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Title:      Belshazzar
Author:     H. Rider Haggard
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A Project Gutenberg of Australia eBook

Title:      Belshazzar
Author:     H. Rider Haggard





                  "In that night was Belshazzar the
                   King of the Chaldeans slain."




                              DEDICATION

  Dear Cowan Guthrie,

  You, a student of that age, persuaded me to write this tale of
  Belshazzar and Babylon. Therefore I offer it to you.

                                            Sincerely yours,
                                                 H. Rider Haggard.

  A. Cowan Guthrie, Esq., M.B.





                              BELSHAZZAR



                              CHAPTER I

                        RAMOSE AND HIS MOTHER

Now when by the favour of the most high God, Him whom I worship, to
whom every man is gathered at last, now, I say, when I am old, many
have urged upon me that I, Ramose, should set down certain of those
things that I have seen in the days of my life, and particularly the
tale of the fall of Babylon, the mighty city, before Cyrus the
Persian, which chanced when he whom the Greeks called Nabonidus being
newly dead, Belshazzar his son was king.

Therefore, having ever been a lover of letters, this I do in the
Grecian tongue here in my house at Memphis, the great city of the
Nile, whereof to-day I am the governor under Darius the Persian, for
it has pleased God after many adversities to bring me to this peace
and dignity at last. Whether any will read this book when it is
written, or whether it will perish with me, I do not know, nor indeed
does it trouble me much, since none can tell the end of anything good
or ill, and all must happen as it is decreed. Man makes a beginning,
but the rest is in the hands of fate; indeed his life itself is but a
beginning of which the end is hid.

Now to-day when he is almost forgotten, I can say without fear that I
am a king's son, for my father was none other than the Pharaoh Uah-ab-
Ra, whom the Greeks called Apries and the Hebrews Hophra. Nor is my
blood all royal, seeing that I was not the son of the wife of Pharaoh,
but of one of his women, a Grecian lady named Chloe, the daughter of
Chion, an Athenian by birth, of whom the less said the better for my
mother told me that being a spendthrift and in want of money, he
turned her beauty to account by giving her to Apries in exchange for a
great present. I know no more of the matter because she would seldom
speak of it, saying that it was shameful, adding only that her father
was well-born; that her mother had died when she was an infant, and
that before she came to the court at Sais, they saw many changes of
fortune, living sometimes in wealth, but for the most part humbly and
in great poverty which in after years bred in her a love of rank and
riches.

Here in the palace of Sais during the little time that my mother was
in favour with Pharaoh, I was born, and here I lived till I was a
young man grown, being brought up with the sons of the great nobles
and taught all things that one of my station should know, especially
the art of war and how to ride and handle weapons. Further I got
learning because always from the first I loved it, being taught many
things by Greek masters who were about the court, as well as by
Egyptians; also by a certain Babylonian named Belus, a doctor who was
versed in strange lore concerning the stars. Of this Belus, my master
and friend but for whom I should long ago be dead, I shall have much
to tell.

Thus it came about that in the end I could read and speak Greek as
well as I could Egyptian, which was not to be wondered at, seeing that
I learned it at my mother's breast. Also I mastered the Babylonian or
Chaldean tongue, though not so well, and with it the curious writing
of that people.

Of my father, the Pharaoh, I saw little for he had so many children
such as I, born of different mothers, that he took small heed of us,
he upon whom lay this hard fortune, that from those who were his
queens according to the law of Egypt, he had no offspring save one
daughter only, while from those who were not his queens he had many.
This was a heavy grief to the Pharaoh my father, who saw in it the
hands of the gods to whom he made great sacrifices, especially to
Ptah-Khepera the Creator and Father of Life, building up his temple at
Memphis, and praying of him a son of the pure blood. But no son came
and an oracle told him that he who loved the Greeks so much must to
the Greeks for offspring, which was true, for all his sons were born
of Grecian women, as perhaps the oracle knew already.



On a certain day I and other lads of my age were running races after
the Grecian fashion. In the long race I outran all the rest, and fell
panting and exhausted into the arms of one who, followed by three
companions, stood wrapped in a dark cloak, (for the time was winter,)
just by a wand that we had set in the ground to serve us as a winning-
post.

"Well run and well won!" said a voice which I knew for that of Apries.
"How are you named and who begot you?"

Now I rose from the ground upon which I had sunk, and pretending that
he was a stranger to me, gasped out,

"Ramose is my name, and as for that of my begetter, go ask his of
Pharaoh."

"I thought it," muttered Apries, considering me. Then he turned to the
first of his councillors and said,

"You know of what we were talking just now; this lad is straight and
strong and has a noble air; moreover I have a good report of him from
his instructors who say that he loves learning. Why should he not fill
a throne as well as another? The double crown would look well upon his
brow."

"Because his skin is too white, Pharaoh," answered that councillor.
"If the Egyptians learned that you purposed to set a Greek to rule
them after you, they would cut his throat and perhaps tumble you into
the Nile."

I remember these words very well, because although spoken at hazard,
they must have been inspired, for they were in fact a prophecy, seeing
that in the after years Apries was tumbled into the Nile whence Amasis
who had usurped his throne, rescued his body and gave it royal burial.

After this Pharaoh spoke to me for a while, but not until he had
bidden one of his councillors to lift the cloak from his shoulders and
throw it round me, lest I, who was hot with the racing, should take
cold. So there I stood, wrapped in the royal cloak of Tyrian purple,
while those King's Companions muttered together, thinking that this
was an omen and that one day I should sit upon the throne. Yet it was
none, for it was not fated that any of the blood of Uah-ab-Ra, or
Apries, should reign after him. That cloak I have to this day, though
I do not wear it because of its royal clasp, for Pharaoh does not take
back his gifts, or even that which he has lent for an hour. Yes, I
have the cloak but not the crown, though this in truth I never sought.

Well, he searched me with his shrewd eyes that at times could look so
fierce, and asked me questions as to my studies; also what I wished to
be, a priest or a scribe or a soldier.

"What Pharaoh pleases," I answered, "though if I had my will, I would
be all three, a priest because he draws nigh to the gods; a scribe
because he gathers learning which is strength, and a soldier because
he defends his country and wins glory. Yet most of all I would be a
soldier."

"Well spoken," said Pharaoh, like one who was astonished at my answer.
"You shall have your way if I can give it to you."

Then he held out his hand to me to kiss and left me, muttering,

"Would that his mother had been Egyptian and not Greek."

Here I must tell that before this time my mother, Chloe, who long ago
had been succeeded by others in Pharaoh's favour, no longer dwelt at
the court in Sais. For Apries, wishing to do well by her, had given
her in marriage to a wealthy Egyptian named Tapert, who was one of his
officers at Memphis where he filled the place of a judge and overseer
of revenues. This Tapert, a kindly-faced, grizzled little man, had
fallen in love with my mother's beauty while he was at court making
report to Pharaoh on matters at Memphis, and especially as to the
rebuilding of the temple of Ptah in that city, with which he had to
do. Noting this, as he noted all, when the time came for Tapert to
return to Memphis, Apries asked him if he desired any gift of Pharaoh
whom he had served well. Tapert made no answer but let his eyes rest
upon my mother who, with other women of the royal household, sat at a
distance broidering linen with Grecian patterns, as she loved to do.

Apries thought a while, then said,

"Take her, if she will go. For you are a good man, if ugly, and as
your wife she may be happier than here--as nothing. Ask her. You have
my leave."

So he asked as it was made easy for him to do, and in the end,
although she loved the pomp and pleasures of the court, my mother
listened to him, knowing him for a very rich and honest man of good
blood and station, one, too, whom she could rule. So it came about
that while she was still a young and beautiful woman, for the Greeks
do not wither as early as do the Egyptians, by the permission of
Pharaoh my mother was married according to the full custom to the
Count Tapert, a man of many offices and titles who settled wealth upon
her should he die. Thus it happened that she went to live with him at
Memphis, while I stayed behind at Sais.

Our parting was sad, although after my childhood we had met but
little, because the laws of the court kept us apart.

"Hearken, my son," she said to me. "I make this marriage for a double
reason. When I was but a child I was delivered into the hands of
Pharaoh, who soon forgot me in favour of others who came after, but
because I had borne him a son, treated me honourably. Now while I am
still fair I have opportunity to leave this cage with golden bars, and
to become a free woman as the wife of a rich and honest man who loves
me, one by whom I shall be cherished, and I take it thankfully who, if
I stayed here, might one day find myself thrown into the street. Yet
not altogether for my own sake, because it means that we must be
parted; also, if I am loved, I do not love. Know, my son, that what I
do, I do for you more even than for myself. Here in the palace you are
highly placed; the Pharaoh looks upon you with favour; there are some
who think that in the end he will make a prince of you and, having no
lawful heirs of the royal blood, name you to follow after him. It may
be that this is in his mind. But if so I am sure that it could never
come about while your mother, the Grecian slave, remained at court to
remind the great ones of Egypt that you are base-born of a woman whose
people the Egyptians hate, whereas if I go away this may be forgotten,
though I fear that your skin will always tell its own story.

"Nor is this all. As Tapert has whispered to me, Pharaoh is rich;
Pharaoh is powerful and under him the people have prosperity, the arts
flourish and their gods are better served than they have been for many
an age, all of which comes about because Egypt is guarded by the
Greeks whom Pharaoh hires. Yet he says that they hate those guardians,
they who will not protect themselves, and it may well happen that from
this hatred trouble will come, bringing with it the fall of Pharaoh
and of those of his House. Therefore, should that chance, I would make
ready a refuge for you, my son.

"Tapert is very rich, as he has told me, one of the richest men in
Egypt, although few know it, and henceforth all he has is mine, and
what is mine is yours, for I do not think that I shall ever bear him
children. Therefore, in the hour of trouble remember always that there
is a place where you can lay your head, my son of the royal blood of
Egypt, whose throne you still may win by help of the wealth that I can
give you, and thereby make me, a Grecian slave bought for her beauty,
the mother of a king."

Thus she spoke and as she did so I read her heart, who although I was
so young had knowledge of the court ladies and their ways. She went
because she thought it no longer safe to stay near to Pharaoh who was
weary of the sight of her and of her importunities for gifts and
honours, and might at any time cast her out. Still I was sad, for I
who had no one else to love, loved my mother however vain and foolish
she might be.

So she departed and became the wife of Tapert, Pharaoh making many
gifts to her. But I stayed on at court and grew in strength and
stature, also in favour with Pharaoh. Hence it came about that I was
advanced beyond my station and made a Count of Egypt and a Companion
of the King with other offices and titles, seeing which all men bowed
down to me, thinking that in days to come, although I was base-born
and half a Greek, I still might sit where Pharaoh sat. And so it might
have chanced had it not been decreed otherwise and had not Hathor,
whom the Greeks call Aphrodite, lit a flame of love within my heart
that burned me up and wellnigh brought me to my death.

It happened thus. The King of Babylon had attacked certain peoples in
Syria of whom the chief king was named Abibal, an old man. Now in the
fighting the Babylonians were driven back, or rather had retired
purposing to return at their own season with a larger army--it might
be next year, or the year after, or the year after that, as it suited
them, to burn the cities of Abibal and his allies and to slay their
peoples or take them captive.

Now in this fighting the old king Abibal was wounded with an arrow in
the thigh, which wound festered so that in the end he died. Before he
died he determined to seek the aid of Apries, the Pharaoh of Egypt,
against the Babylonians. Therefore since he trusted no one else, he
left command that a young wife of his named Atyra, whom he had married
in his age, the daughter of another Syrian king, should go in person
to the court of Egypt and lay the cause of her country before Pharaoh,
so that he might send an army to defend it from the Babylonians. For
this old king cared nothing of what might happen to his young wife
after he was dead, or who should take her, but for his people, and the
other peoples who were his allies, he cared much.

So he bound the Queen Atyra by a solemn oath to do his bidding,
calling down the curse of his spirit and that of his gods upon her if
she failed therein, and she who was youthful and desired to see new
lands, and above all Egypt, swore all that he wished readily enough,
after which he died and was buried. When he had been sealed up in his
tomb Queen Atyra, a woman of great beauty who had been brought up in
statecraft, with a voice so sweet and a mind so subtle that she could
win any man to her will, started upon her journey in much pomp and
bearing many gifts, leaving her dead lord's successor seated upon his
throne.

At length having passed all dangers and escaped from a troop of the
Babylonians that was sent out to capture her, she came safely to Egypt
and encamping at a little distance from Sais, despatched messengers to
Pharaoh to announce her and ask his safeguard for herself and her
companions. As it chanced I, Ramose, now a young man in my twentieth
year, was the captain of the guard that day; therefore it fell to me
to receive these messengers and bring them before Pharaoh and his
officers.

He listened to their tale of which already he knew something from his
spies and those who served him in Syria. Then, having consulted with
his councillors and scribes, he beckoned to me and when I came and
bowed before him, said,

"Ramose, take an escort with you and ride out to the camp of this lady
Atyra, and say to her that it is too late for me to answer her prayer
to-day when the sun is already near to setting, but that I will
consider of it to-morrow. Talk with her yourself, if you can, for she
will suspect no guile in one so young, but at least spend the night at
her camp learning all that you are able concerning her and her
business, and to-morrow at the dawn return to make report to me."

So I went clad in the Grecian armour that Apries had commanded the
guard to wear, thereby giving much offence to the Egyptian generals
and soldiers, taking my newest cloak and mounted on a fine horse of
the Arab breed. Indeed, having heard through the messengers that this
lady was young and beautiful, I desired to look my best, for to tell
the truth, like many youths of my age I was somewhat vain and wished
to please the eyes of women. Moreover this was not altogether strange,
seeing that all thought me comely, who was tall and well-shaped,
having clear-cut Grecian features that I inherited from my mother,
brown hair that curled upon my head and large dark eyes, the gift of
my Egyptian blood. Further, I was ready of speech and could talk of
anything, though in truth as yet I knew little, all of which I do not
shame to write now when I am old. Lastly I must add this, though it is
not to my credit; that I was too fond of women and made love to them
when the chance came my way, which was often at the court of Sais. Or
perhaps they made love to me--I do not know; at least none of them had
really touched my heart, or I theirs.

Thus, full of youth and goodliness and the lust of life and all the
gifts that the gods give us when we are young, of which we think so
little until we have grown old and they are gone, followed by my
escort I galloped forth proud of my mission and hoping for adventure.
For little did I know that I rode into the arms of terror and of
sorrow.



                              CHAPTER II

                          THE CUP OF HATHOR

An hour later, guided by the messengers, one of whom had gone on ahead
to warn this lady Atyra of my coming, I caught sight of her camp set
upon the sand at the edge of the cultivated land, and noted that it
was large. The tents were many, dark in colour, most of them, for they
were woven of camel hair after the Arab fashion, but in their midst
was a great white pavilion dyed with stripes of blue and red, over
which fluttered a strange, three-pointed flag which seemed to be
blazoned with stars of gold.

This banner, I guessed, must mark the resting-place of the lady Atyra
who called herself a queen. What sort of a queen was she, I wondered.
Thick-made and black probably, though these Syrians whom in my
ignorance I believed to be swarthy folk, thought her fair, as indeed
all queens are fair according to those who serve them.

Whilst I was musing thus we came to the camp and must pass between two
lines of camels, many of which were lying down chewing their food. Now
like most horses, mine, a spirited beast, hated the sight and smell of
camels and growing restive, took the bit between its teeth in such
fashion that I could not hold it. Rushing forward it headed straight
for the great pavilion with the coloured stripes. Soldiers or servants
sprang forward to stay the beast, but without avail, for it overthrew
one of them, causing the rest to fly. On we went, till at the very door
of the tent my horse caught its feet in a rope and fell, hurling me
straight through the open entrance. Over and over I rolled and though
my bones were unharmed, for the sand was covered with thick carpets,
the breath was shaken out of me, so that for a while I sat gasping
with my helmet all awry like to that of a drunken soldier.

The sound of laughter reached me, very gentle laughter that reminded
me of water rippling over stones. Also there was other coarser
laughter such as might come from the throats of slaves or eunuchs or
of serving-girls. It made me very angry, so much so that being half-
stunned, with what breath I had left I said words I should not have
uttered, adding that I was Pharaoh's envoy.

"And if so, Sir, is this the fashion in which Pharaoh's envoys enter
the presence of those whom it pleases Pharaoh to honour?" asked a
silvery voice, speaking in the Grecian tongue though with a soft and
foreign accent.

"Yes," I answered, "if they set stinking camels to frighten their
horses and lay ropes to snare their feet."

Then the blood went to my head and I suppose that I fainted for a
while.

When my sense returned I found myself stretched upon a couch and heard
that same voice giving orders both in Greek and in the Babylonian or
Chaldean tongue of which I knew something through the teaching of my
tutor, Belus, also in others that I did not know, all of which talk
concerned myself.

"Take that helm from his head," said the soft voice, though not
softly. "O daughter of a fool, can you not see that you are pressing
the edge of it upon the bruise? Away with you! Let me do it. So. Now
remove the breastplate--that is easy for the straps have burst--and
open the tunic to give him air. What a white skin he has for an
Egyptian. Any woman would be proud of it. By the gods he is a noble-
looking youth and if he dies, as he may for I think his neck is
twisted, those who tied the camels there and left the ropes lying
shall pay for it. Now, wine. Where is the wine? Lift him gently and
pour some down his throat. Nay, not so. Would you drown the man? Hand
me the cup. Has that old leech been found? If not, bid him get himself
back to Syria as best he may----"

Just then I opened my eyes to the lids of which leaden weights seemed
to have been tied. They met the glance of other eyes above me, very
beautiful eyes that were neither blue nor black, but something between
the two. Also I became aware that a white arm was supporting my head
and that the fair and rounded breast of a very beautiful woman who was
kneeling beside me, touched my own.

"I am the envoy of the Pharaoh Apries, King of the two Lands and of
the countries beyond the sea. The Pharaoh says----" I began in feeble
tones, repeating the lesson that I had learned.

"Never mind what the Pharaoh says," answered she who leant over me in
a rich, low voice. "Like most of his messages of which I have had
many, I doubt not that it will serve as well to-morrow as to-day.
Drink this wine and lie quiet for a while--that is, if your neck is
not broken."

So I drank and lay still, thankful enough to do so for I had fallen on
my head and been much shaken, having clung with my hands to the reins
of my horse as I had been taught to do in the military school, instead
of stretching them out to protect myself. The wine was good and warmed
me; also it seemed to clear my brain, so that soon I was able to look
about me and take note.

I saw that the pavilion in which I lay was finer than any that I had
ever known, being hung all round with beautiful mats or carpets that
shone like silk wherever the light fell upon them. Also there was a
table at its end set with vessels of gold and silver, and round it
folding stools made of ebony inlaid with ivory and piled with
cushions, and a brazier that stood upon a tripod, for the desert air
was chill, wherein burnt wood that gave out sweet odours. Moreover
there were hanging lamps of silver that presently were lit by a
swarthy eunuch, for now night was closing in, which burned with a
clear white flame and like the fire gave out scents.

The eunuch, clad in his rich apparel and head-dress of twisted silk,
glanced at me out of his oblong eyes and went away, leaving me alone
in that perfumed place. Lying thus upon my soft, cushioned bed, a
strange mood took hold of me, as it does at times of those whose
brains reel under the weight of some heavy blow. I seemed to lose all
sense of time and place; I seemed to be floating on a cloud above the
earth, looking backwards and forwards. Far away behind me was a wall
or mass of blackness out of which I crawled, a tiny, naked child, into
the light of day. Then came visions of my infancy, little matters in
my life that I had long forgotten, words that my mother had murmured
into my baby ears, her caresses when I was sick; the softness of her
cheek as she pressed it against my fevered brow, and I know not what
besides. And all this while I, the infant in her arms, seemed to be
asking this question of her,

"Mother, whence came I and why am I here?"

To which she answered, "I do not know, my child. The gods will tell
you--when you are dead."

The stream of time flowed on. Yes, it was a stream, for I saw it
flowing, and on it I floated, clutching day by day at sticks and
straws wherewith I built me a house of life, as a bird builds its
nest, till at last I saw myself falling from the horse and for a
moment all grew dark. Then out of the darkness there appeared shadowy
shapes, some beautiful, some terrible, and I knew that these were the
spirits of the future showing me their gifts. They passed by and once
more before me was a black wall such as that whence I had seemed to
come in the beginning, which wall I knew was Death. I searched to find
some opening but could discover none. I sank down, outworn and
terrified, and lo! as I sank there appeared a glorious gateway, and
beyond it a city of many palaces and temples in whose courts walked
gods, or men who looked like gods.

My vision passed and I awoke, wondering where that city might be and
if within it I should find any habitation.

It was a foolish dream, yet I set it down because I think it told me
something of the mystery of birth and death. Or rather it set out
these mysteries, revealing nothing, for who knows what lies beyond
those black walls that are our Alpha and Omega and between which we
spell out the alphabet of Life. Also it was not altogether foolish,
for even then I knew that the shapes of terror which seemed to wait
upon my path were portents of advancing woe--and trembled. . . .

It must have been the dead of night when I awoke thus out of my swoon,
for now there was no sound in the camp, save the tramping of the
sentries and the howling of distant dogs or jackals smitten of the
moon. In the pavilion the scented lamps burned low or had been shaded,
so that the place was filled with a soft gloom, in which shadows
seemed to move, caused no doubt by the swinging of the lamps in the
draught of the night air. Yet one of these shadows, the most palpable
of them all, did not move; indeed it seemed to stand over me like a
ghost that waits the passing of one whom it has loved. I grew afraid
and stirred, thinking to speak, whereon the shadow turned its head so
that the light of the lamp fell upon the beautiful face of a woman.

"Who are you?" I asked in a whisper, for I seemed to fear to speak
aloud.

A sweet voice answered,

"O Ramose, Pharaoh's son and envoy, I am your hostess Atyra, once a
queen."

"And what do you here, Queen Atyra?"

"I watch you, my guest, in your swoon."

"A poor task, Lady, more fitting to a leech or slave."

"I think not, Ramose, son of the king, as I have been told that you
are by your escort and others. There is much to be learned from those
who sleep by one who has the gift of reading souls."

"Is it your gift, Lady?"

"I have been taught it by wise men in Syria, /magi/ the Persians call
them, and as I think not quite in vain. At least I have read your
soul."

"Then, Lady, you have read that which is worth nothing, for what is
written upon so short a scroll?"

"Much, Count Ramose, for our life is like the chapters of a book, and
already at our birth Fate has stamped the titles of those chapters
upon its clay, leaving it to Time to write the rest. Your story, I
think, will be long, if sad in part. Yet it was not to talk of such
things that I have come here alone at night."

"Why, then, did you come, Lady?"

"First to see how you fared, for your fall was heavy, and secondly, if
you were well enough, to hear your message."

"It is short, Lady. Pharaoh bids me say that he will answer your
requests to-morrow, since to-day it is too late."

"Yet it was not too late for him to send you, Count Ramose, charged
with words that mean nothing. I will tell you why he sent you; it was
to spy upon me and make report to him."

Thus she said, resting her chin upon her hand and looking at me with
her great dark eyes which shone in the lamplight like to those of a
night-bird, but I remained silent.

"You do not answer, O Ramose, because you cannot. Well, your office is
easy, for I will tell you all there is to learn. The old king, Abibal,
whose wife I was in name, is dead, and dying left a charge upon me--to
save his country from the Babylonians, calling down the curse of all
the gods upon my head in life and on my soul in death, should I fail
by my own fault to fulfil his dying prayer. Therefore I have come to
Egypt, although the oracles warned me against this journey, for the
case of these Syrians is very hard and desperate, and in Egypt lies
their only hope who alone cannot stand against the might of Babylon.
Tell me, Son of the king, will Apries help us?"

"I do not know, Lady," I answered, "but I do know that least of all
things does he, or Egypt, desire a war against Babylon. You must plead
your own cause with him; I cannot answer your question."

"How can I plead my cause, Count Ramose? I bring great gifts of gold
and silks and spices, but what are these to him who holds the wealth
of Egypt? I can promise allegiance and service, but my people are far
away and Egypt seeks no war in which they can be used."

Again I answered that I did not know, then added,

"Yet your nation could have found no better envoy, for Pharaoh loves a
beautiful woman."

"Do you think me beautiful?" she asked softly. "Well, to tell truth,
so have others, though as yet such favour as I have, has brought me
little joy----" and she sighed, adding slowly, "Of what use is beauty
to her who has found none to love?"

"I know little of such things, Lady. Yet, perhaps for you the search
is not finished."

She looked at me a while before she answered,

"My heart tells me that you are right, O Ramose. The search is not
finished."

Then she rose and taking a cup of wine gave me to drink of it,
afterwards drinking a little herself as though to pledge me.

This done, she poured the rest of the wine upon the ground, like to
one who makes an offering before some god, bent down so close that her
scented breath beat upon my brow, whispered to me to sleep well, and
glided away.

I think there must have been some medicine in that wine, for presently
all the pain left my head and neck and I fell fast asleep, yet not so
fast but that through the long hours I seemed to dream of the
loveliness of this Syrian queen, until at length I was awakened by the
sunlight shining in my eyes.

A servant who must have been watching me, noted this and went away as
though to call some one. Then an old man came, one with a white beard
who wore a strange-shaped cap.

"Greeting, Sir," he said in bad Greek. "As you may guess, I am the
court physician. Most unhappily I was absent last night, seeking for
certain plants that are said to grow in Egypt, which must be gathered
by the light of the moon, since otherwise they lose their virtue;
indeed, I returned but an hour ago."

"Is it so, Physician?" I answered. "Well, I trust that you found your
herbs."

"Yes, young sir, I found them in plenty and gathered them with the
appropriate spells. Yet I would I had never learned their name, for I
hear that my mistress is very wrath with me because I was not present
when you chanced to roll into the tent like a stone thrown from a
catapult, and may the gods help him with whom she is wrath! Still I
see that you live who, I was told, had a broken neck. Now let me see
what harm you have taken, if any."

Then he called to the eunuch to come within the screens that had been
set round me, and strip me naked. When this was done, he examined me
with care, setting his ear against my breast and back, and feeling me
all over with his hands.

"By Bel, or whatever god you worship," he said, "you have a fine
shape, young lord, one well fitted for war--or love. Nor can I find
that there is aught amiss with you, save a bruise upon your shoulder
and a lump at the back of your head. No bone is broken, that I will
swear. Stand up now and let me treat you with my ointments."

I stood up, to find myself little the worse save for a dizziness which
soon passed away, and was rubbed with his aromatics, and afterwards
washed and clothed. Then I was led out of the pavilion to where my men
were camped, who rejoiced to see me living and sound, for a rumour had
reached them that I was dead. With them I ate and a while later was
summoned to the presence of the Queen Atyra.

So once more I entered the pavilion, to find this royal lady seated in
a chair made of sycamore wood inlaid with ivory. I bowed to her and
she bowed back to me, giving no sign that she had ever seen me before.
Indeed she looked at me with her large eyes as though I were a
stranger to her, and I looked at her clad in her rich robes over which
flowed her black abundant hair, and marvelled at her beauty, for it
was great and moved me.

I will not set out all our talk; indeed after these many years much of
it is forgotten, though that which we held at midnight I remember
well, when we were but man and woman together, and not as now, an
envoy and a foreign queen discussing formal matters of state. The sum
of it was that she grieved to hear of my mischance, and prayed me to
accept a stallion of the Syrian breed in place of my own which had
been lamed through the carelessness of her servants, but rejoiced to
know from her physician that beyond a blow which stunned me for a
while, I had taken little harm.

I thanked her and delivered Pharaoh's message, at which she smiled and
said that it told her nothing, except that she must wait where she
was, until it pleased him to send another. Meanwhile she hoped that I
would be her guest as the physician told her I was not yet fit to
ride.

Now as this plan pleased me well, for to tell truth I longed for more
of the company of that most lovely woman, I summoned the scribe who
was amongst those who rode with me, and wrote a letter to Pharaoh,
telling him of what had chanced, which letter I despatched in charge
of two of my guard. They departed, and at evening returned again,
bringing an answer signed by Pharaoh's private scribe, which bade me
stay till I was able to travel, and then accompany the Queen Atyra to
the court.

So there I remained that night, being given a tent to sleep in near to
the pavilion. In the evening also I was bidden to eat with the queen
and certain of her councillors, when, as she alone knew the Grecian
tongue, the talk lay between her and me. Indeed as soon as the meal
was finished she made some sign whereat these men rose and went away,
leaving us alone.

The night was very hot, so hot that presently she said,

"Come, my young guest, if it pleases you, let us leave this tented
oven, and walk a while beneath the moon, breathing the desert air. No
need to call your guard, for here you are as safe as though you sat in
Pharaoh's palace."

I answered that it pleased me well, and calling for two of her women
to accompany us, we set forth, the queen wearing a hooded, silken
cloak that the women brought to her, which covered her white shape and
glittering jewels like a veil. I too was wrapped in a cloak, since I
wore no armour, and thus, we thought, the pair of us passed unnoted
through the camp.

At a distance on the crest of a sandy hill, stood the ruin of some old
temple overlooking the cultivated land and the broad waters of the
Nile. Thither we wended followed by the two women; at least at first
we were followed by them, but later when I looked I could not see them
any more. Still of this I said nothing who was well content to be
alone with this gracious and beautiful lady. We came to the temple and
entered its hoary courts whence a jackal fled away, as did a
night-bird perched upon a cornice, telling me that here there was no
man. At the far end of the court there remained a statue of Hathor,
one of a pair, for the other had fallen. That it was Hathor might
easily be known for she wore the vulture cap and above it horns
between which rested the disc of the moon. Near to the feet of this
statue in the shadow of a wall, Atyra sat herself down upon a broken
block of alabaster, motioning to me to place myself at her side.

"What goddess is this," she asked, "who carries the horns of a beast
upon the brow of a fair woman?"

"Hathor, goddess of Love," I answered, "whom some call Mistress of the
gods."

"Is it so? Well, by this title or by that she is known in every land,
and well is she named Mistress of the gods and men. Strange that
amidst all this ruin she alone should have stood through the long
centuries, an emblem of love that does not die. How beautiful is the
night! See the great moon riding in yonder cloudless sky. Look at her
rays glittering on the river's face and hark to the breeze whispering
among the palms beneath. Truly such a night should be dear to Hathor,
so dear that----"

Here she broke off her dreamy talk, then said suddenly,

"Tell me of yourself, Prince Ramose."

