with bowed head repeated that tale, only leaving out so far +as was possible any mention of myself. When I had finished, Pharaoh said: +</p> + +<p> +“He who speaks but half the truth is sometimes more mischievous than a +liar. Did you then sit in the chariot, Scribe, doing nothing while the Prince +battled for his life? Or did you run away? Speak, Seti, and say what part this +man played for good or ill.” +</p> + +<p> +Then the Prince told of my share in the fight, with words that brought the +blood to my brow. He told also how that it was I who, taking the risk of his +wrath, had ordered the guard of twenty men to follow us unseen, had disguised +two seasoned soldiers as chariot runners, and had thought to send back the +driver to summon help at the commencement of the fray; how I had been hurt +also, and was but lately recovered. When he had finished, Pharaoh said: +</p> + +<p> +“That this story is true I know from others. Scribe, you have done well. +But for you to-day his Highness would lie upon the table of the embalmers, as +indeed for his folly he deserves to do, and Egypt would mourn from Thebes to +the mouths of Nile. Come hither.” +</p> + +<p> +I came with trembling steps, and knelt before his Majesty. Around his neck hung +a beauteous chain of wrought gold. He took it, and cast it over my head, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“Because you have shown yourself both brave and wise, with this gold I +give you the title of Councillor and King’s Companion, and the right to +inscribe the same upon your funeral stele. Let it be noted. Retire, Scribe Ana, +Councillor and King’s Companion.” +</p> + +<p> +So I withdrew confused, and as I passed Seti, he whispered in my ear: +</p> + +<p> +“I pray you, my lord, do not cease to be Prince’s Companion, +because you have become that of the King.” +</p> + +<p> +Then Pharaoh ordered that the Captain of the guard should be advanced in rank, +and that gifts should be given to each of the soldiers, and provision be made +for the children of those who had been killed, with double allowance to the +families of the two men whom I had disguised as runners. +</p> + +<p> +This done, once more Pharaoh spoke, slowly and with much meaning, having first +ordered that all attendants and guards should leave the chamber. I was about to +go also, but old Bakenkhonsu caught me by the robe, saying that in my new rank +of Councillor I had the right to remain. +</p> + +<p> +“Prince Seti,” he said, “after all that I have heard, I find +this report of yours strange reading. Moreover, the tenor of it is different +indeed to that of those of the Count Amenmeses and the officers. You counsel me +to let these Israelites go where they will, because of certain hardships that +they have suffered in the past, which hardships, however, have left them many +and rich. That counsel I am not minded to take. Rather am I minded to send an +army to the land of Goshen with orders to despatch this people, who conspired +to murder the Prince of Egypt, through the Gateway of the West, there to +worship their god in heaven or in hell. Aye, to slay them all from the +greybeard down to the suckling at the breast.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hear Pharaoh,” said Seti, quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“Such is my will,” went on Meneptah, “and those who +accompanied you upon your business, and all my councillors think as I do, for +truly Egypt cannot bear so hideous a treason. Yet, according to our law and +custom it is needful, before such great acts of war and policy are undertaken, +that he who stands next to the throne, and is destined to fill it, should give +consent thereto. Do you consent, Prince of Egypt?” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not consent, Pharaoh. I think it would be a wicked deed that tens +of thousands should be massacred for the reason that a few fools waylaid a man +who chanced to be of royal blood, because by inadvertence, he had desecrated +their sanctuary.” +</p> + +<p> +Now I saw that this answer made Pharaoh wroth, for never before had his will +been crossed in such a fashion. Still he controlled himself, and asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Do you then consent, Prince, to a gentler sentence, namely that the +Hebrew people should be broken up; that the more dangerous of them should be +sent to labour in the desert mines and quarries, and the rest distributed +throughout Egypt, there to live as slaves?” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not consent, Pharaoh. My poor counsel is written in yonder roll and +cannot be changed.” +</p> + +<p> +Meneptah’s eyes flashed, but again he controlled himself, and asked: +</p> + +<p> +“If you should come to fill this place of mine, Prince Seti, tell us, +here assembled, what policy will you pursue towards these Hebrews?” +</p> + +<p> +“That policy, O Pharaoh, which I have counselled in the roll. If ever I +fill the throne, I shall let them go whither they will, taking their goods with +them.” +</p> + +<p> +Now all those present stared at him and murmured. But Pharaoh rose, shaking +with wrath. Seizing his robe where it was fastened at the breast, he rent it, +and cried in a terrible voice: +</p> + +<p> +“Hear him, ye gods of Egypt! Hear this son of mine who defies me to my +face and would set your necks beneath the heel of a stranger god. Prince Seti, +in the presence of these royal ones, and these my councillors, +I——” +</p> + +<p> +He said no more, for the Princess Userti, who till now had remained silent, ran +to him, and throwing her arms about him, began to whisper in his ear. He +hearkened to her, then sat himself down, and spoke again: +</p> + +<p> +“The Princess brings it to my mind that this is a great matter, one not +to be dealt with hastily. It may happen that when the Prince has taken counsel +with her, and with his own heart, and perchance has sought the wisdom of the +gods, he will change the words which have passed his lips. I command you, +Prince, to wait upon me here at this same hour on the third day from this. +Meanwhile, I command all present, upon pain of death, to say nothing of what +has passed within these walls.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hear Pharaoh,” said the Prince, bowing. +</p> + +<p> +Meneptah rose to show that the Council was discharged, when the Vizier Nehesi +approached him, and asked: +</p> + +<p> +“What of the Hebrew prisoners, O Pharaoh, those murderers who were +captured in the pass?” +</p> + +<p> +“Their guilt is proved. Let them be beaten with rods till they die, and +if they have wives or children, let them be seized and sold as slaves.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pharaoh’s will be done!” said the Vizier. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap09"></a>CHAPTER IX.<br /> +THE SMITING OF AMON</h2> + +<p> +That evening I sat ill at ease in my work-chamber in Seti’s palace, +making pretence to write, I who felt that great evils threatened my lord the +Prince, and knew not what to do to turn them from him. The door opened, and old +Pambasa the chamberlain appeared and addressed me by my new titles, saying that +the Hebrew lady Merapi, who had been my nurse in sickness, wished to speak with +me. Presently she came and stood before me. +</p> + +<p> +“Scribe Ana,” she said, “I have but just seen my uncle Jabez, +who has come, or been sent, with a message to me,” and she hesitated. +</p> + +<p> +“Why was he sent, Lady? To bring you news of Laban?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not so. Laban has fled away and none know where he is, and Jabez has +only escaped much trouble as the uncle of a traitress by undertaking this +mission.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is the mission?” +</p> + +<p> +“To pray me, if I would save myself from death and the vengeance of God, +to work upon the heart of his Highness, which I know not how to +do——” +</p> + +<p> +“Yet I think you might find means, Merapi.” +</p> + +<p> +“——save through you, his friend and counsellor,” she +went on, turning away her face. “Jabez has learned that it is in the mind +of Pharaoh utterly to destroy the people of Israel.” +</p> + +<p> +“How does he know that, Merapi?” +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot say, but I think all the Hebrews know. I knew it myself though +none had told me. He has learned also that this cannot be done under the law of +Egypt unless the Prince who is heir to the throne and of full age consents. Now +I am come to pray you to pray the Prince not to consent.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not pray to the Prince yourself, Merapi——” I +began, when from the shadows behind me I heard the voice of Seti, who had +entered by the private door bearing some writings in his hand, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“And what prayer has the lady Merapi to make to me? Nay, rise and speak, +Moon of Israel.” +</p> + +<p> +“O Prince,” she pleaded, “my prayer is that you will save the +Hebrews from death by the sword, as you alone have the power to do.” +</p> + +<p> +At this moment the doors opened and in swept the royal Userti. +</p> + +<p> +“What does this woman here?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I think that she came to see Ana, wife, as I did, and as doubtless you +do. Also being here she prays me to save her people from the sword.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I pray you, husband, to give her people to the sword, which they +have earned, who would have murdered you.” +</p> + +<p> +“And been paid, everyone of them, Userti, unless some still linger +beneath the rods,” he added with a shudder. “The rest are +innocent—why should they die?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because your throne hangs upon it, Seti. I say that if you continue to +thwart the will of Pharaoh, as by the law of Egypt you can do, he will +disinherit you and set your cousin Amenmeses in your place, as by the law of +Egypt he can do.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought it, Userti. Yet why should I turn my back upon the right over +a matter of my private fortunes? The question is—is it the right?” +</p> + +<p> +She stared at him in amazement, she who never understood Seti and could not +dream that he would throw away the greatest throne in all the world to save a +subject people, merely because he thought that they should not die. Still, +warned by some instinct, she left the first question unanswered, dealing only +with the second. +</p> + +<p> +“It is the right,” she said, “for many reasons whereof I need +give but one, for in it lie all the others. The gods of Egypt are the true gods +whom we must serve and obey, or perish here and hereafter. The god of the +Israelites is a false god and those who worship him are heretics and by their +heresy under sentence of death. Therefore it is most right that those whom the +true gods have condemned should die by the swords of their servants.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is well argued, Userti, and if it be so, mayhap my mind will become +as yours in this matter, so that I shall no longer stand between Pharaoh and +his desire. But is it so? There’s the problem. I will not ask you why you +say that the gods of the Egyptians are the true gods, because I know what you +would answer, or rather that you could give no answer. But I will ask this lady +whether her god is a false god, and if she replies that he is not, I will ask +her to prove this to me if she can. If she is able to prove it, then I think +that what I said to Pharaoh to-day I shall repeat three days hence. If she is +not able to prove it, then I shall consider very earnestly of the matter. +Answer now, Moon of Israel, remembering that many thousands of lives may hang +on what you say.” +</p> + +<p> +“O your Highness,” began Merapi. Then she paused, clasped her hands +and looked upwards. I think that she was praying, for her lips moved. As she +stood thus I saw, and I think Seti saw also, a very wonderful light grow on her +face and gather in her eyes, a kind of divine fire of inspiration and resolve. +</p> + +<p> +“How can I, a poor Hebrew maiden, prove to your Highness that my God is +the true God and that the gods of Egypt are false gods? I know not, and yet, is +there any one god among all the many whom you worship, whom you are prepared to +set up against him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of a surety, Israelite,” answered Userti. “There is Amon-Ra, +Father of the gods, of whom all other gods have their being, and from whom they +draw their strength. Yonder his statue sits in the sanctuary of his ancient +temple. Let your god stir him from his place! But what will you bring forward +against the majesty of Amon-Ra?” +</p> + +<p> +“My God has no statues, Princess, and his place is in the hearts of men, +or so I have been taught by his prophets. I have nothing to bring forward in +this war save that which must be offered in all wars—my life.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean?” asked Seti, astounded. +</p> + +<p> +“I mean that I, unfriended and alone, will enter the presence of Amon-Ra +in his chosen sanctuary, and in the name of my God will challenge him to kill +me, if he can.” +</p> + +<p> +We stared at her, and Userti exclaimed: +</p> + +<p> +“If he can! Hearken now to this blasphemer, and do you, Seti, accept her +challenge as hereditary high-priest of the god Amon? Let her life pay forfeit +for her sacrilege.” +</p> + +<p> +“And if the great god Amon cannot, or does not deign to kill you, Lady, +how will that prove that your god is greater than he?” asked the Prince. +“Perhaps he might smile and in his pity, let the insult pass, as your god +did by me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thus it shall be proved, your Highness. If naught happens to me, or if I +am protected from anything that does happen, then I will dare to call upon my +god to work a sign and a wonder, and to humble Amon-Ra before your eyes.” +</p> + +<p> +“And if your god should also smile and let the matter pass, Lady, as he +did by me the other day when his priests called upon him, what shall we have +learned as to his strength, or as to that of Amon-Ra?” +</p> + +<p> +“O Prince, you will have learned nothing. Yet if I escape from the wrath +of Amon and my God is deaf to my prayer, then I am ready to be delivered over +into the hands of the priests of Amon that they may avenge my sacrilege upon +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“There speaks a great heart,” said Seti; “yet I am not minded +that this lady should set her life upon such an issue. I do not believe that +either the high-god of Egypt or the god of the Israelites will stir, but I am +quite sure that the priests of Amon will avenge the sacrilege, and that cruelly +enough. The dice are loaded against you, Lady. You shall not prove your faith +with blood.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not?” asked Userti. “What is this girl to you, Seti, +that you should stand between her and the fruit of her wickedness, you who at +least in name are the high-priest of the god whom she blasphemes and who wear +his robes at temple feasts? She believes in her god, leave it to her god to +help her as she has dared to say he will.” +</p> + +<p> +“You believe in Amon, Userti. Are you prepared to stake your life against +hers in this contest?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not so mad and vain, Seti, as to believe that the god of all the +world will descend from heaven to save me at my prayer, as this impious girl +pretends that she believes.” +</p> + +<p> +“You refuse. Then, Ana, what say you, who are a loyal worshipper of +Amon?” +</p> + +<p> +“I say, O Prince, that it would be presumptuous of me to take precedence +of his high-priest in such a matter.” +</p> + +<p> +Seti smiled and answered: +</p> + +<p> +“And the high-priest says that it would be presumptuous of him to push so +far the prerogative of a high office which he never sought.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your Highness,” broke in Merapi in her honeyed, pleading voice, +“I pray you to be gracious to me, and to suffer me to make this trial, +which I have sought, I know not why. Words such as I have spoken cannot be +recalled. Already they are registered in the books of Eternity, and soon or +late, in this way or in that, must be fulfilled. My life is staked, and I +desire to learn at once if it be forfeit.” +</p> + +<p> +Now even Userti looked on her with admiration, but answered only: +</p> + +<p> +“Of a truth, Israelite, I trust that this courage will not forsake you +when you are handed over to the mercies of Ki, the Sacrificer of Amon, and the +priests, in the vaults of the temple you would profane.” +</p> + +<p> +“I also trust that it will not, your Highness, if such should be my fate. +Your word, Prince of Egypt.” +</p> + +<p> +Seti looked at her standing before him so calmly with bowed head, and hands +crossed upon her breast. Then he looked at Userti, who wore a mocking smile +upon her face. She read the meaning of that smile as I did. It was that she did +not believe that he would allow this beautiful woman, who had saved his life, +to risk her life for the sake of any or all the powers of heaven or hell. For a +little while he walked to and fro about the chamber, then he stopped and said +suddenly addressing, not Merapi, but Userti: +</p> + +<p> +“Have your will, remembering that if this brave woman fails and dies, her +blood is on your hands, and that if she triumphs and lives, I shall hold her to +be one of the noblest of her sex, and shall make study of all this matter of +religion. Moon of Israel, as titular high-priest of Amon-Ra, I accept your +challenge on behalf of the god, though whether he will take note of it I do not +know. The trial shall be made to-morrow night in the sanctuary of the temple, +at an hour that will be communicated to you. I shall be present to make sure +that you meet with justice, as will some others. Register my commands, Scribe +Ana, and let the head-priest of Amon, Roi, and the sacrificer to Amon, Ki the +Magician, be summoned, that I may speak with them. Farewell, Lady.” +</p> + +<p> +She went, but at the door turned and said: +</p> + +<p> +“I thank you, Prince, on my own behalf, and on that of my people. +Whatever chances, I beseech you do not forget the prayer that I have made to +you to save them, being innocent, from the sword. Now I ask that I may be left +quite alone till I am summoned to the temple, who must make such preparation as +I can to meet my fate, whatever it may be.” +</p> + +<p> +Userti departed also without a word. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! friend, what have I done?” said Seti. “Are there any +gods? Tell me, are there any gods?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps we shall learn to-morrow night, Prince,” I answered. +“At least Merapi thinks that there is a god, and doubtless has been +commanded to put her faith to proof. This, as I believe, was the real message +that Jabez her uncle has brought to her.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +It was the hour before the dawn, just when the night is darkest. We stood in +the sanctuary of the ancient temple of Amon-Ra, that was lit with many lamps. +It was an awful place. On either side the great columns towered to the massive +roof. At the head of the sanctuary sat the statue of Amon-Ra, thrice the size +of a man. On his brow, rising from the crown, were two tall feathers of stone, +and in his hands he held the Scourge of Rule and the symbols of Power and +Everlastingness. The lamplight flickered upon his stern and terrible face +staring towards the east. To his right was the statue of Mut, the Mother of all +things. On her head was the double crown of Egypt and the uræus crest, and in +her hand the looped cross, the sign of Life eternal. To his left sat Khonsu, +the hawk-headed god of the moon. On his head was the crescent of the young moon +carrying the disc of the full moon; in his right hand he also held the looped +cross, the sign of Life eternal, and in his left the Staff of Strength. Such +was this mighty triad, but of these the greatest was Amon-Ra, to whom the +shrine was dedicated. Fearful they stood towering above us against the +background of blackness. +</p> + +<p> +Gathered there were Seti the Prince, clothed in a priest’s white robe, +and wearing a linen headdress, but no ornaments, and Userti the Princess, +high-priestess of Hathor, Lady of the West, Goddess of Love and Nature. She +wore Hathor’s vulture headdress, and on it the disc of the moon fashioned +of silver. Also were present Roi the head-priest, clad in his sacerdotal robes, +an old and wizened man with a strong, fierce face, Ki the Sacrificer and +Magician, Bakenkhonsu the ancient, myself, and a company of the priests of +Amon-Ra, Mut, and Khonsu. From behind the statues came the sound of solemn +singing, though who sang we could not see. +</p> + +<p> +Presently from out of the darkness that lay beyond the lamps appeared a woman, +led by two priestesses and wrapped in a long cloak. They brought her to an open +place in front of the statue of Amon, took from her the cloak and departed, +glancing back at her with eyes of hate and fear. There before us stood Merapi, +clad in white, with a simple wimple about her head made fast beneath her chin +with that scarabæus clasp which Seti had given to her in the city of Goshen, +one spot of brightest blue amid a cloud of white. She looked neither to right +nor left of her. Once only she glanced at the towering statue of the god that +frowned above, then with a little shiver, fixed her eyes upon the pattern of +the floor. +</p> + +<p> +“What does she look like?” whispered Bakenkhonsu to me. +</p> + +<p> +“A corpse made ready for the embalmers,” I answered. +</p> + +<p> +He shook his great head. +</p> + +<p> +“Then a bride made ready for her husband.” +</p> + +<p> +Again he shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“Then a priestess about to read from the roll of Mysteries.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now you have it, Ana, and to understand what she reads, which few +priestesses ever do. Also all three answers were right, for in this woman I +seem to see doom that is Death, life that is Love, and spirit that is Power. +She has a soul which both Heaven and Earth have kissed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Aye, but which of them will claim her in the end?” +</p> + +<p> +“That we may learn before the dawn, Ana. Hush! the fight begins.” +</p> + +<p> +The head-priest, Roi, advanced and, standing before the god, sprinkled his feet +with water and with perfume. Then he stretched out his hands, whereon all +present prostrated themselves, save Merapi only, who stood alone in that great +place like the survivor of a battle. +</p> + +<p> +“Hail to thee, Amon-Ra,” he began, “Lord of Heaven, +Establisher of all things, Maker of the gods, who unrolled the skies and built +the foundations of the Earth. O god of gods, appears before thee this woman +Merapi, daughter of Nathan, a child of the Hebrew race that owns thee not. This +woman blasphemes thy might; this woman defies thee; this woman sets up her god +above thee. Is it not so, woman?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is so,” answered Merapi in a low voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Thus does she defy thee, thou Only One of many Forms, saying ‘if +the god Amon of the Egyptians be a greater god than my god, let him snatch me +out of the arms of my god and here in this the shrine of Amon take the breath +from out my lips and leave me a thing of clay.’ Are these thy words, O +woman?” +</p> + +<p> +“They are my words,” she said in the same low voice, and oh! I +shivered as I heard. +</p> + +<p> +The priest went on. +</p> + +<p> +“O Lord of Time, Lord of Life, Lord of Spirits and the Divinities of +Heaven, Lord of Terror, come forth now in thy majesty and smite this blasphemer +to the dust.” +</p> + +<p> +Roi withdrew and Seti stood forward. +</p> + +<p> +“Know, O god Amon,” he said, addressing the statue as though he wee +speaking to a living man, “from the lips of me, thy high-priest, by birth +the Prince and Heir of Egypt, that great things hang upon this matter here in +the Land of Egypt, mayhap even who shall sit upon the throne that thou givest +to its kings. This woman of Israel dares thee to thy face, saying that there is +a greater god than thou art and that thou canst not harm her through the +buckler of his strength. She says, moreover, that she will call upon her god to +work a sign and a wonder upon thee. Lastly, she says that if thou dost not harm +her and if her god works no sign upon thee, then she is ready to be handed over +to thy priests and die the death of a blasphemer. Thy honour is set against her +life, O great God of Egypt, and we, thy worshippers, watch to see the balance +turn.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well and justly put,” muttered Bakenkhonsu to me. “Now if +Amon fails us, what will you think of Amon, Ana?” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall learn the high-priest’s mind and think what the +high-priest thinks,” I answered darkly, though in my heart I was terribly +afraid for Merapi, and, to speak truth, for myself also, because of the doubts +which arose in me and would not be quenched. +</p> + +<p> +Seti withdrew, taking his stand by Userti, and Ki stood forward and said: +</p> + +<p> +“O Amon, I thy Sacrificer, I thy Magician, to whom thou givest power, I +the priest and servant of Isis, Mother of Mysteries, Queen of the company of +the gods, call upon thee. She who stands before thee is but a Hebrew woman. +Yet, as thou knowest well, O Father, in this house she is more than woman, +inasmuch as she is the Voice and Sword of thine enemy, Jahveh, god of the +Israelites. She thinks, mayhap, that she has come here of her own will, but +thou knowest, Father Amon, as I know, that she is sent by the great prophets of +her people, those magicians who guide her soul with spells to work thee evil +and to set thee, Amon, beneath the heel of Jahveh. The stake seems small, the +life of this one maid, no more; yet it is very great. This is the stake, O +Father: Shall Amon rule the world, or Jahveh. If thou fallest to-night, thou +fallest for ever; if thou dost triumph to-night, thou dost triumph for ever. In +yonder shape of stone hides thy spirit; in yonder shape of woman’s flesh +hides the spirit of thy foe. Smite her, O Amon, smite her to small dust; let +not the strength that is in her prevail against thy strength, lest thy name +should be defiled and sorrows and loss should come upon the land which is thy +throne; lest, too, the wizards of the Israelites should overcome us thy +servants. Thus prayeth Ki thy magician, on whose soul it has pleased thee to +pour strength and wisdom.” +</p> + +<p> +Then followed a great silence. +</p> + +<p> +Watching the statue of the god, presently I thought that it moved, and as I +could see by the stir among them, so did the others. I thought that its stone +eyes rolled, I thought that it lifted the Scourge of Power in its granite hand, +though whether these things were done by some spirit or by some priest, or by +the magic of Ki, I do not know. At the least, a great wind began to blow about +the temple, stirring our robes and causing the lamps to flicker. Only the robes +of Merapi did not stir. Yet she saw what I could not see, for suddenly her eyes +grew frightened. +</p> + +<p> +“The god is awake,” whispered Bakenkhonsu. “Now good-bye to +your fair Israelite. See, the Prince trembles, Ki smiles, and the face of +Userti glows with triumph.” +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke the blue scarabæus was snatched from Merapi’s breast as +though by a hand. It fell to the floor as did her wimple, so that now she +appeared with her rich hair flowing down her robe. Then the eyes of the statue +seemed to cease to roll, the wind ceased to blow, and again there was silence. +</p> + +<p> +Merapi stooped, lifted the wimple, replaced it on her head, found the +scarabæus clasp, and very quietly, as a woman who was tiring herself might do, +made it fast in its place again, a sight at which I heard Userti gasp. +</p> + +<p> +For a long while we waited. Watching the faces of the congregation, I saw +amazement and doubt on those of the priests, rage on that of Ki, and on +Seti’s the flicker of a little smile. Merapi’s eyes were closed as +though she were asleep. At length she opened them, and turning her head towards +the Prince said: +</p> + +<p> +“O high-priest of Amon-Ra, has your god worked his will on me, or must I +wait longer before I call upon my God?” +</p> + +<p> +“Do what you will or can, woman, and make an end, for almost it is the +moment of dawn when the temple worship opens.” +</p> + +<p> +Then Merapi clasped her hands, and looking upwards, prayed aloud very sweetly +and simply, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“O God of my fathers, trusting in Thee, I, a poor maid of Thy people +Israel, have set the life Thou gavest me in Thy Hand. If, as I believe, Thou +art the God of gods, I pray Thee show a sign and a wonder upon this god of the +Egyptians, and thereby declare Thine Honour and keep my breath within my +breast. If it pleases Thee not, then let me die, as doubtless for my many sins +I deserve to do. O God of my fathers, I have made my prayer. Hear it or reject +it according to Thy Will.” +</p> + +<p> +So she ended, and listening to her, I felt the tears rising in my eyes, because +she was so much alone, and I feared that this god of hers would never come to +save her from the torments of the priests. Seti also turned his head away, and +stared down the sanctuary at the sky over the open court where the lights of +dawn were gathering. +</p> + +<p> +Once more there was silence. Then again that wind blew, very strongly, +extinguishing the lamps, and, as it seemed to me, whirling away Merapi from +where she was, so that now she stood to one side of the statue. The sanctuary +was filled with gloom, till presently the first rays of the rising sun struck +upon the roof. They fell down, down, as minute followed minute, till at length +they rested like a sword of flame upon the statue of Amon-Ra. Once more that +statue seemed to move. I thought that it lifted its stone arms to protect its +head. Then in a moment with a rending noise, its mighty mass burst asunder, and +fell in small dust about the throne, almost hiding it from sight. +</p> + +<p> +“Behold my God has answered me, the most humble of His servants,” +said Merapi in the same sweet and gentle voice. “Behold the sign and the +wonder!” +</p> + +<p> +“Witch!” screamed the head-priest Roi, and fled away, followed by +his fellows. +</p> + +<p> +“Sorceress!” hissed Userti, and fled also, as did all the others, +save the Prince, Bakenkhonsu, I Ana, and Ki the Magician. +</p> + +<p> +We stood amazed, and while we did so, Ki turned to Merapi and spoke. His face +was terrible with fear and fury, and his eyes shone like lamps. Although he did +but whisper, I who was nearest to them heard all that was said, which the +others could not do. +</p> + +<p> +“Your magic is good, Israelite,” he muttered, “so good that +it has overcome mine here in the temple where I serve.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have no magic,” she answered very low. “I obeyed a +command, no more.” +</p> + +<p> +He laughed bitterly, and asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Should two of a trade waste time on foolishness? Listen now. Teach me +your secrets, and I will teach you mine, and together we will drive Egypt like +a chariot.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have no secrets, I have only faith,” said Merapi again. +</p> + +<p> +“Woman,” he went on, “woman or devil, will you take me for +friend or foe? Here I have been shamed, since it was to me and not to their +gods that the priests trusted to destroy you. Yet I can still forgive. Choose +now, knowing that as my friendship will lead you to rule, to life and +splendour, so my hate will drive you to shame and death.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are beside yourself, and know not what you say. I tell you that I +have no magic to give or to withhold,” she answered, as one who did not +understand or was indifferent, and turned away from him. +</p> + +<p> +Thereon he muttered some curse which I could not catch, bowed to the heap of +dust that had been the statue of the god, and vanished away among the pillars +of the sanctuary. +</p> + +<p> +“Oho-ho!” laughed Bakenkhonsu. “Not in vain have I lived to +be so very old, for now it seems we have a new god in Egypt, and there stands +his prophetess.” +</p> + +<p> +Merapi came to the prince. +</p> + +<p> +“O high-priest of Amon,” she said, “does it please you to let +me go, for I am very weary?” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap10"></a>CHAPTER X.<br /> +THE DEATH OF PHARAOH</h2> + +<p> +It was the appointed day and hour. By command of the Prince I drove with him to +the palace of Pharaoh, whither her Highness the Princess refused to be his +companion, and for the first time we talked together of that which had passed +in the temple. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you seen the lady Merapi?” he asked of me. +</p> + +<p> +I answered No, as I was told that she was sick within her house and lay abed +suffering from weariness, or I knew not what. +</p> + +<p> +“She does well to keep there,” said Seti, “I think that if +she came out those priests would murder her if they could. Also there are +others,” and he glanced back at the chariot that bore Userti in state. +“Say, Ana, can you interpret all this matter?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not I, Prince. I thought that perhaps your Highness, the high-priest of +Amon, could give me light.” +</p> + +<p> +“The high-priest of Amon wanders in thick darkness. Ki and the rest swear +that this Israelite is a sorceress who has outmatched their magic, but to me it +seems more simple to believe that what she says is true; that her god is +greater than Amon.” +</p> + +<p> +“And if this be true, Prince, what are we to do who are sworn to the gods +of Egypt?” +</p> + +<p> +“Bow our heads and fall with them, I suppose, Ana, since honour will not +suffer us to desert them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Even if they be false, Prince?” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not think that they are false, Ana, though mayhap they be less +true. At least they are the gods of the Egyptians and we are Egyptians.” +He paused and glanced at the crowded streets, then added, “See, when I +passed this way three days ago I was received with shouts of welcome by the +people. Now they are silent, every one.