"Do not give me that title," I exclaimed. "If it were heard it might
bring trouble on me who am but a Count of Egypt by Pharaoh's grace!"

"Yet it is yours, Ramose," she answered, "and in this place there is
none to hear save Hathor and the moon. Now speak."

So I told her my short tale, to which she listened as though it had
been that of the deeds of a king; then said,

"But you have left out the half of it all. You have left out Hathor."

"I do not understand," I answered, looking down to hide my blushes.

"I mean that you have left out love. Tell me of those whom you have
loved. Do you not know that it is of love that all women wish most to
hear?"

"I cannot, Lady, for I have--never loved."

"If that be true, how deep a cup of love is left for you to drink,
whose lips have not yet sipped its wine, Ramose. So here in the shadow
of Hathor sit a pair of us, for to give you truth for truth, I tell
you that though I am your elder, I too have never loved."

"Yet you are a widow," I said astonished.

"Aye, the widow of an aged man who married me because of my birth, my
wit, my wealth, and the great friends I brought him, and whom I
married to serve my people that were threatened, as his are to-day, by
the giant might of Babylon. Abibal was to me a father and no more, if
a beloved father whose commands I will execute to the death, which
commands bring me upon a long and perilous journey to seek help from
mighty Pharaoh who desires to give me none."

Now I glanced at her sideways, and said,

"You are very beauteous, Lady. You have the eyes of a dove, the step
of a deer, the wisdom of a man and the grace of a palm. Were there
then none who pleased your eyes about your court in Syria?"

"While my lord lived I was blind, as became a loyal wife," she
answered.

"And now that he is dead, Lady?"

"Oh! now I cannot say. No more do I seek a husband who am a queen and
would remain free, the slave of no one, for what slavery is there like
to that of marriage? Yet it is true that I desire love, if I may
choose that love. Come; let us be going, for yonder Egyptian Hathor of
yours casts her spell over me and brings thoughts that for long I have
forbidden in my heart. I think that this is an evil-omened place; its
goddess tells of love, but its hoar ruins tell of death. Doubtless did
we but know it, here we sit above the shrouded dead who, staring at us
from their sepulchres, mock our beating hearts which soon will be as
still as theirs. Come; let us be going, who yet are young and free
from the webs of Hathor and of death. Death, I defy thee while I may.
Hathor, I make a mock of thee and thy calm, compelling gaze. Dost thou
not also make a mock of Hathor, Ramose?" and turning, she looked at me
with her great eyes that seemed to glow in the shadows like to those
of an owl.

"I do not know," I answered faintly, for those eyes drew the strength
out of me. "Yet it is dangerous to mock at any goddess, and most of
all at Hathor. Still, let us go, I think it very wise that we should
go; the scent of your hair overwhelms me who have been ill. My brain
rocks like a boat upon the sea. Hathor has me by the hand."

"Yes, I think that Hathor has us both by the heart," she answered in
her low rich voice, a voice of honey.

Then our lips met, for there in her temple we had drunk of Hathor's
cup.



                             CHAPTER III

                         THE COUNSEL OF BELUS

We rose; her face was like the dawn, her eyes were dewy, but I
trembled like a leaf, I whose heart for the first time love had
gripped with cruel hands.

I thought I saw a shadow flit across a pool of moonlight that lay
within the temple's broken pylon, the shadow of a man.

"What frightens you?" she asked.

I told her in a whisper.

"Perchance it was a spirit of which this place must be full, for such,
they say, look like shadows. Or perchance it was thrown from the broad
wings of some fowl of the night," she answered lightly. "At least if
it be otherwise, that watcher was too far away to have seen us here,
seated side by side in gloom. Certainly he could not have heard our
words. Yet, Ramose, Hathor's gift to me, I would warn you. Among those
who sat with us at the board to-night, did you take note of one, a
bearded man of middle age, hook-nosed, with flashing eyes like to
those of a hawk?"

"Yes, Lady Atyra, and I thought that he looked askance at me."

"It may be so. Listen. That man was a councillor of Abibal's, a priest
of his god also, and as such one of great power in the land. Always he
has pursued me with his love, and now he would wed me. But I hate him,
as hitherto I have hated all men, and will have none of him.
Moreover," here her voice grew hard and cold, "when I am strong enough
I will be rid of him, but that is not yet. If I can win Pharaoh's
friendship and bring it to pass that he names me to succeed to the
throne of Abibal, as his subject queen, then and not till then shall I
be strong enough, for this Ninari has a large following and the half
of my escort are sworn to him. Meanwhile, have no fear and be sure
that in this, our first kiss, I pledged my heart to you and to no
other man."

"I thank you, O most Beautiful," I answered. "Yet tell me, Lady, how
can this matter end? You have been a queen and will be one again,
while I am but Pharaoh's base-born son, one of many, though I think
that he loves me best of all of them. Also I am young and unproved.
What then can there be between us?"

"Everything before all is done, I think, Ramose, if you will but trust
to me who am wise and strong in my fashion, and being alas! older than
you are, have seen and learned more. Already I have a plan. I will
persuade Pharaoh to send you with me to Syria, there to be his eyes
and envoy, and once back in my own country I will be rid of this
Ninari and will take you as my husband, saying that such is Pharaoh's
will."

"May that day come soon!" I muttered, who already was as full of love
of this royal woman, as a drunkard is with wine.

Meanwhile we had left the temple, and were walking side by side but
not too near, down the slope of sand towards the camp. As we went,
from a clump of stunted sycamores appeared the two waiting-ladies whom
Atyra chided because they had not followed her more closely.

They answered that they had seen a man who looked like a thief of the
desert, watching them and being afraid, had taken refuge among the
trees till he went away down towards the river. Then they had come out
but could not find us, and therefore returned to the trees and waited,
not knowing what else to do.

"You should have run back to the camp and fetched a guard," she
answered angrily. "For is it meet that the Lady Atyra should wander
unaccompanied in the night?"

Then she dismissed them and they fell behind us, but although I was
young and knew little of women's tricks, the only thing I believed
about that tale, was that they had seen a man, perchance the same
whose shadow flitted across the moonlight within the broken pylon.

When we reached the camp and had passed the sentries in front of the
pavilion, we met the councillor and priest Ninari, who seemed to be
waiting there, doubtless for our return. He bowed low and spoke to the
queen in a Syrian tongue which I did not understand, and in that
tongue she answered him, somewhat sharply, as I thought. Again he
bowed low, almost to the ground indeed, but all the while I felt that
his fierce eyes were fixed upon me. Then with some courteous words to
myself, thanking me for my company, she passed into the pavilion.

I, too, turned to go to my own quarters where my escort awaited me,
when this Ninari stepped in front of me and said in bad and guttural
Greek,

"Young lord from the Pharaoh's court, your pardon, but I would have
you know that whatever may be the fashions of Egypt, it is not our
custom for strangers to walk alone with a great lady at night,
especially if she chances to be our queen."

Now there was something in the man's voice and manner which stirred my
blood, and I answered, holding my head high,

"Sir, I am a guest here and Pharaoh's envoy, and I go where my hostess
asks me to go, whatever may be your Syrian customs."

"You are strangely favoured," he said sneering. "Your horse which you
cannot manage, hurls you like a sack stuffed with barley into the
presence of our mistress. She doctors your bruised poll, and now takes
you out walking in the moonlight. Well, well, I should remember that
you are but a forward, cross-bred Egyptian boy, well-looking enough as
bastards of your kind often are in their youth, just such a one as it
pleases grown women to play with for an hour and then cast aside."

I listened to this string of insults welling like venom from the black
heart of the jealous Syrian. At first they amazed me to whom no such
words had ever been used before. Then as the meaning of his coarse
taunts, hissed out in broken Greek, came home to me, being no coward I
grew enraged.

"Dog!" I said, "beast of a Syrian, do you dare to talk thus to
Pharaoh's envoy, a Count of Egypt?" and lifting my arm I, who was a
trained boxer, doubled my fist and smote him in the face with all my
strength, so that he went headlong to the ground.

At the sound of my raised voice men ran together from here and there--
some of them those of my own escort whose tents were near at hand,
some of them Syrians--and stood staring as this Ninari went backward
to the earth. In a moment he was up again, blood pouring from his
hooked nose, and came at me, a curved and naked blade in his hand,
which I suppose he had drawn as he rose. Seeing this, I too drew my
short Grecian sword and faced him, though there was this difference
between us, that whereas I had no armour, being clothed only in a
festal dress of linen, he wore a coat of Syrian mail. My men, noting
this, would have thrown themselves between us, but I shouted to them
to stand aside. The Syrians would have done likewise, but at some
command that I did not hear, they also fell back. Thus we were left
facing each other in the full moonlight which was almost as clear as
that of day.

Ninari smote at me with his broad, curved blade. I bent almost to my
knee and the blow went over my head. Rising, I thrust back. My sword-
point struck him full beneath the breast but could not pierce his good
armour, though it caused him to reel and stumble. Again he came at me,
smiting lower to catch me on the body which he knew was unprotected,
and this time I must leap far backwards, so that the point of his
blade did no more than cut through my linen garment and just scratch
the skin beneath.

Yet that scratch stung me, more perhaps than a deeper wound would have
done, and made me mad. Uttering some old Greek war-cry, as I think one
my mother had taught me as that of her father's House, I flew at the
man and smote him full upon his helm, shearing off one side of it and
causing him to stagger. Before he could recover himself I smote again
and though the steel glanced from the edge of his severed helm, yet
passing downwards, it cut off his right ear and sank deep into his
neck and shoulder.

He fell and lay there, as it was thought, dead. The Syrians began to
murmur for they did not love to see a noted warrior of their race thus
defeated by an unarmoured youth. My men, fearing trouble, ringed me
round, muttering such words as:

"Well done, young Ramose!" "You have lopped that cur's ear, Count,
although he wore a collar when you had none." "Now if any other Syrian
would like a turn----" and so forth, for this escort of mine, some of
them Greek and some Egyptian, were all picked fighters of Pharaoh's
guard, and rejoiced that their boy officer should have won in so
uneven a fray.

The business grew dangerous; the friends of Ninari drew their weapons
and waved spears. My escort made a ring about me in the Grecian
fashion, their swords stretched out in front of them. Then I heard a
woman's voice cry,

"Have done! Fools, would you bring Pharaoh's wrath upon us and cause
our country's prayer to him to be refused? If this young Egyptian lord
has done ill, let Pharaoh judge him."

"Queen," I broke in, panting between my words, "I have done no ill.
This follower of yours," and I pointed to Ninari who lay upon the sand
groaning, "for no cause bespattered me with the vile mud of insults,
till at length unable to bear more, I felled him with my hand. He rose
and although I wear no mail, sprang at me to slay me with his sword.
So I must defend myself as best I might. There are many here who can
bear witness that I speak the truth."

"It is needless, Count Ramose," she answered in a clear voice, "for
know that I heard and saw something of this business and hold that you
were scarcely to blame, save that you should have taken no heed of mad
or wine-bred talk. Yet, lest harm should come to you and I and my
people be put to shame, I pray you leave this camp now at once and
return to Sais whither I will follow you to-morrow to seek audience of
Pharaoh and ask his pardon. Let the horses of Pharaoh's envoy be made
ready."

Men ran to do her bidding, but my guard who looked doubtfully at the
Syrians, remained about me, save two of them who went to my tent and
thence brought my armour which they helped me to gird on.

Meanwhile that same old leech who had tended me, had been busy with
Ninari whom he ordered to be carried to his tent. Now he rose and made
his report to Atyra.

"The Lord Ninari henceforth must go one-eared," he said. "Also the
Egyptian's sword has cut through his mail and sunk into the flesh of
his shoulder, for the blow was mighty. Yet by chance it seemed to have
missed the big vein of the neck, so unless his hurts corrupt I think
that he will live."

"I pray the gods it may be so," answered Atyra in a cold voice, "and
that henceforth his tongue may remember what has chanced to his ear.
Hear me all! If any lifts a hand against Pharaoh's envoy or his
company because of this matter, he dies. Farewell, Count Ramose, till
we meet again at Sais," and with one flashing glance of her great
eyes, she turned and went, followed by her women.

A while later I and my guard rode out of the camp, I mounted upon the
desert-bred stallion that the queen had given me in place of my own
beast which was lamed. The Syrians watched us go in silence, except
one fellow who cried out,

"You won that fight, young cock of Egypt, but it will bring you no
good luck who have cropped the ear of the priest Ninari and earned the
curse of his god."

I made no answer, but presently when we were clear of the camp and
riding alone in the moonlight, I began to think to myself that this
visit of mine had been strange and ill-omened. It began with the fall
of my horse, which hurled me, as Ninari had said, like a sack of
barley into the presence of her to whom I was sent, a mischance which
even to this day I cannot remember without shame. Then came those
hours when I lay half-swooning and in pain, and woke to find that most
beautiful queen watching me alone, which in Egypt we should have
thought strange, though mayhap the Syrians and the desert-dwellers had
easier customs. At last she spoke and told me that she had come thus
to read my soul while I slept. Why should she wish to read the soul of
one who was unknown to her until that day?

Now I bethought me of what had passed between us afterwards in the
ruined temple, and an answer rose in my mind. It must be because at
first sight of my face this lady had been smitten with love of me, as
I had heard sometimes chances to women and to men also. Could I doubt
it with her kiss still burning on my lips? And yet who knew--it might
be that she did but play a part to serve her secret ends, which caused
her to put out her woman's strength and make me her slave. Why not?

This love of hers, if love it were, had been most swift. Was it to be
believed that she, my elder by some years, would suddenly become
enamoured of a lad? Was it not easy (as indeed I knew) for a woman to
feign passion? Was it not done every day on the street or elsewhere?
What did a few kisses matter to such a one? Was I more than a young
fool beguiled, and for this beguilement was there not good reason? I
was Pharaoh's son whom he was known to favour in his fashion because I
was well-looking, quick, and, in a way, learned. Also I was his envoy,
one whose report he would accept. Further, this great Syrian lady
desired Pharaoh's help. What more natural, then, than that she should
strive to win that favoured son and envoy to her interests, and how
could she bind him better to her than with her lips and wanton hair?

So this was the sum of it, that I knew not whether I were but a
painted plaything or the jewel on her breast. All I knew, alas! was
that she had taken my heart into those soft white hands of hers and
that passion for her burned me up.

Truly it was an evil business and to make it worse I had quarrelled
with and hewn off the ear of that jealous-hearted, foul-tongued
priest-minister of hers, who doubtless hoped to wed her and thus win a
throne. Oh! truly this had been an accursed journey from which no good
could come, as that shouter of a Syrian had foretold. And yet--and
yet, I was glad to have made it, for Atyra's kisses burned upon my
lips and I longed for more of them when she came to Sais.

We reached the palace before the dawn and I went to my chamber and
slept, for after all that had chanced to me this night I was very
weary. Also there was time, since none might appear before Pharaoh
until within two hours of midday, after he had made his offerings to
the god and rested. When at length I awoke, the first thing that my
eyes fell upon was the brown, wrinkled face of my master and friend,
the learned Babylonian, Belus.

"Greeting, Ramose," he said. "I heard that you were returned and as
you did not come to me, I have come to you. They are telling strange
stories in the courtyards of your adventures yonder in the desert,
stories that are little to your credit as an envoy, although they
praise you as a man. At least I hear that your escort speak well of
your swordsmanship. Now out with these tales, for they will go no
further than my ears, and for the rest, perhaps I can give you good
counsel."

So because we loved each other, I told him everything from the
beginning to the end. He listened, then said,

"When I entered this chamber, Ramose, I smelt two things, the scent of
a woman's hair and the reek of a man's blood; which was natural as you
have neither bathed your face nor cleaned your sword. Or perhaps the
spirit that is in me did this; it does not matter. Now what has
chanced to you was to be expected, seeing that you are young and well-
favoured, one of a kind that women will seek out, as butterflies seek
the nectar that they love in the throats of certain infrequent
flowers; one, too, whose hand is shaped to a sword-hilt. So the woman
has come and the sword has swung aloft and now follows the trouble."

He paused a while in thought, then went on,

"As you know, Ramose, in the time that I have to spare from the
writing of letters to Babylon and work or learning of the useful sort,
I follow after divination according to our Babylonian methods by the
help of stars and the shadows that these throw in crystals or in
water, a foolish and uncertain art, yet one through which now and
again peeps the cold eye of Truth. Last night at least it told me
something, namely that you would do well to take a journey by
Pharaoh's leave, say to Memphis to see your mother, until this half-
queen, Atyra, has finished her business at the court and returned to
Syria."

"I do not wish to leave the court at present, Belus," I answered
awkwardly.

"Ah! I guessed as much. They say that though past her youth, this
Syrian woman is very fair and doubtless those experienced eyes of hers
have pierced to your heart and set it afire. Yet I pray you to go till
she has departed back to Syria."

"You speak earnestly, Belus. Tell me, what else did the starlight show
you in your crystal?"

"That which I liked little, Son--much, and yet nothing. That light
turned to blood--whose blood I do not know, yet in the red mist I saw
shapes moving and one of them was--yours, Ramose."

Now I grew afraid and that I might find time to think, bade him speak
on.

"Hearken, Son. You have tasted a wine that some men desire more than
any other and you would drain the cup. Yet the dregs of this
passionate drink from nature's ancient cup are always bitter and often
deadly or charged with shame. You would make that woman yours and
perchance if she does not play with you, you may succeed, for I think
that she too found the potion sweet. Yet I say that if so it will be
to your sorrow and hers."

"Why should I not love her?" I broke in. "She is beautiful and wise,
she is unwed. Though she be older than I am I would make her my wife
and share her fortunes. May not a man take a wife who pleases him and
whom he pleases?"

"A man may if he is foolish," answered Belus with his quiet smile,
"but what is mere unwisdom for a man, for a lad is often madness.
Moreover this lady lies like a bait in a snare-net full of policies,
high policies that you do not understand. To meddle with her may bring
about a war with Babylon, or perchance may throw the peoples whose
cause she is here to plead, into the arms of Babylon and thus open
Egypt's flank to Egypt's foes. If either of these troubles happened,
do you think you would earn Pharaoh's thanks? I say that he would
curse you and cast you forth, perhaps over the edge of the world into
death's darkness.

"Indeed already one of them has begun. Because of her you have fought
with a priest of her gods that are not your gods or those of Egypt, or
even of the Greeks, black gods and bloody. You have cut him down and
maimed him, even if he is not slain. Do you hold that this priest and
counsellor will suffer those gods or their worshippers to forget such
an outrage against their minister? Will he not lay that severed ear of
his upon their altar and cry to them for vengeance. Already it seems
the Syrians muttered curses on you as you rode away, and if they come
to learn that you, an alien of another faith, are the favoured lover
of their lady, the widow of their king, through whom since he has left
no children, perchance one of them hopes to win his throne, what then?

"Lastly, I warn you that this business may end in terrors, or rather I
pass on the warning that my spirit gives me. I pray you, Ramose, to
heed my counsel. Let me go to Pharaoh and ask of him to send you hence
till this embassy is finished. Indeed I would that I had gone already,
as soon as I learned your tale."

Thus he spoke and watching him I noted that he was much in earnest,
for his face had flushed and his hands quivered. Now, although my
flesh rebelled, for I yearned to see Atyra again more than ever I had
yearned for anything, my reason bent itself before the will of this
master of mine, whom I loved and who, as I knew, loved me. I would
accept his decree as though it were that of an oracle; if Pharaoh
permitted, I would go to Memphis or elsewhere and if I must find a
sweetheart, she should be one of a humbler sort upon whose favours
hung no great matters of the state. Yet, having as it seemed, made
conquest of so lovely and high-placed a lady, a victory of which I was
proud indeed, it was very hard to leave her without reason given or
farewell. Still it should be done--presently.

"Belus," I said, "wait a little while I bathe myself and change my
garments, and eat a mouthful of food. I think that I will do as you
wish, but you ask much of me and I would have a space in which to
think. Be pleased, therefore, dear Belus, to grant it to me."

He studied me with his bright and kindly eyes, then answered,

"Take what you wish, for well I know the vanity of youth and that if I
deny your will, it may turn you against my counsel. I will wait,
though in this matter I hold that delay is folly. Be swift now, for
with every minute that passes, danger draws more near.

So I withdrew and the black slaves who were my servants, for in all
ways at the palace I was treated as a great lord and even as a prince,
bathed me and clothed me in fresh garments and dressed my hair. While
they did so I ate a little and drank a cup of wine that was brought to
me. These things done I went into the anteroom where Belus walked to
and fro with bowed head.

"What word?" he asked.

"Master," I answered, "I have taken counsel with myself and though it
costs me dear, I bow to your will, knowing that you are wise, while I
am but a lad and full of folly. Go to Pharaoh, lay all this matter
before him, giving it your own colour. Then, if having heard, he
thinks it well that I should depart, I will do so at once and see the
Queen Atyra no more, though thus I earn her scorn, or even her hate."

"Well spoken, Son!" he answered, "though I would that you had been
less stubborn and had found those words an hour ago. Still, such
sacrifice is hard to the young and I forgive you. Now bide you here
while I wait on Pharaoh in his private chamber to which I have entry
as one whom he consults upon many secret matters, also on those of his
health. Presently I will return with his commands."

As the words left his lips the curtains at the far end of the chamber
opened and through them came a messenger, clad in the royal livery,
who bowed to me and said,

"King's Son and Count Ramose, Pharaoh commands your presence, now, at
once."

"I obey," I answered but Belus at my side groaned and muttered,

"All is spoilt! Too late! Too late!"



                              CHAPTER IV

                          THE FALL OF RAMOSE

I was led to Pharaoh's private chamber, Belus coming with me. Here I
found him in a troubled and a wrathful mood, and guessed from his face
and those of certain who waited on him, among them Amasis the General,
he who was afterwards destined to become Pharaoh, that there was evil
tidings in the wind. Here I should write that this Amasis, a fine-
looking man though of no high birth, and a great soldier, was a friend
to me to whom he had taken a fancy while I was still quite a boy. It
was under his command that I had learned all I knew of matters which
have to do with war, the handling of weapons and the leading of men.

"How shall we act?" Pharaoh was saying to Amasis. "There can be no
doubt that the King of Babylon intends to threaten, if not to attack
Egypt now that he has finished with those Hebrews. Moreover it is the
matter of the Syrian tribes over whom Abibal was king that has brought
the business to a head. Nebuchadnezzar, or whoever holds the real
power in Babylon now that he is sunk in age, has heard of the embassy
of the Queen Atyra to me, and purposes to be beforehand with us,
fearing lest we should aid the Syrians. That is why he sends an army
against Egypt."

"I hold that it is but a feint, Pharaoh," answered Amasis, "for as yet
the Babylonians have not strength upon the frontier for so vast an
enterprise. The best plan is to be bold. Do you send me with another
army to guard our borders, and meanwhile speak this queen fair, lest
suddenly she, or her Syrians, should turn round, make peace with
Babylon and join in the onslaught. Then the danger would be great
because those Syrian tribes are countless."

"Good counsel, or so I think," said Pharaoh. "Do you set about
gathering troops, friend Amasis, and make all things ready, but as
quietly as may be."

At this moment his eye fell upon me, and he said,

"So you are back, son Ramose. Now tell me what is all this tale I hear
about you? First it seems you tumble off your horse and make yourself
a laughing-stock to the Syrians, and next you quarrel with one of
them, a dangerous fellow and a priest called Ninari of whom I have
heard before, and crop him of an ear. I am angry with you. What have
you to say?"

"Only this, Pharaoh," I answered. "It was my horse that tumbled over a
rope, not I, and for the rest the Syrian insulted me, using words that
you would not have wished your son to suffer; no, nor any gentleman of
Egypt."

"Why did he insult you, Ramose? Had you perchance drunk too much of
that strong Syrian wine?"

"Not so, Pharaoh. It was because at her own request I had led the
Queen Atyra to the ruined temple above her camp, that thence she might
look on the river by moonlight. This I did because Pharaoh bade me to
win the friendship of the queen and learn all I could of her mind."

"Indeed, Ramose. And did you perchance learn anything else of her--let
us say, that her eyes were bright or her lips soft?"

Now the blood came to my face while Amasis laughed in his rough
fashion, and even Pharaoh smiled a little as he went on,

"Well, if you did, you will not tell me, so to ask is useless. Listen.
I know this--for when I sent you on that business, I sent others to
keep a watch on you--I say I know that this lady found you to her
taste, or made pretence to do so for her own ends. Therefore I
overlook your foolishness and purpose to make use of you. Presently
she will be at the palace. I appoint you the officer in attendance on
her with command to draw from her all you can and report what you
learn to me. For now that I do not trust this woman who perchance is
after all but a spy of Babylon. Do you hear me?"

"I hear, Pharaoh," I answered bowing low to hide the doubt and trouble
in my eyes.

"Then understand this also: That I put a great trust upon you, Ramose.
Play the lover if you like, but remember that your first duty is to
play the spy. Above all, no more quarrels with Ninari or any other. Do
nothing foolish. Speak warm words, but let your heart stay cold. Now
opportunity is in your hand and if you fail me, it will be for the
last time; aye, your life may hang on it."

"Spare me this task, Pharaoh," I muttered, "for it is one that may
prove too hard for me. Give it to another, an older man like--like
Belus."

Pharaoh looked at Belus who although not very old, already was bald
and withered like to an ancient papyrus that for centuries has been
buried in the sand. He was cold-eyed also and one who shrank away from
women as though they were smitten by a plague, a man from whom wisdom
and learning seemed to ooze, but whose history, heart and ends were
hidden; somewhat sinister withal, save to the few he loved, perhaps
from long acquaintance with dark secrets whispered by spirits in the
night. Yes, Pharaoh looked at him and laughed.

"The learned Belus has his uses," he said, "as all know when they are
smitten in body or in soul, but I do not think that the cozening of
fair women is one of them. Each to his trade and part. But, Ramose,
beware lest you betray the one and overdo the other. Take, but give
nothing, and above everything be friends with all, even with this
Ninari if he lives, praying his pardon and salving his hurt with
gifts."

Then he waved his hand to dismiss me and once more fell into talk with
the General Amasis.

I prostrated myself and went, followed by Belus, my tutor, who, when
we had reached my quarters, sat himself down upon the floor like a
mourner and wiped his brow, saying,

"Unless you are wiser than I think, son Ramose, all is finished and
you are lost."

I stared at him in question and he went on,

"Do you not understand that Pharaoh has set you a terrible task? You,
the hungry bee, must hover over the open flower but not taste its
nectar; you, the dazzled moth, must wheel round the flame but not
scorch your wings. You, the young and ardent, must play the part of
the aged and the cold. Moreover, this he has done of deep purpose, to
try your quality and to learn whether duty can conquer passion. I
think that if you prevail in this matter, he means to lift you high,
even to the footsteps of the throne. But if you fail, why then,
farewell to you."

"I shall not fail," I answered wearily, "for my honour is on it. Now
let me rest a while. I have been hurt, I have gone through much and
for two nights I have had little sleep; also I have fought for my
life."

Then without more words I threw myself down upon my bed and soon
forgot all things, even Atyra.

When I awoke it was already late afternoon, so late that scarcely was
there time before night fell for me to visit the chambers of the
palace where the Queen Atyra and her servants were to lodge, and give
orders for their preparation, as now I had authority to do. These
chambers as it chanced, whether by design or by accident, adjoined my
own, for I dwelt in some small rooms of that wing of the great palace
that was used to house Pharaoh's guests. Therefore I had not far to
go, only the length of a short passage indeed, and through a door of
which I held the key.

Until it was dark and next morning from the sunrise, aided by
chamberlains and other palace servants, I laboured at this making
ready. All was clean, all was garnished, everywhere flowers were set.
Beautiful curtains were hung up, vessels of gold and silver fit for a
queen's use were provided; the garden ground that lay in the centre of
this wing of the palace, having in it a little lake filled with lotus
flowers, was tended so that if she pleased, the Queen Atyra might sit
there beneath the shadow of palms and flowering trees, the eunuchs
were furnished with fresh robes, and I know not what besides.

At length when all was prepared, I looked out from an upper window and
saw the cavalcade of the Syrians drawing near to the palace. In its
centre, preceded and followed by white-robed, turbaned men mounted
upon camels, was a splendid litter which doubtless held the queen for
it was surrounded by a guard of horsemen. Also there were other
litters for her women, while last of all came one like that on which
the sick are borne, whereof the bearers stepped very carefully, that I
guessed hid none other than the priest Ninari, who to tell truth I
hoped had gone to the bosom of Osiris, or of whatever god he
worshipped. Belus who was by me, read as much in my eyes and shook his
head, saying,

"Snakes are very hard to kill, my son, as I who have hunted one for
years, know as well as any man and better than most. Be careful lest
this one should live to bite you."

Then I hurried away to be arrayed in the festal robes of a Count of
Egypt and to put about my neck the gold chain that marked my rank as
the son of a king. Scarcely was I prepared when a messenger summoned
me to the great hall of audience. Thither I went to find Pharaoh
gloriously attired, wearing the double crown, with the gold ear-rings
and other ornaments of state, and holding in his hand a sceptre. Round
about him were the great officers of the court, at his feet crouched
scribes, while just behind the fan-bearers stood his generals, some
Egyptian and some Greek, all clad in armour, amongst whom I noted
Amasis.

I advanced, followed by Belus my tutor, and prostrated myself before
the throne. Pharaoh bade me rise and with his sceptre pointed to where
I should stand among, or rather a little in front of, the nobles and
king's sons, of whom there were several, my half-brothers born of
different ladies, though I was the eldest of them. As I went, stepping
backwards and bowing at each step, Pharaoh turned and spoke to Amasis
and I think his words were that I was a young man of whom any king
might be proud to be the father.

"Yes," answered Amasis in a hoarse whisper that reached me, "yet it is
pity that he is so like to one of those statues that the Greeks of
whom you are so fond, fashion of their gods. His mother has too much
share in him, Pharaoh. Look at his curly head."

Then they both laughed and I nearly fell in my confusion.