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps they have heard of what passed in the temple.” +</p> + +<p> +“Doubtless, but it is not that which troubles them who think that the +gods can guard themselves. They have heard also that I would befriend the +Hebrews whom they hate, and therefore they begin to hate me. Why should I +complain when Pharaoh shows them the way?” +</p> + +<p> +“Prince,” I whispered, “what will you say to Pharaoh?” +</p> + +<p> +“That depends on what Pharaoh says to me. Ana, if I will not desert our +gods because they seem to be the weaker, though it should prove to my +advantage, do you think that I would desert these Hebrews because they seem to +be weaker, even to gain a throne?” +</p> + +<p> +“There greatness speaks,” I murmured, and as we descended from the +chariot he thanked me with a look. +</p> + +<p> +We passed through the great hall to that same chamber where Pharaoh had given +me the chain of gold. Already he was there seated at the head of the chamber +and wearing on his head the double crown. About him were gathered all those of +royal blood and the great officers of state. We made our obeisances, but of +these he seemed to take no note. His eyes were almost closed, and to me he +looked like a man who is very ill. The Princess Userti entered after us and to +her he spoke some words of welcome, giving her his hand to kiss. Then he +ordered the doors to be closed. As he did so, an officer of the household +entered and said that a messenger had come from the Hebrews who desired speech +with Pharaoh. +</p> + +<p> +“Let him enter,” said Meneptah, and presently he appeared. +</p> + +<p> +He was a wild-eyed man of middle age, with long hair that fell over his +sheepskin robe. To me he looked like a soothsayer. He stood before Pharaoh, +making no salutation. +</p> + +<p> +“Deliver your message and be gone,” said Nehesi the Vizier. +</p> + +<p> +“These are the words of the Fathers of Israel, spoken by my lips,” +cried the man in a voice that rang all round the vaulted chamber. “It has +come to our ears, O Pharaoh, that the woman Merapi, daughter of Nathan, who has +refuged in your city, she who is named Moon of Israel, has shown herself to be +a prophetess of power, one to whom our God has given strength, in that, +standing alone amidst the priests and magicians of Amon of the Egyptians, she +took no harm from their sorceries and was able with the sword of prayer to +smite the idol of Amon to the dust. We demand that this prophetess be restored +to us, making oath on our part that she shall be given over safely to her +betrothed husband and that no harm shall come to her for any crimes or treasons +she may have committed against her people.” +</p> + +<p> +“As to this matter,” replied Pharaoh quietly, “make your +prayer to the Prince of Egypt, in whose household I understand the woman +dwells. If it pleases him to surrender her who, I take it, is a witch or a +cunning worker of tricks, to her betrothed and her kindred, let him do so. It +is not for Pharaoh to judge of the fate of private slaves.” +</p> + +<p> +The man wheeled round and addressed Seti, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“You have heard, Son of the King. Will you deliver up this woman?” +</p> + +<p> +“Neither do I promise to deliver her up nor not to deliver her up,” +answered Seti, “since the lady Merapi is no member of my household, nor +have I any authority over her. She who saved my life dwells within my walls for +safety’s sake. If it pleases her to go, she can go; if it pleases her to +remain, she can remain. When this Court is finished I give you safe-conduct to +appear and in my presence learn her pleasure from her lips.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have your answer; now be gone,” said Nehesi. +</p> + +<p> +“Nay,” cried the man, “I have more words to speak. Thus say +the Fathers of Israel: We know the black counsel of your heart, O Pharaoh. It +has been revealed to us that it is in your mind to put the Hebrews to the +sword, as it is in the mind of the Prince of Egypt to save them from the sword. +Change that mind of yours, O Pharaoh, and swiftly, lest death fall upon you +from heaven above.” +</p> + +<p> +“Cease!” thundered Meneptah in a voice that stilled the murmurs of +the court. “Dog of a Hebrew, do you dare to threaten Pharaoh on his own +throne? I tell you that were you not a messenger, and therefore according to +our ancient law safe till the sun sets, you should be hewn limb from limb. Away +with him, and if he is found in this city after nightfall let him be +slain!” +</p> + +<p> +Then certain of the councillors sprang upon the man and thrust him forth +roughly. At the door he wrenched himself free and shouted: +</p> + +<p> +“Think upon my words, Pharaoh, before this sun has set. And you, great +ones of Egypt, think on them also before it appears again.” +</p> + +<p> +They drove him out with blows and the doors were shut. Once more Meneptah began +to speak, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“Now that this brawler is gone, what have you to say to me, Prince of +Egypt? Do you still give me the counsel that you wrote in the roll? Do you +still refuse, as heir of the Throne, to assent to my decree that these accursed +Hebrews be destroyed with the sword of my justice?” +</p> + +<p> +Now all turned their eyes on Seti, who thought a while, and answered: +</p> + +<p> +“Let Pharaoh pardon me, but the counsel that I gave I still give; the +assent that I refused I still refuse, because my heart tells me that so it is +right to do, and so I think will Egypt be saved from many troubles.” +</p> + +<p> +When the scribes had finished writing down these words Pharaoh asked again: +</p> + +<p> +“Prince of Egypt, if in a day to come you should fill my place, is it +still your intent to let this people of the Hebrews go unharmed, taking with +them the wealth that they have gathered here?” +</p> + +<p> +“Let Pharaoh pardon me, that is still my intent.” +</p> + +<p> +Now at these fateful words there arose a sigh of astonishment from all that +heard them. Before it had died away Pharaoh had turned to Userti and was asking: +</p> + +<p> +“Are these your counsel, your will, and your intent also, O Princess of +Egypt?” +</p> + +<p> +“Let Pharaoh hear me,” answered Userti in a cold, clear voice, +“they are not. In this great matter my lord the Prince walks one road and +I walk another. My counsel, will, and intent are those of Pharaoh.” +</p> + +<p> +“Seti my son,” said Meneptah, more kindly than I had ever heard him +speak before, “for the last time, not as your king but as your father, I +pray you to consider. Remembering that as it lies in your power, being of full +age and having been joined with me in many matters of government, to refuse +your assent to a great act of state, so it lies in my power with the assent of +the high-priests and of my ministers to remove you from my path. Seti, I can +disinherit you and set another in your place, and if you persist, that and no +less I shall do. Consider, therefore, my son.” +</p> + +<p> +In the midst of an intense silence Seti answered: +</p> + +<p> +“I have considered, O my Father, and whatever be the cost to me I cannot +go back upon my words.” +</p> + +<p> +Then Pharaoh rose and cried: +</p> + +<p> +“Take note all you assembled here, and let it be proclaimed to the people +of Egypt without the gates, that they take note also, that I depose Seti my son +from his place as Prince of Egypt and declare that he is removed from the +succession to the double Crown. Take note that my daughter Userti, Princess of +Egypt, wife of the Prince Seti, I do not depose. Whatever rights and heritages +are hers as heiress of Egypt let those rights and heritages remain to her, and +if a child be born of her and Prince Seti, who lives, let that child be heir to +the Throne of Egypt. Take note that, if no such child is born or until it is +born, I name my nephew, the count Amenmeses, son of my brother Khaemuas, now +gathered to Osiris, to fill the Throne of Egypt when I am no more. Come hither, +Count Amenmeses.” +</p> + +<p> +He advanced and stood before him. Then Pharaoh lifted from his head the double +crown he wore and for a moment set it on the brow of Amenmeses, saying as he +replaced it on his own head: +</p> + +<p> +“By this act and token do I name and constitute you, Amenmeses, to be +Royal Prince of Egypt in place of my son, Prince Seti, deposed. Withdraw, Royal +Prince of Egypt. I have spoken.” +</p> + +<p> +“Life! Blood! Strength!” cried all the company bowing before +Pharaoh, all save the Prince Seti who neither bowed nor stirred. Only he cried: +</p> + +<p> +“And I have heard. Will Pharaoh be pleased to declare whether with my +royal heritage he takes my life? If so, let it be here and now. My cousin +Amenmeses wears a sword.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, Son,” answered Meneptah sadly, “your life is left to +you and with it all your private rank and your possessions whatsoever and +wherever they may be.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let Pharaoh’s will be done,” replied Seti indifferently, +“in this as in all things. Pharaoh spares my life until such time as +Amenmeses his successor shall fill his place, when it shall be taken.” +</p> + +<p> +Meneptah started; this thought was new to him. +</p> + +<p> +“Stand forth, Amenmeses,” he cried, “and swear now the +threefold oath that may not be broken. Swear by Amon, by Ptah, and by Osiris, +god of death, that never will you attempt to harm the Prince Seti, your cousin, +either in body or in such state and prerogative as remain to him. Let Roi, the +head-priest of Amon, administer the oath now before us all.” +</p> + +<p> +So Roi spoke the oath in the ancient form, which was terrible even to hear, and +Amenmeses, unwillingly enough as I thought, repeated it after him, adding +however these words at the end, “All these things I swear and all these +penalties in this world and the world to be I invoke upon my head, provided +only that when the time comes the Prince Seti leaves me in peace upon the +throne to which it has pleased Pharaoh to decree to me.” +</p> + +<p> +Now some there murmured that this was not enough, since in their hearts there +were few who did not love Seti and grieve to see him thus stripped of his royal +heritage because his judgment differed from that of Pharaoh over a matter of +State policy. But Seti only laughed and said scornfully: +</p> + +<p> +“Let be, for of what value are such oaths? Pharaoh on the throne is above +all oaths who must make answer to the gods only and from the hearts of some the +gods are far away. Let Amenmeses not fear that I shall quarrel with him over +this matter of a crown, I who in truth have never longed for the pomp and cares +of royalty and who, deprived of these, still possess all that I can desire. I +go my way henceforward as one of many, a noble of Egypt—no more, and if +in a day to come it pleases the Pharaoh to be to shorten my wanderings, I am +not sure that even then I shall grieve so very much, who am content to accept +the judgment of the gods, as in the end he must do also. Yet, Pharaoh my +father, before we part I ask leave to speak the thoughts that rise in me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Say on,” muttered Meneptah. +</p> + +<p> +“Pharaoh, having your leave, I tell you that I think you have done a very +evil work this day, one that is unpleasing to those Powers which rule the +world, whoever and whatsoever they may be, one too that will bring upon Egypt +sorrows countless as the sand. I believe that these Hebrews whom you unjustly +seek to slay worship a god as great or greater than our own, and that they and +he will triumph over Egypt. I believe also that the mighty heritage which you +have taken from me will bring neither joy nor honour to him by whom it has been +received.” +</p> + +<p> +Here Amenmeses started forward, but Meneptah held up his hand, and he was +silent. +</p> + +<p> +“I believe, Pharaoh—alas! that I must say it—that your days +on earth are few and that for the last time we look on each other living. +Farewell, Pharaoh my father, whom still I love mayhap more in this hour of +parting than ever I did before. Farewell, Amenmeses, Prince of Egypt. Take from +me this ornament which henceforth should be worn by you only,” and +lifting from his headdress that royal circlet which marks the heir to the +throne, he held it to Amenmeses, who took it and, with a smile of triumph, set +it on his brow. +</p> + +<p> +“Farewell, Lords and Councillors; it is my hope that in yonder prince you +will find a master more to your liking that ever I could have been. Come, Ana, +my friend, if it still pleases you to cling to me for a little while, now that +I have nothing left to give.” +</p> + +<p> +For a few moments he stood still looking very earnestly at his father, who +looked back at him with tears in his deep-set, faded eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Then, though whether this was by chance I cannot say, taking no note of the +Princess Userti, who gazed at him perplexed and wrathful, Seti drew himself up +and cried in the ancient form: +</p> + +<p> +“Life! Blood! Strength! Pharaoh! Pharaoh! Pharaoh!” and bowed +almost to the ground. +</p> + +<p> +Meneptah heard. Muttering beneath his breath, “Oh! Seti, my son, my most +beloved son!” he stretched out his arms as though to call him back or +perhaps to clasp him. As he did so I saw his face change. Next instant he fell +forward to the ground and lay there still. All the company stood struck with +horror, only the royal physician ran to him, while Roi and others who were +priests began to mutter prayers. +</p> + +<p> +“Has the good god been gathered to Osiris?” asked Amenmeses +presently in a hoarse voice, “because if it be so, I am Pharaoh.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, Amenmeses,” exclaimed Userti, “the decrees have not yet +been sealed or promulgated. They have neither strength nor weight.” +</p> + +<p> +Before he could answer the physician cried: +</p> + +<p> +“Peace! Pharaoh still lives, his heart beats. This is but a fit which may +pass. Begone, every one, he must have quiet.” +</p> + +<p> +So we went, but first Seti knelt down and kissed his father on the brow. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +An hour later the Princess Userti broke into the room of his palace where the +Prince and I were talking. +</p> + +<p> +“Seti,” she said, “Pharaoh still lives, but the physicians +say he will be dead by dawn. There is yet time. Here I have a writing, sealed +with his signet and witnessed, wherein he recalls all that he decreed in the +Court to-day, and declares you, his son, to be the true and only heir of the +throne of Egypt.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it so, wife? Tell me now how did a dying man in a swoon command and +seal this writing?” and he touched the scroll she held in her hand. +</p> + +<p> +“He recovered for a little while; Nehesi will tell you how,” she +replied, looking him in the face with cold eyes. Then before he could speak, +she added, “Waste no more breath in questions, but act and at once. The +General of the guards waits below; he is your faithful servant. Through him I +have promised a gift to every soldier on the day that you are crowned. Nehesi +and most of the officers are on our side. Only the priests are against us +because of that Hebrew witch whom you shelter, and of her tribe whom you +befriend; but they have not had time to stir up the people nor will they +attempt revolt. Act, Seti, act, for none will move without your express +command. Moreover, no question will be raised afterwards, since from Thebes to +the sea and throughout the world you are known to be the heir of Egypt.” +</p> + +<p> +“What would you have me do, wife?” asked Seti, when she paused for +lack of breath. +</p> + +<p> +“Cannot you guess? Must I put statecraft into your head as well as a +sword into your hand? Why that scribe of yours, who follows your heels like a +favoured dog, would be more apt a pupil. Hearken then. Amenmeses has sent out +to gather strength, but as yet there are not fifty men about him whom he can +trust.” She leant forward and whispered fiercely, “Kill the +traitor, Amenmeses—all will hold it a righteous act, and the General +waits your word. Shall I summon him?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think not,” answered Seti. “Because Pharaoh, as he has a +right to do, is pleased to name a certain man of royal blood to succeed him, +how does this make that man a traitor to Pharaoh who still lives? But, traitor +or none, I will not murder my cousin Amenmeses.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then he will murder you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe. That is a matter between him and the gods which I leave them to +settle. The oath he swore to-day is not one to be lightly broken. But whether +he breaks it or not, I also swore an oath, at least in my heart, namely that I +would not attempt to dispute the will of Pharaoh whom, after all, I love as my +father and honour as my king, Pharaoh who still lives and may, as I hope, +recover. What should I say to him if he recovered or, at the worst, when at +last we meet elsewhere?” +</p> + +<p> +“Pharaoh never will recover; I have spoken to the physician and he told +me so. Already they pierce his skull to let out the evil spirit of sickness, +after which none of our family have lived for very long.” +</p> + +<p> +“Because, as I hold, thereby, whatever priests and physicians may say, +they let in the good spirit of death. Ana, I pray you if I——” +</p> + +<p> +“Man,” she broke in, striking her hand upon the table by which she +stood, “do you understand that while you muse and moralise your crown is +passing from you?” +</p> + +<p> +“It has already passed, Lady. Did you not see me give it to +Amenmeses?” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you understand that you who should be the greatest king in all the +world, in some few hours if indeed you are allowed to live, will be nothing but +a private citizen of Egypt, one at whom the very beggars may spit and take no +harm?” +</p> + +<p> +“Surely, Wife. Moreover, there is little virtue in what I do, since on +the whole I prefer that prospect and am willing to take the risk of being +hurried from an evil world. Hearken,” he added, with a change of tone and +gesture. “You think me a fool and a weakling; a dreamer also, you, the +clear-eyed, hard-brained stateswoman who look to the glittering gain of the +moment for which you are ready to pay in blood, and guess nothing of what lies +beyond. I am none of these things, except, perchance, the last. I am only a man +who strives to be just and to do right, as right seems to me, and if I dream, +it is of good, not evil, as I understand good and evil. You are sure that this +dreaming of mine will lead me to worldly loss and shame. Even of that <i>I</i> +am not sure. The thought comes to me that it may lead me to those very baubles +on which you set your heart, but by a path strewn with spices and with flowers, +not by one paved with the bones of men and reeking with their gore. Crowns that +are bought with the promise of blood and held with cruelty are apt to be lost +in blood, Userti.” +</p> + +<p> +She waved her hand. “I pray you keep the rest, Seti, till I have more +time to listen. Moreover if I need prophecies, I think it better to turn to Ki +and those who make them their life-study. For me this is a day of deeds, not +dreams, and since you refuse my help, and behave as a sick girl lost in +fancies, I must see to myself. As while you live I cannot reign alone or wage +war in my own name only, I go to make terms with Amenmeses, who will pay me +high for peace.” +</p> + +<p> +“You go—and do you return, Userti?” +</p> + +<p> +She drew herself to her full height, looking very royal, and answered slowly: +</p> + +<p> +“I do not return. I, the Princess of Egypt, cannot live as the wife of a +common man who falls from a throne to set himself upon the earth, and smears +his own brow with mud for a uræus crown. When your prophecies come true, Seti, +and you crawl from your dust, then perhaps we may speak again.” +</p> + +<p> +“Aye, Userti, but the question is, what shall we say?” +</p> + +<p> +“Meanwhile,” she added, as she turned, “I leave you to your +chosen counsellors—yonder scribe, whom foolishness, not wisdom, has +whitened before his time, and perchance the Hebrew sorceress, who can give you +moonbeams to drink from those false lips of hers. Farewell, Seti, once a prince +and my husband.” +</p> + +<p> +“Farewell, Userti, who, I fear, must still remain my sister.” +</p> + +<p> +Then he watched her go, and turning to me, said: +</p> + +<p> +“To-day, Ana, I have lost both a crown and a wife, yet strange to tell I +do not know which of these calamities grieves me least. Yet it is time that +fortune turned. Or mayhap all the evils are not done. Would you not go also, +Ana? Although she gibes at you in her anger, the Princess thinks well of you, +and would keep you in her service. Remember, whoever falls in Egypt, she will +be great till the last.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! Prince,” I answered, “have I not borne enough to-day +that you must add insult to my load, you with whom I broke the cup and swore +the oath?” +</p> + +<p> +“What!” he laughed. “Is there one in Egypt who remembers +oaths to his own loss? I thank you, Ana,” and taking my hand he pressed +it. +</p> + +<p> +At that moment the door opened, and old Pambasa entered, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“The Hebrew woman, Merapi, would see you; also two Hebrew men.” +</p> + +<p> +“Admit them,” said Seti. “Note, Ana, how yonder old +time-server turns his face from the setting sun. This morning even it would +have been ‘to see your Highness,’ uttered with bows so low that his +beard swept the floor. Now it is ‘to see you’ and not so much as an +inclination of the head in common courtesy. This, moreover, from one who has +robbed me year by year and grown fat on bribes. It is the first of many bitter +lessons, or rather the second—that of her Highness was the first; I pray +that I may learn them with humility.” +</p> + +<p> +While he mused thus and, having no comfort to offer, I listened sad at heart, +Merapi entered, and a moment after her the wide-eyed messenger whom we had seen +in Pharaoh’s Court, and her uncle Jabez the cunning merchant. She bowed +low to Seti, and smiled at me. Then the other two appeared, and with small +salutation the messenger began to speak. +</p> + +<p> +“You know my demand, Prince,” he said. “It is that this woman +should be returned to her people. Jabez, her uncle, will lead her away.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you know my answer, Israelite,” answered Seti. “It is +that I have no power over the coming or the going of the lady Merapi, or at +least wish to claim none. Address yourself to her.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is it you wish with me, Priest?” asked Merapi quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“That you should return to the town of Goshen, daughter of Nathan. Have +you no ears to hear?” +</p> + +<p> +“I hear, but if I return, what will you of me?” +</p> + +<p> +“That you who have proved yourself a prophetess by your deeds in yonder +temple should dedicate your powers to the service of your people, receiving in +return full forgiveness for the evils you have wrought against them, which we +swear to you in the name of God.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am no prophetess, and I have wrought no evils against my people, +Priest. I have only saved them from the evil of murdering one who has shown +himself their friend, even as I hear to the laying down of his crown for their +sake.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is for the Fathers of Israel and not for you to judge, woman. Your +answer?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is neither for them nor for me, but for God only.” She paused, +then added, “Is this all you ask of me?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is all the Fathers ask, but Laban asks his affianced wife.” +</p> + +<p> +“And am I to be given in marriage to—this assassin?” +</p> + +<p> +“Without doubt you are to be given to this brave soldier, being already +his.” +</p> + +<p> +“And if I refuse?” +</p> + +<p> +“Then, Daughter of Nathan, it is my part to curse you in the name of God, +and to declare you cut off and outcast from the people of God. It is my part to +announce to you further that your life is forfeit, and that any Hebrew may kill +you when and how he can, and take no blame.” +</p> + +<p> +Merapi paled a little, then turning to Jabez, asked: +</p> + +<p> +“You have heard, my uncle. What say you?” +</p> + +<p> +Jabez looked round shiftily, and said in his unctuous voice: +</p> + +<p> +“My niece, surely you must obey the commands of the Elders of Israel who +speak the will of Heaven, as you obeyed them when you matched yourself against +the might of Amon.” +</p> + +<p> +“You gave me a different counsel yesterday, my uncle. Then you said I had +better bide where I was.” +</p> + +<p> +The messenger turned and glared at him. +</p> + +<p> +“There is a great difference between yesterday and to-day,” went on +Jabez hurriedly. “Yesterday you were protected by one who would soon be +Pharaoh, and might have been able to move his mind in favour of your folk. +To-day his greatness is stripped from him, and his will has no more weight in +Egypt. A dead lion is not to be feared, my niece.” +</p> + +<p> +Seti smiled at this insult, but Merapi’s face, like my own, grew red, as +though with anger. +</p> + +<p> +“Sleeping lions have been taken for dead ere now, my uncle, as those who +would spurn them have discovered to their cost. Prince Seti, have you no word +to help me in this strait?” +</p> + +<p> +“What is the strait, Lady? If you wish to go to your people and—to +Laban, who, I understand, is recovered from his hurts, there is naught between +you and me save my gratitude to you which gives me the right to say you shall +not go. If, however, you wish to stay, then perhaps I am still not so powerless +to shield or smite as this worthy Jabez thinks, who still remain the greatest +lord in Egypt and one with those that love him. Therefore should you desire to +remain, I think that you may do so unmolested of any, and least of all by that +friend in whose shadow it pleases you to sojourn.” +</p> + +<p> +“Those are very gentle words,” murmured Merapi, “words that +few would speak to a maid from whom naught is asked and who has naught to +give.” +</p> + +<p> +“A truce to this talk,” snarled the messenger. “Do you obey +or do you rebel? Your answer.” +</p> + +<p> +She turned and looked him full in the face, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“I do not return to Goshen and to Laban, of whose sword I have seen +enough.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mayhap you will see more of it before all is done. For the last time, +think ere the curse of your God and your people falls upon you, and after it, +death. For fall I say it shall, I, who, as Pharaoh knows to-day, am no false +prophet, and as that Prince knows also.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not think that my God, who sees the hearts of those that he has +made, will avenge himself upon a woman because she refuses to be wedded to a +murderer whom of her own will she never chose, which, Priest, is the fate you +offer me. Therefore I am content to leave judgment in the hands of the great +Judge of all. For the rest I defy you and your commands. If I must be +slaughtered, let me die, but at least let me die mistress of myself and free, +who am no man’s love, or wife, or slave.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well spoken!” whispered Seti to me. +</p> + +<p> +Then this priest became terrible. Waving his arms and rolling his wild eyes, he +poured out some hideous curse upon the head of this poor maid, much of which, +as it was spoken rapidly in an ancient form of Hebrew, we did not understand. +He cursed her living, dying, and after death. He cursed her in her love and +hate, wedded or alone. He cursed her in child-bearing or in barrenness, and he +cursed her children after her to all generations. Lastly, he declared her cut +off from and rejected by the god she worshipped, and sentenced her to death at +the hands of any who could slay her. So horrible was that curse that she shrank +away from him, while Jabez crouched about the ground hiding his eyes with his +hands, and even I felt my blood turn cold. +</p> + +<p> +At length he paused, foaming at the lips. Then, suddenly, shouting, +“After judgment, doom!” he drew a knife from his robe and sprang at +her. +</p> + +<p> +She fled behind us. He followed, but Seti, crying, “Ah, I thought +it,” leapt between them, as he did so drawing the iron sword which he +wore with his ceremonial dress. At him he sprang and the next thing I saw was +the red point of the sword standing out beyond the priest’s shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +Down he fell, babbling: +</p> + +<p> +“Is this how you show your love for Israel, Prince?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is how I show my hate of murderers,” answered Seti. +</p> + +<p> +Then the man died. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” cried Merapi wringing her hands, “once more I have +caused Hebrew blood to flow and now all this curse will fall on me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, on me, Lady, if there is anything in curses, which I doubt, for +this deed was mine, and at the worst yonder mad brute’s knife did not +fall on you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, life is left if only for a little while. Had it not been for you, +Prince, by now, I——” and she shuddered. +</p> + +<p> +“And had it not been for you, Moon of Israel, by now +I——” and he smiled, adding, “Surely Fate weaves a +strange web round you and me. First you save me from the sword; then I save +you. I think, Lady, that in the end we ought to die together and give Ana here +stuff for the best of all his stories. Friend Jabez,” he went on to the +Israelite who was still crouching in the corner with the eyes starting from his +head, “get you back to your gentle-hearted people and make it clear to +them why the lady Merapi cannot companion you, taking with you that carrion to +prove your tale. Tell them that if they send more men to molest your niece a +like fate awaits them, but that now as before I do not turn my back upon them +because of the deeds of a few madmen or evil-doers, as I have given them proof +to-day. Ana, make ready, since soon I leave for Memphis. See that the Lady +Merapi, who will travel alone, has fit escort for her journey, that is if it +pleases her to depart from Tanis.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap11"></a>CHAPTER XI.<br /> +THE CROWNING OF AMENMESES</h2> + +<p> +Now, notwithstanding all the woes that fell on Egypt and a certain secret +sorrow of my own, began the happiest of the days which the gods have given me. +We went to Mennefer or Memphis, the white-walled city where I was born, the +city that I loved. Now no longer did I dwell in a little house near to the +enclosure of the temple of Ptah, which is vaster and more splendid than all +those of Thebes or Tanis. My home was in the beautiful palace of Seti, which he +had inherited from his mother, the Great Royal Wife. It stood, and indeed still +stands, on a piled-up mound without the walls near to the temple of the goddess +Neit, who always has her habitation to the north of the wall, why I do not +know, because even her priests cannot tell me. In front of this palace, facing +to the north, is a great portico, whereof the roof is borne upon palm-headed, +painted columns whence may be seen the most lovely prospect in Egypt. First the +gardens, then the palm-groves, then the cultivated land, then the broad and +gentle Nile and, far away, the desert. +</p> + +<p> +Here, then, we dwelt, keeping small state and almost unguarded, but in wealth +and comfort, spending our time in the library of the palace, or in those of the +temples, and when we wearied of work, in the lovely gardens or, perchance, +sailing upon the bosom of the Nile. The lady Merapi dwelt there also, but in a +separate wing of the palace, with certain slaves and servants whom Seti had +given to her. Sometimes we met her in the gardens, where it pleased her to walk +at the same hours that we did, namely before the sun grew hot, or in the cool +of the evening, and now and again when the moon shone at night. Then the three +of us would talk together, for Seti never sought her company alone or within +walls. +</p> + +<p> +Those talks were very pleasant. Moreover they grew more frequent as time went +on, since Merapi had a thirst for learning, and the Prince would bring her +rolls to read in a little summer-house there was. Here we would sit, or if the +heat was great, outside beneath the shadow of two spreading trees that +stretched above the roof of the little pleasure-house, while Seti discoursed of +the contents of the rolls and instructed her in the secrets of our writing. +Sometimes, too, I read them stories of my making, to which it pleased them both +to listen, or so they said, and I, in my vanity, believed. Also we would talk +of the mystery and the wonder of the world and of the Hebrews and their fate, +or of what passed in Egypt and the neighbouring lands. +</p> + +<p> +Nor was Merapi altogether lonesome, seeing that there dwelt in Memphis certain +ladies who had Hebrew blood in their veins, or were born of the Israelites and +had married Egyptians against their law. Among these she made friends, and +together they worshipped in their own fashion with none to say them nay, since +here no priests were allowed to trouble them. +</p> + +<p> +For our part we held intercourse with as many as we pleased, since few forgot +that Seti was by blood the Prince of Egypt, that is, a man almost half divine, +and all were eager to visit him. Also he was much beloved for his own sake and +more particularly by the poor, whose wants it was his delight to relieve to the +full limit of his wealth. Thus it came about that whenever he went abroad, +although against his will, he was received with honours and homage that were +almost royal, for though Pharaoh could rob him of the Crown he could not empty +his veins of the blood of kings. +</p> + +<p> +It was on this account that I feared for his safety, since I was sure that +through his spies Amenmeses knew all and would grow jealous of a dethroned +prince who was still so much adored by those over whom of right he should have +ruled. I told Seti of my doubts and that when he travelled the streets he +should be guarded by armed men. But he only laughed and answered that, as the +Hebrews had failed to kill him, he did not think that any others would succeed. +Moreover he believed there were no Egyptians in the land who would lift a sword +against him, or put poison in his drink, whoever bade them. Also he added these +words: +</p> + +<p> +“The best way to escape death is to have no fear of death, for then +Osiris shuns us.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Now I must tell of the happenings at Tanis. Pharaoh Meneptah lingered but a few +hours and never found his mind again before his spirit flew to Heaven. Then +there was great mourning in the land, for, if he was not loved, Meneptah was +honoured and feared. Only among the Israelites there was open rejoicing, +because he had been their enemy and their prophets had foretold that death was +near to him. They gave it out that he had been smitten of their God, which +caused the Egyptians to hate them more than ever. There was doubt, too, and +bewilderment in Egypt, for though his proclamation disinheriting the Prince +Seti had been published abroad, the people, and especially those who dwelt in +the south, could not understand why this should have been done over a matter of +the shepherd slaves who dwelt in Goshen. Indeed, had the Prince but held up his +hand, tens of thousands would have rallied to his standard. Yet this he refused +to do, which astonished all the world, who thought it marvellous that any man +should refuse a throne which would have lifted him almost to the level of the +gods. Indeed, to avoid their importunities he had set out at once for Memphis, +and there remained hidden away during the period of mourning for his father. So +it came about that Amenmeses succeeded with none to say him nay, since without +her husband Userti could not or would not act. +</p> + +<p> +After the days of embalmment were accomplished the body of Pharaoh Meneptah was +carried up the Nile to be laid in his eternal house, the splendid tomb that he +had made ready for himself in the Valley of Dead Kings at Thebes. To this great +ceremony the Prince Seti was not bidden, lest, as Bakenkhonsu told me +afterwards, his presence should cause some rising in his favour, with or +without his will. For this reason also the dead god, as he was named, was not +suffered to rest at Memphis on his last journey up the Nile. Disguised as a man +of the people the Prince watched his father’s body pass in the funeral +barge guarded by shaven, white-robed priests, the centre of a splendid +procession. In front went other barges filled with soldiers and officers of +state, behind came the new Pharaoh and all the great ones of Egypt, while the +sounds of lamentation floated far over the face of the waters. They appeared, +they passed, they disappeared, and when they had vanished Seti wept a little, +for in his own fashion he loved his father. +</p> + +<p> +“Of what use is it to be a king and named half-divine, Ana,” he +said to me, “seeing that the end of such gods as these is the same as +that of the beggar at the gate?” +</p> + +<p> +“This, Prince,” I answered, “that a king can do more good +than a beggar while the breath is in his nostrils, and leave behind him a great +example to others.” +</p> + +<p> +“Or more harm, Ana. Also the beggar can leave a great example, that of +patience in affliction. Still, if I were sure that I should do nothing but +good, then perhaps I would be a king. But I have noted that those who desire to +do the most good often work the greatest harm.” +</p> + +<p> +“Which, if followed out, would be an argument for wishing to do evil, +Prince.