At this moment trumpets blew, heralds cried aloud, and preceded by
officers with white wands, the Queen Atyra appeared between the
pillars at the end of the hall of audience. On her head she wore a
glittering crown, jewels shone upon her breast, pearls were twisted in
her looped and raven locks and round her white wrists, while her
silken train was borne by fair waiting-women. Oh! seen thus, she was
beautiful, so beautiful that as I watched her tall, imperial shape
glide up that hall like a sunbeam through its shadows, my heart stood
still and my lips burned with the memory of her kiss. A little sigh of
wonder went up from the courtiers and through it I heard the jesting
Amasis whisper once more,

"I wish that you had given me Ramose's office, Pharaoh," to which
Apries answered,

"Nay, you are too rough, you would frighten this Syrian dove, whereas
he will stroke her feathers."

"Dove! Dove!" muttered Amasis.

Then Pharaoh lifted his sceptre and there was silence.

Atyra drew near in all her scented beauty, with bent head and downcast
eyes. Yet for one instant those dark eyes were lifted and I felt
rather than saw them flash a look upon me, saw also the red lips
tremble as though with a little smile. I think that Belus saw also,
for I heard a groan come from where he stood near by in attendance on
me. The queen mounted the royal dais and curtseyed low, though
prostrate herself she did not because she was a majesty greeting a
majesty. Pharaoh descended from his throne and taking her hand, led
her to a seat that was placed near though slightly lower than this
throne.

Then she spoke--in Greek which by now had become the courtly language
among many nations that did not know each other's speech. An
interpreter began to render her words, but Apries, waving him aside,
answered her in the same tongue which he knew as well as he did his
own, having learned it from my mother and others. This caused many of
the Egyptians round him to frown, especially those that were old or
wedded to ancient ways which had come down to them through thousands
of years, who hated the Greeks with their new fashions, their language
and all that had to do with them. Indeed I noted that even Amasis
frowned and shrugged his shoulders and that the other Egyptian
generals looked on him with approval as he did so.

As for the talk between Atyra and Pharaoh, it need not be set out. She
made a formal prayer to him, reminding him of the ancient friendship
between the Syrians and Egypt that more than once during the
generations which had gone by, had been their over-lord, yes, from the
time of the great Thotmes onward, though sometimes they had quarrelled
"as a wife will, even with the husband whom she loves." Now she, the
widow of Abibal who had been the head king of the Syrian peoples and
who had died leaving his mantle upon her shoulders, came to seek
renewal of that alliance, even though Syria must thus once more become
the wife of Egypt and serve as a wife serves.

Here Pharaoh asked shrewdly if this wife sought to shun the arms of
some other lover, whereon she answered with boldness, "yes," that this
was so and that the name of that lover was Babylon, Egypt's ancient
enemy and the one from whom she had most to fear.

Now Pharaoh grew grave, saying that this was a very great matter of
which he must consider with himself and his councillors, after private
talk with her. Then dismissing all such affairs of state, he asked her
how it had fared with her during her long journey, from which he hoped
that she would rest a while here in his palace at Sais, treating it as
her own. She answered that she desired nothing better, who all her
life had hoped to visit Egypt and acquaint herself with its wonders
and its wisdom.

So this prepared and balanced talk went on, reminding me of a heavy
weight swinging to and fro, and never going further or less far, till
at length Pharaoh bade her to a banquet that night. Then, as though by
an afterthought, he added,

"O Queen Atyra, the other day I sent Ramose, a young Count of Egypt in
whom runs no mean blood, to your camp to welcome you in Egypt's name.
I grieve to hear that while he was there a quarrel arose between him
and one of your followers, and for this I ask your pardon."

"There is no need, Pharaoh," she answered smiling, "seeing that in
every quarrel there is something to be said on either side."

"Then, Queen Atyra, if you can forgive him, would it please you that
while you are here I should appoint this Ramose who stands yonder, to
be your chamberlain to attend upon your wants and bear your wishes to
me? Or would you prefer that I should choose some older man to fill
this office?"

"I think that it would please me well," she answered indifferently,
"seeing that I found the Count Ramose a pleasant companion and one
with whom I could talk in Greek; also one who can instruct me in the
customs and history of Egypt and in its tongue, all of which I desire
to learn. Yet let it be as the Pharaoh wills. Whoever Pharaoh chooses
will be welcome to me."

So saying, she turned her head to speak to one of her servants in her
own language, as though the matter troubled her not at all.

"Count Ramose," said Pharaoh, addressing me, "for the days of her stay
at our court we give this royal lady into your keeping. Let it be your
duty to wait upon her and to attend to her every want, making report
to us from time to time of how she fares. Know, Ramose, that we shall
hold you to strict account for her safety and her welfare and that if
aught of ill befalls her while she is in your keeping, you shall make
answer for it to us."

Thus in formal, stately words was the lady Atyra set in my charge. I
heard and bowed, while the other courtiers looked on me with envy, for
this was a great duty and one that should bring with it advancement
and rewards. Yet it is true that as I bowed my heart, which should
have leapt for joy, seemed to sink and fail so that I could scarcely
feel it beat. It was as though some icy hand of fear had gripped it by
the roots. A great terror took hold of me, a shadow of woe to come
fell upon me. Almost I determined to prostrate myself and pray Pharaoh
to confer this honour on some other man, one with more knowledge and
older. I even turned to advance to the steps of the throne and do so,
although I knew that such a prayer would cause me to be mocked by all
the court. It was too late, Pharaoh had risen; his decree was written
on the rolls, the audience was at an end.



Now I will press on with the terrible story of Atyra which was to turn
the current of my life and for aught I know, robbed me of the throne
of Egypt. At least so Belus held, as did some others, though if so,
that is a loss over which I do not grieve.

For a while all went well. I waited on the queen; with her officers I
was her companion at her table; I instructed her as best I might in
all she wished to learn, for to me alone she would listen and not to
Belus or another. When she visited Pharaoh and his councillors I
accompanied her, standing back so that I might not overhear their
secrets. In short I did all those things I had been instructed to do,
even to make report of everything I learned from the queen as I had
been bidden.

One day she turned on me laughing and said,

"I thought you were my friend, Ramose, but I find that you are nothing
but a spy who repeats to Pharaoh all I say. I know it because he used
to me some of my very words, thinking that they were his own, which
words could only have come to him through you."

Now I turned aside and hung my head, whereon she leant over me,
whispering,

"Foolish boy, do not think I am angry with you, who know well that you
must do your duty and therefore tell you nothing that you may not cry
out from every pylon top. These matters of policy are between me and
Pharaoh, or rather between Syria and Egypt. I and you have others to
discuss that Pharaoh would think dull. Now tell me of your boyhood and
of the woman that you first thought fair."

So it went on and ever as I drew back, so she came forward. At first I
think that she was puzzled who could not understand why I resisted her
and made search to find some other woman who had built a wall between
us. Soon she discovered that there was none; indeed she drew this out
of me. At last in a flash she guessed the truth--that I was under an
oath, to my own heart or another, which, mattered not, to treat her as
a queen who was Egypt's guest, and no more.

Then Atyra did what she should not have done, as doubtless she knows
to-day. She set herself to make me break that oath. For nothing else
do I blame her who, I know, loved me truly, boy though I was. But for
this, how can she escape from blame? She knew that her witchery was on
me, she knew that she had made me mad--indeed in those days of
resistance I went near to madness, I who worshipped her as a thing
divine, and yet she put out all her woman's strength to break my will
and cause me to forswear myself.

At last the matter came to a head, as such do always. The feast was
over, the guests had departed, I presented myself, as I must, to take
my farewell of her for the night, and found that I was alone with her
in the little ante-chamber where a single lamp burned dimly. She was
standing at a window-place cut in the thickness of the wall, watching
the rising of the moon, a figure clad all in white, but for some
scarlet pomegranate blooms fastened upon her breast, for her maids had
relieved her of her royal ornaments, save a girdle of gold about her
waist.

Discovering her at length I advanced to inquire her commands for the
morrow, bow and be gone.

"How quietly you walk, Ramose," she said. "I heard you not, yet I knew
that you were coming. Yes, I felt your presence, as we do that of
those whom we love--or hate. My orders? Oh! I have none to give you at
the moment, young chamberlain. Why think of the morrow on such a night
as this. Look at that great moon rising yonder out of the desert. No
wonder that you Egyptians set your Isis in the moon, for it is a
lovely throne fit for any goddess. Now of what does this one put me in
mind? Ah! I remember--of that which rose over the waters of the Nile
when you and I sat together in a ruined temple of the desert. Do you
not remember it?"

I muttered some answer, I know not what it was, and half-turned to go,
when with a swift and sudden motion she flung herself against me. Yes,
from her foot to her shoulder I felt all the weight of her beautiful
body leaning against me.

I never stirred, I did nothing, and yet I know not how, presently her
lips were on my own.

She drew away, laughing low and happily, and asked,

"Now, Ramose, do you remember that night in the ruined temple when we
looked together at the moon rising over the Nile?"

I fled away, and as I fled, still she laughed.



It was after this that for the first time I saw the priest Ninari
among the other servitors of the queen, recovered of his wounds but
wearing a cap with lappets that hung down over his ears. He greeted me
courteously enough, but in his eyes was a fierce look that I could not
misunderstand.

"We quarrelled once, young lord," he said, "but now that you are the
appointed guardian of my queen, we are friends, are we not?"

"Surely," I answered.

"Then all is well between us, young lord, while you guard her
faithfully, who otherwise may quarrel once more and with a different
ending." And again he smiled upon me with those fierce eyes and was
gone.

On the evening of my meeting with Ninari, I was in waiting on Queen
Atyra in the garden of which I have written, and noted that she was
troubled. Presently she led me to a seat beneath the palms in front of
which lay the little pool where flowered the blue lotus lilies. It was
a pleasant, secluded seat hidden from the rest of the garden and from
the palace windows by a bank of flowering shrubs and of tall reed-like
plants with feathery heads.

"What ails you?" I asked.

"Everything, Ramose," she answered. "All goes awry and I would that I
were dead. My mission to Pharaoh is ended, and not so ill. To-morrow
at the dawn the Egyptian general Amasis, with a great force most of
which has gone on before, advances to attack the Babylonians on the
borders of Egypt. To-morrow also I leave Sais to journey back to my
own country. It was decided but an hour ago. Do you understand that I
leave Sais?"

"I understand, Queen, though this sudden plan amazes me. Why do you go
so swiftly?"

"I will tell you. Ninari has been with Pharaoh and has told him that
news has come from my country that those who are left in power there,
urged on by the people who are afraid, threaten to make peace with
Babylon, and that one of the terms of that peace will be that we
Syrians should join the Babylonians in the attack on Egypt. He has
told him also that there is but one hope of defeating this treachery,
namely, that I should return at once bearing Pharaoh's offers of
alliance, and as the wife of Ninari who alone can control the
priesthood, which is the real power in the land, and overthrow this
plot."

"As the wife of Ninari," I gasped. "May the gods avert it!"

"The gods make no sign, Ramose. If there be any gods, these ask of men
that they should carve their own fate upon the cliffs of Time. In this
matter Ninari is the god."

For a little while we sat silent staring at the lotus blooms. Then she
spoke again.

"Do you love me, Ramose?"

"You know that I love you," I answered.

"Yes, yet your love is to my love but as a dewdrop to the waters in
that lake. Ramose, a madness has taken hold of me. I will tell you the
truth. You are very young and as yet of small account in the world,
while I am a queen who perchance will become the sovereign of a great
country, if with Egypt's help we can overthrow Babylon, as may happen
now that Nebuchadnezzar grows old and feeble and there is none to take
his place. Still I say to you that you, the son of Pharaoh's woman,
are more to me than all earth's thrones and glory. Here fate thrusts
me on, not folly or passion, but fate itself with an iron hand. I will
have none of Ninari. Rather than that accursed priestly hound should
creep into my chamber, I will die, or better still, he shall die who
knows not with whom he has to deal. Yes, here and now I pronounce his
doom."

Thus she spoke in slow, cold words that yet were full of fearful
menace, then suddenly went on in a soft, changed voice.

"Let us talk no more of this foul Ninari. Hearken! If you will play
the man I have plans that shall make of you a great king and give to
you one of earth's fairest and most loving women as a wife. But I, who
perhaps have said too much already, dare not speak them here. Always I
am watched, the very air seems to play the spy upon me, and even now I
feel----" and she shivered. "Moreover my women wait to tire me for
Pharaoh's farewell feast and I must be gone. Ramose, you have the key
of the door that leads to my chambers. In the first of them I sleep
quite alone, for I will have no one near me in my slumbers and the
guards and eunuchs are set far away beyond. Come to me at midnight and
I will tell you all. Will you come, knowing that if aught miscarries,
your life hangs in it?"

"My life," I answered sadly. "What is my life? Something of which I
think I should be well rid could I say good-bye to it with honour. I
have not been happy of late, Queen Atyra. Pharaoh laid a charge upon
me and, forgive me for saying it, it seems that always you have put
out your strength to cause me to break my trust. By Amen I have fought
my best, but alas! I am weak with love of you. When your eyes shine
upon me I grow dizzy and at your touch my purpose melts like wax in
the midday sun. What you command, that I must do and if death waits at
the end of your road, may Thoth, the Weigher of hearts, be merciful
and give me sleep that I may forget my shame."

She looked at me and there was pity in her eyes. Then the pity passed
and they burned with the light of passion.

"I grieve for you as I grieve for myself, whose danger is greater than
your own," she said. "Yet for me the choice lies between you and
madness. Know, Ramose, that without you I shall go mad, and ere I die
work woes at which the world will shudder. Think! is such a love as
mine a gift to be lightly cast away?"

"I will come, I have said it," I answered.

Then she rose and went.



Pharaoh's feast that night was very glorious and at it none was
merrier than the Queen Atyra. Indeed she was so beautiful in her royal
apparel that she drew all eyes to her and every man bent forward to
watch her and hear her words, yes, even Pharaoh's self. Yet to me it
seemed a feast of death and even the scented cup I bore to her wherein
she pledged her country's future fellowship with Egypt, smelt of the
tomb.

At length it was over. The dancers ended their dancing, the music
faded away. The lovely queen bent before Pharaoh and he kissed her
hand. She departed with her company. The lamps died out.



It was midnight. I unlocked the passage door; I crept to her chamber
like a thief, for now all my doubts were gone and I was aflame. Its
door was ajar. I entered, closing it behind me. In the chamber burned
a hanging lamp of which the flame wavered in the hot night-wind that
came through the open window-place. There upon a couch she lay clothed
all in white, a thing of beauty, her black locks flowing about her. I
went to her, I knelt down to kiss her lips, but she did not stir, she
said nothing. I touched her brow and lo! although her shape stayed
still, her head rolled towards me.

Then I saw that her neck was severed through and through. She was
dead!

I rose from my knees, smitten with a silent madness. From behind a
curtain appeared Ninari, a red sword in his hand.

"Young Count of Egypt," he said in a soft voice, "know that I heard
all your talk with this traitress, for I was hidden in the bushes
behind you in the garden. Now, that our queen might not be shamed, I
have executed the decree of my god upon her, and go to make report of
what has been done to the people over who she ruled. I bid you
farewell, Count Ramose, trusting that you who are young and were
sorely tempted, will have learned a lesson which cannot be forgotten."

My strength came back to me. I said no word. I sprang at him as a lion
springs. He struck; I caught his arm with such a grip that the sword
fell from his hand. I closed with him and in the might of my madness I
broke him like a stick. At least suddenly he sank together in my hands
and his head fell backwards.

Then I hurled him through the window-place. I took his sword and set
its hilt upon the pavement, purposing to fall upon it. Already I bent
over its point when it was struck away. I looked up. There by me,
white, wide-eyed, stood Belus.

"Come!" he said hoarsely, "come swiftly, for your life's sake!"



                              CHAPTER V

                         THE FLIGHT TO AMASIS

In the doorway of the chamber I glanced back. By the wavering light of
the lamp I saw the white shape of her who had been the Queen Atyra and
my love, lying still and dreadful on the couch, her head turned
strangely as though to watch me go. On the floor from beneath a rug
and a splendid garment which she had worn at the feast, crept the red
stream that told of murder, and near by it lay the sword of Ninari.
Some jewels glittered upon a stool and among them was a flower, one
which that afternoon I had given to her--yes, she had taken it from my
hand, kissed it and set it in her girdle. The moon shone through the
open window-place out of which I had hurled Ninari. Such was the
picture, a terrible picture that in every detail must haunt me till I
die.

I wished to turn back to recover that flower, but Belus thrust me
before him and closed the door. We passed down the passage to my
apartment. This door also Belus closed and locked. We stood face to
face in my chamber.

"What now?" I said drearily. "Give me one of those drugs of yours,
Belus, that which kills so swiftly, for all is done."

"Nay," he answered, "all is but begun. Be a man and hearken. The woman
is dead; by her lies the sword of Ninari. Who save I knows that you
entered her chamber? Ninari is dead also; he lies broken at the foot
of the palace wall for I saw you cast him from the window-place whence
it will be believed he flung himself after doing murder, since he is
untouched by knife or sword."

"I know, Belus, /I/ know; and my face will tell the tale or I shall go
mad and babble it."

He nodded his wise head.

"Perchance, Ramose. At least Pharaoh will kill you because she was in
your charge. Or, if he does not, those Syrians will, guessing the
truth. By this hand or by that, death awaits you here, sure death, and
with it shame."

"I seek to die," I answered.

"You cannot, for it is written otherwise. Have I not read it in your
stars? Listen. The General Amasis has departed to join the army that
goes to fight the Babylonians on the frontiers of Egypt. Pharaoh does
not trust this Amasis whom the soldiers love too well. He sends me to
be his counsellor and to spy upon him, and I depart within an hour for
the command is urgent. Disguised as my scribe you will accompany me.
Forseeing trouble already I have ordered all. To-morrow you will be
missed and perhaps it may be thought that some ill has befallen you.
Do not young men wander out at night and meet with adventures that
have been known to end evilly? Has not the Nile borne the bodies of
many such towards the sea? Or may not the Syrians have murdered you,
as they murdered the queen who was known to look on you so kindly? At
best there will be much talk and Pharaoh will be wrath, but as you
have vanished away the matter will be forgotten. If afterwards it is
learned that, seeking adventure, you went to join Amasis, you may be
forgiven--that is unless those Syrians know all and plotted this
murder. Answer not, but come, bringing your sword and what gold you
have."

A while later, it may have been one hour, or two, I forget, whose
memory of that night is dimmed by a fog of wretchedness, two figures
might have been seen leaving that part of the palace which was called
Dream House because there always dwelt the royal astrologer. They left
it by a small gate guarded by a single soldier who challenged them.
Belus gave some password; also he showed a ring and spoke in the
guard's ear.

"Right enough. All in order," said the man. "Belus the Babylonian and
a scribe we were commanded to pass. Well, here is Belus the Babylonian
whom we all know, for he tells our fortunes by the stars, and there's
the scribe in a dark cloak with a hood to it. A very fine young man,
too, for a scribe who generally are short and round-stomached, or
sometimes, quite small and very like a girl, for many are named
scribes who never served apprenticeship in a temple or a school.
Magician Belus, I fear that I cannot let this scribe pass until I have
called the officer to have a look at him--or her."

"What do you mean, man?" asked Belus coldly. "Is not Pharaoh's ring
enough?"

"Not to-night, Master. Although you may not have heard it, there is
trouble yonder in the palace. Something terrible has happened there.
Some great one has been murdered. Who it is I know not. Still word has
come that all gateways are to be watched and none allowed to pass
whose faces are covered or who are not known, even under Pharaoh's
seal. Therefore I pray you stay a minute until the officer and his
guard pass upon their round."

"As you will," said Belus, "and while we wait, friend, tell me, how is
that little daughter of yours whom I visited two days ago in her
fever?"

"Master," answered the man in another voice, a trembling voice, "she
hangs between life and death. When I left to come on guard at length
she had fallen asleep and the wise women said that either it is the
beginning of the sleep of death or she will wake free of the fever and
recover. Tell me, Master, you who are wise and can read the stars,
which she will do. For know, I love this child, my only one, and my
heart is racked."

With the staff he bore Belus made a drawing in the sand. Then he
looked up at certain stars and added dots to the drawing, which done,
he said,

"Events are strangely linked with one another in this world, my
friend, nor can we understand who or what it is that ties them thus
together. Who for instance would have dreamed that your daughter's
fate hangs upon whether I and this scribe of mine, whom perchance you
guessed rightly to be a woman, though a tall one such as are loved by
small men like myself, pass at once upon our business, or wait until
it pleases some officer to wander this way upon his rounds. If we
pass, the stars say that your daughter will live; if we wait, while we
are waiting she will die--yes, before the moonlight creeps to that
mark, she will die. But if my departing footstep stamps upon it, she
will live."

"Pass, Magician Belus, with the girl disguised as a scribe," said the
man, "for such I see now she is, though at first the moonlight
deceived me. Pass."

"Good night, friend," said Belus, "the blessing of the gods be upon
you, and upon that daughter of yours who will live to comfort your old
age."

Then with his foot he stamped out the pattern on the sand and we went
on.

"Will the child live?" I asked idly, for this sight of the grief of
another seemed to dull my own.

"Yes," answered Belus. "My medicines have worked well and that sleep
is a presage of her recovery. Surely she will live, but what will
happen to her father when it is learned that he has suffered some
veiled traveller to pass out, I do not know."

"Perchance he will keep silence upon that matter."

"Aye, but when the light comes our footprints on the sand will tell
their own tale, that is, unless a wind rises. Still by that time we
shall be far away. Run, Scribe, run. The horses and the escort, men
who are sworn to me, await us in yonder grove."



Eight days later we came to the camp of Amasis upon the borders of
Egypt. An officer led us to the tent of Amasis whom we found in jovial
mood, for he had dined and drunk well, as was his custom.

"Greeting, learned Belus," said Amasis. "Now tell me on what business
Pharaoh sends you?"

Belus drew out a roll, laid it to his forehead and handed it to
Amasis, saying,

"It is written here, General."

He undid the roll, glanced at it and cast it down.

"It is written in Greek," he exclaimed, "and I, an Egyptian, will not
read Greek. Repeat its contents. Nay, it is needless, for I have heard
them already by another messenger who has outstripped you, one of my
own captains whom Pharaoh did not send. The writing orders that I must
make report daily, or as often as may be, of all that passes in this
army, through you, Belus the Babylonian. Is it not so?"

"Yes," answered Belus calmly, "that is the sum of it."

"Which means," went on Amasis, "that you are sent here to spy upon me
and all that I do."

"Yes, General," replied Belus in the same quiet voice. "Pharaoh, as
you know, is jealous and fears you."

"Why, Belus?"

"Because the Egyptians love you, especially the soldiers, and do not
love Pharaoh who they think, favours the Greeks too much, and in all
but blood is himself a Greek."

"That I know. Is there no other reason?"

"Yes, General. As you may have heard, like other Babylonians I have
some skill in divination and in the casting of horoscopes. Pharaoh
caused me to cast his, and yours also, General."

"And what did they say, Belus?" asked Amasis leaning forward.

Belus dropped his voice and answered,

"They said that the star of Apries wanes, while that of Amasis grows
bright. They said that ere long where shone the star of Apries, will
shine the star of Amasis alone, though first for a time those two
stars will ride in the heavens side by side. That is what they said
though I told Apries another tale."

"Do you mean the throne?" asked Amasis in a whisper.

"Aye, the throne and a certain general wearing Pharaoh's crown."

For a while there was silence, then Amasis asked,

"Does Pharaoh send you to poison me, as doubtless you can do, you
strange and fateful Belus, who like a night-bird, have flitted from
Babylon to Egypt for your own dark and secret purpose?"

"Nay, and if he did, I, their servant, am not one to fight against the
stars. Fear nothing from me who am your friend, though there are
others whom you will do well to watch. Now, General, here in this camp
I am in your power. You can kill me if you will, but that would be
foolish, for I have not told you all the horoscope."

"Your meaning?"

"It is that if you kill me, as I think you had it in your mind to do
but now, me or another, that star of yours will never shine alone,
because my blood will call for yours. Am I safe with you and if I need
it, will you protect me when you grow great?"

"You are safe and I will protect you now and always. I swear it by
Amen and by Maat, Goddess of Truth. Yet, why do you turn from Pharaoh
who has sheltered you ever since you escaped from Babylon?--for I have
heard that you did escape on account of some crime."

"Because Pharaoh turns from me and presently will seek my life; indeed
I think that he seeks it already. For the rest, the crime of which you
have heard was not mine, but that of another--upon whom I wait to be
avenged in some far-off appointed hour," he added and as he spoke the
words, his face grew fierce and even terrible.

"Be plain, Belus, but tell me first, who is this with you who listens
to our most secret thoughts? How comes it that I never noted him?"

"Perchance because I willed that you should not, General, or perchance
because wine dims the eyes. But look on him, and answer your own
question."

As he spoke, very swiftly Belus bent forward and unclasped the long
cloak which I wore, revealing me clad as a soldier with an armoured
cap upon my head. Amasis stared at me.

"By the gods!" he said, "this is none other than Ramose, Pharaoh's
bastard and my pupil in arms whom I love well. Now what does this
young cock here? Is he another of Pharaoh's spies whom you have
brought to be your witness?"

"A poor spy, I think, General. Nay, like me he flies from Pharaoh's
wrath. There has been trouble in the palace. A certain Syrian queen
whom you will remember, for in truth she sent you here, has come to
her end--a swift and bloody end--as has her minister."

"I have heard as much, for rumour of the death of great ones flies
more swiftly than a dove, but what has that to do with Ramose? Did he
perchance stifle her with kisses, as I would have done at his age?"

"Nothing, nothing at all, General. But Ramose was her guardian and
chamberlain, and Pharaoh demands his life in payment for hers, so do
her Syrians, or will ere long. Therefore he seeks refuge under the
shield of Amasis, his captain."

"And shall have it, by the gods. Am I a man to give up one who has
served under me, over the matter of a woman, even to Pharaoh's self?
Not so, and yet I must remember that this youngster is Pharaoh's son
and half a Greek and has heard words that would set a noose about my
neck. Do you vouch for him, Belus?"

"Aye, Amasis. Listen. From boyhood this lad has been as one born to me
and I, who now am--childless--love him. He has been drawn into
trouble, and thereby, as I fear, embroiled Syria and Egypt. Therefore
his life is forfeit, as is mine who have befriended him and aided his
escape. Therefore, too, both of us have fled to you, and henceforward
swear ourselves to your service, looking to you to shield us. Tell us,
may we sleep in peace, or must we seek it elsewhere?"

"Yes, you may sleep easy, even from Pharaoh, for here in this camp I
am Pharaoh," answered Amasis proudly. "Have I not sworn it already and
am I a troth-breaker?" he added.

Scarce had the words passed his lips when from without came a sound of
sentries challenging, followed by a cry of "Pass on, Messenger of
Pharaoh." The tent opened and there appeared a travel-stained man clad
in Pharaoh's uniform, who bowed, handed a roll to Amasis and at a
sign, retired.

"Pharaoh sends me many letters," he said, as he cut the silk and undid
the roll. Then he read, looked up and laughed.

"Your guardian spirit must be good, Belus. At least you two were wise
to take that oath of me upon the instant. Hearken to what is written
here," and he read aloud,


 "Pharaoh to the General Amasis,

 "The Syrians who came hither with the Queen Atyra who is dead, as
  the price of the friendship of their nation to Egypt, demand the
  life of the Count Ramose who was her chamberlain, because he
  failed in his duty and did not keep her safe; also because as they
  allege he murdered one Ninari. If he has fled to your camp
  disguised as a scribe, as is reported, put him to death and send
  his head to Sais that it may be shown to them. With it send Belus
  the Babylonian, that the truth of all this matter may be wrung
  from him.

  "Sealed with the seals of Pharaoh and his Vizier."


"Now, Belus," went on Amasis, "tell me, you who are wise in counsel,
what shall I do? Obey Pharaoh or my oath?"

I listened like to one in a dream, but Belus answered quietly,

"Which you will, Amasis. Obey Pharaoh, cause this lad to be murdered
and send me to the torturers at Sais, and see your star set--as I
promised you. Obey your oath, and see that star shine out above all
storms, royally and alone. Yet, is it needful to urge Amasis to
honesty by revealing what Thoth has written concerning him in the Book
of Fate?"

"I think not," answered Amasis with his great laugh. "Do they not say
of me in Egypt that never yet did I break troth with friend or foe,
and shall I do so now? Young man, I see that you have scribe's tools
about you; therefore be seated and write these words:


 "From Amasis the General, to Pharaoh,

 "The letter of Pharaoh has been received. Know, O divine Pharaoh,
  that it is not the custom of Amasis to kill those who are serving
  under him in war, save for cowardice or other military offence. If
  the Syrians have aught against the Count Ramose, let them come
  hither and set out their case before me and my captains. For the
  rest, Belus the Babylonian, whom the good god Pharaoh sent hither
  to watch me, is too weary to travel. Moreover, I keep him at my
  side that I may watch him."


When I had finished writing, Amasis read the roll, sealed it and
summoning an officer, bade him to give it to the messenger to be
delivered to Pharaoh at Sais. When the officer had gone he thought a
while, and said in his open fashion,

"The quarrel between me and Pharaoh or rather between the Egyptians
and his friends the Greeks, has long been brewing. It is strange that
it should have boiled over upon the little matter of this young Count
and his love affairs, yet doubtless so it was decreed. Have no fear,
Ramose, Pharaoh is cowardly for otherwise he would not seek the life
of his own son for such a trifle from dread born of Syrian threats; a
tyrant also and when tyrants are taken by the beard, they grow afraid.
Yet my counsel to both of you is, to keep out of the reach of
Pharaoh's arm till this business is forgotten. If ever he speaks of it
to me again, I will tell him to his face that he should thank me who
have saved him from the crime of murdering his son, whose blood would
have brought the curse of the gods upon him. Now drink a cup of wine,
both of you, and let me hear this tale of the death of Atyra, if she
be dead in truth."

So I told it to him, keeping nothing back. When it was done, he said,

"I am glad that you threw that Syrian rat through the window-place,
sending him to settle his account with Atyra in the underworld. Grieve
not, young man. There are more women left upon the earth who will
teach you to forget your trouble, and for the rest this ill-fated lady
was one hard to be resisted. Now, go rest. To-morrow I will find you a
place in my bodyguard and we shall see whether you are luckier in war
than you have been in love."

Thus he spoke though in the after years, when he had ceased to be a
bluff general and had become a wily Pharaoh steeped in statecraft, he
forgot, or pretended to forget all this story and asserted that Atyra
had borne me a child before her death. But of this in its season.



That night ere I slept, for the first time I opened all my heart to
Belus, showing him how great was its bitterness and woe. Moreover I
told him that if I escaped the wrath of Pharaoh and the accidents of
war, I had sworn an oath before the gods to have no more to do with
women.

"I rejoice to hear it, Son," answered Belus, with his strange wise
smile, "and I pray that the memory of the gods of Egypt is not too
long. You say that you have done with women, but mayhap women have not
done with such a man as you, nor because one has brought you sorrow,
is it certain that another may not bring you joy. Now grieve no more
over what cannot be mended nor for her who is dead because of you, but
follow after Fortune with a brave heart, for such she loves. Only one
thing I hope of you, that you will suffer me, your master, to stay at
your side through bad weather and through good, until perhaps I am
drawn away to fulfil the purpose of my life."

Then without telling me what was that purpose, he kissed me on the
brow and I laid me down and slept.



                              CHAPTER VI

                           THE GIFT OF GOD

Next day the march began. I saw and knew all, for Amasis, a man of his
word in those days, appointed me to be an officer of his guard, also,
because I was a scholar, one of his private scribes. Further he kept
Belus in attendance on him, so that between us we learned all there
was to know. Thus I came to understand how great was the power of
Amasis, the beloved of the soldiers.

About him was none of the ceremonial of Pharaoh's court. His captains
were his fellows; also he drank, jested and bandied stories, some of
them coarse enough, with the common soldiers round their fires. A man
of the people himself, he talked to them of their fathers, yes, and
mothers too. He asked no great reverence from them, nor that any man
should bow to the dust when he passed by and to many a fault he was
blind. If one off duty drank too much, or broke camp to seek some girl
who had looked at him kindly, he said nothing; but if such a one did
these things when he was on duty, then let him beware, for he would be
flogged, or even hanged. No man was promoted for lip-service or
because his birth was high, but to those who were brave and loyal
every door was open. Therefore the army loved him, so much indeed that
he dared to defy Pharaoh in such a letter as he had written concerning
Belus and myself, and yet fear nothing.

Some thirty or forty thousand strong not counting the camp-followers,
we marched against the Babylonians, a great host of them under the
command of Merodach, said to be a son of Nebuchadnezzar, who awaited
us beyond the borders of Egypt. Or rather they did not await us for as
we came on, they retreated. Then we discovered that we were being led
into a trap, for Syrians by the ten thousand, were hanging on our
flank waiting to cut us off. Belus learned this from spies whom we had
taken, but who, it seemed, belonged to some secret brotherhood of
which he was a chief.

For although Belus was willing to fight against his own people, I
found that among them he still had many friends. This at the time I
could not understand, for not until many years had gone by did I come
to know that the Babylonians were divided among themselves, numbers of
them hating the kings who ruled over them and all their cruelties and
wars.

So Amasis separated his army. Half of it he left entrenched upon a
range of little hills that encircled an oasis where there was water in
plenty, beyond which hills the Babylonians had retreated, thinking to
draw us into the desert on their further side. The rest, among whom
were nearly all the horsemen and chariots, he sent to swoop down on
the Syrians. Making a long night march we caught them at the dawn just
as they were breaking camp. Until we fell upon them they did not know
that we were near. Therefore, although they outnumbered us by three to
one, our victory was great. Hemming them round in the gloom, we
attacked at daybreak and slew thousands of them before they could form
their ranks. Also we made prisoners of thousands more and took a great
booty of horses and camels.

This done we returned to the low hills in a fortunate moment, for
discovering that the half of our army was gone, at length the
Babylonians had determined to attack. Night was falling when we
reached the camp and therefore they did not see us advancing under
cover of the hills. Some of us, I among them, pushed on and made
report to Amasis of how it had gone between us and the Syrians, a tale
that pleased him greatly. Moreover, having heard me well spoken of by
those under whom I served for the part I played in that fray, he
promoted me to be captain of a company of which the officer had been
killed by an arrow. This company was part of what was called the
General's Legion, appointed to surround him in battle and to fight
under his own command. I knew it already, since from it was drawn his
bodyguard, of whom I had been one until I was sent out against the
Syrians.

Next morning at the dawn from the crest of our hills, far away upon
the plain and half hidden by clouds of dust, we saw the Babylonians
approaching, a mighty host of them. Indeed so countless were they and
so vast was their array, that at sight of it my heart sank for it
seemed as though for every man of ours they could count ten. While I
stood staring at them, suddenly I found Amasis himself at my side
wrapped in a common soldier's cloak.

"You are afraid, young man," he said. "Your face shows it. Well, I
think none the worse of you for that. Yet take courage, since it is
not numbers that make an army terrible, but discipline and the will to
conquer. Look now at this great host. As its standards show, it is
made up of many peoples all mixed together. See, it keeps no good
line, for its left wing is far advanced and its right straggles. Also
its centre, where is Merodach, the king's son, with his chosen guards,
is cumbered with many waggons and litters. In those waggons are not
food or water, but women, for these soft Babylonians soaked in luxury,
will not move without their women even in war, and they must be
protected. Therefore I say to you, and to all, be not afraid."

Then he departed to talk to others.

All that morning the Babylonian multitude came on slowly, till by noon
they were within a mile of us. During the heat of the day they rested
for some two hours or more, then once more they advanced, as we
thought to the attack. But it was not so, for when they had covered
another three furlongs again they halted as though bewildered, perhaps
because they could see so few of us, for the most of our army was
hidden behind the crest of a hill. At length officers rode forward,
five or six of them, carrying a white flag, and reined up almost at
the foot of the hills.

Amasis sent some forward to speak with them, among whom was Belus
whose tongue was their own, disguised as an Egyptian captain, a garb
that became him ill. They talked a long while. Then Belus and the
others returned and reported that the Prince and General, Merodach,
gave us leave to retire unmolested, also that he offered a great
present of gold to Amasis and his captains, if this were done. Then,
he said, he would retire to Babylon and make it known to the King
Nebuchadnezzar that he had gained a victory over the Egyptians, who
had fled at the sight of his army.

When Amasis heard this, he laughed. Nevertheless he sent back Belus
and the others to ask how much gold Babylon would pay as a tribute to
Pharaoh, and so it went on all the afternoon, till at length Amasis
knew that it was too late for the Babylonians to attack, for night
drew near. Then he sent a last message, demanding that the Babylonians
should surrender and give hostages; also the gold that they had
offered. This was the end of it.

Later Belus came and told me the meaning of this play. "Those
Babylonians have no water," he said, "save what they carry with them.
To-morrow they will be thirsty and drink all, leaving nothing for the
horses and the elephants, that they thought would drink at the springs
of the oasis to-night. Truly Amasis is a good general."

All that night we watched, thought with little fear for there was no
moon and we knew that in such darkness the Babylonians would not dare
to attack. Now I thought that Amasis would fall on them at the dawn,
as we had done on the Syrians. But he did not, who said that thirst
was the greatest of captains and he would leave him in command. Still
when he had seen that all our army was well fed and all our horses
were well watered, he sent out a body of cavalry, five thousand of
them perhaps, with orders to charge at the centre of the Babylonians
as they began to muster their array, and then suddenly to retire as
though seized with panic.

This was done. When they saw the horsemen coming the Babylonians
formed up with great shoutings, and the elephants were advanced. As if
frightened at the sight of these elephants, our men wheeled about and
fled back towards the hills, though not too fast. Now happened that
which Amasis had hoped.

The enemy broke his ranks and pursued the Egyptians. Elephants,
chariots and clouds of horse pursued them all mingled together, while
after them came the bulk of the host. The word went down our lines to
stand firm behind the crest of the hill. We opened and let our
horsemen through, to re-form behind us, which they did, having scarce
lost a man. Then we closed again and waited.

The hordes were upon us; chariots, horse and elephants toiled up the
sandy slopes of the hills, slipping back one step for every two
forward. At a signal our bowmen rose and loosed their arrows, cloud
after cloud of arrows. Soon the heads and trunks of the elephants were
full of them. Maddened with pain the great brutes turned and rushed
down the hill, crushing all they met. The horses also, those of them
that were not killed, did likewise, while the sand was strewn with
dead or wounded men. The charge turned to a rout and few that took
part in it reached the great army unharmed. Still, so vast was it that
those who had fallen with their beasts were but a tithe of its
numbers, though now few of the elephants were fit for service and the
chariots and the horsemen had suffered much.

At this repulse rage seized the Babylonians or their generals.
Trumpets blew, banners waved, words of command were shouted. Then
suddenly the whole host, countless thousands of them whose front
stretched over a league of land, began their advance against our
little line of hills that measured scarcely more than four furlongs
from end to end.

Amasis saw their plan, which was to encircle and closing in from
behind, to overwhelm us with the weight of their number. He divided
our horse into two bodies and weary as they still were from their
journey against the Syrians, commanded them to charge round the ends
of the hills and to cut through those wings, leaving the breast of the
great host like a bull with severed horns. This they did well enough,
charging forward, and back again through and through those
Babylonians, or their allies, till between the horns and the head
there were great gaps; after which they changed their tactics and
charged at the tips of the horns, crumpling them up, till from ordered
companies they became a mob.

Meanwhile the breast advanced, leaving a reserve to guard the waggons
and the stores and the plain below.

Wave upon wave of the picked troops of Babylon, they dashed up at us,
like breakers against a reef, and the real fight began.

We raked them with our arrows, killing hundreds, but always more
poured on, till they came to the crest of the hills and met the
Egyptians sword to sword and spear to spear.



I had no part in that fight who stood behind in reserve, with the
General's Legion that guarded Amasis and Egypt's banners. Yet I saw it
all and noted that many of those who attacked, were wasted with
thirst, for their mouths were open and their tongues hung out, while
the hot sun beat down upon their helms and armour.

Amasis saw it also, for I heard him say, "I thank the gods that they
have given me no Babylonian prince to be the captain of my life. Now,
on them, Egyptians!"

We rose, we charged, we drove them before us in a tumbled mass, down
those blood-stained slopes we drove them; yes, there they died by the
hundred and the thousand. At the foot of the hill we re-formed, for
many of us had been killed or wounded in the great fray. Then we
charged at the heart of the Babylonian host where flew the banners of
their general, the Prince Merodach, a dense array of fifteen or twenty
thousand of the best of their troops, set to guard the general, the
women and the baggage. We fell on them like a flood, but were rolled
back from their triple line as a flood is from a wall of rock. We hung
doubtful whose force after all was small, when suddenly at the head of
about a thousand of his guards, whom he had kept in reserve, Amasis
himself charged past us. We, the rest of that legion, would not be
left behind. Leaving our dead and wounded we charged with him. How it
happened I do not know, but we broke the triple line, we went into it
as a wedge goes into wood, and it split in two.

Suddenly I saw the inmost body of horsemen that surrounded the
Babylonian standards, wheel about and gallop off. A soldier cried into
my ear,

"Merodach flies! Yes, he flies. Babylon is beaten!"

So it was indeed, for when the host saw that their general had
deserted them with his guard of chariots and horsemen, the heart went
out of them. No longer were they battalions of brave men, nay, they
became but as sheep driven by wolves or dogs. They packed together,
they fled this way and that, trampling one upon the other. They fought
no more, they flung down their arms, each man seeking to save his own
life. The Egyptians slew and slew until they were weary. Then the
trumpets called them back, save the horsemen that for a while followed
the wings of the army which, seeing what had happened, abandoned hope
and joined in the rout.

What happened to that host? I do not know. Thousands of them died, but
thousands more wandered off into the desert seeking safety and water,
but above all water at the wells in their rear. I can see them now, a
motley crowd, elephants, camels, chariots, horse and footmen, all
mingled together, till at length they vanished in the distance, except
those who fell by the way. Doubtless many of them reached Babylon and
told their tale of disaster into the ears of Nebuchadnezzar the Great
King. But he was aged and it was said distraught, almost on his
deathbed indeed, and had heard many such before. Always his hosts
gathered from the myriads of the East, were going forth to battle.
Sometimes they conquered, sometimes they were defeated. It mattered
little, seeing that there were always more myriads out of which new
hosts could be formed. In Babylon and Assyria and the lands around
life was plentiful and cheap, for there men bred like flies in the mud
and sun, and wealth was great, and when the king commanded they must
go out to die.

The victory was won! Now came its fruits, the hour of plunder was at
hand. There were the great parks of waggons filled with stores and
women; there were the pavilions of the royal prince, the generals and
the officers. Amasis himself, riding down our lines his helmet in his
hand, laughing as ever, shouted to us to go and take, but to be
careful to keep him his share.

We rushed forward without rank or order, for now there was nothing to
fear. All the enemy were fled save those who lay dead or wounded,
swart, black-bearded men. I, being young and swift of foot, outran my
fellows. We came to the pavilion of the prince over which the banners
of Babylon hung limply in the still air. The soldiers swarmed into it
seeking treasure, but I who cared nothing for golden cups or jewels,
ran round to another pavilion in its rear which I guessed would be
that of the women. Why I did this I was not sure, for I wanted women
even less than the other spoil; but I think it must have been because
I was curious and desired to see what these ladies were like and how
they were housed.

Thus it came about that I entered this place alone and letting fall
the flap of the tent, which was magnificent and lined with silk and
embroideries, stared round me till my eyes grew accustomed to the
shadowed light and I saw that it was empty. No, not empty, for at its
end, seated on a couch was a glittering figure, clad it seemed in
silver mail, and beside it something over which a veil was thrown.
Thinking that this was a man, I drew my sword which I had sheathed,
and advanced cautiously.

Now I was near and the figure of which the head was bowed, looked up
and stared at me. Then I saw that the face beneath the silver helm was
that of a woman, a very beautiful woman, with features such as the
Greeks cut upon their gems, and large dark eyes. I gazed at her and
she gazed at me. Then she spoke, first in a tongue which I did not
understand, and when I shook my head, in Greek.

"Egyptian, if so you be," she said, "seek elsewhere after the others
who are fled. I am no prize for you."

She threw aside a broidered cape that hung over her mail, and I saw
that piercing the mail was an Egyptian arrow of which the feathered
shaft was broken off, also that blood ran to her knees, staining the
armour.

I muttered words of pity, saying that I would bring a physician, for
suddenly I bethought me of Belus.

"It is useless," she said, "the hurt is mortal; already I die."

Not knowing what to do, I made as though to leave her, then stood
still, and all the while she watched me.

"You are young and have a kindly face," said she, "high born too, or
so I judge. Look," and with a swift motion she cast off the veil from
that which rested against her.

Behold! it was a child of three or four years of age, a lovely child,
beautifully attired.

"My daughter, my only one," she said. "Save her, O Egyptian Captain."

I stepped forward and bent down to look at the child. At this moment
some soldiers burst into the tent and saw us. Wheeling round I
perceived that they were men of my own company.

"Begone!" I cried, whereon one of them called out,

"Why, it is our young captain, the Count Ramose, who woos a captive.
Away, comrades, she is his, not ours, by the laws of war. Away! and
tell the rest to seek elsewhere."

Then laughing in their coarse soldier fashion, they departed and
presently I heard them shouting that this tent must be left alone.

"Save her, Count Ramose, if such be your name," repeated the woman.
"Hearken. She is no mean child, for I am a daughter of him who once
was King of Israel. Now at the last I grow clear-sighted and a voice
tells me to trust you whom my God has sent to me to be my friend.
Swear to me by him you worship that you will guard this child, yours
by spoil of war; that you will not sell her on the market, that you
will keep her safe and clean, and when she comes to womanhood, suffer
her to wed where she will. Swear this and I, Mysia, of the royal House
of Israel, will call down the blessing of Jehovah on you and yours and
all your work, as should you fail me, I will call down His curse."

"A great oath," I exclaimed hesitating, "to be taken by one who is no
oath breaker."

"Aye, great, great! Yet, hearken. She is not dowerless."

She glanced about her wildly to make sure that we were alone, then
from her side, or perhaps from some hiding-place in the couch, she
drew a broidered bag, and thrust it into my hands.

"Hide it," she said. "These royal jewels are her heritage; among them
are pearls without price."

I thrust the bag into the pouch I carried, throwing from it the water
bottle and the food which it had contained. Then I answered,

"I swear; yet, believe me, Lady, not for the gems' sake."

"I know it, Count Ramose, for such eyes as yours were never given to a
robber of the helpless."

Then, as I knew by the motion of her hands, she blessed me in a
strange tongue, Hebrew I suppose, and blessed her daughter also.

"Take her," she said presently in Greek, "for I die."

She bent down and kissed the child, then tried to lift her but could
not, being too weak to bear her weight. I took her in my arms, asking,

"How is she named and who was her father?"

"Myra is her name," she gasped in a faint voice. Then her eyes closed,
she fell sideways on the couch, groaned and presently was dead.

Lifting the veil with which it had been covered when first I entered
the tent, I threw it over the child which seemed to be drugged, or
mayhap had swooned with fear, cast one last glance at the pale beauty
of her dead mother, who looked indeed as though she sprang from the
blood of kings, and departed from that tent which presently the
soldiers plundered and burned.

Here I will say that of this lady's history I heard no more for many
years. She declared herself to be a daughter of a king of Jerusalem,
and I half believed the story thinking that at the moment of death she
would not lie to me. Certainly such a captive when she grew to
womanhood might well have been taken by a king's son as one of his
household. Also the jewels which the lady Mysia gave to me, were
splendid and priceless, such as kings might own, being for the most
part necklaces of great pearls. Among these also was an emerald
cylinder on which were graven signs and writing that I could not read,
a talisman of power as I learned afterwards. But of this in its place.



Departing from the tent and skirting the great pavilion of Merodach, I
passed through groups of soldiers, counting or quarrelling over their
spoils. As night fell, I climbed the slopes of the little hills that
were thick with dead, for by now after the cruel fashion of war, all
the enemy's wounded had been slain. At length I came to the tent which
I shared with Belus, laughed at on the way by one or two because of
the great bundle of spoil which I carried in my arms.

Here I found that philosopher, who had put off the armour which became
him so ill, clad in his own garments and engaged in eating a simple
meal of bread and sun-dried fruits. When he had greeted me, which he
did heartily rejoicing to see me come safe from the battle, for the
first time in the dusk of the tent he noted the bundle in my arms.

"It is strange how the wisest of us may be deceived. I have watched
you from boyhood and thought that I knew your mind, Ramose. Indeed I
would have sworn that whatever your faults, you were one who cared
little for spoil. Yet I see that you have been plundering like the
commonest."

"Aye, Belus, I have been plundering and found a rich treasure, yet I
think one of which no one will wish to rob me. Lift the veil and
look."

He did so, while I turned to the door of the tent so that the last of
the daylight fell upon me and my burden. Belus stared at the child who
still slept or swooned. Then he stared at me, saying,

"Now I wonder what god is at work in this business, and to what end."

"The god of mercy, I think, if there be such a one which I find it
hard to believe just now," I answered. Then I told him all the story.

"There are certain oaths that may be broken and yet leave the soul of
him who swore them but little stained, and there are others of which
even the stretching calls down Heaven's vengeance. Such a one, Ramose,
is that which you took before the dying mother of this child, who by
now doubtless has registered it in the Recorder's book beyond the
earth. Henceforth for good or evil, she is your charge."

"I know it, Belus."

"Yet what is to be done?" he went on. "How can you remain a soldier
who have a babe tied to your girdle?"

"I do not wish to remain a soldier, who have seen enough of slaughter,
Belus."

"If you marry, your wife will look askance at this little maiden and
perchance maltreat her, Ramose; for what woman would believe a tale 
of a babe found upon the battlefield?"

"I do not wish to marry, Belus. Have I not told you that I have done
with women?"

"Yes, but----" Here a thought seemed to strike him for he grew silent
and at that moment the child awoke and began to wail.

We quieted her as best we could and fed her with bread soaked in the
milk of goats, or camels, I forget which, for of all these Belus had a
store in the tent, till at last she fell asleep in my arms. Then I
laid her on my bed and gave Belus the jewels. These he hid away among
his charms and medicines where none would dare to search for them lest
some spell should be loosed upon them. For all the Egyptians held
Belus to be a great magician.

"They are the child's and holy," he said, "and therefore we need give
no account of them to the tellers of the spoil."

To which I answered that this was so, and turned to gaze upon the gift
that God had sent to me. As I gazed a great love of that sweet child
entered my heart where it still lives to-day.



                             CHAPTER VII

                    RAMOSE SEEKS REFUGE IN CYPRUS

When I woke on the following morning the sun was up and save for the
child Myra, I found myself alone in the tent. She was seated by me
upon the rugs which, spread upon the sand, made my soldier's couch,
looking at me with her large, dark eyes. When she saw that I was
awake, she asked for her mother, speaking in the Babylonian tongue of
which I knew much even in those days, having learned it from Belus. I
told her that her mother had gone away, leaving me to watch her, and I
think she understood for she began to weep. Then I took her in my arms
and kissed her, till presently she ceased weeping and kissed me back,
at which my heart went out to her who was an orphan in the power of
strangers.

Presently Belus returned, bringing with him a woman called Metep, the
widow of a soldier who had been killed by a fall from his horse at the
beginning of our march. This Metep was the daughter of a peasant of
the Delta, not well-favoured but kind-hearted, one, too, who had loved
her husband and would have naught to do with the trollops of the camp,
where she must stay earning her living as she could do till the army
returned to Egypt. As it chanced she, who counted some thirty years,
was childless; yet she loved children, as those often do who have
none. Therefore we hired her to be the nurse of little Myra whom she
tended well and watched as though she were her own, preparing her food
and making her garments of stuffs that came from the spoils of the
Babylonian camp.

Belus told me that he had visited this camp at the break of day,
hoping to learn something of the lady Mysia, who while she was dying,
had told me that she was the daughter of a Jewish king. In this he
failed, for drunken soldiers had fired the tent after plundering it
and though he saw a body lying among the ashes, it was so charred that
he could not tell whether it were that of man or woman, also it wore
no armour such as I had seen, of which perhaps it had been stripped by
some marauder who, if it was silver, broke it up for melting.

Also both then and afterwards he questioned certain prisoners, but
could learn nothing of this lady Mysia, who perhaps among the
Babylonians went by some other name. Merodach, they said, had women in
his train as had other princes and lords, but who these were they did
not know, for after the Eastern fashion they were kept apart and when
the host marched, travelled on camels in covered panniers, or
sometimes in closed litters. But now death had taken those who led the
beasts or bore the litters, and with them the most of the lords who
owned the women, the slaughter having been very great. Therefore none
was left to tell their tale, even if it were known.

So the beauteous lady Mysia and her history were lost in the darkness
of the past, which even the eyes of Belus the diviner could not
pierce.



Amasis summoned the army and made an oration. He praised it. He showed
that its victory had been very marked over a mighty host that
outnumbered it many times; that it had been won by discipline and
courage, (of his own skill in generalship he said nothing) and this
without the aid of Greeks, (here the thousands of his hearers shouted
in their joy) those Greeks whom Pharaoh leant upon and thought
necessary in war, holding as he did that they outpassed the Egyptians
in all qualities that make a soldier.

When he had given time for these cunning words of his to sink into the
hearts of his hearers, where as he guessed, they would bear fruit in
the future among Egyptians who hated and were jealous of the Greeks
that Pharaoh favoured, Amasis spoke of other matters.

He said that after taking thought and counsel with his captains, he
had determined not to follow the Babylonians into their own country.

"That host," he declared, "is utterly destroyed. Few of them will live
to behold the walls of the Great City, for thirst and the desert men
will cut off many of those who escaped the battle. But the King of
Babylon has other armies to fight us who are few and war-worn after
two victories, and whose horses are wearied with heat and work.
Lastly, friends, I have no command from Pharaoh, the good god our
master, to pursue the Babylonians across the deserts but only that I
should beat them back from the borders of Egypt and because of your
valour this has been done. Now, therefore, with your leave, we will
return to Sais and make our report to Pharaoh."

Once more the army shouted applause, for nothing did they desire less
than to march into the burning waterless deserts, there to fight new
battles against the countless hosts of Babylon, they who wished to
return to their wives and children, having earned the plots of watered
land that Pharaoh promised to his victorious soldiers.

This matter finished Amasis spoke of that of the booty which was very
great, for the Babylonian camp had been full of riches, also thousands
of horses and beasts of burden had been captured during and after the
battle. This spoil he commanded all men to bring in, that his officers
might divide it among them according to their rank. Next morning this
was done, though not without many quarrels, for all who had captured
anything, wished to keep it for themselves. Amongst others I appeared
carrying the child, Myra, in whose garments were hidden the jewels
that her mother had given to me. This I did, because the punishment of
those who withheld anything, was death, also because I felt that my
honour was at stake although this wealth was not mine, but the
child's.

When I appeared before the officers bearing Myra in my arms, a great
laugh went up. One cried out, "How shall this plunder be divided?"
Another answered, "Let the little one be taken and sold in the slave-
market." To which a third replied, "Who then will carry her to Sais?"

But the officer who acted as judge, behind whom stood Amasis watching
all, asked of me,

"Do you demand this child as your share of the loot, Count Ramose?"

"Yes," I answered. "I saved her from the battlefield and I demand her
and all that she wears upon her body."

"Strip her!" cried one. "Her shift may be of gold."

The officer hesitated, but Amasis said,

"By the gods, are we babe-searchers? If the Captain Ramose wishes for
a child who he says that he has found upon the battlefield, let him
take her and welcome, with all that is on her. Who knows? Perhaps he
found her before he left Egypt!" he added laughing, as did the others.
So that danger passed with a soldier's jest, and bowing, I went on.

On the second day from this of the dividing of the spoil, our return
march began. The army being heavy laden and weary and having nothing
more to fear, travelled slowly and in no close array. One of the
reasons why Amasis was so beloved of the soldiers that afterwards they
made him Pharaoh, was that he never oppressed them or forced them to
hard tasks that were not needed, such as the fortifying of camps in an
empty land. Hence each man went much as he would though none was
allowed to straggle or to leave the host, and I was able to keep the
child Myra close to me and often riding on my horse. Thus it happened
that from the first she grew to love me and if we were separated for
long, would weep and refuse her food.

So at last we came to Pelusium where to reach Sais the army must cross
the mouths of the Nile. Here Amasis sent for me and Belus.

"I have bad news for you," he said. "Apries your father is in an evil
mood; even our great victory over the Babylonians does not rejoice him
overmuch; almost might one think that he would have been better
pleased had we been driven back, perhaps because he thinks that a
certain general is more talked of in Egypt to-day, than is Pharaoh's
self. Nor is this all. As he can find fault with little else he is
angry because I did not obey his order to send to him your head,
Ramose, and with it Belus still carrying his upon his shoulders; for
his spies have told him that you are with the army and have been
promoted by me in reward of your deeds. Again he bids me fulfil his
commands, saying that the Syrians have given him much trouble
concerning you and demand your life continually."

Now I looked at him in question, but Belus asked outright,

"Is such your purpose, General?"

"I do not know," he answered. "A man must think of himself sometimes
and I cannot always be troubled by Pharaoh about a young Count and a
certain physician and diviner. Such a matter would be a small cause
over which to quarrel with Pharaoh, though it well may be that we
shall quarrel ere all is done, as I think you read in your stars,
Belus. Hearken. This war is finished and your service is over. There
are many boats sailing down the Nile, some of them large ships bound
for Cyprus and elsewhere, taking with them soldiers whose service is
ended or who have been wounded and seek their homes; also merchants.
Now here I set few guards and if to-morrow when I make public search
for the Count Ramose and Belus the Babylonian, that I may deliver them
to Pharaoh, they cannot be found, am I to blame? I have spoken."

"And we have heard," answered Belus.

Then Amasis shook us by the hand in his friendly fashion and thanked
me for my small share in the war, saying that he had watched me and
that I might make a good general one day, if I gave my mind to arms
and ceased from dreaming like a lovesick girl. "Or," he added with
meaning, "perhaps something higher than a general, you who have old
blood in you."

To Belus also he said that time alone would show whether he were a
true diviner, but that certainly he was the best of physicians, as
many a sick and wounded man in the army knew that day. Nor was this
all. As we were leaving the chamber, for we spoke together in a house,
Amasis called me back and thrust into my hand a bag, saying that it
was my share of the spoil which I might find useful in my wanderings,
which bag I found afterwards was filled with Babylonian gold. The
sight of that gold, I remember, made me feel ashamed when I thought of
the priceless pearls that had been hidden from him, till I recalled
that these were not mine, but little Myra's inheritance.

Thus I bade farewell to the great captain Amasis whom I was to see no
more for years. Indeed I bade farewell for ever to the Amasis I knew,
for when we met again and he had exchanged a general's staff for
Pharaoh's sceptre, in many ways he was a very different man.



Next morning at the dawn a merchant and his assistant, for as such we
were disguised, with their servant, a peasant woman and her child,
having hired passages, sailed amidst a motley crowd upon a ship bound
for certain ports along the coast and afterwards for the isle of
Cyprus. To Cyprus in the end we came in safety and as I think, unknown
of any, for all were intent upon their own affairs, moreover the sea
being rough, in no mood for watching others. Also the most of them
left the ship at the coast ports.

Reaching Salamis, the greatest and most beautiful city of Cyprus, we
hired a lodging there in a humble street, giving out that we were
strangers who had escaped from Tyre which was beleaguered by the
Babylonians, and taking new names.

Here at Salamis we dwelt for many years, Belus, whom I called my
uncle, the brother of my mother, practising as a physician, also in
secret as a diviner, under the name of Azar, and I as a merchant who
dealt in corn and copper and was known as Ptahmes. Nor did we labour
in vain, for although we made no show during those years we grew rich.