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not so,” he answered, “because good triumphs at the last. +For good is truth and truth rules earth and heaven.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then it is clear, Prince, that you should seek to be a king.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will remember the argument, Ana, if ever time brings me an opportunity +unstained by blood,” he answered. +</p> + +<p> +When the obsequies of Pharaoh were finished, Amenmeses returned to Tanis, and +there was crowned as Pharaoh. I attended this great ceremony, bearing +coronation gifts of certain royal ornaments which the Prince sent to Pharaoh, +saying it was not fit that he, as a private person, should wear them any +longer. These I presented to Pharaoh, who took them doubtfully, declaring that +he did not understand the Prince Seti’s mind and actions. +</p> + +<p> +“They hide no snare, O Pharaoh,” I said. “As you rejoice in +the glory that the gods have sent you, so the Prince my master rejoices in the +rest and peace which the gods have given him, asking no more.” +</p> + +<p> +“It may be so, Scribe, but I find this so strange a thing, that sometimes +I fear lest the rich flowers of this glory of mine should hide some deadly +snake, whereof the Prince knows, if he did not set it there.” +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot say, O Pharaoh, but without doubt, although he could work no +guile, the Prince is not as are other men. His mind is both wide and +deep.” +</p> + +<p> +“Too deep for me,” muttered Amenmeses. “Nevertheless, say to +my royal cousin that I thank him for his gifts, especially as some of them were +worn, when he was heir to Egypt, by my father Khaemuas, who I would had left me +his wisdom as well as his blood. Say to him also that while he refrains from +working me harm upon the throne, as I know he has done up to the present, he +may be sure that I will work him none in the station which he has chosen.” +</p> + +<p> +Also I saw the Princess Userti who questioned me closely concerning her lord. I +told her everything, keeping naught back. She listened and asked: +</p> + +<p> +“What of that Hebrew woman, Moon of Israel? Without doubt she fills my +place.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not so, Princess,” I answered. “The Prince lives alone. +Neither she nor any other woman fills your place. She is a friend to him, no +more.” +</p> + +<p> +“A friend! Well, at least we know the end of such friendships. Oh! surely +the Prince must be stricken with madness from the gods!” +</p> + +<p> +“It may be so, your Highness, but I think that if the gods smote more men +with such madness, the world would be better than it is.” +</p> + +<p> +“The world is the world, and the business of those who are born to +greatness is to rule it as it is, not to hide away amongst books and flowers, +and to talk folly with a beautiful outland woman, and a scribe however +learned,” she answered bitterly, adding, “Oh! if the Prince is not +mad, certainly he drives others to madness, and me, his spouse, among them. +That throne is his, his; yet he suffers a cross-grained dolt to take his place, +and sends him gifts and blessings.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think your Highness should wait till the end of the story before you +judge of it.” +</p> + +<p> +She looked at me sharply, and asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you say that? Is the Prince no fool after all? Do he and you, who +both seem to be so simple, perchance play a great and hidden game, as I have +known men feign folly in order to do with safety? Or has that witch of an +Israelite some secret knowledge in which she instructs you, such as a woman who +can shatter the statue of Amon to fine dust might well possess? You make +believe not to know, which means that you will not answer. Oh! Scribe Ana, if +only it were safe, I think I could find a way to wring the truth out of you, +although you do pretend to be but a babe for innocence.” +</p> + +<p> +“It pleases your Highness to threaten and without cause.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” she answered, changing her voice and manner, “I do not +threaten; it is only the madness that I have caught from Seti. Would you not be +mad if you knew that another woman was to be crowned to-morrow in your place, +because—because——” and she began to weep, which +frightened me more than all her rough words. +</p> + +<p> +Presently she dried her tears, and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Say to my lord that I rejoice to hear that he is well and send him +greetings, but that never of my own wish will I look upon his living face again +unless indeed he takes another counsel, and sets himself to win that which is +his own. Say to him that though he has so little care for me, and pays no heed +to my desires, still I watch over his welfare and his safety, as best I +may.” +</p> + +<p> +“His safety, Princess! Pharaoh assured me not an hour ago that he had +naught to fear, as indeed he fears naught.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! which of you is the more foolish,” she exclaimed stamping her +foot, “the man or his master? You believe that the Prince has naught to +fear because that usurper tells you so, and he believes it—well, because +he fears naught. For a little while he may sleep in peace. But let him wait +until troubles of this sort or of that arise in Egypt and, understanding that +the gods send them on account of the great wickedness that my father wrought +when death had him by the throat and his mind was clouded, the people begin to +turn their eyes towards their lawful king. Then the usurper will grow jealous, +and if he has his way, the Prince will sleep in peace—for ever. If his +throat remains uncut, it will be for one reason only, that I hold back the +murderer’s hand. Farewell, I can talk no more, for I say to you that my +brain is afire—and to-morrow he should have been crowned, and I with +him,” and she swept away, royal as ever, leaving me wondering what she +meant when she spoke of troubles arising in Egypt, or if the words were but +uttered at hazard. +</p> + +<p> +Afterwards Bakenkhonsu and I supped together at the college of the temple of +Ptah, of which because of his age he was called the father, when I heard more +of this matter. +</p> + +<p> +“Ana,” he said, “I tell you that such gloom hangs over Egypt +as I have never known even when it was thought that the Ninebow Barbarians +would conquer and enslave the land. Amenmeses will be the fifth Pharaoh whom I +have seen crowned, the first of them when I was but a little child hanging to +my mother’s robe, and not once have I known such joylessness.” +</p> + +<p> +“That may be because the crown passes to one who should not wear it, +Bakenkhonsu.” +</p> + +<p> +He shook his head. “Not altogether. I think this darkness comes from the +heavens as light does. Men are afraid they know not of what.” +</p> + +<p> +“The Israelites,” I suggested. +</p> + +<p> +“Now you are near to it, Ana, for doubtless they have much to do with the +matter. Had it not been for them Seti and not Amenmeses would be crowned +to-morrow. Also the tale of the marvel which the beautiful Hebrew woman wrought +in the temple yonder has got abroad and is taken as an omen. Did I tell you +that six days gone a fine new statue of the god was consecrated there and on +the following morning was found lying on its side, or rather with its head +resting on the breast of Mut?” +</p> + +<p> +“If so, Merapi is blameless, because she has gone away from this +city.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course she has gone away, for has not Seti gone also? But I think she +left something behind her. However that may be, even our new divine lord is +afraid. He dreams ill, Ana,” he added, dropping his voice, “so ill +that he has called in Ki, the Kherheb,<a href="#fn1" name="fnref1" id="fnref1"><sup>[1]</sup></a> +to interpret his visions.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn1" id="fn1"></a> <a href="#fnref1">[1]</a> +“Kherheb” was the title of the chief official magician in ancient Egypt. +</p> + +<p> +“And what said Ki?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ki could say nothing or, rather, that the only answer vouchsafed to him +and his company, when they made inquiry of their Kas, was that this god’s +reign would be very short and that it and his life would end together.” +</p> + +<p> +“Which perhaps did not please the god Amenmeses, Bakenkhonsu?” +</p> + +<p> +“Which did not please the god at all. He threatened Ki. It is a foolish +thing to threaten a great magician, Ana, as the Kherheb Ki, himself indeed told +him, looking him in the eyes. Then he prayed his pardon and asked who would +succeed him on the throne, but Ki said he did not know, as a Kherheb who had +been threatened could never remember anything, which indeed he never +can—except to pay back the threatener.” +</p> + +<p> +“And did he know, Bakenkhonsu?” +</p> + +<p> +By way of answer the old Councillor crumbled some bread fine upon the table, +then with his finger traced among the crumbs the rough likeness of a +jackal-headed god and of two feathers, after which with a swift movement he +swept the crumbs onto the floor. +</p> + +<p> +“Seti!” I whispered, reading the hieroglyphs of the Prince’s +name, and he nodded and laughed in his great fashion. +</p> + +<p> +“Men come to their own sometimes, Ana, especially if they do not seek +their own,” he said. “But if so, much must happen first that is +terrible. The new Pharaoh is not the only man who dreams, Ana. Of late years my +sleep has been light and sometimes I dream, though I have no magic like to that +of Ki.” +</p> + +<p> +“What did you dream?” +</p> + +<p> +“I dreamed of a great multitude marching like locusts over Egypt. Before +them went a column of fire in which were two hands. One of these held Amon by +the throat and one held the new Pharaoh by the throat. After them came a column +of cloud, and in it a shape like to that of an unwrapped mummy, a shape of +death standing upon water that was full of countless dead.” +</p> + +<p> +Now I bethought me of the picture that the Prince and I had seen in the skies +yonder in the land of Goshen, but of it I said nothing. Yet I think that +Bakenkhonsu saw into my mind, for he asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Do <i>you</i> never dream, Friend? You see visions that come +true—Amenmeses on the throne, for instance. Do you not also dream at +times? No? Well, then, the Prince? You look like men who might, and the time is +ripe and pregnant. Oh! I remember. You are both of you dreaming, not of the +pictures that pass across the terrible eyes of Ki, but of those that the moon +reflects upon the waters of Memphis, the Moon of Israel. Ana, be advised by me, +put away the flesh and increase the spirit, for in it alone is happiness, +whereof woman and all our joys are but earthly symbols, shadows thrown by that +mortal cloud which lies between us and the Light Above. I see that you +understand, because some of that light has struggled to your heart. Do you +remember that you saw it shining in the hour when your little daughter died? +Ah! I thought so. It was the gift she left you, a gift that will grow and grow +in such a breast as yours, if only you will put away the flesh and make room +for it, Ana. Man, do not weep—laugh as I do, Oho-ho! Give me my staff, +and good-night. Forget not that we sit together at the crowning to-morrow, for +you are a King’s Companion and that rank once conferred is one which no +new Pharaoh can take away. It is like the gift of the spirit, Ana, which is +hard to win, but once won more eternal than the stars. Oh! why do I live so +long who would bathe in it, as when a child I used to bathe in Nile?” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +On the following day at the appointed hour I went to the great hall of the +palace, that in which I had first seen Meneptah, and took my stand in the place +allotted to me. It was somewhat far back, perhaps because it was not wished +that I, who was known to be the private scribe of Seti, should remind Egypt of +him by appearing where all could see me. +</p> + +<p> +Great as was the hall the crowd filled it to its furthest corners. Moreover no +common man was present there, but rather every noble and head-priest in Egypt, +and with them their wives and daughters, so that all the dim courts shone with +gold and precious gems set upon festal garments. While I was waiting old +Bakenkhonsu hobbled towards me, the crowd making way for him, and I could see +that there was laughter in his sunken eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“We are ill-placed, Ana,” he said. “Still if any of the many +gods there are in Egypt should chance to rain fires on Pharaoh, we shall be the +safer. Talking of gods,” he went on in a whisper, “have you heard +what happened an hour ago in the temple of Ptah of Tanis whence I have just +come? Pharaoh and all the Blood-royal—save one—walked according to +custom before the statue of the god which, as you know, should bow its head to +show that he chooses and accepts the king. In front of Amenmeses went the +Princess Userti, and as she passed the head of the god bowed, for I saw it, +though all pretended that they did not see. Then came Pharaoh and stood +waiting, but it would not bow, though the priests called in the old formula, +‘The god greets the king.’ +</p> + +<p> +“At length he went on, looking as black as night, and others of the blood +of Rameses followed in their order. Last of all limped Saptah and, behold! the +god bowed again.” +</p> + +<p> +“How and why does it do these things?” I asked, “and at the +wrong time?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ask the priests, Ana, or Userti, or Saptah. Perhaps the divine neck has +not been oiled of late, or too much oiled, or too little oiled, or +prayers—or strings—may have gone wrong. Or Pharaoh may have been +niggard in his gifts to that college of the great god of his House. Who am I +that I should know the ways of gods? That in the temple where I served at +Thebes fifty years ago did not pretend to bow or to trouble himself as to which +of the royal race sat upon the throne. Hush! Here comes Pharaoh.” +</p> + +<p> +Then in a splendid procession, surrounded by princes, councillors, ladies, +priests, and guards, Amenmeses and the Royal Wife, Urnure, a large woman who +walked awkwardly, entered the hall, a glittering band. The high-priest, Roi, +and the chancellor, Nehesi, received Pharaoh and led him to his throne. The +multitude prostrated itself, trumpets blew and thrice the old salute of +“Life! Blood! Strength! Pharaoh! Pharaoh! Pharaoh!” was cried aloud. +</p> + +<p> +Amenmeses rose and bowed, and I saw that his heavy face was troubled and looked +older. Then he swore some oath to gods and men which Roi dictated to him, and +before all the company put on the double crown and the other emblems, and took +in his hands the scourge and golden sickle. Next homage was paid. The Princess +Userti came first and kissed Pharaoh’s hand, but bent no knee. Indeed +first she spoke with him a while. We could not hear what was said, but +afterwards learned that she demanded that he should publicly repeat all the +promises which her father Meneptah had made to her before him, confirming her +in her place and rights. This in the end he did, though it seemed to me +unwillingly enough. +</p> + +<p> +So with many forms and ancient celebrations the ceremony went on, till all grew +weary waiting for that time when Pharaoh should make his speech to the people. +That speech, however, was never made, for presently, thrusting past us, I saw +those two prophets of the Israelites who had visited Meneptah in this same +hall. Men shrank from them, so that they walked straight up to the throne, nor +did even the guards strive to bar their way. What they said there I could not +hear, but I believe that they demanded that their people should be allowed to +go to worship their god in their own fashion, and that Amenmeses refused as +Meneptah had done. +</p> + +<p> +Then one of them cast down a rod and it turned to a snake which hissed at +Pharaoh, whereon the Kherheb Ki and his company also cast down rods that turned +to snakes, though I could only hear the hissing. After this a great gloom fell +upon the hall, so that men could not see each other’s faces and everyone +began to call aloud till the company broke up in confusion. Bakenkhonsu and I +were borne together to the doorway by the pressure of the people, whence we +were glad enough to see the sky again. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Thus ended the crowning of Amenmeses. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap12"></a>CHAPTER XII.<br /> +THE MESSAGE OF JABEZ</h2> + +<p> +That night there were none who rejoiced in the streets of the city, and save in +the palace and houses of those of the Court, none who feasted. I walked abroad +in the market-place and noted the people going to and fro gloomily, or talking +together in whispers. Presently a man whose face was hidden in a hood began to +speak with me, saying that he had a message for my master, the Prince Seti. I +answered that I took no messages from veiled strangers, whereon he threw back +his hood, and I saw that it was Jabez, the uncle of Merapi. I asked him whether +he had obeyed the Prince, and borne the body of that prophet back to Goshen and +told the elders of the manner of the man’s death. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he answered, “nor were the Elders angry with the +Prince over this matter. They said that their messenger had exceeded his +authority, since they had never told him to curse Merapi, and much less attempt +to kill her, and that the Prince did right to slay one who would have done +murder before his royal eyes. Still they added that the curse, having once been +spoken by this priest, would surely fall upon Merapi in this way or in +that.” +</p> + +<p> +“What then should she do, Jabez?” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know, Scribe. If she returns to her people, perchance she will +be absolved, but then she must surely marry Laban. It is for her to +judge.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what would you do if you were in her place, Jabez?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think that I should stay where I was, and make myself very dear to +Seti, taking the chance that the curse may pass her by, since it was not +lawfully decreed upon her. Whichever way she looks, trouble waits, and at the +worst, a woman might wish to satisfy her heart before it falls, especially if +that heart should happen to turn to one who will be Pharaoh.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you say ‘who will be Pharaoh,’ Jabez?” I asked, +for we were standing in an empty place alone. +</p> + +<p> +“That I may not tell you,” he replied cunningly, “yet it will +come about as I say. He who sits upon the throne is mad as Meneptah was mad, +and will fight against a strength that is greater than his until it overwhelms +him. In the Prince’s heart alone does the light of wisdom shine. That +which you saw to-day is only the first of many miracles, Scribe Ana. I can say +no more.” +</p> + +<p> +“What then is your message, Jabez?” +</p> + +<p> +“This: Because the Prince has striven to deal well with the people of +Israel and for their sake has cast aside a crown, whatever may chance to +others, let him fear nothing. No harm shall come to him, or to those about him, +such as yourself, Scribe Ana, who also would deal justly by us. Yet it may +happen that through my niece Merapi, on whose head the evil word has fallen, a +great sorrow may come to both him and her. Therefore, perhaps, although setting +this against that, she may be wise to stay in the house of Seti, he, on the +balance, may be wise to turn her from his doors.” +</p> + +<p> +“What sorrow?” I asked, who grew bewildered with his dark talk, but +there was no answer, for he had gone. +</p> + +<p> +Near to my lodging another man met me, and the moonlight shining on his face +showed me the terrible eyes of Ki. +</p> + +<p> +“Scribe Ana,” he said, “you leave for Memphis to-morrow at +the dawn, and not two days hence as you purposed.” +</p> + +<p> +“How do you know that, Magician Ki?” I answered, for I had told my +change of plan to none, not even to Bakenkhonsu, having indeed only determined +upon it since Jabez left me. +</p> + +<p> +“I know nothing, Ana, save that a faithful servant who has learned all +you have learned to-day will hurry to make report of it to his master, +especially if there is some other to whom he would also wish to make report, as +Bakenkhonsu thinks.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bakenkhonsu talks too much, whatever he may think,” I exclaimed +testily. +</p> + +<p> +“The aged grow garrulous. You were at the crowning to-day, were you +not?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and if I saw aright from far away, those Hebrew prophets seemed to +worst you at your own trade there, Kherheb, which must grieve you, as you were +grieved in the temple when Amon fell.” +</p> + +<p> +“It does not grieve me, Ana. If I have powers, there may be others who +have greater powers, as I learned in the temple of Amon. Why therefore should I +feel ashamed?” +</p> + +<p> +“Powers!” I replied with a laugh, for the strings of my mind seemed +torn that night, “would not craft be a better word? How do you turn a +stick into a snake, a thing which is impossible to man?” +</p> + +<p> +“Craft might be a better word, since craft means knowledge as well as +trickery. ‘Impossible to man!’ After what you saw a while ago in +the temple of Amon, do you hold that there is anything impossible to man or +woman? Perhaps you could do as much yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you mock me, Ki? I study books, not snake-charming.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked at me in his calm fashion, as though he were reading, not my face, +but the thoughts behind it. Then he looked at the cedar wand in his hand and +gave it to me, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“Study this, Ana, and tell me, what is it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Am I a child,” I answered angrily, “that I should not know a +priest’s rod when I see one?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think that you are something of a child, Ana,” he murmured, all +the while keeping those eyes of his fixed upon my face. +</p> + +<p> +Then a horror came about. For the rod began to twist in my hand and when I +stared at it, lo! it was a long, yellow snake which I held by the tail. I threw +the reptile down with a scream, for it was turning its head as though to strike +me, and there in the dust it twisted and writhed away from me and towards Ki. +Yet an instant later it was only a stick of yellow cedar-wood, though between +me and Ki there was a snake’s track in the sand. +</p> + +<p> +“It is somewhat shameless of you, Ana,” said Ki, as he lifted the +wand, “to reproach me with trickery while you yourself try to confound a +poor juggler with such arts as these.” +</p> + +<p> +Then I know not what I said to him, save the end of it was that I supposed he +would tell me next that I could fill a hall with darkness at noonday and cover +a multitude with terror. +</p> + +<p> +“Let us have done with jests,” he said, “though these are +well enough in their place. Will you take this rod again and point it to the +moon? You refuse and you do well, for neither you nor I can cover up her face. +Ana, because you are wise in your way and consort with one who is wiser, and +were present in the temple when the statue of Amon was shattered by a certain +witch who matched her strength against mine and conquered me, I, the great +magician, have come to ask <i>you</i>—whence came that darkness in the +hall to-day?” +</p> + +<p> +“From God, I think,” I answered in an awed whisper. +</p> + +<p> +“So I think also, Ana. But tell me, or ask Merapi, Moon of Israel, to +tell me—from what god? Oh! I say to you that a terrible power is afoot in +this land and that the Prince Seti did well to refuse the throne of Egypt and +to fly to Memphis. Repeat it to him, Ana.” +</p> + +<p> +Then he too was gone. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Now I returned in safety to Memphis and told all these tidings to the Prince, +who listened to them eagerly. Once only was he greatly stirred; it was when I +repeated to him the words of Userti, that never would she look upon his face +again unless it pleased him to turn it towards the throne. On hearing this +tears came into his eyes, and rising, he walked up and down the chamber. +</p> + +<p> +“The fallen must not look for gentleness,” he said, “and +doubtless, Ana, you think it folly that I should grieve because I am thus +deserted.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, Prince, for I too have been abandoned by a wife and the pain is +unforgotten.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is not of the wife I think, Ana, since in truth her Highness is no +wife to me. For whatever may be the ancient laws of Egypt, how could it happen +otherwise, at any rate in my case and hers? It is of the sister. For though my +mother was not hers, she and I were brought up together and in our way loved +each other, though always it was her pleasure to lord it over me, as it was +mine to submit and pay her back in jests. That is why she is so angry because +now of a sudden I have thrown off her rule to follow my own will whereby she +has lost the throne.” +</p> + +<p> +“It has always been the duty of the royal heiress of Egypt to marry the +Pharaoh of Egypt, Prince, and having wed one who would be Pharaoh according to +that duty, the blow cuts deep.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then she had best thrust aside that foolish wife of his and wed him who +is Pharaoh. But that she will never do; Amenmeses she has always hated, so much +that she loathed to be in the same place with him. Nor indeed would he wed her, +who wishes to rule for himself, not through a woman whose title to the crown is +better than his own. Well, she has put me away and there’s an end. +Henceforth I must go lonely, unless—unless——Continue your +story, friend. It is kind of her in her greatness to promise to protect one so +humble. I should remember that, although it is true that fallen heads sometimes +rise again,” he added bitterly. +</p> + +<p> +“So at least Jabez thinks, Prince,” and I told him how the +Israelites were sure that he would be Pharaoh, whereat he laughed and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps, for they are good prophets. For my part I neither know or care. +Or maybe Jabez sees advantage in talking thus, for as you know he is a clever +trader.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not think so,” I answered and stopped. +</p> + +<p> +“Had Jabez more to say of any other matter, Ana? Of the lady Merapi, for +instance?” +</p> + +<p> +Now feeling it to be my duty, I told him every word that had passed between +Jabez and myself, though somewhat shamefacedly. +</p> + +<p> +“This Hebrew takes much for granted, Ana, even as to whom the Moon of +Israel would wish to shine upon. Why, friend, it might be you whom she desires +to touch with her light, or some youth in Goshen—not Laban—or no +one.” +</p> + +<p> +“Me, Prince, me!” I exclaimed. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Ana, I am sure you would have it so. Be advised by me and ask her +mind upon the matter. Look not so confused, man, for one who has been married +you are too modest. Come tell me of this Crowning.” +</p> + +<p> +So glad enough to escape from the matter of Merapi, I spoke at length of all +that had happened when Pharaoh Amenmeses took his seat upon the throne. When I +described how the rod of the Hebrew prophet had been turned to a snake and how +Ki and his company had done likewise, the Prince laughed and said that these +were mere jugglers’ tricks. But when I told of the darkness that had +seemed to gather in the hall and of the gloom that filled the hearts of all men +and of the awesome dream of Bakenkhonsu, also of the words of Ki after he had +clouded my mind and played his jest upon me, he listened with much earnestness +and answered: +</p> + +<p> +“My mind is as Ki’s in this matter. I too think that a terrible +power is afoot in Egypt, one that has its home in the land of Goshen, and that +I did well to refuse the throne. But from what god these fortunes come I do not +know. Perhaps time will tell us. Meanwhile if there is aught in the prophesies +of these Hebrews, as interpreted by Jabez, at least you and I may sleep in +peace, which is more than will chance to Pharaoh on the throne that Userti +covets. If so, this play will be worth the watching. You have done your mission +well, Ana. Go rest you while I think over all that you have said.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +It was evening and as the palace was very hot I went into the garden and making +my way to that little pleasure-house where Seti and I were wont to study, I sat +myself down there and, being weary, fell asleep. When I awoke from a dream +about some woman who was weeping, night had fallen and the full moon shone in +the sky, so that its rays fell on the garden before me. +</p> + +<p> +Now in front of this little house, as I have said, grew trees that at this +season of the year were covered with white and cup-like blossoms, and between +these trees was a seat built up of sun-dried bricks. On this seat sat a woman +whom I knew from her shape to be Merapi. Also she was sad, for although her +head was bowed and her long hair hid her face I could hear her gentle sighs. +</p> + +<p> +The sight of her moved me very much and I remembered what the Prince had said +to me, telling me that I should do well to ask this lady whether she had any +mind my way. Therefore if I did so, surely I could not be blamed. Yet I was +certain that it was not to me that her heart turned, though to speak the truth, +much I wished it otherwise. Who would look at the ibis in the swamp when the +wide-winged eagle floated in heaven above? +</p> + +<p> +An evil thought came into my mind, sent by Set. Suppose that this +watcher’s eyes were fixed upon the eagle, lord of the air. Suppose that +she worshipped this eagle; that she loved it because its home was heaven, +because to her it was the king of all the birds. And suppose one told her that +if she lured it down to earth from the glorious safety of the skies, she would +bring it to captivity or death at the hand of the snarer. Then would not that +loving watcher say: “Let it go free and happy, however much I long to +look upon it,” and when it had sailed from sight, perhaps turn her eyes +to the humble ibis in the mud? +</p> + +<p> +Jabez had told me that if this woman and the Prince grew dear to each other she +would bring great sorrow on his head. If I repeated his words to her, she who +had faith in the prophecies of her people would certainly believe them. +Moreover, whatever her heart might prompt, being so high-natured, never would +she consent to do what might bring trouble on Seti’s head, even if to +refuse him should sink her soul in sorrow. Nor would she return to the Hebrews +there to fall into the hands of one she hated. Then perhaps I——. +Should I tell her? If Jabez had not meant that the matter must be brought to +her ears, would he have spoken of it at all? In short was it not my duty to +her, and perhaps also to the Prince who thereby might be saved from miseries to +come, that is if this talk of future troubles were anything more than an idle +story. +</p> + +<p> +Such was the evil reasoning with which Set assailed my spirit. How I beat it +down I do not know. Not by my own goodness, I am sure, since at the moment I +was aflame with love for the sweet and beautiful lady who sat before me and in +my foolishness would, I think, have given my life to kiss her hand. Not +altogether for her sake either, since passion is very selfish. No, I believe it +was because the love that I bore the Prince was more deep and real than that +which I could feel for any woman, and I knew well that were she not in my sight +no such treachery would have overcome my heart. For I was sure, although he had +never said so to me, that Seti loved Merapi and above all earthly things +desired her as his companion, while if once I spoke those words, whatever my +own gain or loss and whatever her secret wish, that she would never be. +</p> + +<p> +So I conquered, though the victory left me trembling like a child, and wishing +that I had not been born to know the pangs of love denied. My reward was very +swift, for just then Merapi unfastened a gem from the breast of her white robe +and held it towards the moon, as though to study it. In an instant I knew it +again. It was that royal scarab of lapis-lazuli with which in Goshen the Prince +had made fast the bandage on her wounded foot, which also had been snatched +from her breast by some power on that night when the statue of Amon was +shattered in the temple. +</p> + +<p> +Long and earnestly she looked at it, then having glanced round to make sure she +was alone, she pressed it to her lips and kissed it thrice with passion, +muttering I know not what between the kisses. Now the scales fell from my eyes +and I knew that she loved Seti, and oh! how I thanked my guardian god who had +saved me from such useless shame. +</p> + +<p> +I wiped the cold damp from my brow and was about to flee away, discovering +myself with as few words as might be, when, looking up, I saw standing behind +Merapi the figure of a man, who was watching her replace the ornament in her +robe. While I hesitated a moment the man spoke and I knew the voice for that of +Seti. Then again I thought of flight, but being somewhat timid by nature, +feared to show myself until it was too late, thinking that afterward the Prince +would make me the target of his wit. So I sat close and still, hearing and +seeing all despite myself. +</p> + +<p> +“What gem is that, Lady, which you admire and cherish so tenderly?” +asked Seti in his slow voice that so often hid a hint of laughter. +</p> + +<p> +She uttered a little scream and springing up, saw him. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! my lord,” she exclaimed, “pardon your servant. I was +sitting here in the cool, as you gave me leave to do, and the moon was so +bright—that—I wished to see if by it I could read the writing on +this scarab.” +</p> + +<p> +Never before, thought I to myself, did I know one who read with her lips, +though it is true that first she used her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“And could you, Lady? Will you suffer me to try?” +</p> + +<p> +Very slowly and colouring, so that even the moonlight showed her blushes, she +withdrew the ornament again and held it towards him. +</p> + +<p> +“Surely this is familiar to me? Have I not seen it before?” he +asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps. I wore it that night in the temple, your Highness.” +</p> + +<p> +“You must not name me Highness, Lady. I have no longer any rank in +Egypt.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know—because of—my people. Oh! it was noble.” +</p> + +<p> +“But about the scarabæus——” he broke in, with a wave +of his hand. “Surely it is the same with which the bandage was made fast +upon your hurt—oh! years ago?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, it is the same,” she answered, looking down. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought it. And when I gave it to you, I said some words that seemed +to me well spoken at the time. What were they? I cannot remember. Have you also +forgotten?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—I mean—no. You said that now I had all Egypt beneath my +foot, speaking of the royal cartouche upon the scarab.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! I recall. How true, and yet how false the jest, or prophecy.” +</p> + +<p> +“How can anything be both true and false, Prince?” +</p> + +<p> +“That I could prove to you very easily, but it would take an hour or +more, so it shall be for another time. This scarab is a poor thing, give it +back to me and you shall have a better. Or would you choose this signet? As I +am no longer Prince of Egypt it is useless to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Keep the scarab, Prince. It is your own. But I will not take the ring +because it is——” +</p> + +<p> +“——useless to me, and you would not have that which is +without value to the giver. Oh! I string words ill, but they were not what I +meant.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, Prince, because your royal ring is too large for one so small.” +</p> + +<p> +“How can you tell until you have tried? Also that is a fault which might +perhaps be mended.” +</p> + +<p> +Then he laughed, and she laughed also, but as yet she did not take the ring. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you seen Ana?” he went on. “I believe he set out to +search for you, in such a hurry indeed that he could scarcely finish his report +to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did he say that?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, he only looked it. So much so that I suggested he should seek you at +once. He answered that he was going to rest after his long journey, or perhaps +I said that he ought to do so. I forget, as often one does, on so beauteous a +night when other thoughts seem nearer.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why did Ana wish to see me, Prince?” +</p> + +<p> +“How can I tell? Why does a man who is still young—want to see a +sweet and beautiful lady? Oh! I remember. He had met your uncle at Tanis who +inquired as to your health. Perhaps that is why he wanted to see you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not wish to hear about my uncle at Tanis. He reminds me of too many +things that give pain, and there are nights when one wishes to escape pain, +which is sure to be found again on the morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you still of the same mind about returning to your people?” he +asked, more earnestly. +</p> + +<p> +“Surely. Oh! do not say that you will send me hence +to——” +</p> + +<p> +“Laban, Lady?” +</p> + +<p> +“Laban amongst others. Remember, Prince, that I am one under a curse. If +I return to Goshen, in this way or in that, soon I shall die.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ana says that your uncle Jabez declares that the mad fellow who tried to +murder you had no authority to curse and much less to kill you. You must ask +him to tell you all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yet the curse will cling and crush me at the last. How can I, one lonely +woman, stand against the might of the people of Israel and their priests?” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you then lonely?” +</p> + +<p> +“How can it be otherwise with an outcast, Prince?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, it cannot be otherwise. I know it who am also an outcast.” +</p> + +<p> +“At least there is her Highness your wife, who doubtless will come to +comfort you,” she said, looking down. +</p> + +<p> +“Her Highness will not come. If you had seen Ana, he would perhaps have +told you that she has sworn not to look upon my face again, unless above it +shines a crown.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! how can a woman be so cruel? Surely, Prince, such a stab must cut +you to the heart,” she exclaimed, with a little cry of pity. +</p> + +<p> +“Her Highness is not only a woman; she is a Princess of Egypt which is +different. For the rest it does cut me to the heart that my royal sister should +have deserted me, for that which she loves better—power and pomp. But so +it is, unless Ana dreams. It seems therefore that we are in the same case, both +outcasts, you and I, is it not so?” +</p> + +<p> +She made no answer but continued to look upon the ground, and he went on very +slowly: +</p> + +<p> +“A thought comes into my mind on which I would ask your judgment. If two +who are forlorn came together they would be less forlorn by half, would they +not?” +</p> + +<p> +“It would seem so, Prince—that is if they remained forlorn at all. +But I do not understand the riddle.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yet you have answered it. If you are lonely and I am lonely apart, we +should, you say, be less lonely together.” +</p> + +<p> +“Prince,” she murmured, shrinking away from him, “I spoke no +such words.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I spoke them for you. Hearken to me, Merapi. They think me a strange +man in Egypt because I have held no woman dear, never having seen one whom I +could hold dear.” Here she looked at him searchingly, and he went on, +“A while ago, before I visited your land of Goshen—Ana can tell you +about the matter, for I think he wrote it down—Ki and old Bakenkhonsu +came to see me. Now, as you know, Ki is without doubt a great magician, though +it would seem not so great as some of your prophets. He told me that he and +others had been searching out my future and that in Goshen I should find a +woman whom it was fated I must love. He added that this woman would bring me +much joy.” Here Seti paused, doubtless remembering this was not all that +Ki had said, or Jabez either. “Ki told me also,” he went on slowly, +“that I had already known this woman for thousands of years.” +</p> + +<p> +She started and a strange look came into her face. +</p> + +<p> +“How can that be, Prince?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is what I asked him and got no good answer. Still he said it, not +only of the woman but of my friend Ana as well, which indeed would explain +much, and it would appear that the other magicians said it also. Then I went to +the land of Goshen and there I saw a woman——” +</p> + +<p> +“For the first time, Prince?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, for the third time.” +</p> + +<p> +Here she sank upon the bench and covered her eyes with her hands. +</p> + +<p> +“——and loved her, and felt as though I had loved her for +‘thousands of years.’” +</p> + +<p> +“It is not true. You mock me, it is not true!” she whispered. +</p> + +<p> +“It is true for if I did not know it then, I knew it afterwards, though +never perhaps completely until to-day, when I learned that Userti had deserted +me indeed. Moon of Israel, you are that woman. I will not tell you,” he +went on passionately, “that you are fairer than all other women, or +sweeter, or more wise, though these things you seem to me. I will only tell you +that I love you, yes, love you, whatever you may be. I cannot offer you the +Throne of Egypt, even if the law would suffer it, but I can offer you the +throne of this heart of mine. Now, Lady Merapi, what have you to say? Before +you speak, remember that although you seem to be my prisoner here at Memphis, +you have naught to fear from me. Whatever you may answer, such shelter and such +friendship as I can give will be yours while I live, and never shall I attempt +to force myself upon you, however much it may pain me to pass you by. I know +not the future. It may happen that I shall give you great place and power, it +may happen that I shall give you nothing but poverty and exile, or even perhaps +a share in my own death, but with either will go the worship of my body and my +spirit. Now, speak.” +</p> + +<p> +She dropped her hands from her face, looking up at him, and there were tears +shining in her beautiful eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“It cannot be, Prince,” she murmured. +</p> + +<p> +“You mean you do not wish it to be?” +</p> + +<p> +“I said that it cannot be. Such ties between an Egyptian and an Israelite +are not lawful.” +</p> + +<p> +“Some in this city and elsewhere seem to find them so.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I am married, I mean perhaps I am married—at least in +name.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I too am married, I mean——” +</p> + +<p> +“That is different. Also there is another reason, the greatest of all, I +am under a curse, and should bring you, not joy as Ki said, but sorrow, or, at +the least, sorrow with the joy.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked at her searchingly. +</p> + +<p> +“Has Ana——” he began, then continued, “if so what +lives have you known that are not compounded of mingled joy and sorrow?” +</p> + +<p> +“None. But the woe I should bring would outweigh the joy—to you. +The curse of my God rests upon me and I cannot learn to worship yours. The +curse of my people rests upon me, the law of my people divides me from you as +with a sword, and should I draw close to you these will be increased upon my +head, which matters not, but also upon yours,” and she began to sob. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me,” he said, taking her by the hand, “but one thing, +and if the answer is No, I will trouble you no more. Is your heart mine?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is,” she sighed, “and has been ever since my eyes fell +upon you yonder in the streets of Tanis. Oh! then a change came into me and I +hated Laban, whom before I had only misliked. Moreover, I too felt that of +which Ki spoke, as though I had known you for thousands of years. My heart is +yours, my love is yours; all that makes me woman is yours, and never, never can +turn from you to any other man. But still we must stay apart, for your sake, my +Prince, for your sake.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then, were it not for me, you would be ready to run these hazards?” +</p> + +<p> +“Surely! Am I not a woman who loves?” +</p> + +<p> +“If that be so,” he said with a little laugh, “being of full +age and of an understanding which some have thought good, by your leave I think +I will run them also. Oh! foolish woman, do you not understand that there is +but one good thing in the world, one thing in which self and its miseries can +be forgot, and that thing is love? Mayhap troubles will come. Well, let them +come, for what do they matter if only the love or its memory remains, if once +we have picked that beauteous flower and for an hour worn it on our breasts. +You talk of the difference between the gods we worship and maybe it exists, but +all gods send their gifts of love upon the earth, without which it would cease +to be. Moreover, my faith teaches me more clearly perhaps than yours, that life +does not end with death and therefore that love, being life’s soul, must +endure while it endures. Last of all, I think, as you think, that in some dim +way there is truth in what the magicians said, and that long ago in the past we +have been what once more we are about to be, and that the strength of this +invisible tie has drawn us together out of the whole world and will bind us +together long after the world is dead. It is not a matter of what we wish to +do, Merapi, it is a matter of what Fate has decreed we shall do. Now, answer +again.” +</p> + +<p> +But she made no answer, and when I looked up after a little moment she was in +his arms and her lips were upon his lips. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Thus did Prince Seti of Egypt and Merapi, Moon of Israel, come together at +Memphis in Egypt. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap13"></a>CHAPTER XIII.<br /> +THE RED NILE</h2> + +<p> +On the morrow of this night I found the Prince alone for a little while, and +put him in mind of certain ancient manuscripts that he wished to read, which +could only be consulted at Thebes where I might copy them; also of others that +were said to be for sale there. He answered that they could wait, but I replied +that the latter might find some other purchaser if I did not go at once. +</p> + +<p> +“You are over fond of long journeys upon my business, Ana,” he +said. Then he considered me curiously for a while, and since he could read my +mind, as indeed I could his, saw that I knew all, and added in a gentle voice: +</p> + +<p> +“You should have done as I told you, and spoken first. If so, who +knows——” +</p> + +<p> +“You do, Prince,” I answered, “you and another.” +</p> + +<p> +“Go, and the gods be with you, friend, but stay not too long copying +those rolls, which any scribe can do. I think there is trouble at hand in +Egypt, and I shall need you at my side. Another who holds you dear will need +you also.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thank my lord and that other,” I said, bowing, and went. +</p> + +<p> +Moreover, while I was making some humble provision for my journey, I found that +this was needless, since a slave came to tell me that the Prince’s barge +was waiting to sail with the wind. So in that barge I travelled to Thebes like +a great noble, or a royal mummy being borne to burial. Only instead of wailing +priests, until I sent them back to Memphis, musicians sat upon the prow, and +when I willed, dancing girls came to amuse my leisure and, veiled in golden +nets, to serve at my table. +</p> + +<p> +So I journeyed as though I were the Prince himself, and as one who was known to +have his ear was made much of by the governors of the Nomes, the chief men of +the towns, and the high priests of the temples at every city where we moored. +For, as I have said, although Amenmeses sat upon the throne, Seti still ruled +in the hearts of the folk of Egypt. Moreover, as I sailed further up the Nile +to districts where little was known of the Israelites, and the troubles they +were bringing on the land, I found this to be so more and more. Why is it, the +Great Ones would whisper in my ear, that his Highness the Prince Seti does not +hold his father’s place? Then I would tell them of the Hebrews, and they +would laugh and say: +</p> + +<p> +“Let the Prince unfurl his royal banner here, and we will show him what +we think of the question of these Israelitish slaves. May not the Heir of Egypt +form his own judgment on such a matter as to whether they should abide there in +the north, or go away into that wilderness which they desire?” +</p> + +<p> +To all of which, and much like it, I would only answer that their words should +be reported. More I did not, and indeed did not dare to say, since everywhere I +found that I was being followed and watched by the spies of Pharaoh. +</p> + +<p> +At length I came to Thebes and took up my abode in a fine house that was the +property of the Prince, which I found that a messenger had commanded should be +made ready for me. It stood near by the entrance to the Avenue of Sphinxes, +which leads to the greatest of all the Theban temples, where is that mighty +columned hall built by the first Seti and his son, Rameses II, the +Prince’s grandfather. +</p> + +<p> +Here, having entrance to the place, I would often wander at night, and in my +spirit draw as near to heaven as ever it has been my lot to travel. Also, +crossing the Nile to the western bank, I visited that desolate valley where the +rulers of Egypt lie at rest. The tomb of Pharaoh Meneptah was still unsealed, +and accompanied by a single priest with torches, I crept down its painted halls +and looked upon the sarcophagus of him whom so lately I had seen seated in +glory upon the throne, wondering, as I looked, how much or how little he knew +of all that passed in Egypt to-day. +</p> + +<p> +Moreover, I copied the papyri that I had come to seek, in which there was +nothing worth preserving, and some of real value that I discovered in the +ancient libraries of the temples, and purchased others. One of these indeed +told a very strange tale that has given me much cause for thought, especially +of late years now when all my friends are dead. +</p> + +<p> +Thus I spent two months, and should have stayed longer had not messengers +reached me from the Prince saying that he desired my return. Of these, one +followed within three days of the other, and his words were: +</p> + +<p> +“Think you, Scribe Ana, that because I am no more Prince of Egypt I am no +longer to be obeyed? If so, bear in mind that the gods may decree that one day +I shall grow taller than ever I was before, and then be sure that I will +remember your disobedience, and make you shorter by a head. Come swiftly, my +friend, for I grow lonely, and need a man to talk with.” +</p> + +<p> +To which I replied, that I returned as fast as the barge would carry me, being +so heavily laden with the manuscripts that I had copied and purchased. +</p> + +<p> +So I started, being, to tell truth, glad to get away, for this reason. Two +nights before, when I was walking alone from the great temple of the house, a +woman dressed in many colours appeared and accosted me as such lost ones do. I +tried to shake her off, but she clung to me, and I saw that she had drunk more +than enough of wine. Presently she asked, in a voice that I thought familiar, +if I knew who was the officer that had come to Thebes on the business of some +Royal One and abode in the dwelling that was known as House of the Prince. I +answered that his name was Ana. +</p> + +<p> +“Once I knew an Ana very well,” she said, “but I left +him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why?” I asked, turning cold in my limbs, for although I could not +see her face because of a hood she wore, now I began to be afraid. +</p> + +<p> +“Because he was a poor fool,” she answered, “no man at all, +but one who was always thinking about writings and making them, and another +came my way whom I liked better until he deserted me.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what happened to this Ana?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know. I suppose he went on dreaming, or perhaps he took another +wife; if so, I am sorry for her. Only, if by chance it is the same that has +come to Thebes, he must be wealthy now, and I shall go and claim him and make +him keep me well.” +</p> + +<p> +“Had you any children?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Only one, thank the gods, and that died—thank the gods again, for +otherwise it might have lived to be such as I am,” and she sobbed once in +a hard fashion and then fell to her vile endearments. +</p> + +<p> +As she did so, the hood slipped from her head and I saw that the face was that +of my wife, still beauteous in a bold fashion, but grown dreadful with drink +and sin. I trembled from head to foot, then said in the disguised voice that I +had used to her. +</p> + +<p> +“Woman, I know this Ana. He is dead and you were his ruin. Still, because +I was his friend, take this and go reform your ways,” and I drew from my +robe and gave to her a bag containing no mean weight of gold. +</p> + +<p> +She snatched it as a hawk snatches, and seeing its contents by the starlight, +thanked me, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“Surely Ana dead is worth more than Ana alive. Also it is well that he is +dead, for he is gone where the child went, which he loved more than life, +neglecting me for its sake and thereby making me what I am. Had he lived, too, +being as I have said a fool, he would have had more ill-luck with women, whom +he never understood. Farewell, friend of Ana, who have given me that which will +enable me to find another husband,” and laughing wildly she reeled off +behind a sphinx and vanished into the darkness. +</p> + +<p> +For this reason, then, I was glad to escape from Thebes. Moreover, that +miserable one had hurt me sorely, making me sure of what I had only guessed, +namely, that with women I was but a fool, so great a fool that then and there I +swore by my guardian god that never would I look with love on one of them +again, an oath which I have kept well whatever others I may have broken. Again +she stabbed me through with the talk of our dead child, for it is true that +when that sweet one took flight to Osiris my heart broke and in a fashion has +never mended itself again. Lastly, I feared lest it might also be true that I +had neglected the mother for the sake of this child which was the jewel of my +worship, yes, and is, and thereby helped her on to shame. So much did this +thought torment me that through an agent whom I trusted, who believed that I +was but providing for one whom I had wronged, I caused enough to be paid to her +to keep her in comfort. +</p> + +<p> +She did marry again, a merchant about whom she had cast her toils, and in due +course spent his wealth and brought him to ruin, after which he ran away from +her. As for her, she died of her evil habits in the third year of the reign of +Seti II. But, the gods be thanked she never knew that the private scribe of +Pharaoh’s chamber was that Ana who had been her husband. Here I will end +her story. +</p> + +<p> +Now as I was passing down the Nile with a heart more heavy than the great stone +that served as anchor on the barge, we moored at dusk on the third night by the +side of a vessel that was sailing up Nile with a strong northerly wind. On +board this boat was an officer whom I had known at the Court of Pharaoh +Meneptah, travelling to Thebes on duty. This man seemed so much afraid that I +asked him if anything weighed upon his mind. Then he took me aside into a palm +grove upon the bank, and seating himself on the pole whereby oxen turned a +waterwheel, told me that strange things were passing at Tanis. +</p> + +<p> +It seemed that the Hebrew prophets had once more appeared before Pharaoh, who +since his accession had left the Israelites in peace, not attacking them with +the sword as Meneptah had wished to do, it was thought through fear lest if he +did so he should die as Meneptah died. As before, they had put up their prayer +that the people of the Hebrews should be suffered to go to worship in the +wilderness, and Pharaoh had refused them. Then when he went down to sail upon +the river early in the morning of another day, they had met him and one of them +struck the water with his rod, and it had turned to blood. Whereon Ki and +Kherheb and his company also struck the water with their rods, and it turned to +blood. That was six days ago, and now this officer swore to me that the blood +was creeping up the Nile, a tale at which I laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“Come then and see,” he said, and led me back to his boat, where +all the crew seemed as fearful as he was himself. +</p> + +<p> +He took me forward to a great water jar that stood upon the prow and, behold! +it seemed to be full of blood, and in it was a fish dead, and—stinking. +</p> + +<p> +“This water,” said he, “I drew from the Nile with my own +hands, not five hours sail to the north. But now we have outsped the blood, +which follows after us,” and taking a lamp he held it over the prow of +the boat and I saw that all its planks were splashed as though with blood. +</p> + +<p> +“Be advised by me, learned scribe,” he added, “and fill every +jar and skin that you can gather with sweet water, lest to-morrow you and your +company should go thirsty,” and he laughed a very dreary laugh. +</p> + +<p> +Then we parted without more words, for neither of us knew what to say, and +about midnight he sailed on with the wind, taking his chance of grounding on +the sandbanks in the darkness. +</p> + +<p> +For my part I did as he bade me, though my rowers who had not spoken with his +men, thought that I was mad to load up the barge with so much water. +</p> + +<p> +At the first break of day I gave the order to start. Looking over the side of +the barge it seemed to me as though the lights of dawn had fallen from the sky +into the Nile whereof the water had become pink-hued. Moreover, this hue, which +grew ever deeper, was travelling up stream, not down, against the course of +nature, and could not therefore have been caused by red soil washed from the +southern lands. The bargemen stared and muttered together. Then one of them, +leaning over the side, scooped up water in the hollow of his hand and drew some +into his mouth, only to spit it out again with a cry of fear. +</p> + +<p> +“’Tis blood,” he cried. “Blood! Osiris has been slain +afresh, and his holy blood fills the banks of Nile.” +</p> + +<p> +So much were they afraid, indeed, that had I not forced them to hold to their +course they would have turned and rowed up stream, or beached the boat and fled +into the desert. But I cried to them to steer on northwards, for thus perhaps +we should sooner be done with this horror, and they obeyed me. Ever as we went +the hue of the water grew more red, almost to blackness, till at last it seemed +as though we were travelling through a sea of gore in which dead fish floated +by the thousand, or struggled dying on the surface. Also the stench was so +dreadful that we must bind linen about our nostrils to strain the foetid air. +</p> + +<p> +We came abreast of a town, and from its streets one great wail of terror rose +to heaven. Men stood staring as though they were drunken, looking at their red +arms which they had dipped in the stream, and women ran to and fro upon the +bank, tearing their hair and robes, and crying out such words as— +</p> + +<p> +“Wizard’s work! Bewitched! Accursed! The gods have slain each +other, and men too must die!” and so forth. +</p> + +<p> +Also we saw peasants digging holes at a distance from the shore to see +perchance if they might come to water that was sweet and wholesome. All day +long we travelled thus through this horrible flood, while the spray driven by +the strong north wind spotted our flesh and garments, till we were like +butchers reeking from the shambles. Nor could we eat any food because of the +stench from this spray, which made it to taste salt as does fresh blood, only +we drank of the water which I had provided, and the rowers who had held me to +be mad now named me the wisest of men; one who knew what would befall in the +future. +</p> + +<p> +At length towards evening we noted that the water was growing much less red +with every hour that passed, which was another marvel, seeing that above us, +upstream, it was the colour of jasper, whereon we paused from our rowing and, +all defiled as we were, sang a hymn and gave thanks to Hapi, god of Nile, the +Great, the Secret, the Hidden. Before sunset, indeed, the river was clean +again, save that on the bank where we made fast for the night the stones and +rushes were all stained, and the dead fish lay in thousands polluting the air. +To escape the stench we climbed a cliff that here rose quite close to Nile, in +which we saw the mouths of ancient tombs that long ago had been robbed and left +empty, purposing to sleep in one of them. +</p> + +<p> +A path worn by the feet of men ran to the largest of these tombs, whence, as we +drew near, we heard the sound of wailing. Looking in, I saw a woman and some +children crouched upon the floor of the tomb, their heads covered with dust +who, when they perceived us, cried more loudly than before, though with harsh +dry voices, thinking no doubt that we were robbers or perhaps ghosts because of +our bloodstained garments. Also there was another child, a little one, that did +not cry, because it was dead. I asked the woman what passed, but even when she +understood that we were only men who meant her no harm, she could not speak or +do more than gasp “Water! Water!” We gave her and the children to +drink from the jars which we had brought with us, which they did greedily, +after which I drew her story from her. +</p> + +<p> +She was the wife of a fisherman who made his home in this cave, and said that +seven days before the Nile had turned to blood, so that they could not drink of +it, and had no water save a little in a pot. Nor could they dig to find it, +since here the ground was all rock. Nor could they escape, since when he saw +the marvel, her husband in his fear had leapt from his boat and waded to land +and the boat had floated away. +</p> + +<p> +I asked where was her husband, and she pointed behind her. I went to look, and +there found a man hanging by his neck from a rope that was fixed to the capital +of a pillar in the tomb, quite dead and cold. Returning sick at heart, I +inquired of her how this had come about. She answered that when he saw that all +the fish had perished, taking away his living, and that thirst had killed his +youngest child, he went mad, and creeping to the back of the tomb, without her +knowledge hung himself with a net rope. It was a dreadful story. +</p> + +<p> +Having given the widow of our food, we went to sleep in another tomb, not +liking the company of those dead ones. Next morning at the dawn we took the +woman and her children on board the barge, and rowed them three hours’ +journey to a town where she had a sister, whom she found. The dead man and the +child we left there in the tomb, since my men would not defile themselves by +touching them. +</p> + +<p> +So, seeing much terror and misery on our journey, at last we came safe to +Memphis. Leaving the boatmen to draw up the barge, I went to the palace, +speaking with none, and was led at once to the Prince. I found him in a shaded +chamber seated side by side with the lady Merapi, and holding her hand in such +a fashion that they remind me of the life-sized Ka statues of a man and his +wife, such as I have seen in the ancient tombs, cut when the sculptors knew how +to fashion the perfect likenesses of men and women. This they no longer do +to-day, I think because the priests have taught them that it is not lawful. He +was talking to her in a low voice, while she listened, smiling sweetly as she +ever did, but with eyes, fixed straight before her that were, as it seemed to +me, filled with fear. I thought that she looked very beautiful with her hair +outspread over her white robe, and held back from her temples by a little +fillet of god. But as I looked, I rejoiced to find that my heart no longer +yearned for her as it had upon that night when I had seen her seated beneath +the trees without the pleasure-house. Now she was its friend, no more, and so +she remained until all was finished, as both the Prince and she knew well +enough. +</p> + +<p> +When he saw me Seti sprang from his seat and came to greet me, as a man does +the friend whom he loves. I kissed his hand, and going to Merapi, kissed hers +also noting that on it now shone that ring which once she had rejected as too +large. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me, Ana, all that has befallen you,” he said in his pleasant, +eager voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Many things, Prince; one of them very strange and terrible,” I +answered. +</p> + +<p> +“Strange and terrible things have happened here also,” broke in +Merapi, “and, alas! this is but the beginning of woes.” +</p> + +<p> +So saying, she rose, as though she could trust herself to speak no more, bowed +first to her lord and then to me, and left the chamber. +</p> + +<p> +I looked at the Prince and he answered the question in my eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Jabez has been here,” he said, “and filled her heart with +forebodings. If Pharaoh will not let the Israelites go, by Amon I wish he would +let Jabez go to some place whence he never could return. But tell me, have you +also met blood travelling against the stream of Nile? It would seem so,” +and he glanced at the rusty stains that no washing would remove from my +garments. +</p> + +<p> +I nodded and we talked together long and earnestly, but in the end were no +wiser for all our talking. For neither of us knew how it came about that men by +striking water with a rod could turn it into what seemed to be blood, as the +Hebrew prophet and Ki both had done, or how that blood could travel up the Nile +against the stream and everywhere endure for a space of seven days; yes, and +spread too to all the canals in Egypt, so that men must dig holes for water and +dig them fresh each day because the blood crept in and poisoned them. But both +of us thought that this was the work of the gods, and most of all of that god +whom the Hebrews worship. +</p> + +<p> +“You remember, Ana,” said the Prince, “the message which you +brought to me from Jabez, namely that no harm should come to me because of +these Israelites and their curses. Well, no harm has come as yet, except the +harm of Jabez, for he came. On the day before the news of this blood plague +reached us, Jabez appeared disguised as a merchant of Syrian stuffs, all of +which he sold to me at three times their value. He obtained admission to the +chambers of Merapi, where she is accustomed to see whom she wills, and under +pretence of showing her his stuffs, spoke with her and, as I fear, told her +what you and I were so careful to hide, that she would bring trouble on me. At +the least she has never been quite the same since, and I have thought it wise +to make her swear by an oath, which I know she will never break, that now we +are one she will not attempt to separate herself from me while we both have +life.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did he wish her to go away with him, Prince?” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know. She never told me so. Still I am sure that had he come +with his evil talk before that day when you returned from Tanis, she would have +gone. Now I hope that there are reasons that will keep her where she is.” +</p> + +<p> +“What then did he say, Prince?” +</p> + +<p> +“Little beyond what he had already said to you, that great troubles were +about to fall on Egypt. He added that he was sent to save me and mine from +these troubles because I had been a friend to the Hebrews in so far as that was +possible. Then he walked through this house and all round its gardens, as he +went reciting something that was written on a roll, of which I could not +understand the meaning, and now and again prostrating himself to pray to his +god. Thus, where the canal enters the garden and where it leaves the garden he +stayed to pray, as he did at the well whence drinking water is drawn. Moreover, +led by Merapi, he visited all my cornlands and those where my cattle are +herded, reciting and praying until the servants thought that he was mad. After +this he returned with her and, as it chanced, I overheard their parting. She +said to him: +</p> + +<p> +“‘The house you have blessed and it is safe; the fields you have +blessed and they are safe; will you not bless me also, O my Uncle, and any that +are born of me?’ +</p> + +<p> +“He answered, shaking his head, ‘I have no command, my Niece, +either to bless or to curse you, as did that fool whom the Prince slew. You +have chosen your own path apart from your people. It may be well, or it may be +ill, or perhaps both, and henceforth you must walk it alone to wherever it may +lead. Farewell, for perhaps we shall meet no more.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Thus speaking they passed out of earshot, but I could see that still she +pleaded and still he shook his head. In the end, however, she gave him an +offering, of all that she had I think, though whether this went to the temple +of the Hebrews or into his own pouch I know not. At least it seemed to soften +him, for he kissed her on the brow tenderly enough and departed with the air of +a happy merchant who has sold his wares. But of all that passed between them +Merapi would tell me nothing. Nor did I tell her of what I had overheard.” +</p> + +<p> +“And then?” +</p> + +<p> +“And then, Ana, came the story of the Hebrew prophet who made the water +into blood, and of Ki and his disciples who did likewise. The latter I did not +believe, because I said it would be more reasonable had Ki turned the blood +back into water, instead of making more blood of which there was enough +already.