The mean street in which we dwelt, one running down towards the sea at
a point where the ships anchored, once had been a great thoroughfare
inhabited by rich merchants. Now these had deserted it for other
quarters where the high-born dwelt around the palace of their
chieftain who was called King of Salamis, for in Cyprus there were
many kings who, at this time, owned the Pharaoh of Egypt as their
over-lord. Yet their stone and marble palaces remained, turned to
seamen's lodges, marts where every kind of merchandize was sold to
mariners, thieves' quarters, or even brothels.

The house to which we had come by chance, had been perhaps the
greatest of these palaces. Built of white stone or marble, it
contained many fine chambers surrounding a courtyard, and behind it
was a large garden with a fountain fed from a spring, where grew some
fig trees and an ancient olive, but for the rest covered with nettles
and rank growth. This house, or rather palace, wherein at first we had
hired but a few rooms, by degrees we bought for no great price, so
that at length it was all our own. Leaving the front unkempt and dirty
as of old, also those spaces and the portico where I bought and sold,
thus to deceive curious eyes, and with them an outer lodge that once
had been a shrine dedicated to the worship of some Cyprian god, in
which Belus dispensed medicine or, in a back chamber, made
divinations, I set myself to repair the rest of that great building.

By degrees with thought and care, by help of skilled artists of Cyprus
and of Greece, I made it beautiful as it had been in the day of its
splendour when it was the home of merchant princes. I scraped its
marble halls and columns, I mended the broken statues that stood
around them, or procured others of a like sort and perhaps by the same
sculptors, to stand upon their pedestals; I dug the dirt from the
mosaics on the floor and hired good workmen to relay what was lacking;
to clean out the marble baths that had been filled with rubbish and
set the furnaces in order; to repaint the walls whence the frescoes
had faded, and I know not what besides. Lastly I restored all the
great garden that had become a refuse heap, rebuilding the high wall
about it, making paths and flower-beds and setting a summer-house
under the ancient fig and olive trees that happily none had troubled
to cut down.

Thus it came about that, although no one would have so believed who
looked at it from the dirty street where drunkards roamed at night,
slatterns screamed and fought and children played or begged of the
passer-by, within the discoloured front like to that of the temple of
some forgotten god, lay a mansion well-ordered, white and beautiful,
filled with willing servants sworn to us under the oaths of some order
of which Belus was a chief; a home worthy to be inhabited by the great
ones of the earth.

Why did I do all these things and why did Belus help in the work? For
sundry reasons. First because then as now I loved all that is
beautiful, all that lights the soul through the windows of the eyes;
and secondly because I, who was a scholar when I ceased to be a
merchant, needed calm and quiet and fit places in which to store my
manuscripts, where I could study them in peace. Yet behind all this
lay a deeper reason. I was a celibate, one who because of a terror
that had struck me in my boyhood, had forsworn woman and determined to
fill her place with philosophy and learning, also with the study of
religion and of the nature of the gods and of men, and of how these
may draw near to the Divine.

The arts of magic and divination, however, I left alone, having always
held these to be unlawful, though Belus who practised them after the
fashion of the Babylonians, the great masters of star-lore and of
sorcery, thought otherwise. Yet when we reasoned about the matter, he
confessed to me that these were two-edged weapons which often cut
those who wielded them, also that the answers which spirits gave, for
the most part might be read in more ways than one. Still at times he
was a good prophet. For example when he foresaw that trouble would be
brought upon me by the beauteous queen Atyra, and that the general
Amasis would rise to Pharaoh's throne which then no one else so much
as guessed, except perhaps Amasis himself, in whose mind Belus may
have read it.

For the rest, these gifts of Belus were of great service to us,
inasmuch as they brought us into the councils of the highest in the
land, for these of Cyprus were very superstitious and would pay great
sums for oracles and horoscopes, protecting those who furnished them
from all harm, since such foreseeing men were looked upon as prophets
favoured of Heaven.

Thus drawing gain from all these sources, trade, medicine, and
divination, living under our false names, we grew both wealthy and
powerful, though with politics and plottings we would have naught to
do, and outwardly remained humble and of no account.

To tell all the truth, there was a further reason why I made that old
palace which to the passer-by seemed a mere relic of past greatness,
so beautiful within, filling it with everything that was perfect and
lovely. Myra was that reason. From the beginning, as I have said, this
child loved me as a father, aye, and more, seeing that even in early
youth a maid will favour other men besides her own father, because
Nature so teaches her. With Myra it was otherwise. She clung to me
alone, though Belus she liked well enough, also she loved her nurse,
Metep, in a fashion. And as she loved me, so I loved her; indeed she
was my all, the eyes of my head and the heart within my breast. Had
she died, swept off of some sickness, of which there were many in
Cyprus especially in the hot season, I think that I should have died
also, or perhaps have slain myself that I might follow her to the
Shades.

Therefore my desire was that those sweet innocent eyes of hers should
never look save upon what was gracious and uplifting, and that on the
tablets of her mind should be written nothing that was not pure and
holy. I was her tutor also; in the mornings and after my trafficking
was done in the evening, we studied together, reading the Grecian
poets when she was old enough, or sometimes the hieroglyphics of
Egypt, of which I expounded the hidden lore.

Belus took a hand in this game also, teaching her the wisdom of
Babylon, its writing and its tongue; showing her the motions of the
stars and how the world moved among them; telling her, too, the
history of Israel and other nations, and instructing her in figures.
So this child grew learned beyond her years, for her mind was quick
and bright, though at times she had her thoughtful moods. In body she
grew also, tall and straight and very fair to see, dark-eyed yet with
hair the brown colour of ripe corn which told, perhaps, of the inter-
mingling of her Hebrew blood with some more western stock. Thus at
last in that hot land, she came near to womanhood and her mind growing
ever, ripened till, although more wayward, it was the equal of my own
and in certain ways its master.

One day Belus came upon us seated side by side studying an old
manuscript with the lamplight shining on our faces, and stood
contemplating us with that strange, secret smile of his playing round
his withered lips. Our work done Myra rose and went upon a household
errand. When she was gone Belus said,

"You two make a handsome pair and look so much of an age, that some
might think that you were not father and daughter, as it is given out
you are."

"Nor are we," I answered with a start, "at least in blood."

Then I was silent, for the thought troubled me.

"Has not the time come," went on Belus, "when this maiden should be
told how she fell into your keeping?"

"Perhaps," I answered. "Do you tell her, Belus, for I cannot."

Tell her he did, in what words or when I do not know. At least on the
following evening at the hour when we were wont to work, Myra came and
sat opposite to me, her chin resting on her hand, looking at me with
her large eyes from which I think tears had flowed, for her face was
troubled.

"So, Father," she said at length, "you are not my father. I am no
one's child and all that Metep has said to me about my mother who died
when I was born is false."

"Has Belus been speaking with you, Myra?"

"Yes. He has told me all, saying you thought I ought to know, now when
I am no more a little girl. I wish he had been silent," she added
passionately.

"Why, Myra?"

"Because if I am not your daughter you will cease to love me, while I
cannot cease to love you."

"Certainly I shall never cease to love you while I live, Myra, nor
after perhaps."

Her face brightened.

"Then all is not black as I feared, for if you ceased to love me--oh!
what shall I call you?"

"Ramose, when we are alone, but Father as of old before others."

"--if you ceased to love me--Ramose--I think that I should die. So it
is and so it will ever be."

Now I grew frightened, although my heart leapt with joy at those sweet
words.

"Perchance a day may come, Myra, when you will learn to love someone
better than you do me."

"Never!" she answered fiercely--"Never!" and she struck the table with
her little hand. "I know what you mean. Do we not read of marriage in
books and was not Metep once married? Do not say that you wish me to
marry, for I will never marry. I hate all men, save you and Belus."

"They will not hate you, I fear."

"What does it matter what they do? I have seen them; it is enough.
Tell me quickly that you do not wish me to marry."

"No, no, Myra, I wish that we should go on as we are--always."

"Ah! I am glad. That makes me happy."

Here a new and dreadful thought struck her, for she added with a gasp,

"But you might marry, you whom all must love; and that I could not
bear."

"Be silent, foolish one," I broke in. "I shall never marry. On that
matter I have sworn an oath."

"Oh! that is good tidings. Yet," she added slowly, "Belus says that it
is not wise to swear oaths when we are young, since we seldom keep
them when we are old."

"Let Belus be and by the gods I pray you to talk no more of marriage,
for the word does not please me, nor as yet is it fitting for your
lips. Come, Myra, we waste time. Let us to the deciphering of this old
poem that tells us of dead days and beautiful forgotten folk."

"I come, Ramose. Yet first I would say that I do remember something of
the past of which Belus spoke. The shape of a tall and lovely lady
with dark hair and eyes often haunts my sleep. Was my mother thus and
did she ride among hosts of men clad in silver?"

"I saw her but once, Myra, and then for a very little while in an hour
of death and tumult, but so she seemed to me. Perhaps now at times she
visits you from the underworld to watch and bless you. Dream on of
her, Myra, and for the rest let it lie. The gods have sent you here to
rejoice the world, how they sent you is of no account. Take what the
gods give you and be thankful."

"I am thankful," she said humbly and yet with pride, "for whatever
they have taken away, have they not given me you who saved me from
death and are not ashamed to love a poor maid who is no one's child."

Then we began our reading of the Grecian poet, nor did we talk again
of this matter for a long while. Yet from that day life was a little
different for both of us, and became more so as Myra grew to full and
fairest womanhood. She was innocent if ever a maiden was, yet Nature
taught her certain things, as perchance did her nurse Metep, pitying
her motherless state. Therefore no longer would she throw her arm
about me as we worked, or press her cheek against my own. But from
that day also in some subtle fashion we became more intimate, though
this new intimacy was one of the spirit. Our thoughts leapt together
towards an unknown end. Soon Myra discovered that I sought for more
than learning; that I sought after Truth, or rather after God who is
Truth, and could not find him. Here it was that she came to my aid,
perhaps because of the blood that was in her, that of the Hebrews.

For months we had been studying the gods of sundry nations, those of
the Egyptians, those of the Greeks, those of the Babylonians, and
others, a search in which Belus helped us much, for though I think he
believed in none of them, he knew the attributes of all and their
forms of worship.

At last the task was done. There written on a roll were all the gods
and goddesses that we could count, and against each name its qualities
and powers, as its worshippers conceived these to be. It was a great
list that caused the mind to reel. Myra gazed at it, winding up upon a
rod the roll which she had written in her neat letters, so that god
after god departed into darkness as though Time had taken them from
the eyes of men.

"What of all these?" I asked wearily at length.

She made no answer but taking me by the hand, led me to a window-place
whence she drew the curtain. The night was very fine and clear and the
blue of the great sky was spangled with a thousand thousand stars.

"You see those stars?" she said. "Well, Belus, who is a great
astronomer as the Babylonians have been from the beginning, tells me
that everyone of them is a world, or perhaps a sun like our own, with
worlds about it. Now, Ramose, you wise philosopher, tell me. Do all
those worlds worship our multitude of gods, most of them made like men
or women, only stronger and more evil, and named gods by this little
land or that, or even by this city or by that?"

"I think not," I answered.

"Then, Ramose, must there not be one God, King of the Heavens, King of
the Earth, whom we ought to worship, taking no count of all the rest?"

"That is what the Hebrews say, Myra."

"My mother told you that she was a Hebrew, and no mean one. Perhaps,
Ramose, this is what she teaches when she visits me in my sleep."

"Perhaps," I answered.

Then we passed on to other lighter matters, and doubtless before she
left me Myra had forgotten all this debate which sprang suddenly from
her heart, and as suddenly passed away. But if she forgot, I
remembered and considered and accepted, till in the end, rejecting all
else, though as yet I knew him not, in my heart I became a worshipper
of that one unknown God of whom she had spoken, whereof all the other
gods were rays in so far as they were good, or perchance ministering
spirits.

Thus then did the maid Myra find the answer to my questionings and
first outline the faith that I hold to-day.

Often I discussed these great matters with Belus. That wise man who
had sifted the truth so often that at last he came to believe in
nothing, only smiled, shook his head and answered,

"What is this one new god that you have found, but he who is named
Fate, whose decrees I read written in the stars, unchangeable from the
beginning of the world?"

"Does that make him less a god?" I asked.

"No," he answered, "it only gives him another name. But what is God?
What is God?"

"Perchance that which we search for in the heavens and at length find
in our own hearts," I answered. . . .



News came to Cyprus and reached us very swiftly through its great ones
who were our clients. Thus we heard how Adikran the Libyan, being
oppressed of the Cyrenians had prayed Apries my father, the Pharaoh,
to help him against these Greeks. Thereon it seemed, the Egyptian
party at Pharaoh's court forced him against his will to despatch an
army to destroy those of Cyrene. As it happened, however, these
defeated that army with heavy loss, whereon there was a great outcry
in Egypt, the people thinking that Apries who was known to love the
Greeks, had made a plot that the Egyptian troops should be destroyed
by them. Then, so went the tale, Pharaoh in his trouble turned to
Amasis, the general under whom I had fought against the Babylonians,
and sent him to the army which was in rebellion, to take command of
it, thinking that he, whom the Egyptians loved, would bring it to
obedience. Yet the result was otherwise, for the Egyptian troops,
seizing Amasis, set a crown upon his head and declared him Pharaoh,
thus fulfilling the prophecy of Belus.

Now Apries my father raised another great army of thirty thousand
Greeks to fight Amasis. But in this as in all battles, Amasis proved
himself the better general, defeating the Greeks and taking Apries my
father prisoner. So he remained a prisoner for some years, being well
treated by Amasis who was kind-hearted and indeed kept him to rule
with him over Egypt. In the end Apries rebelled, and departing from
Sais, began to raid Egypt with his Greeks. There followed more
fighting and at last Apries was killed, some said by the Egyptians,
and some by his own soldiers. At least he was killed in a boat upon
the Nile, and Amasis, taking his body, embalmed it and gave it royal
burial.

This then was the fate of Pharaoh my father whom I had seen last at
that farewell feast which he gave to Atyra the Syrian queen. Yes, this
was the end of all his greatness and his glory--to be butchered like a
sheep in a boat upon the Nile, after Amasis, who had saved me from
death at his hands, had cast him from his throne.

Such was the news that came to us from Egypt while, under our feigned
names, we lay hid in the city of Salamis in Cyprus.

When we were sure that the Pharaoh Apries, who begot me, was dead and
that Amasis filled his throne, Belus spoke to me, saying,

"Is it your wish, Ramose, to dwell here at Salamis as a merchant for
all your days? Bethink you, you have no longer anything to fear from
the wrath of him who was Pharaoh, for Amasis sits in his place, and
Amasis is, or was, your friend and mine."

"Nay," I answered, "I would return to Egypt to learn whether my mother
still lives."

For though we had been parted these many years I still loved my
mother. Yet I had not dared to write to her, because I feared her busy
tongue and lest she should whisper of my whereabouts and thus set
Pharaoh's dogs upon my scent. Therefore I thought it wisest to leave
her believing that I was dead.

"If so, let us return, Ramose. Where you and Myra go, thither I will
go also who grow too old to seek new friends. We have wealth in plenty
and can live together where we will--until my call comes."

I opened my lips to ask him of what call he spoke, then bethinking me
that he must mean that of death, closed them again. Yet this was not
so, as I learned afterwards.

Thus in few words we agreed upon this great matter, which I did the
more willingly because it came to my ears that a certain high one in
Cyprus whom it would have been hard to resist, had learned of the
wonderful beauty of the maid Myra and was plotting to take her. Very
quietly we sold all that belonged to us in Cyprus and transferred our
wealth to those with whom we dealt in Egypt, honourable men who, we
knew, would keep it safe until we came to claim it in the trade name
of our Cyprian firm, though it is true that when I saw how great it
had grown, I was afraid.

At length all was ready and the ship in which we must sail on the
morrow, lay at anchor at the mole. We three sat, somewhat desolate, in
our desolate home that was no longer ours, for we had sold it with the
rest. The statues, the vases, the gems and all the priceless treasures
that piece by piece I had gathered to please our eyes and to make the
place beautiful were on board the vessel, together with the most of
such of the household as had chosen to follow us, so that the chambers
looked naked and unfriendly. Myra noted it and wept a little, saying,

"I have been very happy here in Salamis, Ramose, and I would that we
were not going away. My heart tells me that trouble awaits us yonder
in Egypt."

Now I was distressed and knew not what to answer, save that regrets
came too late, for I could not tell her about the peril from that high
lord. But Belus replied,

"It is natural that you should grieve, Myra, who have grown from
infancy to the verge of womanhood in this place. Yet hearken. My heart
or rather the stars tell me another tale. I seem to see it written on
the book of Fate that whatever ills we may find in Egypt, those that
are worse would overtake us if we lived on here. I tell you," he added
solemnly, "that a curse and great desolation hang over Salamis. What
it is I do not know. Mayhap it will be burned by the Babylonians, or
other foes, but unless my wisdom is at fault, soon Salamis the
beautiful will be no more."

Thus he spoke nor did we question him about the matter, for like all
seers, when Belus had uttered his oracle he would not speak of it
again.

The next morning before the light we embarked secretly upon our ship,
which we had given out was sailing on a trading venture, and departed
from the shores of Cyprus. Before ever we set foot upon the quays of
Memphis, we learned that a great earthquake had shaken much of Salamis
to the ground, burying hundreds of her citizens, and that among the
streets destroyed was that in which we had dwelt, for a mighty wave
following the earthquake had flowed over it, washing it into the deep.

When we heard this tale, Belus looked at us and smiled, but we said
nothing, whatever we might think.



                             CHAPTER VIII

                              AT MEMPHIS

At length we came safe to Memphis, for Apries being dead and the
Grecian mercenaries and marauders who clung to him, slain, or
scattered, or driven away, there was peace throughout Egypt under the
rule of the new Pharaoh, Amasis the Egyptian. The gates of the cities
stood open, the Nile was free to all who sailed upon it, the
husbandman ploughed his field and none robbed him of its fruits. In
those years, before the Persians fell upon her, Egypt rested unafraid,
rich and happy beneath the strong hand of Amasis.

As soon as we came ashore in the early morn I made inquiry of a port
captain whether Tapert the high officer still dwelt there, and learned
that he had been some years dead. Then with secret fear, but as it
seemed carelessly, saying that I had known him when I was a lad, I
asked if any of his household remained and waited with a beating
heart.

"Nay," was the answer, "he left no children, but the Grecian lady
lives on, she whom he married and who once, as she declares, was the
love of Apries the Pharaoh. Indeed she remains a fair and gracious
lady, one of much wealth also, for Tapert left her all he had, which
was not a little. She dwells alone in a great house in a garden, not
far from the temple of Ptah, and is famous for her hospitality, for
she spends the most of her substance on feasts and costly raiment,
saying that she has none for whom to save."

Now when I heard that my mother lived I was glad, for though the man's
words showed me that she was still vain and foolish, after all she was
my mother who had given me life.

Leaving the ship and its cargo in the charge of the officers appointed
to watch the goods of traders, and of our servants, I hired asses,
also a guide. Mounting these beasts, the three of us, Belus and I and
Myra, who wore a veil in the Eastern fashion to hide her face, rode
through the mean suburb that lay without the wall between the banks of
Nile and the city, to the gate, through which we passed unquestioned.
The guide led us up a broad street on either side of which dwelt the
richest of the citizens, till, not far from the enclosure of the great
temple of Ptah, we came to a walled garden. Being admitted we rode on
through this beautiful garden to the door of a large white house built
round a courtyard, which he said was that of the widow of Tapert. Here
servants in fine garments such as are worn in palaces, ran out asking
our business, to whom I answered that we were strangers newly arrived
at Memphis who wished to have speech with their mistress about a
matter that would be of interest to her, and when, unsatisfied, they
desired to learn our names, I gave those of Ptahmes and Azar by which
we had been known in Cyprus.

A man departed with this message and presently there came an old
fellow who carried a wand which showed me that much state was kept in
this house. Moreover, although he knew me not, I knew him, for when I
was a child he had been one of the servants appointed to my mother at
Pharaoh's court.

"Follow me," he said, bowing in the fashion that he had learnt there
in his youth.

"We follow," I answered and I saw him start at the sound of my voice
and look at me curiously, like one who searches his mind for something
forgotten.

We crossed the courtyard and a narrow, pillared gallery by which it
was surrounded, and entered a large chamber with open window-places
that looked towards the Nile. Near to one of these, seated in a
beautiful carved chair inlaid with ivory, sat a tall woman clad in
white Grecian robes, engaged in stringing a necklace of gold and gems.

From far off I knew her for my mother. Although now her hair was
darker and her features thinner than they used to be, there remained
the same gracious form, the same quick movement of the delicate hands
and the same large grey eyes with which she glanced at us, as always
was her wont to do at strangers. That glance first fell upon me and so
dwelt awhile; then as though she were puzzled, with a shake of the
head it passed on to Belus of whom she made nothing for he wore an
Eastern robe with a hood to it. Lastly it rested upon the maiden Myra
who had thrown back her veil, while astonishment grew upon her face,
doubtless because of the beauty that she saw. It passed and she
motioned to us to be seated upon stools that had been set for us, then
asked in her pleasant voice,

"What is your pleasure, strangers, with Chloe, who once was great in
Egypt, but now is known as the widow of Tapert? Can she be of any help
to you?"

I whispered to Belus to speak, because I was confused.

"Lady," he said, "for a certain reason we have come here, travelling
from far, to ask you if you know what has chanced to a young man named
Ramose, who was said to be the son of Pharaoh now gathered to Osiris,
as you were said to be his mother."

She turned pale and let fall the necklace.

"Who are you?" she asked in a cold voice, "that you come hither to
stir up bitter memories? Ramose my son is dead. Trouble came upon him
through a high-placed Syrian harlot who bewitched him, handling him as
such women do the young who take their fancy, and whose death was laid
at his door, as though a lad would have wished to slay his lover. So,
as I was told, he fled away with a Babylonian knave and sorcerer
called Belus, who was his tutor and used to draw horoscopes and doctor
the sick at Pharaoh's court--indeed be it admitted--whatever his
horoscopes may have been, his doctoring was good for I have profited
by it. They fled to Amasis, now Pharaoh, who at that time was general
of an army which fought and defeated the Babylonians, and there, as I
have heard, my son played a man's part in war. Then he vanished away,
for though the battle spared him, Pharaoh sought his life because of
the high-placed Syrian strumpet whose death had brought trouble upon
Egypt, and all know what happens to those of whom Pharaoh seeks the
life?"

Now Belus threw back his hood and looking at my mother, asked,

"Does the great lady Chloe find the medicine that the knave and
sorcerer Belus gave to her amongst others, for the pain which used to
strike her in the head above the eyes, still of service in the autumn
of the year?"

My mother sprang from her chair, staring at him.

"By Zeus!" she cried, "you are Belus, and little changed, as would
chance with a sorcerer. Oh! Belus, tell me of my son. What befell my
son for whom I had such high hopes? If he died, why are you, who
shared his sin, alive?"

"Because sorcerers do not die, Lady," replied Belus drily. "Others
die, but they live on, else of what use is it to be a sorcerer?"

My mother made no answer to his mockeries, but still stared at him.

"One thing is certain," continued Belus, "that if I am a sorcerer and
a knave, you are no witch, but only--forgive me--a fool."

"A fool!" she answered angrily. "Why so?"

"Because a wise woman would have made certain that he whom she loved
was truly dead before she put on the veil of mourning."

"Your meaning?" she said haughtily.

"I have talked too much," said Belus. "Ask it of these others. Am I
your only visitor, Lady Chloe?"

Now for the first time my mother looked fixedly at me, who was dressed
in a plain merchant's robe and seated in the shadow beyond the shaft
of light that flowed through the window place.

"Sir," she said in a hesitating voice, "do you know aught of this
business of the death of my son who, had he lived, might now perhaps
have been a man of your age, though not, I think, a merchant, for I
will not hide that he had royal blood in him."

Now I drew my stool forward out of the shadow so that the light fell
full upon my face, and lifted the merchant's cap from my head,
revealing the brown hair that curled beneath.

She stared at me; oh! how she stared!--then muttered as though to
herself,

"Can this be Ramose whom last I saw as a lad? Nay, it is not possible,
for had he lived Ramose who loved me as a child and for whose sake I
tore myself away from the sight of him, would never have left me
desolate all these long years, believing that he was dead. Yet--those
eyes--that hair, yes, and the fashion of locking his fingers----! Oh,
torment me no more. Are you Ramose, or another?"

"I am Ramose, your son," I said, and was silent, for words choked in
my throat.

She uttered a little cry, then rose and threw herself upon my breast
and lay there speechless. In the stillness that followed I heard Belus
whisper, I suppose to Myra, who all this while had sat like a statue,
or perchance to himself,

"A fool I called her, and rightly. For what else is a woman who does
not know her own son?"

"Be quiet," answered Myra, "or I shall call you hard names, Belus."

And he obeyed her, for with him Myra could do what she would.

"Listen, my mother," I said gently, "and reproach me no more because I
hid from you that I was alive. I did this knowing that if you learned
the truth, others would learn it too, and soon I should cease to be
alive, for the ears of Pharaoh are long. Also I was not sure till an
hour ago whether you still dwelt in Memphis or anywhere upon the
earth. Therefore, under a false name, I lay hid in another land until
I knew that Pharaoh my father was dead, and that I could return to
Egypt to seek you fearing nothing, for he who now is Pharaoh was my
friend and saved me from doom."

"Who is this before whom you tell all your secrets?" asked my mother,
pointing at Myra. "Is she your wife? Nay, she is too young. Your
daughter then?"

"Aye, the daughter of my heart, one whom Heaven sent to me who am
still unwed."

"Then let this daughter of your heart be welcome," said my mother,
"and be sure that I shall ask no questions concerning her that you do
not wish to answer. Yes, and Belus also."



Of that day of reunion after many years I need write no more. Before
we sat down to eat at noon our tale was told, though whether my mother
believed that part of it which had to do with the finding of Myra upon
the battlefield, I do not know. Moreover, I had promised that the
three of us would take up our abode in my mother's house which was
large and stately, for she would not suffer that we should go
elsewhere, though from the first Myra wished to do so.

Thus began our life at Memphis. It was a very happy life, yet it had
its troubles, as have all lives. First, I who had been so busy a man,
occupied for many hours of the day with my trading, now must be idle,
which I found wearisome. To remedy it, having wealth at my command, I
bought lands near to the city, and farmed them. I bred cattle and
horses, the finest beasts, perhaps, that had been seen in Egypt; I
tamed deer and wild animals and raised every kind of grain. Yet as
this was not enough, with Belus and Myra I followed after all
learning, till at last I was almost as wise as Belus himself and Myra
lagged not far behind me.

At all this my mother stared, saying that poring over scrolls and
calculations was no task for a lovely maiden, or for the matter of
that, for a man still young who should be busy with great affairs.
Even my breeding of beasts did not please her, for this, she said, was
the business of farmers and such humble folk. At length I grew vexed
and asked her what she would have me do, who already possessed more
riches than I needed, not counting her own which were great.

"Do!" she answered. "Why, rise. Be a man, show yourself as a high lord
in Egypt, become famous. Wage wars and win them, as your noble Grecian
forefathers would have done. Are you Pharaoh's son, of the true royal
blood of Egypt upon the father's side; indeed as I believe, his only
son left living, for Amasis or his party, has blotted out all the
rest? Are you not by rank a Count of Egypt; have you not wealth at
your command as great perhaps as that of any prince or noble of Egypt?
Have you not a mother who knows the ways of courts and can help you?
Yet you spend your days tramping amongst swamps to watch the corn
spring, or counting calves and foals, and your nights with a maiden
and a philosopher, studying strange, ancient books or staring at the
stars. So the precious years slip through your hands like water and
soon you will be old, not leaving so much as one lawful child behind
you because of some silly vow you have taken that divorces you from
woman."

Thus my mother taunted me, for she was very ambitious and as I could
see, desired that I should wipe out the stain upon my birth by rising
to great station where she could glitter at my side. Aye, she desired
more, though she never said as much in words, namely, that I should
become Pharaoh of Egypt in place of one whom she called "the usurper"
and the "murderer" of Apries who had been her lord and my begetter.

For she forgot that this father of mine had sought earnestly to put me
to death because of the trouble about a Syrian queen, which had
disappointed him in his policies, and that Amasis had saved me from
his anger. But I did not forget these things and therefore would have
nothing to do with such plots, who indeed had no desire to become
Pharaoh, but sought only to lead a quiet, learned life, such as
befitted a man of fortune who knew that our days are short and who
looked onward to all that might lie beyond it.

Still, to please my mother who would not let me be in peace, I entered
into the public business of the city, taking this office and that, and
rising always to the leadership of men. For now--I think through her--
it became known who I was, none less in fact than the only living son
of the dead Pharaoh, also that I was one of the richest men in Egypt;
for which reasons I was courted, not only by the common people, but by
the nobles and even by the high priests of the temples of the gods.
For, after her vanity and ambition, this was my mother's greatest
fault--she could not keep silent.

Now if these things were bad, another was worse, namely, the jealousy
which sprang up between my mother and Myra.

Since I had returned to her I was everything to my mother, who would
never leave me if she had her way. But before I returned I had been
everything to Myra who was the constant companion of my leisure hours
and who, as I have said, from the beginning would look upon no other
man with favour, except at times, on Belus. Thus these two crossed
each other's path continually till at length if I were sitting with
the one, the other would not enter, but departed saying she saw that I
did not wish to be disturbed, or some such words. All of which vexed
me much and caused Belus to smile.

Meanwhile, month by month Myra became more learned and sweet in mind
and more beautiful in face and form, till at last she was the fairest
maiden that ever I beheld.

One day Belus asked me,

"Why do you not marry Myra, Ramose?"

I started at his words, and answered,

"Have I not told you that, like a priest of Isis, I am sworn to remain
celibate? Also Myra is very young and before she turns her thoughts to
marriage, she should see other men, young men of her own age, one of
whom perhaps she might desire as a husband."

"And do you desire to give her to some such stranger?"

At this a sudden change took place in me and a pain shot through my
heart. It was as though it had been gripped by a cold hand. It was as
though I had come face to face with death.

"I desire Myra's happiness," I answered, looking down, "I who stand in
the place of her father, and mother too."

"Would it not be well to ask her what she herself desires?"