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think that magicians have no reason.” +</p> + +<p> +“Or can do mischief only, Ana. At any rate after the story came the blood +itself and stayed with us seven whole days, leaving much sickness behind it +because of the stench of the rotting fish. Now for the marvel—here about +my house there was no blood, though above and below the canal was full of it. +The water remained as it has always been and the fish swam in it as they have +always done; also that of the well kept sweet and pure. When this came to be +known thousands crowded to the place, clamouring for water; that is until they +found that outside the gates it grew red in their vessels, after which, +although some still came, they drank the water where they stood, which they +must do quickly.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what tale do they tell of this in Memphis, Prince?” I asked +astonished. +</p> + +<p> +“Certain of them say that not Ki but I am the greatest magician in +Egypt—never, Ana, was fame more lightly earned. And certain say that +Merapi, of whose doings in the temple at Tanis some tale has reached them, is +the real magician, she being an Israelite of the tribe of the Hebrew prophets. +Hush! She returns.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap14"></a>CHAPTER XIV.<br /> +KI COMES TO MEMPHIS</h2> + +<p> +Now of all the terrors of which this turning of the water into blood was the +beginning in Egypt, I, Ana, the scribe, will not write, for if I did so, never +in my life-days should I, who am old, find time to finish the story of them. +Over a period of many, many moons they came, one by one, till the land grew mad +with want and woe. Always the tale was the same. The Hebrew prophets would +visit Pharaoh at Tanis and demand that he should let their people go, +threatening him with vengeance if he refused. Yet he did refuse, for some +madness had hold of him, or perhaps the god of the Israelites laid an +enchantment on him, why I know not. +</p> + +<p> +Thus but a little while after the terror of blood came a plague of frogs that +filled Egypt from north to south, and when these were taken away made the air +to stink. This miracle Ki and his company worked also, sending the frogs into +Goshen, where they plagued the Israelites. But however it came about, at +Seti’s palace at Memphis and on the land that he owned around it there +were no frogs, or at least but few of them, although at night from the fields +about the sound of their croaking went up like the sound of beaten drums. +</p> + +<p> +Next came a plague of lice, and these Ki and his companions would have also +called down upon the Hebrews, but they failed, and afterwards struggled no more +against the magic of the Israelites. Then followed a plague of flies, so that +the air was black with them and no food could be kept sweet. Only in +Seti’s palace there were no flies, and in the garden but a few. After +this a terrible pest began among the cattle, whereof thousands died. But of +Seti’s great herd not one was even sick, nor, as we learned, was there a +hoof the less in the land of Goshen. +</p> + +<p> +This plague struck Egypt but a little while after Merapi had given birth to a +son, a very beautiful child with his mother’s eyes, that was named Seti +after his father. Now the marvel of the escape of the Prince and his household +and all that was his from these curses spread abroad and made much talk, so +that many sent to inquire of it. +</p> + +<p> +Among the first came old Bakenkhonsu with a message from Pharaoh, and a private +one to myself from the Princess Userti, whose pride would not suffer her to ask +aught of Seti. We could tell him nothing except what I have written, which at +first he did not believe. Having satisfied himself, however, that the thing was +true, he said that he had fallen sick and could not travel back to Tanis. +Therefore he asked leave of the Prince to rest a while in his house, he who had +been the friend of his father, his grandfather, and his great-grandfather. Seti +laughed, as indeed did the cunning old man himself, and there with us +Bakenkhonsu remained till the end, to our great joy, for he was the most +pleasant of all companions and the most learned. As for his message, one of his +servants took back the answer to Pharaoh and to Userti, with the news of his +master’s grievous sickness. +</p> + +<p> +Some eight days or so later, as I stood one morning basking in the sun at that +gate of the palace gardens which overlooks the temple of Ptah, idly watching +the procession of priests passing through its courts and chanting as they went +(for because of the many sicknesses at this time I left the palace but rarely), +I saw a tall figure approaching me draped against the morning cold. The man +drew near, and addressing me over the head of the guard, asked if he could see +the lady Merapi. I answered No, as she was engaged in nursing her son. +</p> + +<p> +“And in other things, I think,” he said with meaning, in a voice +that seemed familiar to me. “Well, can I see the Prince Seti?” +</p> + +<p> +I answered No, he was also engaged. +</p> + +<p> +“In nursing his own soul, studying the eyes of the lady Merapi, the smile +of his infant, the wisdom of the scribe Ana, and the attributes of the hundred +and one gods that are known to him, including that of Israel, I suppose,” +said the familiar voice, adding, “Then can I see this scribe Ana, who I +understand, being lucky, holds himself learned.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, angered at the scoffing of this stranger (though all the time I felt that +he was none), I answered that the scribe Ana was striving to mend his luck by +the pursuit of the goddess of learning in his study. +</p> + +<p> +“Let him pursue,” mocked the stranger, “since she is the only +woman that he is ever likely to catch. Yet it is true that once one caught him. +If you are of his acquaintance ask him of his talk with her in the avenue of +the Sphinxes outside the great temple at Thebes and of what it cost him in gold +and tears.” +</p> + +<p> +Hearing this I put my hand to my forehead and rubbed my eyes, thinking that I +must have fallen into a dream there in the sunshine. When I lifted it again all +was the same as before. There stood the sentry, indifferent to that which had +no interest for him; the cock that had moulted its tail still scratched in the +dirt; the crested hoopoe still sat spreading its wings on the head of one of +the two great statues of Rameses which watched the gate; a water-seller in the +distance still cried his wares, but the stranger was gone. Then I knew that I +had been dreaming and turned to go also, to find myself face to face with him. +</p> + +<p> +“Man,” I said, indignantly, “how in the name of Ptah and all +his priests did you pass a sentry and through that gate without my seeing +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Do not trouble yourself with a new problem when already you have so many +to perplex you, friend Ana. Say, have you yet solved that of how a rod like +this turned itself into a snake in your hand?” and he threw back his +hood, revealing the shaved head and the glowing eyes of the Kherheb Ki. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I have not,” I answered, “and I thank you,” for +here he proffered me the staff, “but I will not try the trick again. Next +time the beast might bite. Well, Ki, as you can pass in here without my leave, +why do you ask it? In short, what do you want with me, now that those Hebrew +prophets have put you on your back?” +</p> + +<p> +“Hush, Ana. Never grow angry, it wastes strength, of which we have so +little to spare, for you know, being so wise, or perhaps you do not know, that +at birth the gods give us a certain store of it, and when that is used we die +and have to go elsewhere to fetch more. At this rate your life will be short, +Ana, for you squander it in emotions.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you want?” I repeated, being too angry to dispute with him. +</p> + +<p> +“I want to find an answer to the question you asked so roughly: Why the +Hebrew prophets have, as you say, put me on my back?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not being a magician, as you pretend you are, I can give you none, +Ki.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never for one moment did I suppose that you could,” he replied +blandly, stretching out his hands, and leaving the staff which had fallen from +them standing in front of him. (It was not till afterwards that I remembered +that this accursed bit of wood stood there of itself without visible support, +for it rested on the paving-stone of the gateway.) “But, as it chances, +you have in this house the master, or rather the mistress of all magicians, as +every Egyptian knows to-day, the lady Merapi, and I would see her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you say she is a mistress of magicians?” I asked +indignantly. +</p> + +<p> +“Why does one bird know another of its own kind? Why does the water here +remain pure, when all other water turns to blood? Why do not the frogs croak in +Seti’s halls, and why do the flies avoid his meat? Why, also, did the +statue of Amon melt before her glance, while all my magic fell back from her +breast like arrows from a shirt of mail? Those are the questions that Egypt +asks, and I would have an answer to them from the beloved of Seti, or of the +god Set, she who is named Moon of Israel.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then why not go seek it for yourself, Ki? To you, doubtless, it would be +a small matter to take the form of a snake or a rat, or a bird, and creep or +run or fly into the presence of Merapi.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mayhap it would not be difficult, Ana. Or, better still, I might visit +her in her sleep, as I visited you on a certain night at Thebes, when you told +me of a talk you had held with a woman in the avenue of the Sphinxes, and of +what it cost you in gold and tears. But, as it chances, I wish to appear as a +man and a friend, and to stay a while. Bakenkhonsu tells me that he finds life +here at Memphis very pleasant, free too from the sicknesses which just now seem +to be so common in Egypt; so why should not I do the same, Ana?” +</p> + +<p> +I looked at his round, ripe face, on which was fixed a smile unchanging as that +worn by the masks on mummy coffins, from which I think he must have copied it, +and at the cold, deep eyes above, and shivered a little. To tell truth I feared +this man, whom I felt to be in touch with presences and things that are not of +our world, and thought it wisest to withstand him no more. +</p> + +<p> +“That is a question which you had best put to my master Seti who owns +this house. Come, I will lead you to him,” I said. +</p> + +<p> +So we went to the great portico of the palace, passing in and out through the +painted pillars, towards my own apartments, whence I purposed to send a message +to the Prince. As it chanced this was needless, since presently we saw him +seated in a little bay out of reach of the sun. By his side was Merapi, and on +a woven rug between them lay their sleeping infant, at whom both of them gazed +adoringly. +</p> + +<p> +“Strange that this mother’s heart should hide more might than can +be boasted by all the gods of Egypt. Strange that those mother’s eyes can +rive the ancient glory of Amon into dust!” Ki said to me in so low a +voice that it almost seemed as though I heard his thought and not his words, +which perhaps indeed I did. +</p> + +<p> +Now we stood in front of these three, and the sun being behind us, for it was +still early, the shadow of the cloaked Ki fell upon a babe and lay there. A +hateful fancy came to me. It looked like the evil form of an embalmer bending +over one new dead. The babe felt it, opened its large eyes and wailed. Merapi +saw it, and snatched up her child. Seti too rose from his seat, exclaiming, +“Who comes?” +</p> + +<p> +Thereon, to my amazement, Ki prostrated himself and uttered the salutation +which may only be given to the King of Egypt: “Life! Blood! Strength! +Pharaoh! Pharaoh! Pharaoh!” +</p> + +<p> +“Who dares utter those words to me?” said Seti. “Ana, what +madman do you bring here?” +</p> + +<p> +“May it please the Prince, <i>he</i> brought <i>me</i> here,” I +replied faintly. +</p> + +<p> +“Fellow, tell me who bade you say such words, than which none were ever +less welcome.” +</p> + +<p> +“Those whom I serve, Prince.” +</p> + +<p> +“And whom do you serve?” +</p> + +<p> +“The gods of Egypt.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then, man, I think the gods must need your company. Pharaoh does not sit +at Memphis, and were he to hear of them——” +</p> + +<p> +“Pharaoh will never hear them, Prince, until he hears all things.” +</p> + +<p> +They stared at each other. Then, as I had done by the gate Seti rubbed his +eyes, and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Surely this is Ki. Why, then, did you look otherwise just now?” +</p> + +<p> +“The gods can change the fashion of their messenger a thousand times in a +flash, if so they will, O Prince.” +</p> + +<p> +Now Seti’s anger passed, and turned to laughter. +</p> + +<p> +“Ki, Ki,” he said, “you should keep these tricks for Court. +But, since you are in the mood, what salutation have you for this lady by my +side?” +</p> + +<p> +Ki considered her, till she who ever feared and hated him shrank before his +gaze. +</p> + +<p> +“Crown of Hathor, I greet you. Beloved of Isis, shine on perfect in the +sky, shedding light and wisdom ere you set.” +</p> + +<p> +Now this saying puzzled me. Indeed, I did not fully understand it until +Bakenkhonsu reminded me that Merapi’s name was Moon of Israel, that +Hathor, goddess of love, is crowned with the moon in all her statues, that Isis +is the queen of mysteries and wisdom, and that Ki who thought Merapi perfect in +love and beauty, also the greatest of all sorceresses, was likening her to +these. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” I answered, “but what did he mean when he talked about +her setting?” +</p> + +<p> +“Does not the moon always set, and is it not sometimes eclipsed?” +he asked shortly. +</p> + +<p> +“So does the sun,” I answered. +</p> + +<p> +“True; so does the sun! You are growing wise, very wise indeed, friend +Ana. Oho—ho!” +</p> + +<p> +To return: When Seti heard these words, he laughed again, and said: +</p> + +<p> +“I must think that saying over, but it is clear that you have a pretty +turn for praise. Is it not so, Merapi, Crown of Hathor, and Holder of the +wisdom of Isis?” +</p> + +<p> +But Merapi, who, I think, understood more than either of us, turned pale, and +shrank further away, but outwards into the sunshine. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Ki,” went on Seti, “finish your greetings. What for +the babe?” +</p> + +<p> +Ki considered it also. +</p> + +<p> +“Now that it is no longer in the shadow, I see that this shoot from the +royal root of Pharaoh grows so fast and tall that my eyes cannot reach its +crest. He is too high and great for greetings, Prince.” +</p> + +<p> +Then Merapi uttered a little cry, and bore the child away. +</p> + +<p> +“She is afraid of magicians and their dark sayings,” said Seti, +looking after her with a troubled smile. +</p> + +<p> +“That she should not be, Prince, seeing that she is the mistress of all +our tribe.” +</p> + +<p> +“The lady Merapi a magician? Well, after a fashion, yes—where the +hearts of men are concerned, do you not think so, Ana? But be more plain, Ki. +It is still early, and I love riddles best at night.” +</p> + +<p> +“What other could have shattered the strong and holy house where the +majesty of Amon dwells on earth? Not even those prophets of the Hebrews as I +think. What other could fence this garden round against the curses that have +fallen upon Egypt?” asked Ki earnestly, for now all his mocking manner +had departed. +</p> + +<p> +“I do not think she does these things, Ki. I think some Power does them +through her, and I know that she dared to face Amon in his temple because she +was bidden so to do by the priests of her people.” +</p> + +<p> +“Prince,” he answered with a short laugh, “a while ago I sent +you a message by Ana, which perhaps other thoughts may have driven from his +memory. It was as to the nature of that Power of which you speak. In that +message I said that you were wise, but now I perceive that you lack wisdom like +the rest of us, for if you had it, you would know that the tool which carves is +not the guiding hand, and the lightning which smites is not the sending +strength. So with this fair love of yours, and so with me and all that work +marvels. We do not the things we seem to do, who are but the tool and the +lightning. What I would know is who or what guides her hand and gives her the +might to shield or to destroy.” +</p> + +<p> +“The question is wide, Ki, or so it seems to me who, as you say, have +little wisdom, and whoever can answer it holds the key of knowledge. Your magic +is but a small thing which seems great because so few can handle it. What +miracle is it that makes the flower to grow, the child to be born, the Nile to +rise, and the sun and stars to shine in heaven? What causes man to be half a +beast and half a god and to grow downward to the beast or upward to the +god—or both? What is faith and what is unbelief? Who made these things, +through them to declare the purposes of life, of death, and of eternity? You +shake your head, you do not know; how then can I know who, as you point out, am +but foolish? Go get your answer from the lady Merapi’s self, only mayhap +you will find your questions countered.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll take my chance. Thanks to Merapi’s lord! A boon, O +Prince, since you will not suffer that other name which comes easiest to the +lips of one to whom the Present and the Future are sometimes much alike.” +</p> + +<p> +Seti looked at him keenly, and for the first time with a tinge of fear in his +eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Leave the Future to itself, Ki,” he exclaimed. “Whatever may +be the mind of Egypt, just now I hold the Present enough for me,” and he +glanced first at the chair in which Merapi had been seated and then at the +cloth upon which his son had lain. +</p> + +<p> +“I take back my words. The Prince is wiser than I thought. Magicians know +the future because at times it rushes down upon them and they must. It is that +which makes them lonely, since what they know they cannot say. But only fools +will seek it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yet now and again they lift a corner of the veil, Ki. Thus I remember +certain sayings of your own as to one who would find a great treasure in the +land of Goshen and thereafter suffer some temporal loss, and—I forget the +rest. Man, cease smiling at me with your face and piercing me through with your +sword-like eyes. You can command all things, what boon then do you seek from +me?” +</p> + +<p> +“To lodge here a little while, Prince, in the company of Ana and +Bakenkhonsu. Hearken, I am no more Kherheb. I have quarrelled with Pharaoh, +perhaps because a little breath from that great wind of the future blows +through my soul; perhaps because he does not reward me according to my +merits—what does it matter which? At least I have come to be of one mind +with you, O Prince, and think that Pharaoh would do well to let the Hebrews go, +and therefore no longer will I attempt to match my magic against theirs. But he +refuses, so we have parted.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why does he refuse, Ki?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps it is written that he must refuse. Or perhaps because, thinking +himself the greatest of all kings instead of but a plaything of the gods, pride +locks the doors of his heart that in a day to come the tempest of the Future, +whereof I have spoken, may wreck the house which holds it. I do not know why he +refuses, but her Highness Userti is much with him.” +</p> + +<p> +“For one who does not know, you have many reasons and all of them +different, O instructed Ki,” said Seti. +</p> + +<p> +Then he paused, walking up and down the portico, and I who knew his mind +guessed that he was wondering whether he would do well to suffer Ki, whom at +times he feared because his objects were secret and never changed, to abide in +his house, or whether he should send him away. Ki also shivered a little, as +though he felt the shadow cold, and descended from the portico into the bright +sunshine. Here he held out his hand and a great moth dropped from the roof and +lit upon it, whereon he lifted it to his lips, which moved as though he were +talking to the insect. +</p> + +<p> +“What shall I do?” muttered Seti, as he passed me. +</p> + +<p> +“I do not altogether like his company, nor, I think, does the lady +Merapi, but he is an ill man to offend, Prince,” I answered. “Look, +he is talking with his familiar.” +</p> + +<p> +Seti returned to his place, and shaking off the moth which seemed loth to leave +him, for twice it settled on his head, Ki came back into the shadow. +</p> + +<p> +“Where is the use of your putting questions to me, Ki, when, according to +your own showing, already you know the answer that I will give? What answer +shall I give?” asked the Prince. +</p> + +<p> +“That painted creature which sat upon my hand just now, seemed to whisper +to me that you would say, O Prince, ‘Stay, Ki, and be my faithful +servant, and use any little lore you have to shield my house from +ill.’” +</p> + +<p> +Then Seti laughed in his careless fashion, and replied: +</p> + +<p> +“Have your way, since it is a rule that none of the royal blood of Egypt +may refuse hospitality to those who seek it, having been their friends, and I +will not quote against your moth what a bat whispered in my ears last night. +Nay, none of your salutations revealed to you by insects or by the +future,” and he gave him his hand to kiss. +</p> + +<p> +When Ki was gone, I said: +</p> + +<p> +“I told you that night-haunting thing was his familiar.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you told me folly, Ana. The knowledge that Ki has he does not get +from moths or beetles. Yet now that it is too late I wish that I had asked the +lady Merapi what her will was in this matter. You should have thought of that, +Ana, instead of suffering your mind to be led astray by an insect sitting on +his hand, which is just what he meant that you should do. Well, in punishment, +day by day it shall be your lot to look upon a man with a countenance +like—like what?” +</p> + +<p> +“Like that which I saw upon the coffin of the good god, your divine +father, Meneptah, as it was prepared for him during his life in the +embalmer’s shop at Tanis,” I answered. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said the Prince, “a face smiling eternally at the +Nothingness which is Life and Death, but in certain lights, with eyes of +fire.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +On the following day, by her invitation, I walked with the lady Merapi in the +garden, the head nurse following us, bearing the royal child in her arms. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish to ask you about Ki, friend Ana,” she said. “You know +he is my enemy, for you must have heard the words he spoke to me in the temple +of Amon at Tanis. It seems that my lord has made him the guest of this +house—oh look!” and she pointed before her. +</p> + +<p> +I looked, and there a few paces away, where the shadow of the overhanging palms +was deepest, stood Ki. He was leaning on his staff, the same that had turned to +a snake in my hand, and gazing upwards like one who is lost in thought, or +listens to the singing of birds. Merapi turned as though to fly, but at that +moment Ki saw us, although he still seemed to gaze upwards. +</p> + +<p> +“Greeting, O Moon of Israel,” he said bowing. “Greeting, O +Conqueror of Ki!” +</p> + +<p> +She bowed back, and stood still, as a little bird stands when it sees a snake. +There was a long silence, which he broke by asking: +</p> + +<p> +“Why seek that from Ana which Ki himself is eager to give? Ana is +learned, but is his heart the heart of Ki? Above all, why tell him that Ki, the +humblest of your servants, is your enemy?” +</p> + +<p> +Now Merapi straightened herself, looked into his eyes, and answered: +</p> + +<p> +“Have I told Ana aught that he did not know? Did not Ana hear the last +words you said to me in the temple of Amon at Tanis?” +</p> + +<p> +“Doubtless he heard them, Lady, and therefore I am glad that he is here +to hear their meaning. Lady Merapi, at that moment, I, the Sacrificer to Amon, +was filled—not with my own spirit, but with the angry spirit of the god +whom you had humbled as never before had befallen him in Egypt. The god through +me demanded of you the secret of your magic, and promised you his hate, if you +refused. Lady, you have his hate, but mine you have not, since I also have his +hate because I, and he through me, have been worsted by your prophets. Lady, we +are fellow-travellers in the Valley of Trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +She gazed at him steadily, and I could see that of all that passed his lips she +believed no one word. Making no answer to him and his talk of Amon, she asked +only: +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you come here to do me ill who have done you none?” +</p> + +<p> +“You are mistaken, Lady,” he replied. “I come here to refuge +from Amon, and from his servant Pharaoh, whom Amon drives on to ruin. I know +well that, if you will it, you can whisper in the ear of the Prince and +presently he will put me forth. Only then——” and he looked +over her head to where the nurse stood rocking the sleeping child. +</p> + +<p> +“Then what, Magician?” +</p> + +<p> +Giving no answer, he turned to me. +</p> + +<p> +“Learned Ana, do you remember meeting me at Tanis one night?” +</p> + +<p> +I shook my head, though I guessed well enough what night he meant. +</p> + +<p> +“Your memory weakens, learned Ana, or rather is confused, for we met +often, did we not?” +</p> + +<p> +Then he stared at the staff in his hand. I stared also, because I could not +help it, and saw, or thought I saw, the dead wood begin to swell and curve. +This was enough for me and I said hastily: +</p> + +<p> +“If you mean the night of the Coronation, I do recall——” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! I thought you would. You, learned Ana, who like all scribes observe +so closely, will have noted how little things—such as the scent of a +flower, or the passing of a bird, or even the writhing of a snake in the +dust—often bring back to the mind events or words it has forgotten long +ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well—what of our meeting?” I broke in hastily. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing at all—or only this. Just before it you were talking with +the Hebrew Jabez, the lady Merapi’s uncle, were you not?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I was talking with him in an open place, alone.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not so, learned Scribe, for you know we are never alone—quite. +Could you but see it, every grain of sand has an ear.” +</p> + +<p> +“Be pleased to explain, O Ki.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, Ana, it would be too long, and short jests are ever the best. As I +have told you, you were not alone, for though there were some words that I did +not catch, <i>I</i> heard much of what passed between you and Jabez.” +</p> + +<p> +“What did you hear?” I asked wrathfully, and next instant wished +that I had bitten through my tongue before it shaped the words. +</p> + +<p> +“Much, much. Let me think. You spoke about the lady Merapi, and whether +she would do well to bide at Memphis in the shadow of the Prince, or to return +to Goshen into the shadow of a certain—I forget the name. Jabez, a +well-instructed man, said he thought that she might be happier at Memphis, +though perhaps her presence there would bring a great sorrow upon herself +and—another.” +</p> + +<p> +Here again he looked at the child, which seemed to feel his glance, for it woke +up and beat the air with its little hands. +</p> + +<p> +The nurse felt it also, although her head was turned away, for she started and +then took shelter behind the bole of one of the palm-trees. Now Merapi said in +a low and shaken voice: +</p> + +<p> +“I know what you mean, Magician, for since then I have seen my uncle +Jabez.” +</p> + +<p> +“As I have also, several times, Lady, which may explain to you what Ana +here thinks so wonderful, namely that I should have learned what they said +together when he thought they were alone, which, as I have told him, no one can +ever be, at least in Egypt, the land of listening gods——” +</p> + +<p> +“And spying sorcerers,” I exclaimed. +</p> + +<p> +“——And spying sorcerers,” he repeated after me, +“and scribes who take notes, and learn them by heart, and priests with +ears as large as asses, and leaves that whisper—and many other +things.” +</p> + +<p> +“Cease your gibes, and say what you have to say,” said Merapi, in +the same broken voice. +</p> + +<p> +He made no answer, but only looked at the tree behind which the nurse and child +had vanished. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! I know, I know,” she exclaimed in tones that were like a cry. +“My child is threatened! You threaten my child because you hate me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your pardon, Lady. It is true that evil threatens this royal babe, or so +I understood from Jabez, who knows so much. But it is not I that threaten it, +any more than I hate you, in whom I acknowledge a fellow of my craft, but one +greater than myself that it is my duty to obey.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have done! Why do you torment me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Can the priests of the Moon-goddess torment Isis, Mother of Magic, with +their prayers and offerings? And can I who would make a prayer and an +offering——” +</p> + +<p> +“What prayer, and what offering?” +</p> + +<p> +“The prayer that you will suffer me to shelter in this house from the +many dangers that threaten me at the hands of Pharaoh and the prophets of your +people, and an offering of such help as I can give by my arts and knowledge +against blacker dangers which threaten—another.” +</p> + +<p> +Here once more he gazed at the trunk of the tree beyond which I heard the +infant wail. +</p> + +<p> +“If I consent, what then?” she asked, hoarsely. +</p> + +<p> +“Then, Lady, I will strive to protect a certain little one against a +curse which Jabez tells me threatens him and many others in whom runs the blood +of Egypt. I will strive, if I am allowed to bide here—I do not say that I +shall succeed, for as your lord has reminded me, and as you showed me in the +temple of Amon, my strength is smaller than that of the prophets and +prophetesses of Israel.” +</p> + +<p> +“And if I refuse?” +</p> + +<p> +“Then, Lady,” he answered in a voice that rang like iron, “I +am sure that one whom you love—as mothers love—will shortly be +rocked in the arms of the god whom we name Osiris.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Stay</i>,” she cried and, turning, fled away. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Ana, she is gone,” he said, “and that before I could +bargain for my reward. Well, this I must find in your company. How strange are +women, Ana! Here you have one of the greatest of her sex, as you learned in the +temple of Amon. And yet she opens beneath the sun of hope and shrivels beneath +the shadow of fear, like the touched leaves of that tender plant which grows +upon the banks of the river; she who, with her eyes set on the mystery that is +beyond, whereof she hears the whispering winds, should tread both earthly hope +and fear beneath her feet, or make of them stepping stones to glory. Were she a +man she would do so, but her sex wrecks her, she who thinks more of the kiss of +a babe than of all the splendours she might harbour in her breast. Yes, a babe, +a single wretched little babe. You had one once, did you not, Ana?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! to Set and his fires with you and your evil talk,” I said, and +left him. +</p> + +<p> +When I had gone a little way, I looked back and saw that he was laughing, +throwing up his staff as he laughed, and catching it again. +</p> + +<p> +“Set and his fires,” he called after me. “I wonder what they +are like, Ana. Perhaps one day we shall learn, you and I together, Scribe +Ana.” +</p> + +<p> +So Ki took up his abode with us, in the same lodgings as Bakenkhonsu, and +almost every day I would meet them walking in the garden, since I, who was of +the Prince’s table, except when he ate with the lady Merapi, did not take +my food with them. Then we would talk together about many subjects. On those +which had to do with learning, or even religion, I had the better of Ki, who +was no great scholar or master of theology. But always before we parted he +would plant some arrow in my ribs, at which old Bakenkhonsu laughed, and +laughed again, yet ever threw over me the shield of his venerable wisdom, just +because he loved me I think. +</p> + +<p> +It was after this that the plague struck the cattle of Egypt, so that tens of +thousands of them died, though not all as was reported. But, as I have said, of +the herds of Seti none died, nor, as we were told, did any of those of the +Israelites in the land of Goshen. Now there was great distress in Egypt, but Ki +smiled and said that he knew it would be so, and that there was much worse to +come, for which I could have smitten him over the head with his own staff, had +I not feared that, if I did so, it might once more turn to a serpent in my hand. +</p> + +<p> +Old Bakenkhonsu looked upon the matter with another face. He said that since +his last wife died, I think some fifty years before, he had found life very +dull because he missed the exercises of her temper, and her habit of presenting +things as these never had been nor could possibly ever be. Now, however, it +grew interesting again, since the marvels which were happening in Egypt, being +quite contrary to Nature, reminded him of his last wife and her arguments. All +of which was his way of saying that in those years we lived in a new world, +whereof for the Egyptians Set the Evil One seemed to be the king. +</p> + +<p> +But still Pharaoh would not let the Hebrews go, perhaps because he had vowed as +much to Meneptah who set him on the throne, or perhaps for those other reasons, +or one of them, which Ki had given to the Prince. +</p> + +<p> +Then came the curse of sores afflicting man, woman, and child throughout the +land, save those who dwelt in the household of Seti. Thus the watchman and his +family whose lodge was without the gates suffered, but the watchman and his +family who lived within the gates, not twenty paces away, did not suffer, which +caused bitterness between their women. In the same way Ki, who resided as a +guest of the Prince at Memphis, suffered from no sores, whereas those of his +College who remained at Tanis were more heavily smitten than any others, so +that some of them died. When he heard this, Ki laughed and said that he had +told them it would be so. Also Pharaoh himself and even her Highness Userti +were smitten, the latter upon the cheek, which made her unsightly for a while. +Indeed, Bakenkhonsu heard, I know not how, that so great was her rage that she +even bethought her of returning to her lord Seti, in whose house she had +learned people were safe, and the beauty of her successor, Moon of Israel, +remained unscarred and was even greater than before, tidings that I think +Bakenkhonsu himself conveyed to her. But in the end this her pride, or her +jealousy, prevented her from doing. +</p> + +<p> +Now the heart of Egypt began to turn towards Seti in good earnest. The Prince, +they said, had opposed the policy of the oppression of the Hebrews, and because +he could not prevail had abandoned his right to the throne, which Pharaoh +Amenmeses had purchased at the price of accepting that policy whereof the +fruits had been proved to be destruction. Therefore, they reasoned, if +Amenmeses were deposed, and the Prince reigned, their miseries would cease. So +they sent deputations to him secretly, praying him to rise against Amenmeses +and promising him support. But he would listen to none of them, telling them +that he was happy as he was and sought no other state. Still Pharaoh grew +jealous, for all these things his spies reported to him, and set about plots to +destroy Seti. +</p> + +<p> +Of the first of these Userti warned me by a messenger, but the second and worse +Ki discovered in some strange way, so that the murderer was trapped at the gate +and killed by the watchman, whereon Seti said that after all he had been wise +to give hospitality to Ki, that is, if to continue to live were wisdom. The +lady Merapi also said as much to me, but I noted that always she shunned Ki, +whom she held in mistrust and fear. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap15"></a>CHAPTER XV.<br /> +THE NIGHT OF FEAR</h2> + +<p> +Then came the hail, and some months after the hail the locusts, and Egypt went +mad with woe and terror. It was known to us, for with Ki and Bakenkhonsu in the +palace we knew everything, that the Hebrew prophets had promised this hail +because Pharaoh would not listen to them. Therefore Seti caused it to be put +about through all the land that the Egyptians should shelter their cattle, or +such as were left to them, at the first sign of storm. But Pharaoh heard of it +and issued a proclamation that this was not to be done, inasmuch as it would be +an insult to the gods of Egypt. Still many did so and these saved their cattle. +It was strange to see that wall of jagged ice stretching from earth to heaven +and destroying all upon which it fell. The tall date-palms were stripped even +of their bark; the soil was churned up; men and beasts if caught abroad were +slain or shattered. +</p> + +<p> +I stood at the gate and watched it. There, not a yard away, fell the white +hail, turning the world to wreck, while here within the gate there was not a +single stone. Merapi watched also, and presently came Ki as well, and with him +Bakenkhonsu, who for once had never seen anything like this in all his long +life. But Ki watched Merapi more than he did the hail, for I saw him searching +out her very soul with those merciless eyes of his. +</p> + +<p> +“Lady,” he said at length, “tell your servant, I beseech you, +how you do this thing?” and he pointed first to the trees and flowers +within the gate and then to the wreck without. +</p> + +<p> +At first I thought that she had not heard him because of the roar of the hail, +for she stepped forward and opened the side wicket to admit a poor jackal that +was scratching at the bars. Still this was not so, for presently she turned and +said: +</p> + +<p> +“Does the Kherheb, the greatest magician in Egypt, ask an unlearned woman +to teach him of marvels? Well, Ki, I cannot, because I neither do it nor know +how it is done.” +</p> + +<p> +Bakenkhonsu laughed, and Ki’s painted smile grew as it were brighter than +before. +</p> + +<p> +“That is not what they say in the land of Goshen, Lady,” he +answered, “and not what the Hebrew women say here in Memphis. Nor is it +what the priests of Amon say. These declare that you have more magic than all +the sorcerers of the Nile. Here is the proof of it,” and he pointed to +the ruin without and the peace within, adding, “Lady, if you can protect +your own home, why cannot you protect the innocent people of Egypt?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because I cannot,” she answered angrily. “If ever I had such +power it is gone from me, who am now the mother of an Egyptian’s child. +But I have none. There in the temple of Amon some Strength worked through me, +that is all, which never will visit me again because of my sin.” +</p> + +<p> +“What sin, Lady?” +</p> + +<p> +“The sin of taking the Prince Seti to lord. Now, if any god spoke through +me it would be one of those of the Egyptians, since He of Israel has cast me +out.” +</p> + +<p> +Ki started as though some new thought had come to him, and at this moment she +turned and went away. +</p> + +<p> +“Would that she were high-priestess of Isis that she might work for us +and not against us,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +Bakenkhonsu shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“Let that be,” he answered. “Be sure that never will an +Israelitish woman offer sacrifice to what she would call the abomination of the +Egyptians.” +</p> + +<p> +“If she will not sacrifice to save the people, let her be careful lest +the people sacrifice her to save themselves,” said Ki in a cold voice. +</p> + +<p> +Then he too went away. +</p> + +<p> +“I think that if ever that hour comes, then Ki will have his share in +it,” laughed Bakenkhonsu. “What is the good of a shepherd who +shelters here in comfort, while outside the sheep are dying, eh, Ana?” +</p> + +<p> +It was after the plague of locusts, which ate all there was left to eat in +Egypt, so that the poor folk who had done no wrong and had naught to say to the +dealings of Pharaoh with the Israelites starved by the thousand, and during +that of the great darkness, that Laban came. Now this darkness lay upon the +land like a thick cloud for three whole days and nights. Nevertheless, though +the shadows were deep, there was no true darkness over the house of Seti at +Memphis, which stood in a funnel of grey light stretching from earth to sky. +</p> + +<p> +Now the terror was increased tenfold, and it seemed to me that all the hundreds +of thousands of Memphis were gathered outside our walls, so that they might +look upon the light, such as it was, if they could do no more. Seti would have +admitted as many as the place would hold, but Ki bade him not, saying, that if +he did so the darkness would flow in with them. Only Merapi did admit some of +the Israelitish women who were married to Egyptians in the city, though for her +pains they only cursed her as a witch. For now most of the inhabitants of +Memphis were certain that it was Merapi who, keeping herself safe, had brought +these woes upon them because she was a worshipper of an alien god. +</p> + +<p> +“If she who is the love of Egypt’s heir would but sacrifice to +Egypt’s gods, these horrors would pass from us,” said they, having, +as I think, learned their lesson from the lips of Ki. Or perhaps the emissaries +of Userti had taught them. +</p> + +<p> +Once more we stood by the gate watching the people flitting to and fro in the +gloom without, for this sight fascinated Merapi, as a snake fascinates a bird. +Then it was that Laban appeared. I knew his hooked nose and hawk-like eyes at +once, and she knew him also. +</p> + +<p> +“Come away with me, Moon of Israel,” he cried, “and all shall +yet be forgiven you. But if you will not come, then fearful things shall +overtake you.” +</p> + +<p> +She stood staring at him, answering never a word, and just then the Prince Seti +reached us and saw him. +</p> + +<p> +“Take that man,” he commanded, flushing with anger, and guards +sprang into the darkness to do his bidding. But Laban was gone. +</p> + +<p> +On the second day of the darkness the tumult was great, on the third it was +terrible. A crowd thrust the guard aside, broke down the gates and burst into +the palace, humbly demanding that the lady Merapi would come to pray for them, +yet showing by their mien that if she would not come they meant to take her. +</p> + +<p> +“What is to be done?” asked Seti of Ki and Bakenkhonsu. +</p> + +<p> +“That is for the Prince to judge,” said Ki, “though I do not +see how it can harm the lady Merapi to pray for us in the open square of +Memphis.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let her go,” said Bakenkhonsu, “lest presently we should all +go further than we would.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not wish to go,” cried Merapi, “not knowing for whom I +am to pray or how.” +</p> + +<p> +“Be it as you will, Lady,” said Seti in his grave and gentle voice. +“Only, hearken to the roar of the mob. If you refuse, I think that very +soon every one of us will have reached a land where perhaps it is not needful +to pray at all,” and he looked at the infant in her arms. +</p> + +<p> +“I will go,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +She went forth carrying the child and I walked behind her. So did the Prince, +but in that darkness he was cut off by a rush of thousands of folk and I saw +him no more till all was over. Bakenkhonsu was with me leaning on my arm, but +Ki had gone on before us, for his own ends as I think. A huge mob moved through +the dense darkness, in which here and there lights floated like lamps upon a +quiet sea. I did not know where we were going until the light of one of these +lamps shone upon the knees of the colossal statue of the great Rameses, +revealing his cartouche. Then I knew that we were near the gateway of the vast +temple of Memphis, the largest perhaps in the whole world. +</p> + +<p> +We went on through court after pillared court, priests leading us by the hand, +till we came to a shrine commanding the biggest court of all, which was packed +with men and women. It was that of Isis, who held at her breast the infant +Horus. +</p> + +<p> +“O friend Ana,” cried Merapi, “give help. They are dressing +me in strange garments.” +</p> + +<p> +I tried to get near to her but was thrust back, a voice, which I thought to be +that of Ki, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“On your life, fool!” +</p> + +<p> +Presently a lamp was held up, and by the light of it I saw Merapi seated in a +chair dressed like a goddess, in the sacerdotal robes of Isis and wearing the +vulture cap headdress—beautiful exceedingly. In her arms was the child +dressed as the infant Horus. +</p> + +<p> +“Pray for us, Mother Isis,” cried thousands of voices, “that +the curse of blackness may be removed.” +</p> + +<p> +Then she prayed, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“O my God, take away this curse of blackness from these innocent +people,” and all of those present, repeated her prayer. +</p> + +<p> +At that moment the sky began to lighten and in less than half an hour the sun +shone out. When Merapi saw how she and the child were arrayed she screamed +aloud and tore off her jewelled trappings, crying: +</p> + +<p> +“Woe! Woe! Woe! Great woe upon the people of Egypt!” +</p> + +<p> +But in their joy at the new found light few hearkened to her who they were sure +had brought back the sun. Again Laban appeared for a moment. +</p> + +<p> +“Witch! Traitress!” he cried. “You have worn the robes of +Isis and worshipped in the temple of the gods of the Egyptians. The curse of +the God of Israel be on you and that which is born of you.” +</p> + +<p> +I sprang at him but he was gone. Then we bore Merapi home swooning. +</p> + +<p> +So this trouble passed by, but from that time forward Merapi would not suffer +her son to be taken out of her sight. +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you make so much of him, Lady?” I asked one day. +</p> + +<p> +“Because I would love him well while he is here, Friend,” she +answered, “but of this say nothing to his father.” +</p> + +<p> +A while went by and we heard that still Pharaoh would not let the Israelites +go. Then the Prince Seti sent Bakenkhonsu and myself to Tanis to see Pharaoh +and to say to him: +</p> + +<p> +“I seek nothing for myself and I forget those evils which you would have +worked on me through jealousy. But I say unto you that if you will not let +these strangers go great and terrible things shall befall you and all Egypt. +Therefore, hear my prayer and let them go.” +</p> + +<p> +Now Bakenkhonsu and I came before Pharaoh and we saw that he was greatly aged, +for his hair had gone grey about his temples and the flesh hung in bags beneath +his eyes. Also not for one minute could he stay still. +</p> + +<p> +“Is your lord, and are you also of the servants of this Hebrew prophet +whom the Egyptians worship as a god because he has done them so much +ill?” he asked. “It may well be so, since I hear that my cousin +Seti keeps an Israelitish witch in his house, who wards off from him all the +plagues that have smitten the rest of Egypt, and that to him has fled also Ki +the Kherheb, my magician. Moreover, I hear that in payment for these wizardries +he has been promised the throne of Egypt by many fickle and fearful ones among +my people. Let him be careful lest I lift him up higher than he hopes, who +already have enough traitors in this land; and you two with him.” +</p> + +<p> +Now I said nothing, who saw that the man was mad, but Bakenkhonsu laughed out +loud and answered: +</p> + +<p> +“O Pharaoh, I know little, but I know this although I be old, namely, +that after men have ceased to speak your name I shall still hold converse with +the wearer of the Double Crown in Egypt. Now will you let these Hebrews go, or +will you bring death upon Egypt?” +</p> + +<p> +Pharaoh glared at him and answered, “I will not let them go.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not, Pharaoh? Tell me, for I am curious.” +</p> + +<p> +“Because I cannot,” he answered with a groan. “Because +something stronger than myself forces me to deny their prayer. Begone!” +</p> + +<p> +So we went, and this was the last time that I looked upon Amenmeses at Tanis. +</p> + +<p> +As we left the chamber I saw the Hebrew prophet entering the presence. +Afterwards a rumour reached us that he had threatened to kill all the people in +Egypt, but that still Pharaoh would not let the Israelites depart. Indeed, it +was said that he had told the prophet that if he appeared before him any more +he should be put to death. +</p> + +<p> +Now we journeyed back to Memphis with all these tidings and made report to +Seti. When Merapi heard them she went half mad, weeping and wringing her hands. +I asked her what she feared. She answered death, which was near to all of us. I +said: +</p> + +<p> +“If so, there are worse things, Lady.” +</p> + +<p> +“For you mayhap who are faithful and good in your own fashion, but not +for me. Do you not understand, friend Ana, that I am one who has broken the law +of the God I was taught to worship?” +</p> + +<p> +“And which of us is there who has not broken the law of the god we were +taught to worship, Lady? If in truth you have done anything of the sort by +flying from a murderous villain to one who loves you well, which I do not +believe, surely there is forgiveness for such sins as this.” +</p> + +<p> +“Aye, perhaps, but, alas! the thing is blacker far. Have you forgotten +what I did? Dressed in the robes of Isis I worshipped in the temple of Isis +with my boy playing the part of Horus on my bosom. It is a crime that can never +be forgiven to a Hebrew woman, Ana, for my God is a jealous God. Yet it is true +that Ki tricked me.” +</p> + +<p> +“If he had not, Lady, I think there would have been none of us left to +trick, seeing that the people were crazed with the dread of the darkness and +believed that it could be lifted by you alone, as indeed happened,” I +added somewhat doubtfully. +</p> + +<p> +“More of Ki’s tricks! Oh! do you not understand that the lifting of +the darkness at that moment was Ki’s work, because he wished the people +to believe that I am indeed a sorceress.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know. Perhaps that one day he may find a victim to bind to the +altar in his place. At least I know well that it is I who must pay the price, I +and my flesh and blood, whatever Ki may promise,” and she looked at the +sleeping child. +</p> + +<p> +“Do not be afraid, Lady,” I said. “Ki has left the palace and +you will see him no more.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, because the Prince was angry with him about the trick in the temple +of Isis. Therefore suddenly he went, or pretended to go, for how can one tell +where such a man may really be? But he will come back again. Bethink you, Ki +was the greatest magician in Egypt; even old Bakenkhonsu can remember none like +to him. Then he matches himself against the prophets of my people and +fails.” +</p> + +<p> +“But did he fail, Lady? What they did he did, sending among the +Israelites the plagues that your prophets had sent among us.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, some of them, but he was outpaced, or feared to be outpaced at +last. Is Ki a man to forget that? And if Ki chances really to believe that I am +his adversary and his master at this black work, as because of what happened in +the temple of Amon thousands believe to-day, will he not mete me my own measure +soon or late? Oh! I fear Ki, Ana, and I fear the people of Egypt, and were it +not for my lord beloved, I would flee away into the wilderness with my son, and +get me out of this haunted land! Hush! he wakes.” +</p> + +<p> +From this time forward until the sword fell there was great dread in Egypt. +None seemed to know exactly what they dreaded, but all thought that it had to +do with death. People went about mournfully looking over their shoulders as +though someone were following them, and at night they gathered together in +knots and talked in whispers. Only the Hebrews seemed to be glad and happy. +Moreover, they were making preparations for something new and strange. Thus +those Israelitish women who dwelt in Memphis began to sell what property they +had and to borrow of the Egyptians. Especially did they ask for the loan of +jewels, saying that they were about to celebrate a feast and wished to look +fine in the eyes of their countrymen. None refused them what they asked because +all were afraid of them. They even came to the palace and begged her ornaments +from Merapi, although she was a countrywoman of their own who had showed them +much kindness. Yes, and seeing that her son wore a little gold circlet on his +hair, one of them begged that also, nor did she say her nay. But, as it +chanced, the Prince entered, and seeing the woman with this royal badge in her +hand, grew very angry and forced her to restore it. +</p> + +<p> +“What is the use of crowns without heads to wear them?” she +sneered, and fled away laughing, with all that she had gathered. +</p> + +<p> +After she had heard that saying Merapi grew even sadder and more distraught +than she was before, and from her the trouble crept to Seti. He too became sad +and ill at ease, though when I asked him why he vowed he did not know, but +supposed it was because some new plague drew near. +</p> + +<p> +“Yet,” he added, “as I have made shift to live through nine +of them, I do not know why I should fear a tenth.” +</p> + +<p> +Still he did fear it, so much that he consulted Bakenkhonsu as to whether there +were any means by which the anger of the gods could be averted. +</p> + +<p> +Bakenkhonsu laughed and said he thought not, since always if the gods were not +angry about one thing they were angry about another. Having made the world they +did nothing but quarrel with it, or with other gods who had a hand in its +fashioning, and of these quarrels men were the victims. +</p> + +<p> +“Bear your woes, Prince,” he added, “if any come, for ere the +Nile has risen another fifty times at most, whether they have or have not been, +will be the same to you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you think that when we go west we die indeed, and that Osiris is +but another name for the sunset, Bakenkhonsu.” +</p> + +<p> +The old Councillor shook his great head, and answered: +</p> + +<p> +“No. If ever you should lose one whom you greatly love, take comfort, +Prince, for I do not think that life ends with death. Death is the nurse that +puts it to sleep, no more, and in the morning it will wake again to travel +through another day with those who have companioned it from the +beginning.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where do all the days lead it to at last, Bakenkhonsu?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ask that of Ki; I do not know.” +</p> + +<p> +“To Set with Ki, I am angered with him,” said the Prince, and went +away. +</p> + +<p> +“Not without reason, I think,” mused Bakenkhonsu, but when I asked +him what he meant, he would not or could not tell me. +</p> + +<p> +So the gloom deepened and the palace, which had been merry in its way, became +sad. None knew what was coming, but all knew that something was coming and +stretched out their hands to strive to protect that which they loved best from +the stroke of the warring gods. In the case of Seti and Merapi this was their +son, now a beautiful little lad who could run and prattle, one too of a strange +health and vigour for a child of the inbred race of the Ramessids. Never for a +minute was this boy allowed to be out of the sight of one or other of his +parents; indeed I saw little of Seti in those days and all our learned studies +came to nothing, because he was ever concerned with Merapi in playing nurse to +this son of his. +</p> + +<p> +When Userti was told of it, she said in the hearing of a friend of mine: +</p> + +<p> +“Without a doubt that is because he trains his bastard to fill the throne +of Egypt.” +</p> + +<p> +But, alas! all that the little Seti was doomed to fill was a coffin. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +It was a still, hot evening, so hot that Merapi had bid the nurse bring the +child’s bed and set it between two pillars of the great portico. There on +the bed he slept, lovely as Horus the divine. She sat by his side in a chair +that had feet shaped like to those of an antelope. Seti walked up and down the +terrace beyond the portico leaning on my shoulder, and talking by snatches of +this or that. Occasionally as he passed he would stay for a while to make sure +by the bright moonlight that all was well with Merapi and the child, as of late +it had become a habit with him to do. Then without speaking, for fear lest he +should awake the boy, he would smile at Merapi, who sat there brooding, her +head resting on her hand, and pass on. +</p> + +<p> +The night was very still. The palm leaves did not rustle, no jackals were +stirring, and even the shrill-voiced insects had ceased their cries. Moreover, +the great city below was quiet as a home of the dead. It was as though the +presage of some advancing doom scared the world to silence. For without doubt +doom was in the air. All felt it down to the nurse woman, who cowered close as +she dared to the chair of her mistress, and even in that heat shivered from +time to time. +</p> + +<p> +Presently little Seti awoke, and began to prattle about something he had +dreamed. +</p> + +<p> +“What did you dream, my son?” asked his father. +</p> + +<p> +“I dreamed,” he answered in his baby talk, “that a woman, +dressed as Mother was in the temple, took me by the hand and led me into the +air. I looked down, and saw you and Mother with white faces and crying. I began +to cry too, but the woman with the feather cap told me not as she was taking me +to a beautiful big star where Mother would soon come to find me.” +</p> + +<p> +The Prince and I looked at each other and Merapi feigned to busy herself with +hushing the child to sleep again. It drew towards midnight and still no one +seemed minded to go to rest. Old Bakenkhonsu appeared and began to say +something about the night being very strange and unrestful, when, suddenly, a +little bat that was flitting to and fro above us fell upon his head and thence +to the ground. We looked at it, and saw that it was dead. +</p> + +<p> +“Strange that the creature should have died thus,” said +Bakenkhonsu, when, behold! another fell to the ground near by. The black kitten +which belonged to Little Seti saw it fall and darted from beside his bed where +it was sleeping. Before ever it reached the bat, the creature wheeled round, +stood upon its hind legs, scratching at the air about it, then uttered one +pitiful cry and fell over dead. +</p> + +<p> +We stared at it, when suddenly far away a dog howled in a very piercing +fashion. Then a cow began to bale as these beasts do when they have lost their +calves. Next, quite close at hand but without the gates, there arose the +ear-curdling cry of a woman in agony, which on the instant seemed to be echoed +from every quarter, till the air was full of wailing. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Seti! Seti!” exclaimed Merapi, in a voice that was rather a +hiss than a whisper, “look at your son!” +</p> + +<p> +We sprang to where the babe lay, and looked. He had awakened and was staring +upward with wide-opened eyes and frozen face. The fear, if such it were, passed +from his features, though still he stared. He rose to his little feet, always +looking upwards. Then a smile came upon his face, a most beautiful smile; he +stretched out his arms, as though to clasp one who bent down towards him, and +fell backwards—quite dead. +</p> + +<p> +Seti stood still as a statue; we all stood still, even Merapi. Then she bent +down, and lifted the body of the boy. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, my lord,” she said, “there has fallen on you that +sorrow which Jabez my uncle warned you would come, if ever you had aught to do +with me. Now the curse of Israel has pierced my heart, and now our child, as Ki +the evil prophesied, has grown too great for greetings, or even for +farewells.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus she spoke in a cold and quiet voice, as one might speak of something long +expected or foreseen, then made her reverence to the Prince, and departed, +bearing the body of the child. Never, I think, did Merapi seem more beautiful +to me than in this, her hour of bereavement, since now through her +woman’s loveliness shone out some shadow of the soul within. Indeed, such +were her eyes and such her movements that well might it have been a spirit and +not a woman who departed from us with that which had been her son. +</p> + +<p> +Seti leaned on my shoulder looking at the empty bed, and at the scared nurse +who still sat behind, and I felt a tear drop upon my hand. Old Bakenkhonsu +lifted his massive face, and looked at him. +</p> + +<p> +“Grieve not over much, Prince,” he said, “since, ere as many +years as I have lived out have come and gone, this child will be forgotten and +his mother will be forgotten, and even you, O Prince, will live but as a name +that once was great in Egypt. And then, O Prince, elsewhere the game will begin +afresh, and what you have lost shall be found anew, and the sweeter for it +sheltering from the vile breath of men. Ki’s magic is not all a lie, or +if his is, mine holds some shadow of the truth, and when he said to you yonder +in Tanis that not for nothing were you named ‘Lord of Rebirths,’ he +spoke words that you should find comfortable to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thank you, Councillor,” said Seti, and turning, followed Merapi. +</p> + +<p> +“Now I suppose we shall have more deaths,” I exclaimed, hardly +knowing what I said in my sorrow. +</p> + +<p> +“I think not, Ana,” answered Bakenkhonsu, “since the shield +of Jabez, or of his god, is over us. Always he foretold that trouble would come +to Merapi, and to Seti through Merapi, but that is all.” +</p> + +<p> +I glanced at the kitten. +</p> + +<p> +“It strayed here from the town three days ago, Ana. And the bats also may +have flown from the town. Hark to the wailing. Was ever such a sound heard +before in Egypt?” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap16"></a>CHAPTER XVI.<br /> +JABEZ SELLS HORSES</h2> + +<p> +Bakenkhonsu was right. Save the son of Seti alone, none died who dwelt in or +about his house, though elsewhere all the first-born of Egypt lay dead, and the +first-born of the beasts also. When this came to be known throughout the land a +rage seized the Egyptians against Merapi who, they remembered, had called down +woe on Egypt after she had been forced to pray in the temple and, as they +believed, to lift the darkness from Memphis. +</p> + +<p> +Bakenkhonsu and I and others who loved her pointed out that her own child had +died with the rest. To this it was answered, and here I thought I saw the +fingers of Userti and of Ki, that it was nothing, since witches did not love +children. Moreover, they said she could have as many as she liked and when she +liked, making them to look like children out of clay figures and to grow up +into evil spirits to torment the land. Lastly, people swore that she had been +heard to say that, although to do it she must kill her own lord’s son, +she would not on that account forego her vengeance on the Egyptians, who once +had treated her as a slave and murdered her father. Further, the Israelites +themselves, or some of them, mayhap Laban among them, were reported to have +told the Egyptians that it was the sorceress who had bewitched Prince Seti who +brought such great troubles on them. +</p> + +<p> +So it happened that the Egyptians came to hate Merapi, who of all women was the +sweetest and the most to be loved, and to her other supposed crimes, added this +also, that by her witcheries she had stolen the heart of Seti away from his +lawful wife and made him to turn that lady, the Royal Princess of Egypt, even +from his gates, so that she was forced to dwell alone at Tanis. For in all +these matters none blamed Seti, whom everyone in Egypt loved, because it was +known that he would have dealt with the Israelites in a very different fashion, +and thus averted all the woes that had desolated the ancient land of Khem. As +for this matter of the Hebrew girl with the big eyes who chanced to have thrown +a spell upon him, that was his ill-fortune, nothing more. Amongst the many +women with whom they believed he filled his house, as was the way of princes, +it was not strange that one favourite should be a witch. Indeed, I am certain +that only because he was known to love her, was Merapi saved from death by +poison or in some other secret fashion, at any rate for a while. +</p> + +<p> +Now came the glad tidings that the pride of Pharaoh was broken at last (for his +first-born child had died with the others), or that the cloud of madness had +lifted from his brain, whichever it might be, and that he had decreed that the +Children of Israel might depart from Egypt when and whither they would. Then +the people breathed again, seeing hope that their miseries might end. +</p> + +<p> +It was at this time that Jabez appeared once more at Memphis, driving a number +of chariot horses, which he said he wished to sell to the Prince, as he did not +desire them to pass into any other hands. He was admitted and stated the price +of his horses, according to which they must have been beasts of great value. +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you wish to sell your horses?” asked Seti. +</p> + +<p> +“Because I go with my people into lands where there is little water and +there they might die, O Prince.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will buy the horses. See to it, Ana,” said Seti, although I knew +well that already he had more than he needed. +</p> + +<p> +The Prince rose to show that the interview was ended, whereon Jabez, who was +bowing his thanks, said hurriedly: +</p> + +<p> +“I rejoice to learn, O Royal One, that things have befallen as I +foretold, or rather was bidden to foretell, and that the troubles which have +afflicted Egypt have passed by your dwelling.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you rejoice to learn a falsehood, Hebrew, since the worst of those +troubles has made its home here. My son is dead,” and he turned away. +</p> + +<p> +Jabez lifted his shifty eyes from the floor and glanced at him. +</p> + +<p> +“Prince,” he said, “I know and grieve because this loss has +cut you to the heart. Yet it was no fault of mine or of my people. If you +think, you will remember that both when I built a wall of protection about this +place because of your good deeds to Israel, O Prince, and before, I warned, and +caused you to be warned, that if you and my niece, Moon of Israel, came +together a great trouble might fall on you through her who, having become the +woman of an Egyptian in defiance of command, must bear the fate of Egyptian +women.” +</p> + +<p> +“It may be so,” said the Prince. “The matter is not one of +which I care to talk. If this death were wrought by the magic of your wizards I +have only this to say—that it is an ill payment to me in return for all +that I have striven to do on behalf of the Hebrews. Yet, what else could I +expect from such a people in such a world? Farewell.” +</p> + +<p> +“One prayer, O Prince. I would ask your leave to speak with my niece, +Merapi.” +</p> + +<p> +“She is veiled. Since the murder of her child by wizardry, she sees no +man.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still I think she will see her uncle, O Prince.” +</p> + +<p> +“What then do you wish to say to her?” +</p> + +<p> +“O Prince, through the clemency of Pharaoh we poor slaves are about to +leave the land of Egypt never to return. Therefore, if my niece remains behind, +it is natural that I should wish to bid her farewell, and to confide to her +certain matters connected with our race and family, which she might desire to +pass on to her children.” +</p> + +<p> +Now when he heard this word “children” Seti softened. +</p> + +<p> +“I do not trust you,” he said. “You may be charged with more +of your Hebrew curses against Merapi, or you may say words to her that will +make her even unhappier than she is. Yet if you would wish to see her in my +presence——” +</p> + +<p> +“My lord Prince, I will not trouble you so far. Farewell. Be pleased to +convey——” +</p> + +<p> +“Or if that does not suit you,” interrupted Seti, “in the +presence of Ana here you can do so, unless she refuses to receive you.” +</p> + +<p> +Jabez reflected for a moment, and answered: +</p> + +<p> +“Then in the presence of Ana let it be, since he is a man who knows when +to be silent.” +</p> + +<p> +Jabez made obeisance and departed, and at a sign from the Prince I followed +him. Presently we were ushered into the chamber of the lady Merapi, where she +sat looking most sad and lonely, with a veil of black upon her head. +</p> + +<p> +“Greeting, my uncle,” she said, after glancing at me, whose +presence I think she understood. “Are you the bearer of more prophecies? +I pray not, since your last were overtrue,” and she touched the black +veil with her finger. +</p> + +<p> +“I am the bearer of tidings, and of a prayer, Niece. The tidings are that +the people of Israel are about to leave Egypt. The prayer, which is also a +command, is—that you make ready to accompany them——” +</p> + +<p> +“To Laban?” she asked, looking up. +</p> + +<p> +“No, my niece. Laban would not wish as a wife one who has been the +mistress of an Egyptian, but to play your part, however humble, in the fortunes +of our people.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am glad that Laban does not wish what he never could obtain, my uncle. +Tell me, I pray you, why should I hearken to this prayer, or this +command?” +</p> + +<p> +“For a good reason, Niece—that your life hangs on it. Heretofore +you have been suffered to take your heart’s desire. But if you bide in +Egypt where you have no longer a mission to fulfil, having done all that was +sought of you in keeping the mind of your lover, the Prince Seti, true to the +cause of Israel, you will surely die.” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean that our people will kill me?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, not our people. Still you will die.” +</p> + +<p> +She took a step towards him, and looked him in the eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“You are certain that I shall die, my uncle?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am, or at least others are certain.” +</p> + +<p> +Now she laughed; it was the first time I had seen her laugh for several moons. +</p> + +<p> +“Then I will stay here,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +Jabez stared at her. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought that you loved this Egyptian, who indeed is worthy of any +woman’s love,” he muttered into his beard. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps it is because I love him that I wish to die. I have given him +all I have to give; there is nothing left of my poor treasure except what will +bring trouble and misfortune on his head. Therefore the greater the +love—and it is more great than all those pyramids massed to one—the +greater the need that it should be buried for a while. Do you understand?” +</p> + +<p> +He shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“I understand only that you are a very strange woman, different from any +other that I have known.” +</p> + +<p> +“My child, who was slain with the rest, was all the world to me, and I +would be where he is. Do you understand now?” +</p> + +<p> +“You would leave your life, in which, being young, you may have more +children, to lie in a tomb with your dead son?” he asked slowly, like one +astonished. +</p> + +<p> +“I only care for life while it can serve him whom I love, and if a day +comes when he sits upon the throne how will a daughter of the hated Israelites +serve him then? Also I do not wish for more children. Living or dead, he that +is gone owns all my heart; there is no room in it for others. That love at +least is pure and perfect, and having been embalmed by death, can never change. +Moreover, it is not in a tomb that I shall lie with him, or so I believe. The +faith of these Egyptians which we despise tells of a life eternal in the +heavens, and thither I would go to seek that which is lost, and to wait that +which is left behind awhile.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” said Jabez. “For my part I do not trouble myself with +these problems, who find in a life temporal on the earth enough to fill my +thoughts and hands. Yet, Merapi, you are a rebel, and whether in heaven or on +earth, how are rebels received by the king against whom they have +rebelled?” +</p> + +<p> +“You say I am a rebel,” she said, turning on him with flashing +eyes. “Why? Because I would not dishonour myself by marrying a man I +hate, one also who is a murderer, and because while I live I will not desert a +man whom I love to return to those who have done me naught but evil. Did God +then make women to be sold like cattle of the field for the pleasure and the +profit of him who can pay the highest?” +</p> + +<p> +“It seems so,” said Jabez, spreading out his hands. +</p> + +<p> +“It seems that you think so, who fashion God as you would wish him to be, +but for my part I do not believe it, and if I did, I should seek another king. +My uncle, I appeal from the priest and the elder to That which made both them +and me, and by Its judgment I will stand or fall.” +</p> + +<p> +“Always a very dangerous thing to do,” reflected Jabez aloud, +“since the priest is apt to take the law into his own hands before the +cause can be pleaded elsewhere. Still, who am I that I should set up my +reasonings against one who can grind Amon to powder in his own sanctuary, and +who therefore may have warrant for all she thinks and does?” +</p> + +<p> +Merapi stamped her foot. +</p> + +<p> +“You know well it was you who brought me the command to dare the god Amon +in his temple. It was not I——” she began. +</p> + +<p> +“I do know,” replied Jabez waving his hand. “I know also that +is what every wizard says, whatever his nation or his gods, and what no one +ever believes. Thus because, having faith, you obeyed the command and through +you Amon was smitten, among both the Israelites and the Egyptians you are held +to be the greatest sorceress that has looked upon the Nile, and that is a +dangerous repute, my niece.” +</p> + +<p> +“One to which I lay no claim, and never sought.” +</p> + +<p> +“Just so, but which all the same has come to you. Well, knowing as +without doubt you do all that will soon befall in Egypt, and having been +warned, if you needed warning, of the danger with which you yourself are +threatened, you still refuse to obey this second command which it is my duty to +deliver to you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I refuse.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then on your own head be it, and farewell. Oh! I would add that there is +a certain property in cattle, and the fruit of lands which descends to you from +your father. In the event of your death——” +</p> + +<p> +“Take it all, uncle, and may it prosper you. Farewell.” +</p> + +<p> +“A great woman, friend Ana, and a beautiful,” said the old Hebrew, +after he had watched her go. “I grieve that I shall never see her again, +and, indeed, that no one will see her for very long; for, remember, she is my +niece of whom I am fond. Now I too must be going, having completed my errand. +All good fortune to you, Ana. You are no longer a soldier, are you? No? Believe +me, it is as well, as you will learn. My homage to the Prince. Think of me at +times, when you grow old, and not unkindly, seeing that I have served you as +best I could, and your master also, who I hope will soon find again that which +he lost awhile ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“Her Highness, Princess Userti,” I suggested. +</p> + +<p> +“The Princess Userti among other things, Ana. Tell the Prince, if he +should deem them costly, that those horses which I sold him are really of the +finest Syrian blood, and of a strain that my family has owned for generations. +If you should chance to have any friend whose welfare you desire, let him not +go into the desert soldiering during the next few moons, especially if Pharaoh +be in command. Nay, I know nothing, but it is a season of great storm. +Farewell, friend Ana, and again farewell.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now what did he mean by that?” thought I to myself, as I departed +to make my report to Seti. But no answer to the question rose in my mind. +</p> + +<p> +Very soon I began to understand. It appeared that at length the Israelites were +leaving Egypt, a vast horde of them, and with them tens of thousands of Arabs +of various tribes who worshipped their god and were, some of them, descended +from the people of the Hyksos, the shepherds who once ruled in Egypt. That this +was true was proved to us by the tidings which reached us that all the Hebrew +women who dwelt in Memphis, even those of them who were married to Egyptians, +had departed from the city, leaving behind them their men and sometimes their +children. Indeed, before these went, certain of them who had been friends +visited Merapi, and asked her if she were not coming also. She shook her head +as she replied: +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you go? Are you so fond of journeyings in the desert that for the +sake of them you are ready never again to look upon the men you love and the +children of your bodies?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, Lady,” they answered, weeping. “We are happy here in +white-walled Memphis and here, listening to the murmur of the Nile, we would +grow old and die, rather than strive to keep house in some desert tent with a +stranger or alone. Yet fear drives us hence.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fear of what?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of the Egyptians who, when they come to understand all that they have +suffered at our hands in return for the wealth and shelter which they have +given us for many generations, whereby we have grown from a handful into a +great people, will certainly kill any Israelite whom they find left among them. +Also we fear the curses of our priests who bid us to depart.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then <i>I</i> should fear these things also,” said Merapi. +</p> + +<p> +“Not so, Lady, seeing that being the only beloved of the Prince of Egypt +who, rumour tells us, will soon be Pharaoh of Egypt, by him you will be +protected from the anger of the Egyptians. And being, as we all know well, the +greatest sorceress in the world, the overthrower of Amon-Ra the mighty, and one +who by sacrificing her child was able to ward away every plague from the +household where she dwelt, you have naught to fear from priests and their +magic.” +</p> + +<p> +Then Merapi sprang up, bidding them to leave her to her fate and to be gone to +their own, which they did hastily enough, fearing lest she should cast some +spell upon them. So it came about that presently the fair Moon of Israel and +certain children of mixed blood were all of the Hebrew race that were left in +Egypt. Then, notwithstanding the miseries and misfortunes that during the past +few years by terror, death, and famine had reduced them to perhaps one half of +their number, the people of Egypt rejoiced with a great joy. +</p> + +<p> +In every temple of every god processions were held and offerings made by those +who had anything left to offer, while the statues of the gods were dressed in +fine new garments and hung about with garlandings of flowers. Moreover, on the +Nile and on the sacred lakes boats floated to and fro, adorned with lanterns as +at the feast of the Rising of Osiris. As titular high-priest of Amon, an office +of which he could not be deprived while he lived, Prince Seti attended these +demonstrations, which indeed he must do, in the great temple of Memphis, +whither I accompanied him. When the ceremonies were over he led the procession +through the masses of the worshippers, clad in his splendid sacerdotal robes, +whereon every throat of the thousands present there greeted him in a shout of +thunder as “Pharaoh!” or at least as Pharaoh’s heir. +</p> + +<p> +When at length the shouting died, he turned upon them and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Friends, if you would send me to be of the company that sits at the +table of Osiris and not at Pharaoh’s feasts, you will repeat this foolish +greeting, whereof our Lord Amenmeses will hear with little joy.” +</p> + +<p> +In the silence that followed a voice called out: +</p> + +<p> +“Have no fear, O Prince, while the Hebrew witch sleeps night by night +upon your bosom. She who could smite Egypt with so many plagues can certainly +shelter you from harm;” whereon the roars of acclamation went up again. +</p> + +<p> +It was on the following day that Bakenkhonsu the aged returned with more +tidings from Tanis, where he had been upon a visit. It seemed that a great +council had been held there in the largest hall of one of the largest temples. +At this council, which was open to all the people, Amenmeses had given report +on the matter of the Israelites who, he stated, were departing in their +thousands. Also offerings were made to appease the angry gods of Egypt. When +the ceremony was finished, but before the company broke up in a heavy mood, her +Highness the Princess Userti rose in her place, and addressed Pharaoh: +</p> + +<p> +“By the spirits of our fathers,” she cried, “and more +especially by that of the good god Meneptah, my begetter, I ask of you, +Pharaoh, and I ask of you, O people, whether the affront that has been put upon +us by these Hebrew slaves and their magicians is one that the proud land of +Egypt should be called upon to bear? Our gods have been smitten and defied; +woes great and terrible, such as history tells not of, have fallen upon us +through magic; tens of thousands, from the first-born child of Pharaoh down, +have perished in a single night. And now these Hebrews, who have murdered them +by sorcery, for they are sorcerers all, men and women together, especially one +of them who sits at Memphis, of whom I will not speak because she has wrought +me private harm, by the decree of Pharaoh are to be suffered to leave the land. +More, they are to take with them all their cattle, all their threshed corn, all +the treasure they have hoarded for generations, and all the ornaments of price +and wealth that they have wrung by terror from our own people, borrowing that +which they never purpose to return. Therefore I, the Royal Princess of Egypt, +would ask of Pharaoh, is this the decree of Pharaoh?” +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” said Bakenkhonsu, “Pharaoh sat with hanging head upon +his throne and made no answer.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pharaoh does not speak,” went on Userti. “Then I ask, is +this the decree of the Council of Pharaoh and of the people of Egypt? There is +still a great army in Egypt, hundreds of chariots and thousands of footmen. Is +this army to sit still while these slaves depart into the desert there to rouse +our enemies of Syria against us and return with them to butcher us?” +</p> + +<p> +“At these words,” continued Bakenkhonsu, “from all that +multitude there went up a shout of ‘No.’” +</p> + +<p> +“The people say No. What saith Pharaoh?” cried Userti. +</p> + +<p> +There followed a silence, till suddenly Amenmeses rose and spoke: +</p> + +<p> +“Have it as you will, Princess, and on your head and the heads of all +these whom you have stirred up let the evil fall if evil comes, though I think +it is your husband, the Prince Seti, who should stand where you stand and put +up this prayer in your place.” +</p> + +<p> +“My husband, the Prince Seti, is tied to Memphis by a rope of +witch’s hair, or so they tell me,” she sneered, while the people +murmured in assent. +</p> + +<p> +“I know not,” went on Amenmeses, “but this I know that always +the Prince would have let these Hebrews go from among us, and at times, as +sorrow followed sorrow, I have thought that he was right. Truly more than once +I also would have let them go, but ever some Strength, I know not what, +descended on my heart, turning it to stone, and wrung from me words that I did +not desire to utter. Even now I would let them go, but all of you are against +me, and, perchance, if I withstand you, I shall pay for it with my life and +throne. Captains, command that my armies be made ready, and let them assemble +here at Tanis that I myself may lead them after the people of Israel and share +their dangers.” +</p> + +<p> +Then with a mighty shouting the company broke up, so that at the last all were +gone and only Pharaoh remained seated upon his throne, staring at the ground +with the air, said Bakenkhonsu, rather of one who is dead than of a living king +about to wage war upon his foes. +</p> + +<p> +To all these words the Prince listened in silence, but when they were finished +he looked up and asked: +</p> + +<p> +“What think you, Bakenkhonsu?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think, O Prince,” answered the wise old man, “that her +Highness did ill to stir up this matter, though doubtless she spoke with the +voices of the priests and of the army, against which Pharaoh was not strong +enough to stand.” +</p> + +<p> +“What you think, I think,” said Seti. +</p> + +<p> +At this moment the lady Merapi entered. +</p> + +<p> +“I hear, my lord,” she said, “that Pharaoh purposes to pursue +the people of Israel with his host. I come to pray my lord that he will not +join himself to the host of Pharaoh.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is but natural, Lady, that you should not wish me to make war upon +your kin, and to speak truth I have no mind that way,” replied Seti, and, +turning, left the chamber with her. +</p> + +<p> +“She is not thinking of her king but of her lover’s life,” +said Bakenkhonsu. “She is not a witch as they declare, but it is true +that she knows what we do not.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” I answered, “it is true.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap17"></a>CHAPTER XVII.<br /> +THE DREAM OF MERAPI</h2> + +<p> +A while went by; it may have been fourteen days, during which we heard that the +Israelites had started on their journey. They were a mighty multitude who bore +with them the coffin and the mummy of their prophet, a man of their blood, +Vizier, it is reported, to that Pharaoh who welcomed them to Egypt hundreds of +years before. Some said they went this way and some that, but Bakenkhonsu, who +knew everything, declared that they were heading for the Lake of Crocodiles, +which others name Sea of Reeds, whereby they would cross into the desert +beyond, and thence to Syria. I asked him how, seeing that at its narrowest +part, this lake was six thousand paces in width, and that the depth of its mud +was unfathomable. He replied that he did not know, but that I might do well to +inquire of the lady Merapi. +</p> + +<p> +“So you have changed your mind, and also think her a witch,” I +said, to which he answered: +</p> + +<p> +“One must breathe the wind that blows, and Egypt is so full of witchcraft +that it is difficult to say. Also it was she and no other who destroyed the +ancient statue of Amon. Oh! yes, witch or no witch, it might be well to ask her +how her people purpose to cross the Sea of Reeds, especially if Pharaoh’s +chariots chance to be behind them.” +</p> + +<p> +So I did ask her, but she answered that she knew nothing of the matter, and +wished to know nothing, seeing that she had separated from her people, and +remained in Egypt. +</p> + +<p> +Then Ki came, I know not whence, and having made his peace with Seti as to the +dressing of Merapi in the robes of Isis which, he vowed, was done by the +priests against his wish, told us that Pharaoh and a great host had started to +pursue the Israelites. The Prince asked him why he had not gone with the host, +to which he replied that he was no soldier, also that Pharaoh hid his face from +him. In return he asked the Prince why <i>he</i> had not gone. +</p> + +<p> +Seti answered, because he had been deprived of his command with his other +officers and had no wish to take share in this business as a private citizen. +</p> + +<p> +“You are wise, as always, Prince,” said Ki. +</p> + +<p> +It was on the following night, very late, while the Prince, Ki, Bakenkhonsu and +I, Ana, sat talking, that suddenly the lady Merapi broke in upon us as she had +risen from her bed, wild-eyed, and with her hair flowing down her robes. +</p> + +<p> +“I have dreamed a dream!” she cried. “I dreamed that I saw +all the thousands of my people following after a flame that burned from earth +to heaven. They came to the edge of a great water and behind them rushed +Pharaoh and all the hosts of the Egyptians. Then my people ran on to the face +of the water, and it bore them as though it were sound land. Now the soldiers +of the Pharaoh were following, but the gods of Egypt appeared, Amon, Osiris, +Horus, Isis, Hathor, and the rest, and would have turned them back. Still they +refused to listen, and dragging the gods with them, rushed out upon the water. +Then darkness fell, and in the darkness sounds of wailing and of a mighty +laughter. It passed, the moon rose, shining upon emptiness. I awoke, trembling +in my limbs. Interpret me this dream if you can, O Ki, Master of Magic.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where is the need, Lady,” he answered, awaking as though from +sleep, “when the dreamer is also the seer? Shall the pupil venture to +instruct the teacher, or the novice to make plain the mysteries to the +high-priestess of the temple? Nay, Lady, I and all the magicians of Egypt are +beneath your feet.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why will you ever mock me?” she said, and as she spoke, she +shivered. +</p> + +<p> +Then Bakenkhonsu opened his lips, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“The wisdom of Ki has been buried in a cloud of late, and gives no light +to us, his disciples. Yet the meaning of this dream is plain, though whether it +be also true I do not know. It is that all the host of Egypt, and with it the +gods of Egypt, are threatened with destruction because of the Israelites, +unless one to whom they will hearken can be found to turn them from some +purpose that I do not understand. But to whom will the mad hearken, oh! to whom +will they hearken?” and lifting his great head, he looked straight at the +Prince. +</p> + +<p> +“Not to me, I fear, who now am no one in Egypt,” said Seti. +</p> + +<p> +“Why not to you, O Prince, who to-morrow may be everyone in Egypt?” +asked Bakenkhonsu. “Always you have pleaded the cause of the Hebrews, and +said that naught but evil would befall Egypt because of them, as has happened. +To whom, then, will the people and the army listen more readily?” +</p> + +<p> +“Moreover, O Prince,” broke in Ki, “a lady of your household +has dreamed a very evil dream, of which, if naught be said, it might be held +that it was no dream, but a spell of power aimed against the majesty of Egypt; +such a spell as that which cast great Amon from his throne, such a spell as +that which has set a magic fence around this house and field.” +</p> + +<p> +“Again I tell you that I weave no spells, O Ki, who with my own child +have paid the price of them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yet spells were woven, Lady, and as has been known from of old, strength +is perfected in sacrifice alone,” Ki answered darkly. +</p> + +<p> +“Have done with your talk of spells, Magician,” exclaimed the +Prince, “or if you must speak of them, speak of your own, which are many. +It was Jabez who protected us here against the plagues, and the statue of Amon +was shattered by some god.” +</p> + +<p> +“I ask your pardon, Prince,” said Ki bowing, “it was +<i>not</i> this lady but her uncle who fenced your house against the plagues +which ravaged Egypt, and it was <i>not</i> this lady but some god working in +her which overthrew Amon of Tanis. The Prince has said it. Yet this lady has +dreamed a certain dream which Bakenkhonsu has interpreted although I cannot, +and I think that Pharaoh and his captains should be told of the dream, that on +it they may form their own judgment.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then why do you not tell them, Ki?” +</p> + +<p> +“It has pleased Pharaoh, O Prince, to dismiss me from his service as one +who failed and to give my office of Kherheb to another. If I appear before the +face of Pharaoh I shall be killed.” +</p> + +<p> +Now I, Ana, listening, wished that Ki would appear before the face of Pharaoh, +although I did not believe that he could be killed by him or by anybody else, +since against death he had charms. For I was afraid of Ki, and felt in myself +that again he was plotting evil to Merapi whom I knew to be innocent. +</p> + +<p> +The Prince walked up and down the chamber as was his fashion when lost in +thought. Presently he stopped opposite to me and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Friend Ana, be pleased to command that my chariots be made ready with a +general’s escort of a hundred men and spare horses to each chariot. We +ride at dawn, you and I, to seek out the army of Pharaoh and pray audience of +Pharaoh.” +</p> + +<p> +“My lord,” said Merapi in a kind of cry, “I pray you go not, +leaving me alone.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why should I leave you, Lady? Come with me if you will.” She shook +her head, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“I dare not. Prince, there has been some charm upon me of late that draws +me back to my own people. Twice in the night I have awakened and found myself +in the gardens with my face set towards the north, and heard a voice in my +ears, even that of my father who is dead, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“‘Moon of Israel, thy people wander in the wilderness and need thy +light.’ +</p> + +<p> +“It is certain therefore that if I came near to them I should be dragged +down as wood is dragged of an eddy, nor would Egypt see me any more.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I pray you bide where you are, Merapi,” said the Prince, +laughing a little, “since it is certain that where you go I must follow, +who have no desire to wander in the wilderness with your Hebrew folk. Well, it +seems that as you do not wish to leave Memphis and will not come with me, I +must stay with you.” +</p> + +<p> +Ki fixed his piercing eyes upon the pair of them. +</p> + +<p> +“Let the Prince forgive me,” he said, “but I swear it by the +gods that never did I think to live to hear the Prince Seti Meneptah set a +woman’s whims before his honour.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your words are rough,” said Seti, drawing himself up, “and +had they been spoken in other days, mayhap, Ki——” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! my lord,” said Ki prostrating himself till his forehead +touched the ground, “bethink you then how great must be the need which +makes me dare to speak them. When first I came hither from the court of Tanis, +the spirit that is within me speaking through my lips gave certain titles to +your Highness, for which your Highness was pleased to reprove me. Yet the +spirit in me cannot lie and I know well, and bid all here make record of my +words, that to-night I stand in the presence of him who ere two moons have +passed will be crowned Pharaoh.” +</p> + +<p> +“Truly you were ever a bearer of ill-tidings, Ki, but if so, what of +it?” +</p> + +<p> +“This your Highness: Were it not that the spirits of Truth and Right +compel me for their own reasons, should I, who have blood that can be shed or +bones that can be broken, dare to hurl hard words at him who will be Pharaoh? +Should I dare to cross the will of the sweet dove who nestles on his heart, the +wise, white dove that murmurs the mysteries of heaven, whence she came, and is +stronger than the vulture of Isis and swifter than the hawk of Ra; the dove +that, were she angry, could rend me into more fragments than did Set +Osiris?” +</p> + +<p> +Now I saw Bakenkhonsu begin to swell with inward laughter like a frog about to +croak, but Seti answered in a weary voice: +</p> + +<p> +“By all the birds of Egypt with the sacred crocodiles thrown in, I do not +know, since that mind of yours, Ki, is not an open writing which can be read by +the passer-by. Still, if you would tell me what is the reason with which the +goddesses of Truth and Justice have inspired you——” +</p> + +<p> +“The reason is, O Prince, that the fate of all Egypt’s army may be +hidden in your hand. The time is short and I will be plain. Deny it as she will +this lady here, who seems to be but a thing of love and beauty, is the greatest +sorceress in Egypt, as I whom she has mastered know well. She matched herself +against the high god of Egypt and smote him to the dust, and has paid back upon +him, his prophets, and his worshippers the ills that he would have worked to +her, as in the like case any of our fellowship would do. Now she has dreamed a +dream, or her spirit has told her that the army of Egypt is in danger of +destruction, and I know that this dream is true. Hasten then, O Prince, to save +the hosts of Egypt, which you will surely need when you come to sit upon its +throne.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am no sorceress,” cried Merapi, “and yet—alas! that +I must say it—this smiling-featured, cold-eyed wizard’s words are +true. <i>The sword of death hangs over the hosts of Egypt!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“Command that the chariots be made ready,” said Seti again. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Eight days had gone by. It was sunset and we drew rein over against the Sea of +Reeds. Day and night we had followed the army of Pharaoh across the wilderness +on a road beaten down by his chariot wheels and soldiers, and by the tens of +thousands of the Israelites who had passed that way before them. Now from the +ridge where we had halted we saw it encamped beneath us, a very great army. +Moreover, stragglers told us that beyond, also encamped, was the countless +horde of the Israelites, and beyond these the vast Sea of Reeds which barred +their path. But we could not see them for a very strange reason. Between these +and the army of Pharaoh rose a black wall of cloud, built as it were from earth +to heaven. One of those stragglers of whom I have spoken, told us that this +cloud travelled before the Israelites by day, but at night was turned into a +pillar of fire. Only on this day, when the army of Pharaoh approached, it had +moved round and come between the people of Israel and the army. +</p> + +<p> +Now when the Prince, Bakenkhonsu, and I heard these things we looked at each +other and were silent. Only presently the Prince laughed a little, and said: +</p> + +<p> +“We should have brought Ki with us, even if we had to carry him bound, +that he might interpret this marvel, for it is sure that no one else can.” +</p> + +<p> +“It would be hard to keep Ki bound, Prince, if he wished to go +free,” answered Bakenkhonsu. “Moreover, before ever we entered the +chariots at Memphis he had departed south for Thebes. I saw him go.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I gave orders that he should not be allowed to return, for I hold +him an ill guest, or so thinks the lady Merapi,” replied Seti with a sigh. +</p> + +<p> +“Now that we are here what would the Prince do?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Descend to the camp of Pharaoh and say what we have to say, Ana.” +</p> + +<p> +“And if he will not listen, Prince?” +</p> + +<p> +“Then cry our message aloud and return.” +</p> + +<p> +“And if he will not suffer us to return, Prince?” +</p> + +<p> +“Then stand still and live or die as the gods may decree.” +</p> + +<p> +“Truly our lord has a great heart!” exclaimed Bakenkhonsu, +“and though I feel over young to die, I am minded to see the end of this +matter with him,” and he laughed aloud. +</p> + +<p> +But I who was afraid thought that <i>O-ho-ho</i> of his, which the sky seemed +to echo back upon our heads, a strange and indeed a fearful sound. +</p> + +<p> +Then we put on robes of ceremony that we had brought with us, but neither +swords nor armour, and having eaten some food, drove on with the half of our +guard towards the place where we saw the banners of Pharaoh flying about his +pavilion. The rest of our guard we left encamped, bidding them, if aught +happened to us, to return and make report at Memphis and in the other great +cities. As we drew near to the camp the outposts saw us and challenged. But +when they perceived by the light of the setting sun who it was that they +challenged, a murmur went through them, of: +</p> + +<p> +“The Prince of Egypt! The Prince of Egypt!” for so they had never +ceased to name Seti, and they saluted with their spears and let us pass. +</p> + +<p> +So at length we came to the pavilion of Pharaoh, round about which a whole +regiment stood on guard. The sides of it were looped up high because of the +heat of the night which was great, and within sat Pharaoh, his captains, his +councillors, his priests, his magicians, and many others at meat or serving +food and drink. They sat at a table that was bent like a bow, with their faces +towards the entrance, and Pharaoh was in the centre of the table with his +fan-bearers and butlers behind him. +</p> + +<p> +We advanced into the pavilion, the Prince in the centre, Bakenkhonsu leaning on +his staff on the right hand, and I, wearing the gold chain that Pharaoh +Meneptah had given me, on the left, but those with us remained among the guard +at the entrance. +</p> + +<p> +“Who are these?” asked Amenmeses, looking up, “who come here +unbidden?” +</p> + +<p> +“Three citizens of Egypt who have a message for Pharaoh,” answered +Seti in his quiet voice, “which we have travelled fast and far to speak +in time.” +</p> + +<p> +“How are you named, citizens of Egypt, and who sends your message?” +</p> + +<p> +“We are named, Seti Meneptah aforetime Prince of Egypt, and heir to its +crown; Bakenkhonsu the aged Councillor, and Ana the scribe and King’s +Companion, and our message is from the gods.” +</p> + +<p> +“We have heard those names, who has not?” said Pharaoh, and as he +spoke all, or very nearly all, the company rose, or half rose, and bowed +towards the Prince. “Will you and your companions be seated and eat, +Prince Seti Meneptah?” +</p> + +<p> +“We thank the divine Pharaoh, but we have already eaten. Have we +Pharaoh’s leave to deliver our message?” +</p> + +<p> +“Speak on, Prince.” +</p> + +<p> +“O Pharaoh, many moons have gone by, since last we looked upon each other +face to face, on that day when my father, the good god Meneptah, disinherited +me, and afterwards fled hence to Osiris. Pharaoh will remember why I was thus +cut off from the royal root of Egypt. It was because of the matter of these +Israelites, who in my judgment had been evilly dealt by, and should be suffered +to leave our land. The good god Meneptah, being so advised by you and others, O +Pharaoh, would have smitten the Israelites with the sword, making an end of +them, and to this he demanded my assent as the Heir of Egypt. I refused that +assent and was cast out, and since then, you, O Pharaoh, have worn the double +crown, while I have dwelt as a citizen of Memphis, living upon such lands and +revenues as are my own. Between that hour and this, O Pharaoh, many griefs have +smitten Egypt, and the last of them cost you your first-born, and me mine. Yet +through them all, O Pharaoh, you have refused to let these Hebrews go, as I +counselled should be done at the beginning. At length after the death of the +first-born, your decree was issued that they might go. Yet now you follow them +with a great army and purpose to do to them what my father, the good god +Meneptah, would have done, had I consented, namely—to destroy them with +the sword. Hear me, Pharaoh!” +</p> + +<p> +“I hear; also the case is well if briefly set. What else would the Prince +Seti say?” +</p> + +<p> +“This, O Pharaoh. That I pray you to return with all your host from the +following of these Hebrews, not to-morrow or the next day, but at +once—this night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, O Prince?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because of a certain dream that a lady of my household who is Hebrew has +dreamed, which dream foretells destruction to you and the army of Egypt, unless +you hearken to these words of mine.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think that we know of this snake whom you have taken to dwell in your +bosom, whence it may spit poison upon Egypt. It is named Merapi, Moon of +Israel, is it not?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is the name of the lady who dreamed the dream,” replied Seti +in a cold voice, though I felt him tremble with anger at my side, “the +dream that if Pharaoh wills my companions here shall set out word for word to +his magicians.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pharaoh does not will it,” shouted Amenmeses smiting the board +with his fist, “because Pharaoh knows that it is but another trick to +save these wizards and thieves from the doom that they have earned.” +</p> + +<p> +“Am I then a worker of tricks, O Pharaoh? If I had been such, why have I +journeyed hither to give warning, when by sitting yonder at Memphis to-morrow, +I might once more have become heir to the double crown? For if you will not +hearken to me, I tell you that very soon you shall be dead, and with you +these”—and he pointed to all those who sat at +table—“and with them the great army that lies without. Ere you +speak, tell me, what is that black cloud which stands before the camp of the +Hebrews? Is there no answer? Then I will give you the answer. It is the pall +that shall wrap the bones of every one of you.” +</p> + +<p> +Now the company shivered with fear, yes, even the priests and the magicians +shivered. But Pharaoh went mad with rage. Springing from his seat, he snatched +at the double crown upon his head, and hurled it to the ground, and I noted +that the golden uræus band about it, rolled away, and rested upon Seti’s +sandalled foot. He tore his robes and shouted: +</p> + +<p> +“At least our fate shall be your fate, Renegade, who have sold Egypt to +the Hebrew witch in payment of her kisses. Seize this man and his companions, +and when we go down to battle against these Israelites to-morrow after the +darkness lifts, let them be set with the captains of the van. So shall the +truth be known at last.