"I do not know. Perhaps, when she is older--say in a year or two.
Meanwhile she is happy in her state; let her remain so for a while."

"Many things happen in a year or two," said Belus drily.

Now it would seem that this same matter of marriage was troubling my
mother's mind, only in another sense, for having found me after many
years of separation, and being by nature somewhat jealous, she did not
desire that I should marry and thus, as she thought, be taken away
from her again, at any rate, not yet. Least of all did she desire that
Myra should become my wife although she was so lovely and so learned,
because she was sure that then one roof would not cover the three of
us, however large it might be. In truth it was Myra whom she wished to
see wed, but not to me, if indeed it were lawful that I should marry
her. For she thought or tried to think that we who were as father and
daughter, would never be happy as husband and wife. Also, although she
had taunted me on the matter, in her heart she believed that having
remained single so long, it would be best that I should continue so,
satisfying myself with her love and company, with no other woman to
come between us.

Therefore she began to talk to her friends of the great charm and
favour of this ward of mine in such a way that many came to think that
she was not my ward, but my daughter, as perhaps at times she did
herself who wished that it might be so. Further, she gave feasts to
the noblest of Memphis, at which feasts Myra was present and was made
known to the guests as my adopted daughter. Soon that happened which
she had foreseen.

Within a month young Counts and others were seeking after Myra, and
within two, one of them, a very fine gallant, had asked her hand
through my mother, who at once told Myra what had chanced.

Myra, it seemed, making no answer, rose and departed with angry eyes.
That afternoon I was away from home, checking the cattle on my farm
with my overseers. The business was long and the moon was up before I
returned, entering the garden of the house by a side gate, as was my
custom. Following a winding path I came to a clump of palms, the most
secret place in all that large garden, where stood seats and a table
which Myra and I often used when we worked together in the heat of the
day, because there a breeze always blew beneath the roof of palm
leaves.

Suddenly a figure appeared stopping my path and I sprang back, fearing
thieves. Then the tall figure threw off its hood and the sweet voice
of Myra said,

"Ramose, forgive me, Ramose, but I would speak with you alone."

"What is it, child? Cannot you always speak with me alone?"

"Nay, Ramose, not of late, for in this way or in that, it seems that
the lady your mother hears all I have to say. In Memphis we are not as
we were at Salamis the happy."

"Well, speak on, most dear," I said, seating myself upon the bench and
pointing to her accustomed place.

She took it, and said presently,

"Ramose, I am wretched. Your mother does not love me. I think that she
is very jealous of me because you--do love me, or did in past days.
Therefore she makes plots against me."

"What plots?" I asked astonished.

"Plots to be rid of me that she may keep you to herself. Ramose, in
secret she gives it out that I am your daughter, which you tell me is
not true, and that it would rejoice you to see me wed to some man of
station."

"Hush!" I said. "Child, you dream. It is possible that my mother may
have thought that you were too lonely here and like other maidens,
desired to be courted, but for the rest, I say you dream."

"Aye, Ramose, I dream so well that----" here she named one of the
greatest in Memphis----"has asked me in marriage through her."

"What of it, child?" I said lightly. "He is a man well spoken of,
wealthy and in the way of advancement, if somewhat loud-voiced and
boastful to my fancy."

"Perchance, Ramose. Yet to me he is as a crocodile or a toad."

Now I laughed and answered,

"Then say him nay and have done."

"Aye, that I will, Ramose, but cannot you understand that there are
others behind him, and that to me they are all--crocodiles and toads?"

"Then say them all nay, Myra, and remain as you are. Do you think that
I wish to force you into marriage?"

"No, Ramose. If I did I should kill you, or rather I should kill
myself. Swear to me that you will protect me against marriage, and
against all men; unless you desire to see me dead."

"Aye, Myra, with my life if need be. Yet yours is a strange mood for
one who is young and beautiful."

"Then let it be strange, but so it is. You have sworn and it is
enough, for when did you ever break your word, O most beloved Ramose?
Now I would ask something else of you, but having received so great a
gift, this is not the time."

"What would you ask, Myra?"

"Oh! that we might go out of this fine house to that cottage near the
river, you and I and old Belus, and be rid of all these great folk,
the women in their silks and perfumes, and the lords in their chariots
or on their prancing horses, with their mincing talk and false eyes,
and there, with Belus, look upon the stars and hear his Babylonian
wisdom and his tales of the past, and his prophecies of things to
come, and be quite at peace, forgetting and forgotten by the world."

"I will think of it," I answered, "but my lady mother would be angry."

"Your lady mother is always angry--with me. But you are not angry,
Ramose, and you have promised to protect me from those men. So what
does it matter? Good night, Ramose. I told your lady mother, who has
made a liar of me, that I was ailing and sought my bed, so thither I
must go. Good night, good night, dearest Ramose," and she lifted her
fact that I might kiss it, then kissed me back and fled away.

I think it was at this moment that first I began to understand that I
loved Myra, not as a father loves his child, but otherwise. Oh! if
only I had told her so and taken her then, how many terrors should we
have missed!



                              CHAPTER IX

                       PHARAOH COMES TO MEMPHIS

On the morning following my meeting with Myra in the garden, I was
awakened early by a servant who said that the head overseer of my farm
desired to see me at once. I commanded that he should be brought to my
chamber. There the man, who was so moved that he could scarcely stand
still, told me that a prodigy had happened during the night, namely
that one of the finest of my cows had borne a splendid calf, in giving
birth to which it died. Here he stopped as though overcome, and I
answered that I grieved at the death of this cow, but that the news of
it might have waited, nor did I see that there was any prodigy about
the matter.

"Lord, that is not all," he went on in an awed voice, "the calf, which
is male, seems to have upon it every mark of the holy Apis bull, or so
says a priest of the temple who chanced to spend the night with me,
and has seen it. Indeed already he has returned to Memphis to tell all
the other priests the glad and wonderful news which by to-morrow or
the next day will be known throughout Egypt."

Now I bethought me that I wished that priest had slept anywhere save
in my overseer's house, for something warned me that this beast, in
which I had no faith, having sought a higher worship than that of
animals, whatever god the vulgar might believe them to incarnate,
would bring trouble upon me. But as such heresies must be hidden, I
asked him what the calf was like. He replied that it was black as
ebony with a square spot of white upon its forehead and the figure of
a white hawk with outstretched wings upon its back. Also on its pink
tongue--wonder of wonders--was the figure of a scarabaeus in black.

Now I affected to be much surprised and said that I would come to see
this holy calf, which in my heart I hoped, being so holy, would soon
follow its dam to the underworld, or be gored to death of its foster-
mother. But this was not to happen, for whenever it took milk the legs
of that cow were tied together until it became accustomed to the
changeling; also its horns were held.

Presently I met Belus and noting that he looked weary, asked him how
he fared.

"Not too well," he answered. "Last night I consulted the stars,
especially those that rule the destinies of us three, and until the
dawn I have been at work upon their message."

"What was it?" I asked idly.

"This, Ramose: That because of some prodigy, trouble awaits us. Those
stars enter an evil combination that foreshadows danger to all of us--
great danger. Yet be not cast down, for in the end they emerge from
this house of perils, or so my calculations tell me, and ride on into
that good fortune which will endure until the end."

Now, though it is true that some of his prophecies seemed to have
fulfilled themselves, perhaps because these came, not from stars, but
from out of the hidden wisdom of his own soul, I did not believe
overmuch in the divinations of Belus, I who always held that the great
planets, sweeping ever on their eternal journey through the skies,
could scarcely trouble themselves with the petty fate of men and
women, or even influence them. Yet I was disturbed when he spoke of a
prodigy, for suddenly I remembered the birth of this Apis calf and my
own fears. So I told Belus what had chanced yonder at the farm while
he watched the heavens.

Now it was his turn to be startled, for he answered,

"I put little faith in Apis, who is but a priest-made symbol. Yet,
Ramose, all the Egyptians think otherwise, for to them he is a god
incarnate upon earth in the flesh of a bull."

"Then may this god soon be disincarnate in heaven or elsewhere," I
exclaimed, which was not to happen, for, as I have said, the brute
lived and throve like any common calf.

When we had eaten Belus and I, Myra also for she would not be left
behind, whether because she wished to behold this wonder or for other
reasons, mounted our asses and rode to the farm to look upon the new-
born calf. As soon as we were clear of the city I beheld a strange
sight, for the road was black with people all talking and
gesticulating, who, too, were travelling to behold the new god, or the
place where it had appeared.

Avoiding these as much as might be, we came at length to the farm
where a great crowd was gathered, who were being thrust back by 
priests and soldiers from the shed in which the calf lay. These people
recognised me, and one cried out,

"Behold Ramose, the blessed of Heaven, upon whose beast the spirit of
the gods has fallen in lightning. Behold Ramose and his beautiful
daughter," (for the most of them believed Myra to be my daughter).

Another answered,

"Aye, behold him, Pharaoh's seed who one day may himself be Pharaoh."

"Aye," called yet another, "for otherwise how comes it that Apis is
born in his house? It is a sign! It is a sign!"

So these fools clamoured till I wished that the earth would open and
swallow them; yes, and Apis too.

After this we were admitted to the shed and saw the calf, which, save
for its markings, was as are other calves. But the markings were
there, and not painted, and when it opened its mouth to bellow, we
perceived the black scarabaeus upon its tongue. Moreover round the
shed were priests of Ptah upon their knees, praying and making
oblations of flowers.

Myra wished to go in and stroke the beast, but one of these priests
sprang up and dragged her back with threatening looks, muttering that
it was not lawful for a woman to enter there, and that if she had
escaped a curse she would be fortunate.

So we went home as quickly as we could, and afterwards these priests
removed the calf whither I knew not, without so much as paying me its
price, to keep it until such time as it should take the place of the
old Apis, which was so near to death that its sarcophagus was already
fashioned and in its niche at the burying-place of bulls some leagues
away.

When my mother heard the news she was much rejoiced.

"When I learned that you had become a farmer, my son," she said, "it
grieved me more even than when you told me that you had been a
merchant, for both these trades are those of common people and
unworthy of your blood, which on one side is that of kings and on the
other that of warriors. Yet now I see that in all these matters Zeus,
or Athene, has directed you, seeing that out of the trade you have won
much wealth, while through the husbandry it has come about that the
great god of the Egyptians has manifested himself in your house, so
that because of this you and I, your mother, will grow famous
throughout Egypt."

Thus spoke my mother who since she had left Pharaoh's household, where
for a while she was a great power, had never been able to fit herself
into the narrow bounds of private life, which, although she was rich,
were all that remained to her after the death of her husband, the
judge and officer, Tapert. Continually she looked back to the pomp and
ceremony of Pharaoh's court, the martial guards, the blowing of
trumpets, the heralds, the golden furnitures, the thrones and the
garments woven with the royal symbols. Yes, and in her heart she
dreamed and hoped that a day would come when through me once more she
would move amidst all this glory, no longer as the mistress of the
king, but as his mother.

It was for this reason, amongst others I have set out, that she
desired to separate me from Myra, hoping that if once she were gone I
might find a wife, however ancient or ill-favoured, in whom ran some
drops of the true blood of the Pharaohs of Egypt. Therefore she set
herself to make known far and wide the sign of favour which the gods
of Egypt had given me in the birth of an Apis among my herd, and, as I
learned afterwards, even wrote or sent messages to old friends of hers
about the court, who had been servants of Apries, to tell them what
had come to pass and to vaunt my wealth and favour among the people.

Soon all this reached the ears of Amasis who now was Pharaoh, and
caused him to think that it would be well if he journeyed to Memphis
to make an offering to the new Apis, or rather to the temple in which
the beast was being reared and to the priests who guarded it; also to
make sure who the man might be that was spoken of as a king's son and
concerning whom the soothsayers made prophecies. For Amasis never
forgot that he was a usurper who had won his throne by force of arms
and had put his old master, the rightful Pharaoh, to death, or allowed
him to be slain. Therefore he was afraid of any one who could claim
that the true royal blood ran in his veins and, knowing this, I had
not presented myself to him on my return to Egypt.

So in the end Amasis the Pharaoh came to Memphis, sailing up Nile with
royal pomp and ceremony, and was received in state by the nobles,
officers and people of the great city.

I was amongst those who watched him land, and noted that he was much
changed from Amasis the general under whom I had served and who had
saved my life from the anger of Apries years ago. For time, the cares
of state and as some said, the love of wine, had whitened his hair and
carved deep lines upon his rugged face, though still his eyes were
pleasant, if now somewhat shifty and fear-haunted, as those of
usurpers who have won their thrones through blood must ever be.
Putting aside all ceremony, as of old he greeted us in his bluff,
soldier fashion, speaking to us, not as a master or a god, but as an
Egyptian to Egyptians, and calling us "Friends," and "Brothers,"
saying too how glad he was again to visit Memphis after many years and
to meet its lords and people.

Then he mounted in a chariot and was conducted to the old palace of
the Pharaohs that had hastily been made ready to receive him. Here,
later, he held a court, at which we of the Council of the City were
made known to him, one by one. When my turn came, for I thought it
best to appear before him boldly, and he heard my name, he glanced at
me sharply, also at Belus who followed me, and started.

"Surely, Count Ramose, and you, Belus the Physician, we have met
before," he said.

"Yes, Pharaoh," I answered, "though long years have passed since
then."

"Is it true, Count Ramose, that Apis has appeared among your herds?"
he asked.

I answered it was true that I had been so honoured of the gods.

Again he looked at me as though he would search my heart, and inquired
where I lived.

I told him that being unwed I had made my home in the house of my
mother, the widow of the King's Companion, Tapert, who once was
governor of Memphis.

"Is it so, Count?" he said. "Then at sunset Pharaoh will visit you
there without ceremony, and perhaps the lady your mother and you will
give him a bite of food and a cup of wine, also without ceremony,
asking none to meet him save those of the household."

I bowed, muttering that the honour was too great, whereon he waved me
and Belus aside and began to talk to others.

As soon as we might I escaped from that court with Belus, and returned
home in my chariot which I drove myself, Belus riding with me. At the
door I sprang out and called to the running footmen to lead away the
horses.

"Belus," I said, "I am troubled. Why does Pharaoh wish to visit me
thus?"

"I do not know, Ramose," he answered, looking down. "Perhaps to talk
about Apis, or perhaps to speak with us of what happened when we were
younger and the wars of long ago when he was but a general, for they
say that although his memory has grown weak, those days are still dear
to him. Who can tell? We shall learn in time."

"Yes, Belus, and I pray that it may not be more than we wish to know."

Then I went in to tell my mother what had chanced. She heard and broke
into rejoicings which vexed me.

"Pharaoh coming to this house!" she said. "Truly the honour is great.
Every high lady in Memphis will envy me. I must make ready."

"You forget, Mother," I said, "that he who comes killed him who was my
father and your lord."

"My lord, yes, who soon wearied of me--one light love among many--and
gave me in marriage to another man. And your father, yes, who sought
to put you to death for small cause, from which end you were saved by
this Amasis, wherefore I forgive him all. Moreover, it is said that he
had naught to do with the slaying of Apries whom the Egyptians killed
without his knowledge. But I must be gone; the time is short, the time
is very short and there is much to make ready," and turning, she fled
away.

Such is woman, thought I to myself. One comes who seized the throne of
her lord and her son's father and brought him to his end. Yet because
he is Pharaoh she rejoices as though she were about to be visited by a
god--and Belus who had been watching, nodded his head and smiled as
though he read what was passing in my mind, which no doubt he did.

Then I retired to my own chamber and stayed there for the rest of that
day, discussing problems with Belus, or reading histories, for the
house was in a tumult, and when I sought her to continue our studies,
even Myra was not to be found.

Servants flew here and there, messengers went out and returned laden
with goods in baskets, the cooks gathered to themselves other cooks
and worked at their business as though their lives hung on it, the
steward of the household ran to and fro cursing at all he met by the
names of evil gods, the butler drew ancient wines from the cellars and
tasted them until his eye grew dim and his voice thick, gardeners
brought in plants and flowers that they had grown or purchased, and
set them about the rooms. All of these things I saw through my window-
place, or the half-drawn curtains of my doorway, and grew more and
more vexed and troubled. At length when I was no longer able to bear
the noise and confusion and the sound of my mother's voice grown
shrill and angry as she scolded the servants, telling them first one
thing and then another, I fled away to that large upper chamber of the
house where Belus slept and worked.

Here I found him calm as ever, studying a map he had made upon a
papyrus sheet, of the stars, or of certain of them, and turning balls
hung upon wires round a larger ball, which he said figured the sun and
the planets.

"You seem disturbed, Ramose," he said as he checked the motion of
these swinging balls.

"And you seem calm," I answered angrily.

"Yes, Ramose, because I study the stars which are very far away and
very quiet, while you study the earth, which is very near, and to-day
more noisy than is common. If you wish for quiet, fix your heart upon
the stars and leave the earth alone."

"And what do your stars tell you, Belus?"

"Much that as yet I have found no time to interpret fully, but above
all this--that soon you and I will make a long journey. I believe it
is one which I have awaited many years," he added slowly and in a cold
voice.

"Over the edge of the world?" I asked, staring at him.

"No--not yet, I think, but----"

Here the chamberlain rushed into the room and from below I heard my
mother's voice,

"My lord!" he said, "my lord Count, the lady Chloe says that you must
attire yourself in your best, not forgetting to put on the gold chain
that the late good god who was Pharaoh, gave to you, and all your
other marks of rank."

"The late good god!" I muttered. "The late good god whose throat was
cut by butchers in a boat upon the Nile."

"But who afterwards was embalmed in the best fashion, wrapped in gold,
and buried with great glory and all his household wealth by the
present good god, which should console him for his many woes,"
interrupted Belus mockingly.

Then my mother's voice rose shrilly from the foot of the stairs,
calling to the chamberlain who fled, as presently I did also to do her
bidding and array myself. But as I went I said,

"Belus, hearken. Search out another house for you and me and Myra, for
here I can dwell no more. And let it be far away."

"I do not think there is any need," answered Belus. "I think that we
should not dwell there long because the stars have appointed one for
us that is very far away. Still I will do your bidding."

As the sun began to set I went to the portico of the house, followed
by Belus who was clad in the robes of a physician and wore the cap of
an astrologer. Scarcely were we come there when the sound of chariot
wheels and of trampling horses told us that Pharaoh was at hand. Then
he appeared surrounded by a mounted guard. He was arrayed as a
general, and wore no emblem of royalty save a small golden uraeus upon
his helm.

Leaping from the chariot he ordered the officer in charge of the
escort to depart with his men, and return at a certain hour. Then
quite unattended he walked up the steps of the portico and greeted me
who stood bowing before him, in his old jovial fashion. And yet there
was something lacking; his voice did not ring true as once it did; I
felt a change.

"See, Ramose, how well I trust you," he said. "Better indeed than I
would most men who might hold that they had a blood quarrel with me.
That is because we are old comrades in war and therefore there is a
bond of fellowship between us. Rise, man, rise, for here we are not
Pharaoh and subject, but two soldiers met to drink a cup of wine
together."

As he spoke my mother appeared, still looking fair enough, though the
wonderful grace and slightness of form which once were hers had
departed from her.

"The lady Chloe!" he cried, catching her hand as she curtseyed low,
and kissing it. "Surely, after all these years I know her again. Tell
me, Lady, have you made a bargain with your own Aphrodite that defying
time, you remain so fair and young, you whom I used to worship from
afar at the court of Sais, wishing, to speak truth, that for your sake
I stood in Pharaoh's sandals?"

Thus he went on, bantering in his bluff fashion, for never did Amasis
lose his manners of the camp, while my mother reddened to the brow,
muttering I know not what, till of a sudden he ceased and stared past
her.

Turning to discover at what he gazed so fixedly, I saw that Myra had
followed my mother, as no doubt she had been bidden to do. There she
stood uncertain, swaying a little like a palm in the wind; Myra, yet a
new Myra. For she was apparelled, as to my knowledge she had never
been before, in beautiful silken robes, while round her throat and
arms were fine jewels of gold and gems, with necklets of large pearls,
those same priceless ornaments which were the heritage that her dying
mother had given to me in the tent upon the battlefield. On her brow,
too, was a circlet of gold set with pearls and rising to a point,
while ropes of pearls were twined among the waving tresses of her
brown hair, which was spread like a cloud about her shoulders and
almost to her waist. Most beautiful she looked thus in her young
loveliness, yet most splendid, like to a queen indeed. Never before
did I know how beautiful she was. So it seemed Amasis thought also,
which was why he stared at her, then asked,

"Who is this fair maiden, lady Chloe?"

"Myra," answered my mother, "known as the daughter of my son Ramose."

"And therefore a granddaughter of Apries and of the royal blood of
Egypt," said Amasis aloud, but as one who thinks to himself. "Well,
she is very fair, so fair that were I a younger man I think that I
should ask her to draw near to the throne of Egypt, which as it is I
shall not do. Worthy of a king, she is. Yes, worthy of a king!"

Now I bowed purposing to show Amasis that Myra was not my daughter,
and to repeat to him the tale of her finding upon the battlefield,
which doubtless he had forgotten, but as the first words passed my
lips the curtains to the right were drawn and the chamberlain,
appearing between them, cried out that all was ready.

"Good," said Amasis, "let us eat, for know, I starve, whose lips have
touched nothing all this day of ceremony," and taking my mother by the
hand he led her into the large chamber now seldom used, where Tapert,
her husband, feasted the nobles when he was a high officer of Memphis.

Here a table was spread, made fair with flowers and cups of gold and
silver, for it had pleased Tapert to collect such vessels. At the
centre of this table was Tapert's chair of state, a gilded, cushioned
seat that my mother had prepared for Amasis. In it he sat himself
while the rest of us stood, behind him.

"What!" he cried, "am I to eat alone like a prisoner in his cell? Not
so. Forget, I pray you, my hosts, that for an hour I fill Pharaoh's
throne, and come, sit at my side and let us be friendly."

So we placed ourselves at the curved board, my mother on his right,
Myra on his left, and I beyond my mother with Belus beyond Myra.

The feast began, a wonderful feast, since it seemed to me that from it
was missing no luxury known in Egypt. Indeed, I wondered much how in a
few short hours my mother had made so rich a preparation.

Amasis was hungry and ate heartily, praising each dish, as well he
might, for he could have tasted no better at his own table. Also he
drank without stint, of the strong old wine of Cyprus with which
Tapert had stored his cellars, and grew merry.

"Where have you been all these years, Ramose?" he asked. "I remember
that we parted at Pelusium after we had defeated Evil-Merodach--ah!
that was a battle and one that went the right way for us. It seems a
long while ago, and so it is, for since then Merodach sat for a little
hour upon the throne of Nebuchadnezzar at Babylon and is gone wherever
the Babylonians go when they are dead, and two more after him, the
last of them but a boy who reigned three months and then I think was
murdered. Now Nabonidus is king there, chosen by the people of Babylon
to be their ruler, they say, because he hates the sight of a sword as
they have come to do."

"What is known of this Nabonidus, Pharaoh?" I asked.

"To me little enough, Ramose, except that by birth he is not royal--
like some other kings," he added laughing and pointing to himself.

"May it please Pharaoh, I know something of him," said Belus speaking
for the first time, "for when we both were younger I was his friend.
He comes of a great House that has grown wealthy by trade. His nature
is, or was, kindly and gentle. He was very fond of learning also and
especially of all that has to do with bygone kings and times, and
written records and ancient temples. Lately I have heard from Babylon
where there are still some who write to me, that he spends his days in
studying such matters and in rebuilding the old shrines of the gods,
leaving most of the business of the State to be dealt with by his son,
the Prince Belshazzar."

"Belshazzar!" exclaimed Amasis. "I have heard much of this man, more
than I wish indeed. What of him, Astrologer? Is he, too, learned and
gentle?"

"Nay, Pharaoh. I knew him also in his youth when he dealt very
wickedly with--a friend of mine. He is a fierce and cruel man,
ambitious and violent, but one of ability when he can turn from his
pleasures and his wine."

"So I have heard also, and further that being an old fool, Nabonidus
trusts all to him, signing whatever his son Belshazzar puts before
him. Yes, he does this even at a time when Babylon is threatened by
Cyrus the Persian. Therefore through his councillors and in the name
of Nabonidus the King, Belshazzar seeks an alliance with Egypt upon
whom Nebuchadnezzar was wont to war, as we know. In earnest of it he
offers his sister in marriage to me, and asks that a princess of the
royal House of Egypt should be given to his father Nabonidus who is
lately widowed, that she may be Queen of Babylon and all its empire,
and take with her as a dowry the friendship of Egypt."

Here he paused to drink wine, then added more as though he were
speaking to himself than to us,

"But I have no princess to send to him, and Apries who went before me,
left no daughters save one who is already married, old and childless,
for whom even the ancient Nabonidus would not thank me."

Then again he paused, looking about him. His eyes fell upon Myra who
was seated by him leaning forward so that she might hear all.

"Beautiful," he muttered, "most beautiful."

A thought seemed to strike him for he started, then began to talk to
Myra, asking her of her life at Memphis, and whether it would not
please her to shine in a king's court.

"Nay, O Pharaoh," she answered, "I am very happy here where I follow
after learning with Belus for my teacher, and for the rest occupy
myself with simple things."

"What do you learn, maiden?" asked Amasis "The languages of other
lands?"

"Yes," replied Myra with pride, "I know Greek and the tongues of
Cyprus, that of Babylon also, and can write them all."

"Thoth, god of letters, led by the hand of Hathor and Bes, gods of
love and beauty, must have attended at your birth, maiden," exclaimed
Amasis in the voice of one who had drunk too much, as leaning forward,
he patted her on the hand.

Now I looked at my mother who, fearing some folly on the part of
Pharaoh and understanding that I wished her to be gone, rose from her
seat, bowed and departed, taking Myra with her. Amasis waited till the
curtains had swung to behind them. Then he looked round the room and
seeing that we were alone, for at a sign from me the servants had left
us, of a sudden he seemed to grow sober, as I remembered he could
always do if he wished.

"Ramose," he said, "now that the women have left us I would have a
word with you, which was why I came here. Nay, Belus, do not go; it is
always well to have a water-drinker for a witness."

I bowed and waited.

"Ramose," he went on, "if I were wise, I think that I should cause you
to be killed."

"That Pharaoh cannot do," I said, "having eaten of my bread. Yet why
should he cause me to be killed whom in the past he saved from death?"

"Because times have changed and we change with them, Ramose. Because
without doubt you are of the old royal blood of Egypt, if on one side
only, whereas not a drop of it flows in my veins, and but little in
those of my sons, for those wives of mine who are called royal were
made so by decree rather than by birth. Because, too, this is known
among the people who, as my spies have told me, treat you like a
prince and in their private talk speak of you as one who in a day to
come may sit in Pharaoh's seat. Lastly because an Apis has been born
among your cattle which the vulgar take for a sign, yes, and the
priests who are the real power in Egypt. Certainly therefore it would
be wiser that you should die, or so I think, who desire to be the
forefather of a great dynasty that shall rule for hundreds of years."

"I am in Pharaoh's hands," I answered coldly. "He has thousands at his
command to do his will, whereas I am defenceless. If Pharaoh desires
to mingle my blood with my wine, what more is there to say? Let him
who slew the father, slay the son and make an end."

Now, whether by design or because it was so, again suddenly Amasis
seemed to grow drunken and answered,

"Aye, why not? It would save many doubts and troubles. Belus here will
bear witness that we quarrelled and that I killed you in self-
defence," and rising he half-drew the sword which he wore with his
general's armour.

Belus sprang up and slipping behind Amasis, began to talk into his
ear. Although he spoke so low all he said, or the meaning of it, came
to my sense made keen by danger. It went thus:

"Pharaoh forgets that in this quiet place his armies avail him
nothing. Here he can die like other men. Let him look."

Amasis glanced over his shoulder, to see that there was a knife in the
hand of Belus and that its point was very near his throat.

"If Pharaoh died," went on Belus, "would it not be easy to hide him
away while some went out and declared that he had been gathered to
Osiris and that the gods who had caused Apis to be born in his house,
had appointed Ramose, the son of Apries, to fill his throne? And if
this were done, would not Memphis listen, and what Memphis says, would
not all Egypt say, and would not the army welcome Ramose with a
shout?"

"Perhaps you are right," said Amasis, again sobered of a sudden.
"Ramose, know that I do not wish to kill you if only I can be sure
that you will not plot against me. Believe me, neither did I wish to
kill your father. After the army had made me king, yonder in Cyrenia
and against my will, I kept him to rule with me, but he plotted
against me and at last came the end. They tell me that you are doing
likewise, and now Apis has been born amongst your herds which Egypt
will take for a sign. If I spare you, how can I be certain that you
will spare me?"

"Because I have no wish to sit upon any throne, Pharaoh, I who having
enough to satisfy my every want, desire only to lead a peaceful,
learned life. Is it my fault that an Apis is born amongst my herd?"

"No, Ramose, but it is a sign sent by the gods; at least the people
will so interpret it and therefore you must bear the blame. For the
rest, you may change your mind. I had no wish to be a king, yet a
crown was thrust upon me, which could not have happened if Apries had
killed me first, as, had he been wise, he would have done. Still as a
lad you were ever honest; so, asking no oaths I believe you, for what
are oaths when it comes to grips? Indeed, what I said was but to try
you, so let it be forgotten. Yet Belus has threatened me with a knife,
why then should he not die, he, the threatener of Pharaoh, who, as any
priest will tell you, is a god--no less?"

Now Belus, showing no fear, answered boldly,

"I think that I answered that question long ago, Pharaoh, in a certain
general's tent upon the borders of Egypt, before a great battle
against the Babylonians."

"I remember," said Amasis. "You said the stars appointed me to be king
which has come true, though at the time the words seemed folly," and
he looked at him not without awe.

"I said more than that, Pharaoh. As my life seemed to be in danger
then, as it does now, I told you that those stars declared also that
if you killed me, my blood would call for your blood and that you too
would die. I repeat those words, for the stars do not change their
story. If you are weary of life and rule, strive to bring death upon
me who never harmed you."

Amasis stared at him and his ruddy face grew pale.

"I think that you have power, Babylonian," he said, "if of a different
sort from mine. Fear nothing. You shall go safe from me, and your
master also, so long as he does not try to plot against me, or to take
my place."