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus Pharaoh commanded, and Seti, answering nothing, folded his arms upon his +breast and waited. +</p> + +<p> +Men rose from their seats as though to obey Pharaoh and sank back to them +again. Guards started forward and yet remained standing where they were. Then +Bakenkhonsu burst into one of his great laughs. +</p> + +<p> +“O-ho-ho,” he laughed, “Pharaohs have I seen come and go, one +and two and three, and four and five, but never yet have I seen a Pharaoh whom +none of his councillors or guards could obey however much they willed it. When +you are Pharaoh, Prince Seti, may your luck be better. Your arm, Ana, my +friend, and lead on, Royal Heir of Egypt. The truth is shown to blind eyes that +will not see. The word is spoken to deaf ears that will not hearken, and the +duty done. Night falls. Sleep ye well, ye bidden of Osiris, sleep ye +well!” +</p> + +<p> +Then we turned and walked from that pavilion. At its entrance I looked back, +and in the low light that precedes the darkness, it seemed to me as though all +seated there were already dead. Blue were their faces and hollow shone their +eyes, and from their lips there came no word. Only they stared at us as we +went, and stared and stared again. +</p> + +<p> +Without the door of the pavilion, by command of the Prince, I called aloud the +substance of the lady Merapi’s dream, and warned all within earshot to +cease from pursuing the people of Israel, if they would continue to live to +look upon the sun. Yet even now, although to speak thus was treason against +Pharaoh, none lifted a hand against the Prince, or against me his servant. +Often since then I have wondered why this was so, and found no answer to my +questionings. Mayhap it was because of the majesty of my master, whom all knew +to be the true Pharaoh, and loved at heart. Mayhap it was because they were +sure that he would not have travelled so far and placed himself in the power of +Amenmeses save to work the armies of Egypt good, and not ill, and to bring them +a message that had been spoken by the gods themselves. +</p> + +<p> +Or mayhap it was because he was still hedged about by that protection which the +Hebrews had vowed to him through their prophets with the voice of Jabez. At +least so it happened. Pharaoh might command, but his servants would not obey. +Moreover, the story spread, and that night many deserted from the host of +Pharaoh and encamped about us, or fled back towards the cities whence they +came. Also with them were not a few councillors and priests who had talked +secretly with Bakenkhonsu. So it chanced that even if Pharaoh desired to make +an end of us, as perhaps he purposed to do in the midnight watches, he thought +it wisest to let the matter lie until he had finished with the people of Israel. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +It was a very strange night, silent, with a heavy, stirless air. There were no +stars, but the curtain of black cloud which seemed to hang beyond the camp of +the Egyptians was alive with lightnings which appeared to shape themselves to +letters that I could not read. +</p> + +<p> +“Behold the Book of Fate written in fire by the hand of God!” said +Bakenkhonsu, as he watched. +</p> + +<p> +About midnight a mighty east wind began to blow, so strongly that we must lie +upon our faces under the lea of the chariots. Then the wind died away and we +heard tumult and shoutings, both from the camp of Egypt, and from the camp of +Israel beyond the cloud. Next there came a shock as of earthquake, which threw +those of us who were standing to the ground, and by a blood-red moon that now +appeared we perceived that all the army of Pharaoh was beginning to move +towards the sea. +</p> + +<p> +“Whither go they?” I asked of the Prince who clung to my arm. +</p> + +<p> +“To doom, I think,” he answered, “but to what doom I do not +know.” +</p> + +<p> +After this we said no more, because we were too much afraid. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Dawn came at last, showing the most awful sight that was ever beheld by the eye +of man. +</p> + +<p> +The wall of cloud had disappeared, and in the clear light of the morning, we +perceived that the deep waters of the Sea of Reeds had divided themselves, +leaving a raised roadway that seemed to have been cleared by the wind, or +perchance to have been thrown up by the earthquake. Who can say? Not I who +never set foot upon that path of death. Along this wide road streamed the tens +of thousands of the Israelites, passing between the water on the right hand, +and the water on the left, and after them followed all the army of Pharaoh, +save those who had deserted, and stood or lay around us, watching. We could +even see the golden chariots that marked the presence of Pharaoh himself, and +of his bodyguard, deep in the heart of the broken host that struggled forward +without discipline or order. +</p> + +<p> +“What now? Oh! what now?” murmured Seti, and as he spoke there was +a second shock of earthquake. Then to the west on the sea there arose a mighty +wave, whereof the crest seemed to be high as a pyramid. It rolled forward with +a curved and foaming head, and in the hollow of it for a moment, no more, we +saw the army of Egypt. Yet in that moment I seemed to see mighty shapes fleeing +landwards along the crest of the wave, which shapes I took to be the gods of +Egypt, pursued by a form of light and glory that drove them as with a scourge. +They came, they went, accompanied by a sound of wailing, and the wave fell. +</p> + +<p> +But beyond it, the hordes of Israel still marched—upon the further shore. +</p> + +<p> +Dense gloom followed, and through the gloom I saw, or thought I saw, Merapi, +Moon of Israel, standing before us with a troubled face and heard or thought I +heard her cry: +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Oh! help me, my lord Seti! Help me, my lord Seti!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +Then she too was gone. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“Harness the chariots!” cried Seti, in a hollow voice. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap18"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.<br /> +THE CROWNING OF MERAPI</h2> + +<p> +Fast as sped our horses, rumour, or rather the truth, carried by those who had +gone before us, flew faster. Oh! that journey was as a dream begotten by the +evil gods. On we galloped through the day and through the night and lo! at +every town and village women rushed upon us crying: +</p> + +<p> +“Is it true, O travellers, is it true that Pharaoh and his host are +perished in the sea?” +</p> + +<p> +Then old Bakenkhonsu would call in answer: +</p> + +<p> +“It is true that he who <i>was</i> Pharaoh and his host are perished in +the sea. But lo! here is he who <i>is</i> Pharaoh,” and he pointed to the +Prince, who took no heed and said nothing, save: +</p> + +<p> +“On! On!” +</p> + +<p> +Then forward we would plunge again till once more the sound of wailing died +into silence. +</p> + +<p> +It was sunset, and at length we drew near to the gates of Memphis. The Prince +turned to me and spoke. +</p> + +<p> +“Heretofore I have not dared to ask,” he said, “but tell me, +Ana. In the gloom after the great cliff of water fell and the shapes of terror +swept by, did you seem to see a woman stand before us and did you seem to hear +her speak?” +</p> + +<p> +“I did, O Prince.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who was that woman and what did she say?” +</p> + +<p> +“She was one who bore a child to you, O Prince, which child is not, and +she said, ‘Oh! help me, my lord Seti. Help me, my lord Seti!’” +</p> + +<p> +His face grew ashen even beneath its veil of dust, and he groaned. +</p> + +<p> +“Two who loved her have seen and two who loved her have heard,” he +said. “There is no room for doubt. Ana, she is dead!” +</p> + +<p> +“I pray the gods——” +</p> + +<p> +“Pray not, for the gods of Egypt are also dead, slain by the god of +Israel. Ana, who has murdered her?” +</p> + +<p> +With my finger I who am a draughtsman drew in the thick dust that lay on the +board of the chariot the brows of a man and beneath them two deep eyes. The +gilt on the board where the sun caught it looked like light in the eyes. +</p> + +<p> +The Prince nodded and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Now we shall learn whether great magicians such as Ki can die like other +men. Yes, if need be, to learn that I will put on Pharaoh’s crown.” +</p> + +<p> +We halted at the gates of Memphis. They were shut and barred, but from within +the vast city rose a sound of tumult. +</p> + +<p> +“Open!” cried the Prince to the guard. +</p> + +<p> +“Who bids me open?” answered the captain of the gate peering at us, +for the low sun lay behind. +</p> + +<p> +“Pharaoh bids you open.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pharaoh!” said the man. “We have sure tidings that Pharaoh +and his armies are slain by wizardry in the sea.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fool!” thundered the Prince, “Pharaoh never dies. Pharaoh +Amenmeses is with Osiris but the good god Seti Meneptah who <i>is</i> Pharaoh +bids you open.” +</p> + +<p> +Then the bronze gates rolled back, and those who guarded them prostrated +themselves in the dust. +</p> + +<p> +“Man,” I called to the captain, “what means yonder +shouting?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir,” he answered, “I do not know, but I am told that the +witch who has brought woe on Egypt and by magic caused the death of Pharaoh +Amenmeses and his armies, dies by fire in the place before the temple.” +</p> + +<p> +“By whose command?” I cried again as the charioteer flogged the +horses, but no answer reached our ears. +</p> + +<p> +We rushed on up the wide street to the great place that was packed with tens of +thousands of the people. We drove the horses at them. +</p> + +<p> +“Way for Pharaoh! Way for the Mighty One, the good god, Seti Meneptah, +King of the Upper and the Lower Land!” shouted the escort. +</p> + +<p> +The people turned and saw the tall shape of the Prince still clad in the robes +of state which he had worn when he stood before Amenmeses in the pavilion by +the sea. +</p> + +<p> +“Pharaoh! Pharaoh! Hail to Pharaoh!” they cried, prostrating +themselves, and the cry passed on through Memphis like a wind. +</p> + +<p> +Now we were come to the centre of the place, and there in front of the great +gates of the temple burned a vast pyre of wood. Before the pyre moved figures, +in one of whom I knew Ki dressed in his magician’s robe. Outside of these +there was a double circle of soldiers who kept the people back, which these +needed, for they raved like madmen and shook their fists. A group of priests +near the fire separated, and I saw that among them stood a man and a woman, the +latter with dishevelled hair and torn robes as though she had been roughly +handled. At this moment her strength seemed to fail her and she sank to the +ground, lifting her face as she did so. It was the face of Merapi, Moon of +Israel. +</p> + +<p> +So she was not dead. The man at her side stooped as though to lift her up, but +a stone thrown out of the shadow struck him in the back and caused him to +straighten himself, which he did with a curse at the thrower. I knew the voice +at once, although the speaker was disguised. +</p> + +<p> +It was that of Laban the Israelite, he who had been betrothed to Merapi, and +had striven to murder us in the land of Goshen. What did he here? I wondered +dimly. +</p> + +<p> +Ki was speaking. “Hark how the Hebrew cat spits,” he said. +“Well, the cause has been tried and the verdict given, and I think that +the familiar should feed the flames before the witch. Watch him now, and +perhaps he will change into something else.” +</p> + +<p> +All this he said, smiling in his usual pleasant fashion, even when he made a +sign to certain black temple slaves who stood near. They leapt forward, and I +saw the firelight shone upon their copper armlets as they gripped Laban. He +fought furiously, shouting: +</p> + +<p> +“Where are your armies, Egyptians, and where is your dog of a Pharaoh? Go +dig them from the Sea of Reeds. Farewell, Moon of Israel. Look how your royal +lover crowns you at the last, O faithless——” +</p> + +<p> +He said no more, for at this moment the slaves hurled him headlong into the +heart of the great fire, which blackened for a little and burned bright again. +</p> + +<p> +Then it was that Merapi struggled to her feet and cried in a ringing voice +those very words which the Prince and I had seemed to hear her speak far away +by the Sea of Reeds—“<i>Oh! help me, my lord Seti! Help me, my lord +Seti!</i>” Yes, the same words which had echoed in our ears days before +they passed her lips, or so we believed. +</p> + +<p> +Now all this while our chariots had been forcing their way foot by foot through +the wall of the watching crowd, perhaps while a man might count a hundred, no +more. As the echoes of her cry died away at length we were through and leaping +to the ground. +</p> + +<p> +“The witch calls on one who sups to-night at the board of Osiris with +Pharaoh and his host,” sneered Ki. “Well, let her go to seek him +there if the guardian gods will suffer it,” and again he made a sign to +the black slaves. +</p> + +<p> +But Merapi had seen or felt Seti advancing from the shadows and seeing flung +herself upon his breast. He kissed her on the brow before them all, then bade +me hold her up and turned to face the people. +</p> + +<p> +“Bow down. Bow down. Bow down!” cried the deep voice of +Bakenkhonsu. “Life! Blood! Strength! Pharaoh! Pharaoh! Pharaoh!” +and what he said the escort echoed. +</p> + +<p> +Then of a sudden the multitude understood. To their knees they fell and from +every side rose the ancient salutation. Seti held up his hand and blessed them. +Watching, I saw Ki slip towards the darkness, and whispered a word to the +guards, who sprang upon him and brought him back. +</p> + +<p> +Then the Prince spoke: +</p> + +<p> +“Ye name me Pharaoh, people of Memphis, and Pharaoh I fear I am by +descent of blood to-day, though whether I will consent to bear the burdens of +government, should Egypt wish it of me, as yet I know not. Still he who wore +the double crown is, I believe, dead in the midst of the sea; at the least I +saw the waters overwhelm him and his army. Therefore, if only for an hour, I +will be Pharaoh, that as Pharaoh I may judge of certain matters. Lady Merapi, +tell me, I pray you, how came you to this pass?” +</p> + +<p> +“My lord,” she answered, in a low voice, “after you had gone +to warn the army of Pharaoh because of that dream I dreamed, Ki, who departed +on the same day, returned again. Through one of the women of the household, +over whom he had power, or so I think, he obtained access to me when I was +alone in my chamber. There he made me this offer: +</p> + +<p> +“‘Give me,’ he said, ‘the secret of your magic that I +may be avenged upon the wizards of the Hebrews who have brought about my +downfall, and upon the Hebrews themselves, and also upon all my other enemies, +and thus once more become the greatest man in Egypt. In turn I will fulfil all +your desires, and make you, and no other, Queen of Egypt, and be your faithful +servant, and that of your lord Seti who shall be Pharaoh, until the end of your +lives. Refuse, and I will stir up the people against you, and before ever the +Prince returns, if he returns at all, they who believe you to be an evil +sorceress shall mete out to you the fate of a sorceress.’ +</p> + +<p> +“My lord, I answered to Ki what I have often told him before, that I had +no magic to reveal to him, I who knew nothing of the black arts of sorcery, +seeing that it was not I who destroyed the statue of Amon in the temple at +Tanis, but that same Power which since then has brought all the plagues on +Egypt. I said, too, that I cared nothing for the gifts he offered to me, as I +had no wish to be Queen of Egypt. My lord, he laughed in my face, saying I +should find that he was one ill to mock, as others had found before me. Then he +pointed at me with his wand and muttered some spell over me, which seemed to +numb my limbs and voice, holding me helpless till he had been gone a long +while, and could not be found by your servants, whom I commanded in your name +to seize, and keep him till your return. +</p> + +<p> +“From that hour the people began to threaten me. They crowded about the +palace gates in thousands, crying day and night that they were going to kill +me, the witch. I prayed for help, but from me, a sinner, heaven has grown so +far away that my prayers seem to fall back unheard upon my head. Even the +servants in the palace turned against me, and would not look upon my face. I +grew mad with fear and loneliness, since all fled before me. At last one night +towards the dawn I went on to the terrace, and since no god would hear me, I +turned towards the north whither I knew that you had gone, and cried to you to +help me in those same words which I cried again just now before you +appeared.” (Here the Prince looked at me and I Ana looked at him.) +“Then it was that from among the bushes of the garden appeared a man, +hidden in a long, sheepskin cloak, so that I could not see his face, who said +to me: +</p> + +<p> +“‘Moon of Israel, I have been sent by his Highness, the Prince +Seti, to tell you that you are in danger of your life, as he is in danger of +his, wherefore he cannot come to you. His command is that you come to him, that +together you may flee away out of Egypt to a land where you will both be safe +until all these troubles are finished.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘How know I that you of the veiled face are a true +messenger?’ I asked. ‘Give me a sign.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Then he held out to me that scarabæus of lapis-lazuli which your +Highness gave to me far away in the land of Goshen, the same that you asked +back from me as a love token when we plighted troth, and you gave me your royal +ring, which scarabæus I had seen in your robe when you drove away with +Ana.” +</p> + +<p> +“I lost it on our journey to the Sea of Reeds, but said nothing of it to +you, Ana, because I thought the omen evil, having dreamed in the night that Ki +appeared and stole it from me,” whispered the Prince to me. +</p> + +<p> +“‘It is not enough,’ I answered. ‘This jewel may have +been thieved away, or snatched from the dead body of the Prince, or taken from +him by magic.’ +</p> + +<p> +“The cloaked man thought a while and said, ‘This night, not an hour +ago, Pharaoh and his chariots were overwhelmed in the Sea of Reeds. Let that +serve as a sign.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘How can this be?’ I answered, ‘since the Sea of Reeds +is far away, and such tidings cannot travel thence in an hour. Get you gone, +false tempter.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Yet it is so,’ he answered. +</p> + +<p> +“‘When you prove it to me, I will believe, and come.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Good,’ he said, and was gone. +</p> + +<p> +“Next day a rumour began to run that this awful thing had happened. It +grew stronger and stronger, until all swore that it had happened. Now the fury +of the people rose against me, and they ravened round the palace like lions of +the desert, roaring for my blood. Yet it was as though they could not enter +here, since whenever they rushed at the gates or walls, they fell back again, +for some spirit seemed to protect the place. The days went by; the night came +again and at the dawn, this dawn that is past, once more I stood upon the +terrace, and once more the cloaked man appeared from among the trees. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Now you have heard, Moon of Israel,’ he said, ‘and +now you must believe and come, although you think yourself safe because at the +beginning of the plagues this, the home of Seti, was enchanted against evil, so +that none within it can be harmed.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘I have heard, and I think that I believe, though how the tidings +reached Memphis in an hour I do not understand. Yet, stranger, I say to you +that it is not enough.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Then the man drew a papyrus roll from his bosom and threw it at my feet. +I opened it and read. The writing was the writing of Ana as I knew well, and +the signature was the signature of you, my lord, and it was sealed with your +seal, and with the seal of Bakenkhonsu as a witness. Here it is,” and +from the breast of her garment, she drew out a roll and gave it to me upon whom +she rested all this while. +</p> + +<p> +I opened it, and by the light of torches the Prince, Bakenkhonsu, and I read. +It was as she had told us in what seemed to be my writing, and signed and +sealed as she had said. The words ran: +</p> + +<p> +“To Merapi, Moon of Israel, in my house at Memphis. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, Lady, Flower of Love, to me your lord, to whom the bearer of this +will guide you safely. Come at once, for I am in great danger, as you are, and +together only can we be safe.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ana, what means this?” asked the Prince in a terrible voice. +“If you have betrayed me and her——” +</p> + +<p> +“By the gods,” I began angrily, “am I a man that I should +live to hear even your Highness speak thus to me, or am I but a dog of the +desert?” +</p> + +<p> +I ceased, for at that moment Bakenkhonsu began to laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Look at the letter!” he laughed. “Look at the letter.” +</p> + +<p> +We looked, and as we looked, behold the writing on it turned first to the +colour of blood and then faded away, till presently there was nothing in my +hand but a blank sheet of papyrus. +</p> + +<p> +“Oho-ho!” laughed Bakenkhonsu. “Truly, friend Ki, you are the +first of magicians, save those prophets of the Israelites who have brought +you—Whither have they brought you, friend Ki?” +</p> + +<p> +Then for the first time the painted smile left the face of Ki, and it became +like a block of stone in which were set two angry jewels that were his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Continue, Lady,” said the Prince. +</p> + +<p> +“I obeyed the letter. I fled away with the man who said he had a chariot +waiting. We passed out by the little gate. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Where is the chariot?’ I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“‘We go by boat,’ he answered, and led the way towards the +river. As we threaded the big palm grove men appeared from between the trees. +</p> + +<p> +“‘You have betrayed me,’ I cried. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Nay,’ he answered, ‘I am myself betrayed.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Then for the first time I knew his voice for that of Laban. +</p> + +<p> +“The men seized us; at the head of them was Ki. +</p> + +<p> +“‘This is the witch,’ he said, ‘who, her wickedness +finished, flies with her Hebrew lover, who is also the familiar of her +sorceries.’ +</p> + +<p> +“They tore the cloak and the false beard from him and there before me +stood Laban. I cursed him to his face. But all he answered was: +</p> + +<p> +“‘Merapi, what I have done I did for love of you. It was my purpose +to take you away to our people, for here I knew that they would kill you. This +magician promised you to me if I could tempt you from the safety of the palace, +in return for certain tidings that I have given him.’ +</p> + +<p> +“These were the only words that passed between us till the end. They +dragged us to the secret prison of the great temple where we were separated. +Here all day long Ki and the priests tormented me with questions, to which I +gave no answer. Towards the evening they brought me out and led me here with +Laban at my side. When the people saw me a great cry went up of +‘Sorceress! Hebrew witch!’ They broke through the guard; they +seized me, threw me to the ground and beat me. Laban strove to protect me but +was torn away. At length the people were driven off, and oh! my lord, you know +the rest. I have spoken truth, I can no more.” +</p> + +<p> +So saying her knees loosened beneath her and she swooned. We bore her to the +chariot. +</p> + +<p> +“You have heard, Ki,” said the Prince. “Now, what +answer?” +</p> + +<p> +“None, O Pharaoh,” he replied coldly, “for Pharaoh you are, +as I promised that you should be. My spirit has deserted me, those Hebrews have +stolen it away. That writing should have faded from the scroll as soon as it +was read by yonder lady, and then I would have told you another story; a story +of secret love, of betrayal and attempted flight with her lover. But some evil +god kept it there until you also had read, you who knew that you had not +written what appeared before your eyes. Pharaoh, I am conquered. Do your will +with me, and farewell. Beloved you shall always be as you have always been, but +happy never in this world.” +</p> + +<p> +“O People,” cried Seti, “I will not be judge in my own cause. +You have heard, do you judge. For this wizard, what reward?” +</p> + +<p> +Then there went up a great cry of “Death! Death by fire. The death he had +made ready for the innocent!” +</p> + +<p> +That was the end, but they told me afterwards that, when the great pyre had +burned out, in it was found the head of Ki looking like a red-hot stone. When +the sunlight fell on it, however, it crumbled and faded away, as the writing +had faded from the roll. If this be true I do not know, who was not present at +the time. +</p> + +<p> +We bore Merapi to the palace. She lived but three days, she whose body and +spirit were broken. The last time I saw her was when she sent for me not an +hour before death came. She was lying in Seti’s arms babbling to him of +their child and looking very sweet and happy. She thanked me for my friendship, +smiling the while in a way which showed me that she knew it was more than +friendship, and bade me tend my master well until we all met again elsewhere. +Then she gave me her hand to kiss and I went away weeping. +</p> + +<p> +After she was dead a strange fancy took Seti. In the great hall of the palace +he caused a golden throne to be put up, and on this throne he set her in regal +garments, with pectoral and necklaces of gems, crowned like a queen of Egypt, +and thus he showed her to the lords of Memphis. Then he caused her to be +embalmed and buried in a secret sepulchre, the place of which I have sworn +never to reveal, but without any rites because she was not of the faith of +Egypt. +</p> + +<p> +There then she sleeps in her eternal house until the Day of Resurrection, and +with her sleeps her little son. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +It was within a moon of this funeral that the great ones of Egypt came to +Memphis to name the Prince as Pharaoh, and with them came her Highness, the +Queen Userti. I was present at the ceremony, which to me was very strange. +There was the Vizier Nehesi; there was the high-priest Roi and with him many +other priests; and there was even the old chamberlain Pambasa, pompous yet +grovelling as before, although he had deserted the household of the Prince +after his disinheritance for that of the Pharaoh Amenmeses. His appearance with +his wand of office and long white beard, of which he was so proud because it +was his own, drew from Seti the only laugh I had heard him utter for many weeks. +</p> + +<p> +“So you are back again, Chamberlain Pambasa,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“O most Holy, O most Royal,” answered the old knave, “has +Pambasa, the grain of dust beneath your feet, ever deserted the House of +Pharaoh, or that of him who will be Pharaoh?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” replied Seti, “it is only when you think that he will +not be Pharaoh that you desert. Well, get you to your duties, rogue, who +perhaps at bottom are as honest as the rest.” +</p> + +<p> +Then followed the great and ancient ceremony of the Offering of the Crown, in +which spoke priests disguised as gods and other priests disguised as mighty +Pharaohs of the past; also the nobles of the Nomes and the chief men of cities. +When all had finished Seti answered: +</p> + +<p> +“I take this, my heritage,” and he touched the double crown, +“not because I desire it but because it is my duty, as I swore that I +would to one who has departed. Blow upon blow have smitten Egypt which, I +think, had my voice been listened to, would never have fallen. Egypt lies +bleeding and well-nigh dead. Let it be your work and mine to try to nurse her +back to life. For no long while am I with you, who also have been smitten, how +it matters not, yet while I am here, I who seem to reign will be your servant +and that of Egypt. It is my decree that no feasts or ceremonials shall mark +this my accession, and that the wealth which would have been scattered upon +them shall be distributed among the widows and children of those who perished +in the Sea of Reeds. Depart!” +</p> + +<p> +They went, humble yet happy, since here was a Pharaoh who knew the needs of +Egypt, one too who loved her and who alone had shown himself wise of heart +while others were filled with madness. Then her Highness entered, splendidly +apparelled, crowned and followed by her household, and made obeisance. +</p> + +<p> +“Greeting to Pharaoh,” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +“Greeting to the Royal Princess of Egypt,” he answered. +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, Pharaoh, the Queen of Egypt.” +</p> + +<p> +By Seti’s side there was another throne, that in which he had set dead +Merapi with a crown upon her head. He turned and looked at it a while. Then, he +said: +</p> + +<p> +“I see that this seat is empty. Let the Queen of Egypt take her place +there if so she wills.” +</p> + +<p> +She stared at him as if she thought that he was mad, though doubtless she had +heard something of that story, then swept up the steps and sat herself down in +the royal chair. +</p> + +<p> +“Your Majesty has been long absent,” said Seti. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” she answered, “but as my Majesty promised she would +do, she has returned to her lawful place at the side of Pharaoh—never to +leave it more.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pharaoh thanks her Majesty,” said Seti, bowing low. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Some six years had gone by, when one night I was seated with the Pharaoh Seti +Meneptah in his palace at Memphis, for there he always chose to dwell when +matters of State allowed. +</p> + +<p> +It was on the anniversary of the Death of the Firstborn, and of this matter it +pleased him to talk to me. Up and down the chamber he walked and, watching him +by the lamplight, I noted that of a sudden he seemed to have grown much older, +and that his face had become sweeter even than it was before. He was more thin +also, and his eyes had in them a look of one who stares at distances. +</p> + +<p> +“You remember that night, Friend, do you not,” he said; +“perhaps the most terrible night the world has ever seen, at least in the +little piece of it called Egypt.” He ceased, lifted a curtain, and +pointed to a spot on the pillared portico without. “There she sat,” +he went on; “there you stood; there lay the boy and there crouched his +nurse—by the way, I grieve to hear that she is ill. You are caring for +her, are you not, Ana? Say to her that Pharaoh will come to visit +her—when he may, when he may.” +</p> + +<p> +“I remember it all, Pharaoh.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, of course you would remember, because you loved her, did you not, +and the boy too, and even me, the father. And so you will love us always when +we reach a land where sex with its walls and fires are forgotten, and love +alone survives—as we shall love you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” I answered, “since love is the key of life, and those +alone are accursed who have never learned to love.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why accursed, Ana, seeing that, if life continues, they still may +learn?” He paused a while, then went on: “I am glad that he died, +Ana, although had he lived, as the Queen will have no children, he might have +become Pharaoh after me. But what is it to be Pharaoh? For six years now I have +reigned, and I think that I am beloved; reigned over a broken land which I have +striven to bind together, reigned over a sick land which I have striven to +heal, reigned over a desolated land which I have striven to make forget. Oh! +the curse of those Hebrews worked well. And I think that it was my fault, Ana, +for had I been more of a man, instead of casting aside my burden, I should have +stood up against my father Meneptah and his policy and, if need were, have +raised the people. Then the Israelites would have gone, and no plagues would +have smitten Egypt. Well, what I did, I did because I must, perhaps, and what +has happened, has happened. And now my time comes to an end, and I go hence to +balance my account as best I may, praying that I may find judges who +understand, and are gentle.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why does Pharaoh speak thus?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know, Ana, yet that Hebrew wife of mine has been much in my +mind of late. She was wise in her way, as wise as loving, was she not, and if +we could see her once again, perhaps she would answer the question. But +although she seems so near to me, I never can see her, quite. Can you, +Ana?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, Pharaoh, though one night old Bakenkhonsu vowed that he perceived +her passing before us, and looking at me earnestly as she passed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! Bakenkhonsu. Well, he is wise too, and loved her in his fashion. +Also the flesh fades from him, though mayhap he will live to make offerings at +both our tombs. Well, Bakenkhonsu is at Tanis, or is it at Thebes, with her +Majesty, whom he ever loves to observe, as I do. So he can tell us nothing of +what he thought he saw. This chamber is hot, Ana, let us stand without.” +</p> + +<p> +So we passed the curtain, and stood upon the portico, looking at the garden +misty with moonlight, and talking of this and that—about the Israelites, +I think, who, as we heard, were wandering in the deserts of Sinai. Then of a +sudden we grew silent, both of us. +</p> + +<p> +A cloud floated over the face of the moon, leaving the world in darkness. It +passed, and I became aware that we were no longer alone. There in front of us +was a mat, and on the mat lay a dead child, the royal child named Seti; there +by the mat stood a woman with agony in her eyes, looking at the dead child, the +Hebrew woman named Moon of Israel. +</p> + +<p> +Seti touched me, and pointed to her, and I pointed to the child. We stood +breathless. Then of a sudden, stooping down, Merapi lifted up the child and +held it towards its father. But, lo! now no longer was it dead; nay, it laughed +and laughed, and seeing him, seemed to throw its arms about his neck, and to +kiss him on the lips. Moreover, the agony in the woman’s eyes turned to +joy unspeakable, and she became more beautiful than a star. Then, laughing like +the child, Merapi turned to Seti, beckoned, and was gone. +</p> + +<p> +“We have seen the dead,” he said to me presently, “and, oh! +Ana, <i>the dead still live!</i>” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +That night, ere dawn, a cry rang through the palace, waking me from my sleep. +This was the cry: +</p> + +<p> +“The good god Pharaoh is no more! The hawk Seti has flown to +heaven!” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +At the burial of Pharaoh, I laid the halves of the broken cup upon his breast, +that he might drink therefrom in the Day of Resurrection. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Here ends the writing of the Scribe Ana, the Counsellor and Companion of the +King, by him beloved. +</p> + +<p class="finis"> +THE END +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOON OF ISRAEL ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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