"Pharaoh is very wise," answered Belus in the same cold voice, "so
wise that I will tell him something that I wished to keep secret.
Already by his threats he has earned much evil at the hand of fate."

"What evil, man?"

"This--that though he live out his life in peace and splendour, yet it
shall not be so with him who comes after, the son of his body. Storm-
clouds are gathering in the east, O Pharaoh."

"Have done, Babylonian," broke in Amasis. "I would hear no more of
your evil-opened talk. Our pact is made--it is enough."

"As Pharaoh pleases," said Belus bowing, while with quick eyes he
searched his face.

Then Amasis turned to me and asked,

"What happened to you after we parted years ago, Ramose? I remember
that you went away with a little child about whom you told some idle
tale, but who in truth was your daughter, that same maiden who dwells
with you to-day."

"She was not my daughter, Pharaoh----"

Thus I began, but he stopped me with a wave of his hand and his rough,
soldier's laugh, saying,

"Oh! deny it not, Ramose. Have we not all heard of you and that
beautiful Syrian queen, a very flower of love whose favour you had the
luck to win as a lad, though you brought her none? Did not the whole
camp believe that the child was your daughter born of this queen or
another woman perchance, whom you carried with you from Egypt to save
her from the Syrians, and is she not proclaimed here as your daughter
by your own mother and all in Memphis, yes, your daughter and the
grandchild of Apries, as indeed may be read in her royal air? So anger
me no more with your denials, as though I were a priest to whom you
must plead purity, for I will not listen to them, who hate liars. Tell
me, what chanced to you after you escaped from the wrath of Apries
your father?"

Then thinking it wiser not to cross his wild, uncertain mood, which I
set down to the wine that he had drunk, over this matter, small as I
held it, I told Amasis how I had journeyed to Cyprus and made my home
there and grown rich by trade.

"And why did you not stay in Cyprus, Ramose?" he asked suspiciously.

"Because I desired to see my mother from whom I had been parted for
many years, and being Egyptian born, to dwell in Egypt where I
believed that now I should be safe as Pharaoh's friend. Also Belus
warned me that disaster was about to fall upon the city where we
dwelt, which indeed happened, for after I had left it, Salamis was
shaken to the ground by earthquake and those who dwelt in the house
that had been mine, were crushed."

"Belus again!" exclaimed Amasis. "By the gods I would take him for my
soothsayer, were I not sure that of me he would always prophesy more
ill than good, and being a physician also, could bring it to pass, if
so he chose. Therefore I leave you Belus, praying you to guard him
well, who swears, or so I understand, that his death and mine will not
be far apart. To tell the truth I have no fancy to see Osiris out of
his wrappings before I must, or to chat with Apries and others at his
table. No, no, keep Belus and live at ease, Ramose, even if your cows
bear an Apis once a year, and be sure of Pharaoh's favour and all that
he can give you, so long as you leave Pharaoh in peace. And now that
we have settled these matters, let us drink a last cup together in
pledge of them, Ramose, of whom I purpose to make a viceroy in Kush or
elsewhere, or perchance to send upon an embassy. For you are one who
should be great in war and council, and not spend your life in
breeding beasts and growing grain, like any mud-born thickhead who
calls himself a noble and to prove it, flogs his slaves; yes, one who
should serve Pharaoh and prop up his throne, to his vantage and your
own."

Then having drunk, as Belus and I pretended to do also, he set down
his cup and walked with us, somewhat unsteadily, to the chamber where
my mother sat. Here at the doorway he bade Belus and myself discover
whether his escort was in attendance, and if not, to wait till it came
and then advise him, who meanwhile would talk with my mother and bid
her farewell.

So we went because we must, for in such matters Pharaoh must not be
disobeyed, and for a long while tarried in the porch. At length the
escort came, and with it the chariot of Pharaoh.

We returned to make report. The curtains were drawn over the entrance
of my mother's sitting chamber. Thrusting them apart I saw her seated
on a couch with Amasis at her side. He was leaning forward talking
into her ear, while from time to time she nodded her head, as though
in ascent. Perceiving me between the curtains she laid her fingers on
her lips, as though to teach him silence, then rose, calling to me to
enter. I did so and bowing to Pharaoh, told him that his guard and
chariot waited on his pleasure.

"So much the worse," he grumbled, "seeing that now after some happy
hours in the fellowship of old comrades and fair ladies, like an ox
harnessed to a water-mill I must get me to my work again. See, now
what it is. There is the matter of the repair or rebuilding of these
temples of Memphis to be considered, for it must be done cost what it
may, to please the priests--I mean the gods with whom no Pharaoh dare
be out of favour. I am minded to put you in charge of that business,
Ramose, because having been a merchant as well as a learned man and a
lover of what is beautiful, you would save me from being cheated by
roguish architects and craftsmen. Next I must up Nile to Abydos to
tend the ruined shrines of Osiris, and thence to Thebes on a like
errand; also to make offerings at the sepulchres of the ancient kings,
though where their mummies may be to-day none knows, for thieves have
been at work with all of them. Then back here again, perchance to bury
Apis that they say is dying, with fitting pomp yonder in the desert
where those gods lie. After that away to Sais to deal with matters of
state and to face the eternal Babylonian trouble, to say nothing of
that of the Persians, as best I can, as well as the quarrels of the
women of my own household which will pursue me, as I think, to the
underworld.

"Oh! who would be a Pharaoh? Ramose, be guided by me, I pray you, and
never seek to be a Pharaoh, even should a mother urge it in your ears,
though, this I am sure the lady Chloe, being wise, would never do. Now
farewell to all of you, and not least, my hostess, to that fair
grandchild of yours, Ramose's daughter, whose beauty, were it seen,
would set the world aflame and lift her to a throne. Farewell, my
hosts, and farewell, too, Belus, shepherd of the stars, or by them
shepherded--I know not which. Belus the far-sighted, to whom the gods
unveil and who handles wisdom as a soldier does his knife,--or rather
who handles both wisdom--and a knife. Farewell, all. Ho! slaves,
summon the officers to conduct Pharaoh to his chariot."

Thus Amasis came, and thus, bewildering us and hiding his purposes
with this long, rambling speech, as dust obscures a chariot, he went
from my mother's house at Memphis. When he had staggered down the
steps and departed, Belus and I looked at each other, saying nothing.
Then I turned to seek my mother, but she too had gone.



                              CHAPTER X

                           THE HAPPY HOUSE

With pomp and ceremony Pharaoh Amasis departed up Nile to Thebes. Yet
ere he went he laid various offices on me as one marked for his
especial favour; high offices not to be refused, to fill which I must
take public oaths, swearing by the gods to be faithful to him and his
House under pain of death and the curse of heaven. Also he appointed
me as overseer of the architects employed upon the rebuilding of
sundry temples, and especially of the great shrine of Ptah in Memphis.

Thus it came about that soon I must work from dawn till dark as never
I had worked before, scarcely finding leisure to eat, much less to
read with Myra or even to talk with her, of whom now I saw but little.
When I met my mother, however, which was not often for I was out
before she rose, and for the most part returned only after she had
sought her bed, I noted a change in her. She seemed to be full of
mystery and to follow more than ever after foolish pomps, seating
herself in a chair that was like to a throne, with servants who held
fans standing behind her, and even wearing marks of royalty when there
were no strangers there to see, such as a circlet of gold upon her
head from which rose the uraeus snake.

The sight of this angered me, so much that at last I asked her sharply
what it meant and if she wished to bring trouble on me, by aping a
rank that was not hers.

"Not so," she answered smiling. "Yet may not she who has borne a son
to him who was Pharaoh bear the mark of royalty, that is, when she has
special leave so to do, from him who is Pharaoh?"

"I do not know what you mean, my mother, but I do know that if this
were the law, there would be many women in Egypt wearing the royal
uraeus," I answered bluntly, adding, "I pray you therefore to lay that
ornament aside lest my head should pay the price of what you set upon
your own."

Then growing angry, she rose and left me as one who might answer but
who would not, nor did she appear again before me adorned like
Pharaoh's queen or daughter. Indeed I saw her but seldom and when we
met she would rarely speak to me.



On a certain feast day, that appointed to some god when none laboured,
Belus said,

"You bade me buy you a house and I have done so out of your moneys in
my hands," (for I trusted all my wealth to Belus). "Also with the help
of Myra I have furnished it. Come now, and look upon your new home."

"Does my mother know of this?" I asked astonished.

"I have not told her," he answered. "Yet I think she guesses. At least
she said to me but yesterday that perhaps it was as well that you
should live apart because you no longer agreed together; moreover she
held it that it would be more fitting to your new dignities that you
should have a dwelling of your own."

So I went to see this new abode and found it very beautiful. It was an
old palace outside the great wall of the city, and therefore
surrounded by a large garden, of which, because of the narrow space,
there were few within the wall. In the ancient days when the Pharaohs
lived at Memphis, this palace, it was said, had been that of the heir
of the king. In later times, however, it had become a private
dwelling, also a home of priests; but now for a generation, save for
caretakers, it had been deserted though still used as a store-house so
that the roof and walls were saved from decay. Further, the gardens
had been hired to a husbandman who grew in them fruit and vegetables
for sale in the city, also beneath the palm trees green barley for
fodder.

Now all this had passed by purchase to me and already Belus, having
all my revenues at his command, had set numbers of the best artificers
and artists in Memphis to work to make the place beautiful, and once
more a fitting home for a great noble or a prince. Moreover Myra was
in the secret and throwing her heart into the business, laboured
joyously that our new home--for never for a moment did she doubt that
it would be hers as well as mine--should be made even fairer than that
at Salamis, one of the most perfect indeed in all Egypt.

To this end all the furnishings which I had brought from Cyprus, the
statues, the inlaid and enamelled chests, the chairs and beds, the
vessels of gold and silver, and I know not what besides, which for
years it had been my pleasure to collect as the choicest wares and
examples of ancient art from Syria, Cyprus and Egypt, were gathered
from the places where they had been stored because my mother's house
would not contain them. Here and there Myra said they should stand,
even before the rooms were ready to receive them, so that they must be
covered up with cloths for fear of damage by the artists and the
plasterers.

Also through Belus, who was foolish where she was concerned and, like
her old nurse, Metep, unable to withstand her smallest fancy, Myra
bought in Memphis the loveliest that it had to sell of hangings and
carpets and couches and silver swinging lamps, all of which she set
about the chambers, especially in those that were to be allotted to
me. Yet when I entered her own I found it with bare walls and but
plainly furnished; a low bed of white wood, some stools and chairs
with feet shaped like to those of antelopes, also of white wood and
hide-seated, and three chests to hold her garments, painted with
scenes of wild-fowl disporting themselves among lotus plants, or
rushing in alarm through papyrus reeds.

"How is this?" I asked. "My chamber is as that of Pharaoh, while yours
might be the sleeping-place of the daughter of a village sheik."

"Because I would have it so," she answered, tossing her head.
"Moreover in time to come the walls shall be painted, when I have
finished the design and Belus can find an artist who is not a fool."

"I have found one," said Belus.

"Who is that artist?" she asked.

"Yourself," Belus answered, laughing drily, then turned and fled
before she could scold him.

Indeed I was the only one who did not laugh over all this business
when in the end I found that it had cost me the quarter of my fortune,
no less.

"What does it matter?" said Belus in reply to my complaining. "What
does anything matter, especially when there is plenty left which
gathers day by day; that is, if it pleases Myra?"

"You are right," I said, "nothing matters if it pleases Myra. Now she
will have little left for which to wish."

"I am not so sure," said Belus, and went away before I could ask him
what he meant.

At length we took up our abode in this fine new home, although as yet
it was far from finished. My mother came to view it, borne in a chair
such as was used by a wife of Pharaoh when she went abroad, and when
she discovered that all had been planned by Myra, found much fault
with every thing, saying that I should have done better to be guided
by her own purer Grecian tastes.

"Still," she added, "the place is fine and the furnishings and
decorations are of small account, for when your daughter Myra leaves
it to become the consort of some mighty man, they can be changed."

"I do not understand you, my mother," I answered. "Myra does not wish
to change her state; also, she is not my daughter."

"Then, Ramose, if she is not your daughter, why is she not your wife?
Surely you would make nothing less of her."

Having shot this bitter arrow, she went away without waiting for an
answer.

"What does she mean?" I asked of Belus, who had heard these words.

"What she says, or so I think. Hearken, Ramose. There is some plot
afoot. I know not what it is, but it has to do with Myra. If you would
keep her at your side, Ramose, let it be as your wife. Remember that
your mother is right. If you give it out that she is not your daughter
and she continues to dwell in your house with no other woman save an
old nurse, although you forget it because she has lived with you from
a babe, you will cast a slur upon her name."

Now hearing this I was much disturbed.

"Are you mad, Belus?" I asked. "Have we three not always lived
together? And for the rest, is it fitting that I who am almost old
enough to be her father and who for years have forsworn women, should
wed this young maid?"

"Would it then grieve you so much to take her was a wife, Ramose?"
asked Belus in his quiet fashion.

Now I felt the blood come to my face, as I answered,

"It would not grieve me at all; to tell the truth it would delight me
more than anything on earth. It was not of myself that I thought, but
of the poor child who, if I spoke to her of marriage with me, would
take it as a command and obey because she held it to be her duty, for
that reason abandoning all hope of a husband of her own years."

"I thought that not so long ago she might have pleased herself in this
matter, and would not, Ramose."

"It is true, but because a woman turns from one man it does not follow
that she turns from all. After all that count was an empty-headed
coxcomb; there are better than he in Memphis."

"It is a strange thing, Ramose, that those who are wise in nine
matters, are often foolish in the tenth, and those whose sight is so
keen that it can note a lizard on a housetop, often cannot discern the
pitfall that yawns before their feet, or the sharp stone that will
lame them. Such, I hold, is your case, Ramose. Now I pray you, if you
have any faith in what you call my foresight and my vision, put this
matter to the proof and show me that I am wrong."

"How, Belus?"

"By asking Myra whether or not it would please her to become your
wife. Ask her, and soon. To-morrow Pharaoh returns from Thebes to bury
the Apis that is dead, and then passes on at once to Sais."

"What has that to do with Myra and myself?" I asked angrily, because,
to tell the truth, I knew that Belus never spoke without reason. Words
that from another would signify little or nothing, on his lips were
full of meaning.

"More than you think, perhaps, Ramose," he replied, adding,

"Do you promise to prove that I am wrong, if you can, not next year,
or next moon, but this very day?"

"Yes. That is, how can I who must go at once to attend to matters in
the city that cannot be postponed?"

"You return to supper, I believe, and after supper it is customary for
Myra and you to read together. Do you promise?"

"To please you I promise, though I do not know why you should force me
to give Myra pain and to bring shame upon myself."

"Perhaps ere long you will find out. However you have promised and it
is enough, for when did you ever break your word, Ramose?"

Then he went, leaving me wondering where I had heard those words
before. Ah! it came back to me--from the lips of Myra herself after
that boastful fop had asked her in marriage, and she had made me swear
that I would protect her from all men. How came it then that these two
spoke as with one voice? Had they agreed together to ply me with the
same flattery? Nay, that was not in the nature of either of them; they
did but say what they believed. They had set me, a man full of
weakness and of failings, like a statue upon a pylon or a pyramid, one
to be admired as higher than others; one to be loved more than others.
This I could understand in the case of Belus who with all his learning
and gifts from heaven was but a fond philosopher who, being childless
and with few friends in his exile, had cherished me from my boyhood.

But what of Myra who knew all my faults and follies and must suffer
from my moods? Could it be that there was something in her heart which
caused her to forgive these many imperfections and to gild my clay
with the gold of love? I did not know, but as I had promised Belus, I
would discover the truth before I slept that night. Oh! if it should
prove that this sweetest of all maidens loved me, not as a child loves
her father, but as a woman loves a man, then how blessed would be my
lot. Nay, it was too much to hope and I must be on my guard; I must
watch lest her kind heart, duty and a desire to please, should put on
the mask of love.



I went about my business which was very urgent, for much must be made
ready before Pharaoh returned upon the morrow, asking account of my
labours under his royal commission. All day I worked in the heat of
the sun, much vexed with those that had failed me and with the
foolishness of a self-willed architect, and at last as it sank,
wearied out, was borne to my new home.

Here I bathed and clad myself in clean garments of linen. Then led by
a servant I went to the eating-chamber, a very fine room where once
the royal princes of old Egypt had banqueted with their friends and
women, that now cleaned and repaired, we used for the first time. This
apartment, of which the walls were painted with scenes of feasting and
of gay sports, somewhat faded perhaps, seeing that the artist who
limned them had been dead for hundreds upon hundreds of years, opened
on to a gallery that looked over the gardens and the intervening lands
down upon the distant Nile. From this gallery or portico the room was
separated by painted columns formed of heads of Hathor, goddess of
love, between which columns hung rich curtains that the furnishers had
placed there only that day, those that Pharaoh's sons had used having
rotted many generations gone.

In the centre of this beautiful room, illumined by hanging lamps that
we had brought with us from Cyprus, Myra had set a table of black wood
inlaid with electrum, and on it cups of gold and silver taken from my
store, and alabaster vases filled with flowers. Here at this fair
table I ate my first meal in that house, Belus sitting at one side of
it and I at its head. At its foot, in the place of the Lady of the
House, was Myra who in honour of this event had been pleased to array
herself in her richest garments and ornaments, such as she had worn at
the feast my mother had given to Pharaoh. Thus with the lamplight
falling on her she looked beautiful indeed, I think the most beautiful
woman that ever I saw, except perhaps Atyra whose loveliness was of a
richer order and more matured. It was strange to see that this Atyra's
memory should rise up and refuse to leave me on that night when I did
not desire its fellowship. Yet it was so; had her spirit been standing
at my side, like the Double watching in a tomb, she could not have
been more present.

Myra was in her merriest mood. She laughed and talked and jested, till
at length I asked what made her so joyous.

"Oh! many things, Ramose," she answered, "but chiefly because to-night
I am like a slave whose fetters have been struck off and whose lord
has granted her freedom."

"When did you wear fetters, Myra?"

"Till yesterday, Ramose, yonder in your mother's house, where, though
you knew it not, I was always watched. Here I am free--free! Belus,
first of prophets, be kind. Use your skill, Belus, and tell me my
fortune. Here is water into which you may gaze; without are stars--
that is, unless the moon has devoured them; here is my hand covered
with a hundred tiny lines. Gaze into the water, read the stars and the
birth-writings stamped upon my flesh, and tell me my fortune. Tell me
that I shall have many years of joy in this place. Do you know what
was its ancient name? I have discovered it from an old man who works
in the garden who had it from his grandfather. It was called the Happy
House in the byegone days when it was the home of princes and great
lords. Tell me that it will be the Happy House for me and for Ramose
and for you too, dear Belus."

Now Belus shook his head, saying that his arts were needless because
her words had already fulfilled her wish. Still she would not let him
be, but went on teasing him till at length he said,

"Give me that little lily you wear upon your breast, O foolish maid,
who cannot be content with the hour and its joys."

She obeyed. He took the fair white lily, warm from her bosom, and cast
it into a bowl of rich-hued glass that was filled with water for the
dipping of hands when the meals were done, muttered some words that I
could not understand, and breathed upon it; after which he watched it
for a long while. Now, growing uneasy for I shrank from this jest who
doubted whether Belus could play the conjurer even when he tried, he
who was filled with so strange and true a wisdom, I rose and looked
over his shoulder into the bowl.

There was the lily floating, but as I watched it seemed to lose its
shape as though it had been grasped and crumpled; its whiteness also.
The water, too, though this may have been fancy or because of the
colour of the red Eastern glass, to my sight grew first to the hue of
wine, and then to that of blood, so that suddenly I remembered the
blood of murdered Atyra that lay beneath the robe upon the floor of
her chamber at Sais, and shivered.

I glanced at the face of Belus and noted that it was not that of one
who played a trick to please a girl. Nay, it was strained and anxious
and on his brow appeared beads of sudden sweat. I was about to speak,
or overthrow the bowl, but divining it although I stood behind him, he
held up a finger and checked me. For a minute or more he went on
watching, covering the most of the bowl with his hands, so that I
could no longer see within it. Then his face changed and once more
became quiet and impenetrable, also he sighed, a sigh of relief, such
as is uttered when a great danger has passed by ourselves or one we
love.

Removing his hands from the edge of the bowl, he said,

"Look."

I did so and behold! there floated the little lily as white as it had
been when it was gathered, in water as pure as when it was drawn from
the well. He took the flower and gave it back to Myra, saying,

"Press it in a book, child, and cherish it all your life; nay, set it
between two plates of crystal as a talisman."

"Oh! my lily," she cried, "how fair you are and how sweet you smell;
although so small your fragrance perfumes the room. Ramose, you shall
make me a present. You shall order the jeweller to enclose this little
lily in a tiny shrine of crystal, hung upon a golden chain, such as I
can always wear. That is, you shall do this to-morrow, to-night I will
keep it for myself. But I forget! What did my magic flower tell you,
Belus? Nay, do not shake your head. Speak, I command you, and truly.
In the name of the Truth we worship, speak truly."

"Being thus adjured, it seems that I must obey," said Belus slowly.
"Your magic lily told me that your wish will be fulfilled and that in
this abode which is named the Happy House you will spend many years of
such joy as is given to those who wander upon earth."

She clapped her hands rejoicing.

"Those are good words," she laughed; "those are most fortunate words."

"Yes, Myra, they are good and fortunate, wherefore forget them not
when good fortune seems far away. You have not heard the end of them,
Myra, which since you commanded me to speak all the truth, I must
declare to you. Between this night of joy and those years of joy to
come lies a space of fear and black doubt, such as crushes the hearts
of mortals. Steel yourself to bear them, Myra, as others must who love
you, as I did but now when I saw the white lily blacken in the cup and
the water on which it floated turn to a pool of blood. Remember
always, even when hope seems gone, that the lily will once more grow
white and fragrant, and the water once more be pure."

"I will remember," she answered quietly and very gravely, who suddenly
understood that this was no child's game, but something that the
strength of Belus had wrung out of the clenched hand of Fate,
something she could not understand, and perhaps that he himself did
not altogether understand.

Belus rose and went; the servants came and did their office swiftly
enough who were well trained, having been with me in Cyprus, leaving
us alone.

"The place is hot," I said, "nor can we go to the chamber chosen for
our studies, for it is not prepared, all is in confusion there. Come,
Myra, let us sit without and watch the moon rise up on the Nile."

"Yes," she said, and led the way between the curtains to the portico
or colonnade that was built along that front of the old palace which
faced towards the Nile. Here were ancient marble seats and on one of
these, that nearest to the corner of the house where a wall was built
across the roofed-in colonnade, we sat ourselves down in the shadow.

"What did Belus mean, Ramose?" she asked, awaking from her silence.
"Do you believe in these prophecies of his?"

"I am not sure, Myra. Sometimes I believe and sometimes I do not.
Certainly some of them seem to have come true; but this may be by
chance, for a wise physician who watches all things and has great
knowledge of the hearts of men, cannot always read the future wrong,
whether or not the stars reveal it to him. At least this last oracle
of his is one of good omen, so let us accept it and be content."

"I am content, Ramose, now that we three are alone together as we were
in Cyprus. Yonder I was not, for it seemed to me there, in your
mother's house, I was like a bird in a cage or one about whom a net
was being drawn."

"Why should my mother wish to play the spider to you?" I asked
disturbed.

"I do not know, Ramose. Perhaps because she is jealous of me; perhaps
because she wishes to use me who am called your daughter--always of
late she speaks of me as your daughter when there are any to listen,
as she did to Pharaoh--to advance your fortunes and her own. I say I
do not know, but believe me, so it was; also that at the last she
would have prevented me from coming here, aye and might have done so
had it not been for Metep who outwitted her, how I will not tell you
now for the tale is long. It is enough that to-night at last I am free
and once more with you and Belus as we were at Salamis. Yet I pray
you, Ramose, set a guard about this house that free I may remain, and
near to you."

"Do you then desire always to remain near to me, Myra?"

"Aye, Ramose."

"You know that you are not my daughter, Myra, and indeed no kin of
mine, whatever my mother or others may say."

"Aye, Ramose, I know it."

"Do you know, also, Myra, that it is hard for a man to dwell with such
a one as you are who is not his daughter, and not to wish that she
were even more than his daughter? Yes, that it is very hard, though it
may chance that in years he might almost be her father?"

Myra sat up upon the seat, gripping the edge of it with her hands and
glancing at me sideways, which things I could see in the twilight.

"Why is it hard? What do you mean, Ramose?" she asked in a low voice.

As she spoke the great moon appeared from a bank of cloud, her rays
making a path of silver across the broad waters of the Nile and the
cultivated land, flooding the pillared portico and striking upon the
beautiful girl who sat at my side, her beast heaving, her lips parted.
I gazed at her and of a sudden passion took hold of me. Yes, passion
in its strength, and I knew that above all earthly things I desired
her no longer as a daughter and a friend, but as my wife; yes, to be
all my own.

"I mean, Myra," I answered, "I mean that I love you."

"This you have always done, Ramose."

"Aye, but now I love you in another fashion. Do you not understand?"

"I think I understand, Ramose."

"I suppose that it has been so for long, Myra. But to be plain I have
been ashamed to tell you so, who was a man grown when you were but a
babe. I have feared, Myra, lest if I did, you should hold it to be
your duty to give yourself to me, not because of the hunger of your
heart, but because it was I who asked it of you, to me, a man whose
hair begins to grow grey upon his temples."

She smiled a little; the moonlight showed it; a somewhat mysterious
smile such as is to be seen upon the carven faces of sphinxes, which
told of secret thoughts hidden behind her eyes.

"You who are so wise, in some ways were ever foolish, Ramose," she
answered and once more was silent, words that left me wondering,
though in substance they did but repeat what Belus had said that
morning.

Thrice I tried to speak, and thrice I failed, while still she watched
me with that dreaming smile upon her face. At last in poor, bald
syllables the common question broke from my lips.

"Myra, though I have seen some eight and thirty summers, can you love
me as your husband?"

Very slowly she turned her head and now I saw that her cheeks glowed
and that her wonderful dark eyes swam with tears. She strove to answer
and in turn, failed. Then she took another road, sinking upon my heart
and lifting her lips towards my own.

It was done. My arms were about her, her head rested on my shoulder.

"Oh! Ramose," she sobbed, "for all these years since I became woman,
how could you be so blind?"



                              CHAPTER XI

                          THE BURIAL OF APIS

Of the rest of what passed between Myra and myself upon that night of
joy nothing need be told. By degrees, stripped of all the trappings
with which we mortals veil the truth, our love stood revealed in
perfect beauty. It seemed that ever since she had come to womanhood
Myra had desired to be to me all that woman can to man, and yet had so
hid her secret that I guessed it not. It seemed, too, that as she
loved me, so I had loved her and yet had buried that love beneath a
hill of forms and self-deceiving falsehoods, pretending that I looked
upon her only as a daughter and a ward given to me of heaven. But now
the screens were down and behind them, pure and beautiful, appeared
the naked truth.

At last we parted, but not before it was agreed between us that we
would be wed at once; on the morrow if it might be, though this was
doubtful, because for such a marriage formalities were needed,
especially in the case of a man like myself upon whom many eyes were
set, a man in whose veins royal blood was known to run. Moreover she
who was to be my bride had been commonly reputed to be my daughter and
as to this the truth must be registered by all of us before certain
public officers, and in particular by myself, by Belus and by the old
nurse, Metep, which matters would take time.

In truth they took longer than I thought, for stir as I would in the
business three days went by before all was completed, because those
who had to deal with them deemed it necessary to obtain the seal of a
certain officer acknowledging that Myra was my ward, which officer was
absent from Memphis.

I have named that night of betrothal and revelation a night of joy;
yet it was not altogether so for the reason that nothing can be quite
perfect on the earth. At length all was finished. We had told our
tales, our last kiss was given and Myra had glided away to her
chamber, turning again and again to look upon me. I stood alone in the
portico leaning against a column and gazing upon the glory of the full
moon shining over Nile. Of what did it remind me? Suddenly I
remembered. It reminded me of just such a night as this when, long
years ago, I and another woman seated amid ruined columns, had looked
upon the moon shining over Nile and beneath her beams had kissed and
clung. A shadow passed before me and to my strained sense almost it
seemed as though it were the wraith of Atyra considering me with
reproachful eyes.

If so, why should she reproach me who for all these years because of
her had stood apart from woman, she who drew me into trouble when I
was but a lad, and perished through the fierce jealousy of her
ministers?

Oh! this was foolishness, yet the folly wore a cloak of fear. What if
the new love told beneath the moon looking down on Nile, should also
end in blood and terror, as did the old love told beneath the moon
looking down on that same Nile? Nay, Belus had prophesied that it
would not be so, and I put faith in Belus. Yet there the shadow moved,
not beyond the columns, but in my heart, a shadow shaped of memories.



The forms were filled, the priest-lawyer from the temple of Thoth had
written the marriage contract whereunder I settled the half of all I
had on Myra, everything was prepared and Myra had left me. As she had
no parents or other relatives from whom I could come to claim her as a
bride, according to custom in case of maidens of high birth, she had
been conducted with her woman, Metep the old nurse, to the temple of
Hathor where she would spend the night in the care of priestesses.
Here it was agreed, I must present myself at sunrise upon the
following morning to name her my wife before the altar of Hathor and
in the presence of the servants of the goddess.

She parted from me somewhat disturbed, reminding me that since she was
an infant she had never slept away from the shelter of my roof, save
when we were together upon a ship or in my mother's house, which was
also my own, and that it seemed to her an evil thing that she should
do so now.

I laughed away her fears, answering that on the morrow she would
return and that thenceforward we should be together until death.

When Myra had gone I bethought me that I must ask my mother to be
present at our marriage. Indeed it had been my wish to speak to her of
this matter before, but when I said as much to Myra, she prayed me not
to do so in such an earnest fashion that I let the business be. For
the same reason I dismissed the thought which had come to me that
instead of sleeping at the temple of Hathor, Myra should pass the
night before our marriage at my mother's house. Yet now when she had
gone to the temple in charge of the priestesses, to that house I went,
knowing that it would seem strange if my mother were not present at
the ceremony, also that she would be angry if she were not asked and
think that Myra had wished to affront her.

Coming to the house, I entered, for the door was open, and went
straight to the large chamber where my mother always sat. It was
empty, nor could I find her in any other room. Thinking that she must
be in the garden, I set out to search for her there, and on my way met
an old woman who had been her servant for many years, from the time
indeed when she dwelt at the court of Pharaoh Apries, my father.

"Where is the lady Chloe and where is everybody?" I asked.

"Oh! my lord Ramose," she answered, "I do not know where they are now,
but some days ago the lady Chloe and the most of the household went
away up Nile in a big boat, or perhaps they went in two boats."

"Up Nile! When, and what for?"

"I can't quite remember when, lord Ramose, for now that I am old my
memory grows weak, but it may have been two days, or three; no, I
think that it was four. As to why they went I am not certain, but it
must have been for a great reason because they were all so finely
dressed, the lady Chloe, my mistress, in beautiful clothes, such as
she used to wear at the court of Sais; also the jewels and chains that
Pharaoh Apries gave to her. Oh! she looked fine, lord Ramose, so fine
that it rejoiced my heart to see her and made me think of the good
days when she was the loveliest lady of the court and Pharaoh used to
kiss her hand; yes, and her lips also."

"Have done," I said angrily. "Why did my mother go up Nile? Tell me,
old fool, or it shall be the worse for you."

"Be not wrath, lord," she said, shrinking from me as though she feared
that I might strike her. "I am but a slave who must do the bidding of
my mistress and keep her secrets, lest it should be the worse for me."

"Nay, woman, you must do my bidding. The truth now, or you go to those
who know how to wring it from you."

"Lord," she said in a great fright, "I will tell all I know; it is but
little. Two mornings ago the lady Chloe and her servants sailed up
Nile to meet Pharaoh who had summoned her and sent barges to convey
her to him. Why she went to meet Pharaoh, I could not tell you, though
you were to beat me with rods till I died."

When I saw that she knew no more, I left her and sought out other
servants of my mother's on whom I wasted much time in useless
questionings, for these seemed to know even less than did the old
woman. So at last, weary and perplexed, I returned home and finding
Belus, told him all I had learned, asking him if he could understand
its meaning.

"It seems plain," he answered. "Your mother has gone to meet Pharaoh
by appointment and to discuss certain private matters, but what these
may be is known to the gods alone."

"Still, can you guess them, Belus?"

"Yes, I can guess that they have to do with Myra. Remember, Ramose,
that it still pleases both your mother and Pharaoh to talk of Myra as
your daughter."

"If so, what of it?"

"Only this: that then she is one who can be given in marriage."

"Not so, Belus; at least if she were my daughter I alone could give
her in marriage."

"Pharaoh is the father of all and can give any in marriage to whom he
will," answered Belus darkly.

Then he thought a while and added, "Save those who are already
married, as Myra will be to-morrow. I would that it had been to-day,
or better still a year gone, so that she held an infant in her arms.
In this matter, Ramose, you have been too slow and lost time cannot be
found again. Still, fret not, for to-morrow all will be righted."

Then upon some pretext or other he left me, as I felt sure because he
did not wish to talk more of this matter. Often since that day I have
wondered how much Belus knew or guessed of the calamity that overhung
us.

I slept but ill that night, for the shadow of this unknown calamity
lay dark upon my soul. Evil dreams came to me, in many shapes, yet the
purport of each was the same--namely that I woke to find myself quite
alone in the world. To and fro I walked in a desolate valley, stopping
now and again to call on the name of Myra for whom I sought, but
always from the cliffs which shut that valley in, echo repeated--Myra,
Myra, Myra--and that was all.

Before the dawn I rose and dressed myself finely for the marriage.
Then, accompanied by Belus and two running footmen, I entered my
chariot and drove to the temple of Hathor. Leaving the chariot at the
gate in charge of the footmen, we were admitted by priests who waited
to lead us to the inner shrine. Here we stood a while, till presently
we heard the sound of singing. Then from a side chapel appeared
priestesses, eight or ten of them, accompanied by choristers and
musicians who played upon harps and other instruments. In the centre
of this throng, a veil thrown over her head and carrying flowers in
her hand, was Myra, at the sight of whom my heart leapt.

She came, she stood at my side. The high-priest asked certain
questions. Then at his bidding I took her hand and set upon her finger
a piece of golden ring-money in token that I endowed her with my
goods, announcing also that I took her to be my wife, as she too
announced that she took me to be her husband. This done the high-
priest blessed us in the name of Hathor and other gods, while a
priestess was sent to the top of the temple pylon to call out to the
heavens that we were wed.

Now all was finished and Metep, her old nurse, led Myra to the door of
the sanctuary there to await my coming. I stayed a while to thank the
priests and priestesses, and the musicians, also to direct Belus to
double the customary fees, and make a special offering to the temple.

These things he did, taking the weighed gold from a bag which he had
brought with him, slowly enough, as I thought. Then the treasurer of
the temple, an aged, formal fool, must needs detain us while he
re-weighed the gold and wrote an acknowledgement of my gift upon
sheepskin.

At last when all was done, we parted from the priests with farewells
and bowings and hurried to join Myra. At the gateway of the temple we
found her waiting with Metep. She greeted me with a sweet smile, for
now her veil was gone and she wore a long cloak over her bridal robes.

Yet there was that on her face which caused me to ask if aught were
amiss.

"Nothing, husband," she said, hesitating at the word. "Yet, let us
depart, for I see officers of Pharaoh's guard waiting beyond the outer
gates and the doorkeeper has told Metep that they seek you."

"Well, what of it?" I said. "I have had much business with Pharaoh of
late and doubtless he would learn something of me, though indeed I did
not know that he had returned to Memphis."

So Myra and I entered the chariot, Belus walking by its side, and
crossed the courtyard to the pylon gates which were opened for us. On
the further side of them we were stopped by an officer of Pharaoh's
guard, a man whom I knew. He saluted, saying,

"Well found, Count Ramose! I sought you at your home and was told that
you were gone with your daughter to worship in the temple of Hathor at
this early hour----" here he glanced at Myra who had hidden her face
in her hood, and smiled.

I was about to answer that Myra was not my daughter, but my wife, when
he stopped me, waving his hand.

"Your pardon, Count, but my errand permits of no delay. Pharaoh has
returned to Memphis and being much pressed for time because of
business that awaits him at Sais, has gone on at once to attend the
ceremony of the burial of the Apis god at the tomb of the bulls, three
leagues away, whence he departs this very night for Sais. Meanwhile he
must see you and the learned Belus also, to hear your report
concerning the works in your charge at Memphis, to give you certain
instructions, and to consult with you upon other matters. I have
horses here upon which you can mount, both of you."

"But I cannot come," I said angrily. "I have business that keeps me
here."

Now that officer from some hiding-place about his person drew a gold
ring and held it before my eyes.

"You are learned, Count Ramose," he said, "and can read the old
Egyptian writing. Tell me, whose name and title are on this ring?"

I glanced at it. It was a signet of Amasis, the same, I think, that he
wore himself, for I had noted it upon his hand.

"That of Pharaoh," I answered.

"Yes, Count, and how comes it that I, who am but an officer of the
guard, bear Pharaoh's seal? I will tell you. It has been given to me
to teach you that I speak with Pharaoh's voice. You must come with me
and at once, likewise the learned Belus."

I stared at the man whom I knew to be no liar, and thought a while.
The matter must be great and urgent that caused Pharaoh to summon me
in this fashion. Doubtless he needed my counsel and that of Belus,
upon some high business. Or it might have to do with the accursed Apis
calf which had been born amongst my herd, that now would take the
place of the old bull god they buried this day in the tomb of bulls.
Or it might be something else.

With a pang of fear I remembered certain words which Amasis had spoken
when he was, or feigned to be drunk at my mother's feast, threatening
to make an end of me because in me ran the true royal blood of Egypt.
What if he were decoying me into the desert purposing that thence I
should return no more? A while ago the risk would not have moved me
over much, a man who from year to year and from day to day strove to
prepare himself to leave the world and enter some unknown house of
Life, or if there were none, to dwell for ever in the abodes of Sleep.

But now, how could I dare it whose new-made bride stood by me clothed
in love and beauty, making death terrible? I would not go. Surely I
could escape from this man and flee with Myra. My chariot stood yonder
drawn by horses as swift as any known in Egypt. We would leap into it
and flee away to hiding-places I knew of, and thence pass to foreign
lands beyond the sea.

Thus seized with panic, the shadow perchance of evils to come, I
thought rapidly, but as I suppose, something of what passed within my
mind wrote itself upon my face. At least that officer smiled and said,

"Look not at your sword, Count, nor at your chariot. You may kill me,
but my men wait without; or you may flee, but you will be hunted down.
Know that my orders are to bring you to Pharaoh alive or dead, and
Belus the physician with you."

Now Myra, who all this while had been listening intently with a frozen
face, broke in saying,

"Go, Ramose, lest a worse thing befall us. I will await your return in
our home."

"Captain," I said, "we obey the command of Pharaoh, bringing this lady
with us."

"My commands were to escort you and Belus to the presence of the king,
but no other," he answered coldly.

Then Belus spoke for the first time, saying,

"None can fight against fate and what are Pharaoh's orders but the
voice of fate? Also often we must reach our end by long and crooked
paths."

Here he turned to Myra and added, "Be not afraid. That end will be
reached. Remember what I saw some nights gone in the water of the
bowl, and the words which my spirit then set between my lips, for I
think that they are in the way of fulfilment. Look, the lily which
once turned black beneath the spell, now lies white upon your breast
embalmed in crystal. White it shall remain, Myra, white as your body
and your soul. Do you understand?"

"I understand," she answered faintly in a voice that was full of
tears.

I went to her, I kissed her, whispered that we should meet again
unharmed, for God was good and Belus could not lie. Then I bade Metep
her nurse to lead her to the chariot and bide with her day and night
till I returned. They went and when they were gone I accompanied the
officer like a man in a swoon, seeing nothing but the last glance of
mingled love and fear that Myra gave me as the chariot vanished behind
the temple pylon.



We mounted on horses and surrounded by an escort, rode through the
gardens of Memphis and across the sands beyond, to the great
necropolis where for thousands of years the nobles and gentlefolk of
Egypt had been buried in the consecrated land. Passing through streets
of their holy tombs we came at last to a temple that stood near to the
mouth of the great caverns wherein are hid away the bones of the Apis
bulls, outside of which temple flew the banner of Pharaoh surrounded
by a guard of soldiers. We were led into this temple where a ceremony
was in progress conducted by the priests of the god Ptah. It was very
long, made up of rites which however gorgeous, to me were but
mummeries, ending in a kind of sacramental feast whereat all of us
from Pharaoh down, must touch with our lips a broth compounded from
the flesh of the dead Apis, the smell of which broth--for taste it I
did not--revolted me.

At last this rite was over and I thought that now I should be able to
have speech with Pharaoh and be gone. Not so, however, for immediately
a procession was formed in which a place was assigned to me as one
specially favoured of the gods, because the new Apis had been found
among my cattle. Accompanied by Belus I marched in it, preceded by
Pharaoh, his great officers and the high-priests of Ptah and of
Osiris, and surrounded by singers with other priests and nobles.

We entered the mouth of a mighty cavern and descended into the bowels
of the earth, marching through stifling heat down lamplit passages
hewn in the solid rock. Passing many walled-up chapels we came at
length to one which was open. Here stood a huge sarcophagus that
contained the mummied bones of the dead Apis. Now began more
ceremonies which to me seemed to be without end, though what they were
I cannot say, because from where I stood in the passage little could
be seen of them; also the horrible heat of the place overcame me in
such fashion that I could take note of nothing.

When all was finished Pharaoh, weighed down with royal and priestly
robes and ornaments, marched past me, or rather was carried in a chair
looking like a man asleep, and we followed him as best we might, till
at length we struggled from that hole into the light and once more
breathed the blessed air.

Now I asked to be led to the royal presence, but was told that this
was impossible because Pharaoh was resting. Later I was told that
Pharaoh was eating and later still that he was asleep, being overcome
with fatigue and wine. Then we were taken to a pavilion where food,
that I could scarcely touch, was given to us, and afterwards night
having fallen, to a tent where we must sleep. Here we lay down because
there was nothing else to do and guards who tramped up and down
without, made escape impossible. Thus, tossing to and fro, bewailing
my fortune and unable so much as to close my eyes, did I pass what
should have been my bridal night, racked with doubts and fears and, in
my heart, cursing Apis as never god was cursed before.

The sun rose at length but even then we were not allowed to leave the
tent, why I could not discover. At last came a herald who told me that
Pharaoh had departed long before dawn, almost alone that he might
avoid the heat and dust made by a great company, and that he bade me
and Belus to follow after him.

Then I understood that for some unknown reason I was a prisoner.

We followed because we must, but it was not until we reached Sais
after long days of journeying, that we were allowed to overtake
Pharaoh. There on the following morning he received us in a private
apartment of the palace, in which it seemed that he was wont to hide
himself away when wearied with matters of the state, or with quarrels
in his household.

We were led to this apartment and at its door I shrank back in horror,
for it was the same in which years before I had seen the Queen Atyra
lying dead upon her couch. Yes, although the furnishings were
different, without doubt it was the same. There was the spot where her
cloak had lain upon the floor hiding the bloodstain; there was the
window-place out of which with the strength of madness I had cast that
murderer, the priest Ninari.

My heart stood still, my limbs tottered so that I was like to fall.
Why had I been brought to this place of evil omen? Was it a trick of
Pharaoh's who knew what memories it held for me? Or was I led by the
hand of fate that here, where had died the lover of my youth, I too
must give up my breath? My mind reeled; visions appeared before me. I
could have sworn that I saw Atyra in all her loveliness standing
yonder waiting to receive me in her outstretched arms. Then I heard
Belus whispering in my ear,

"Be a man! Out of this chamber once you passed from peril to freedom
and happiness, and so you shall again. Come, Pharaoh waits us."

I found strength and comfort in these words, qualities that have ever
flowed to me from the strong soul of Belus. My mind cleared, I was
myself again. By the window-place looking out on the peaceful garden,
sat Pharaoh Amasis with a table before him upon which were writings, a
jug of wine with drinking goblets, and his sword which he had
unbuckled, for as usual he wore the dress of a general. For the rest
he seemed to be quite alone, though doubtless guards and others were
waiting within call in the chamber through which Ninari had entered to
wreak his vengeance.

Pharaoh looked up and saw us.

"Enter, Count, and physician--or magician--Belus," he cried in his
hearty voice. "Enter; be seated without ceremony, and drink a cup of
wine with me, for if I may judge by myself, you must be thirsty after
toiling northwards in the summer sun."

We bowed and obeyed, seating ourselves upon two stools that had been
placed for us, as I noted at a distance from the table. Then Pharaoh
filled three of the goblets with wine and signed to Belus to take two
of them, while he kept the third and drank a little from it, as though
to show us that the wine was not poisoned. Yet, as I thought, this
told us nothing, seeing that the venom might have been placed in our
cups which after the Grecian fashion, were made of gold.

"Now," he said, "let us drink to better times, for know that these are
bad indeed for Egypt."

So we drank who had no choice, I wondering whether presently I should
feel my vitals twisting in agony. But this did not happen. Indeed the
wine was of the best and heartened me.

"Ramose," went on Pharaoh setting down his cup, "I fear that you will
be angry with me who have dragged you after me upon this long journey.
Well, I did it because I must, who wished to speak to you privately
and to Belus also, after I had returned to Sais and heard what the
tidings were from the lands beyond Egypt. By all the gods they are
dark enough. Cyrus the Persian has conquered Lydia and threatens
Babylon where rules that old fool, Nabonidus, who thinks of nothing
but the repairing of temples and the statues of ancient gods, which he
drags from the cities that worship them to set them up in Babylon
where he can see and prate about them. Still he is powerful, for there
is his son, Belshazzar, that fierce man, and Babylon is yet mighty and
a high wall built between Cyrus and his Persians and Egypt. Therefore
it is necessary to make a friend of Nabonidus as he desires to make a
friend of us, to which end I have made an offering that I think will
please him."

He paused and Belus, eyeing him sharply, asked,

"Will Pharaoh be so gracious as to tell us what offering he has made?"

"Let the matter be," said Amasis waving his hand. "In this high
business it is scarcely worth mentioning further than to say that
dotards like Nabonidus are pleased with trifles. Now I turn to a
bigger business, that of Cyrus who it may be in the end will conquer
Babylon and become a mighty monarch whom Egypt must fear, lest he
should seek to seize her also. Therefore it is necessary that I should
learn the mind of this Persian. Do you not understand that it is most
necessary, Ramose?" he added, staring at me.

I bowed, answering that I did.

"I am glad," exclaimed Amasis, "for know that it is my purpose to send
you to the court of Cyrus to make inquiry into all these matters and
report to me?"

"Must I go as your envoy, Pharaoh? Or if not, in what condition?" I
asked, seeking to gain time while I weighed this command in my mind.

"I think not as my envoy, Ramose, for then Cyrus would suspect you;
also is not Ramose too well known as one of the royal blood of Egypt
openly to play this part? Nay, under some false name you might travel
as a great merchant trafficking between Cyprus and Egypt, as indeed
you have been, to make complaint to Cyrus of losses that you have
sustained through the conquest of Cyprus by Egypt, and to sound his
mind as to its seizure by the Persians after the conquest of Babylon;
yes, and that of Egypt also. But all this would be for his secret ear.
Publicly you would pretend that you were sent by me, Pharaoh, to open
trade between Egypt and Persian, or rather by my vizier from whom you
would hold letters of commendation which you must use to cover your
secret plottings against Egypt. Thus Cyrus may be led into revealing
secrets which having learned, you will return and tell to me. Do you
understand, Ramose?"

"I understand," I said, "who am no fool, but one acquainted with the
languages and the trade customs of the East. Yet pardon me, Pharaoh.
For my own private reasons I do not wish to undertake this mission.
Least of all do I wish to do so, not as an ambassador but in the guise
of a spy."

Pharaoh rose from his chair and stared at me.

"Count Ramose," he said, "you told me just now that you are no fool,
but I begin to think that in this you are mistaken, who do not seem to
know when you have received an order, or what is the penalty of
defying the command of Pharaoh. I hear that you have bought a
beautiful palace in Memphis, one which in the old days was inhabited
by princes of the royal blood. Do you wish to dwell in it, Ramose,
after a certain mission has been accomplished, or would you choose to
remain here and sleep at Sais--till the day of resurrection?"

Now understanding that I must submit or die, I made obeisance and
said,

"Pharaoh's will is mine. What Pharaoh commands, that I do. But first I
ask leave to travel to Memphis to settle my affairs and to bid
farewell to my mother."

"It is granted," said Pharaoh, yawning as though he were weary of this
talk. "For the rest my vizier and officers will instruct you in your
mission and make provision. Remember, Ramose, that if you serve me
well in this matter, after you return there will be few greater men in
Egypt. Yes, you shall sit upon the steps of the throne."

We reached the door when a thought struck me. I turned and said,

"And what of Belus, O Pharaoh?"

"I spoke to both of you," answered Amasis, "knowing well that for
these many years you have never been apart, that one of you completes
the other. Also when two go forth upon a mission one may die and the
other live to carry on the work; whereas if but one goes, all is
finished with his passing breath. Farewell."



                             CHAPTER XII

                                GONE!

Twelve days had gone by when travelling in one of Pharaoh's ships,
Belus and I drew near to Memphis which we hoped to reach that
afternoon. For seven of those days we had been detained at Sais,
though we saw Pharaoh no more. Indeed, perhaps that we might not do
so, he quitted the city upon business or pleasure of his own, but
commands reached us to await the visits of his vizier and other high
officers, and from them to receive instructions with secret letters
for Cyrus, the King of the Persians. Also preparations must be made
for a long journey across the desert to the city of Susa where it was
said that Cyrus dwelt when he rested from his wars.

Now although Belus and I pressed all these matters forward, they could
not be accomplished quickly; almost it seemed to us as though
Pharaoh's officers had orders to hasten slowly, so that only a little
was accomplished each day or sometimes nothing at all. At length,
however, when I was driven almost to madness, we were allowed to
depart for Memphis where it was settled that all which was necessary
should be prepared for our mission. For I must tell that during those
days in Sais in truth though not in name, we were prisoners, confined
to our quarters in the palace and visited only by the servants of
Pharaoh.

But at last we drew near to the great city and within a few hours I
hoped to clasp Myra my bride in my arms. Yet I was troubled, I knew
not why. Dark fears took hold of me, of I knew not what, nor could I
win any comfort from Belus who also seemed oppressed with gloom or
forebodings. The journey which we had been forced to make to Sais was
strange. Why could not Pharaoh have issued his commands to me here at
Memphis, instead of drawing me after him for so many weary days that
he might speak to me once in his palace at Sais? And why had he asked
me nothing of the work that he had bidden me carry out upon the temple
of Ptah? Were those works but a pretext to keep me where he could lay
his hand upon me?

In the end, when I could contain myself no longer, I put these and
other questions to Belus.

"Ramose," he said, "I cannot answer you. Yet I will tell you what is
in my mind. I think that Pharaoh is afraid of you and for some reason
of his own desires to be rid of you, which is why he sends you upon
this distant and dangerous embassy."

"Then he might have caused me to be killed here in Egypt, Belus."

"Nay, that he could not do, for you have served with him and he has
eaten your bread. On these matters Amasis may still have the
conscience of a soldier and a guest. Moreover, your blood is known and
if you were murdered, your death would look very evil and would bring
trouble on him. For would it not be said that he had made away with
you because you stood too near the throne? But on such journeys as
that which lies before us many accidents happen, and if under a false
name you died far away from Egypt who would trouble? Also consider
this business. You are to go to Cyrus and play a double part,
pretending to be an envoy from Egypt loyal to its king, and yet
working against Egypt and its king, because of some private merchant's
grudge which has to do with her conquest of Cyprus. Now when Cyrus
discovers this, or it is revealed to him by other messengers, may he
not grow suspicious and bring you to death or throw you into prison,
especially if he learns that Pharaoh would not grieve if you returned
no more?"

"It is so and I mistrust this embassy," I answered with a groan.

"Aye, Ramose, it is so. Yet I say to you, have no fear, for I am sure
you will come safely through these troubles, as you have through
others."

"That is good news, Belus. But what of Myra? How can I leave her at
Memphis alone and unprotected?"

"You cannot, Ramose, she must accompany you, disguised if need be.
Once out of Egypt there are other lands where we might shelter."

I remember no more of this talk, for just then we drew near to the
quay and my burning desire to see Myra caused me to forget all else.

We landed and hiring a chariot drove swiftly to the Happy House where
surely she would be awaiting me.

Now we were passing its gates and it seemed to me that there was
something strange and unfriendly about the aspect of the place. There
was the roofed and columned terrace where Myra and I had kissed as
lovers, but it was empty. There were the large doors of sycamore wood,
but they were shut, not open as they had been in the daytime since I
owned that house. I knocked on them and presently heard them being
unbolted by someone within. They opened and there appeared a man, a
faithful Cypriote steward who had served me at Salamis.

"Where is the lady Myra?" I asked. "Bring me to her."

"I cannot, lord," he answered awkwardly, staring at me as though I
were a ghost. "She has gone."

"Gone!" I gasped. "Whither has she gone? Speak, man, or by Amen I'll
make you silent for ever."

"I do not know, lord. On that day when you went out at dawn, she
returned early to the house with the woman Metep, saying that you had
been summoned away and that she awaited you. Towards midday came the
lady Chloe, your mother, and with her a number of men who wore
Pharaoh's badge, also some women very finely dressed. The lady your
mother and the men talked with the lady Myra apart, but what passed
between them I do not know. The end of it was that she left the house
with them, much against her will, I think, for she was weeping, and
was driven away in a chariot accompanied by Metep. We, your servants,
were angry and disturbed, and would have kept her by force, had she
not said hurriedly that a command had reached her from you that she
must obey your lady mother in all things, and therefore she went,
though she liked the business little and of it could understand
nothing. So she went, lord, and that is all, except that we heard
afterwards that she had departed down Nile in great state upon one of
Pharaoh's ship. No, not quite all, lord, for a lad whom I do not know,
brought a letter which, he said, a woman called Metep had given him to
be delivered to you if you returned to the house. Here it is," and
from his robe he drew out a roll roughly tied up with a piece of palm
fibre.

Like a man in a dream I undid the roll, saw that the writing within
was in Greek and short and quickly penned. It ran thus:--


 "To Ramose, my husband most beloved,

 "I am being taken away down Nile, and as I understand to some
  distant country, by Pharaoh's officers. Your mother swears to me
  that this is by your wish and for my own good; also that you await
  me oversea, but I do not believe her. I would kill myself, were it
  not that Belus foretold to me that whatever troubles overtook me,
  all would be well at last. Fear nothing, for know that I will
  surely die rather than break my vows to you, because in death we
  shall meet again. Follow me, Ramose; the wisdom of Belus will
  teach you how, and find me, or my bones. I write this on the ship
  as we sail. Metep has found a messenger. Farewell, beloved Ramose;
  there is no time for more. Farewell.

                                                         "Myra."


I finished reading and gave the writing to Belus. Then in a cold voice
that did not sound like my own, I said to the man,

"You are steward here, guard this place well, for it may be that I
shall have to go upon a long journey. You have moneys of mine in your
hands and more will be paid to you by my debtors and tenants as they
fall due. Use them on my behalf. I trust all to you, but be sure that
if you fail me, it shall go ill with you."

"I will not fail you, lord," he answered, the tears springing to his
eyes, for he was a most honest and faithful man, "but oh! leave us not
alone."

"That I must do for a while," I answered, and went.

"Where to?" said Belus as we entered the chariot which still stood at
the door.

"My mother's house," I replied.

Soon, too soon, we were there.

"Would you not wish to see the lady Chloe alone?" asked Belus, who, I
think, feared what I might say or do.

"No," I answered. "It seems that the lady Chloe cannot be trusted;
therefore it is well that a witness should be present."

So he came with me unwillingly enough. We found my mother alone in her
large chamber seated in a throne-like chair and very finely dressed.
Indeed, she wore upon her beautiful head the little circlet of gold
from which rose an ornament that might well have been an uraeus, that
mark of royalty which she said Amasis had given her leave to bear, all
of which showed me that she was expecting a visit from someone, though
who it might be I never learned. Certainly it was not from me.

"Greetings, dear Ramose," she said confusedly. "I did not hope to see
you. I--I understood that, that you had gone upon a journey on
Pharaoh's business."

As she spoke she came forward as though to embrace me, but something
in my face caused her to change her mind, for she shrank back and sat
herself down again in the chair. I looked at her for a little while,
thinking to myself that her words revealed that she knew the mind of
Amasis as to my mission, which perhaps she had herself inspired.

"Why do you look at me so strangely?" she faltered.

"Where is my wife?" I asked slowly.

"Your wife! Have you a wife, Ramose? Surely you have not wed without
telling me, your mother?"

"Where is my wife, Myra?" I repeated. "What have you done with her?"

"Oh! you mean your daughter, Myra, though you call her your wife in
error. Why, as I thought you knew, she has left Egypt to become a
queen. You must be very proud, Ramose, that your daughter should
become a queen, as of course I am."

"Whose queen?" I asked.

"The queen of a very great king, perhaps the greatest in the world
after Pharaoh--Nabonidus, Lord of Babylon."

"How comes it, Mother, that you have stolen away her whom you call my
daughter, though you know well that she is not my daughter but my
wife, to be forced into marriage with this old dotard of Babylon?
Answer me and swiftly."

"I tell you that I thought you knew, Son. Also it was Pharaoh's will.
The great king Nabonidus has sent one of his daughters to be wed to
Pharaoh, as you will have heard, demanding in return a royal princess
of Egypt to be his wife, the old queen of Babylon being dead, and
Pharaoh wishes to make a close alliance with Nabonidus, so that
Babylon and Egypt may stand shoulder to shoulder against Cyrus the
Persian, should he threaten either of them."

Now in a flash all became clear to me, for I remembered the words of
Amasis at Sais as to making a gift to Nabonidus, also how he had eyed
Myra at the feast my mother made to him and asked her if she would not
like to shine in a royal court. Lastly I remembered how my mother had
slipped away up Nile to meet Pharaoh upon secret business. With a wave
of my hand I stopped her talk, saying:

"Hearken while I set out this matter more clearly, I think, than you
can do, Lady. Afterwards you can tell me if I have done so well. Does
it not stand thus? Amasis, wishing to please Nabonidus and bind
Babylon to Egypt, desired to send to him a royal princess to be his
wife or woman. You may remember that he spoke of it at your table,
grieving that there was no such princess who could be sent. Thereafter
you and Amasis made a plot to rape away Myra, pretending that she was
my daughter and that in her therefore ran some of the royal blood of
the Pharaohs, although you knew well that she was not my daughter."

"I did not know, Ramose. I thought that you--lied to me on that
matter, wishing to hide some sin of your youth."

"Who as you knew well was not my daughter," I repeated, "for often I
told you so, as you knew that I took her to wife on that same day when
owing to your plottings, Pharaoh dragged me after him to Sais, so that
this woman-theft might be carried out in my absence."

My mother muttered something and began to wipe her eyes, while I went
on,

"As soon as Belus and I were trapped after the marriage in the temple
of Hathor, you loosed Pharaoh's dogs upon this defenceless girl, new
made a wife; yes, you tore her, whom you hate, away and set her on
Pharaoh's ship alone save for her old nurse."

"I deny it," she cried.

"Deny it if you will, but know that your spies did not watch her close
enough. Here is the story in her own writing," and I held out the open
roll.

Then my mother crouched down upon the seat, her elbows on her knees,
her head upon her hands and listened, hiding her face from me.

"So she has gone," I said, "she, my wife whom I have reared from
childhood, she whom I love better than all the world, better than my
life, better than my soul; she has gone to become the plaything of an
Eastern king--nay, to death, for that she will never be, it is written
here," and I tapped the roll. "You have murdered her, as you, my
mother, have murdered me, for be sure that if I find her dead, swiftly
I shall follow after her to where there is justice, or sleep."

"Spare me, Ramose," my mother cried. "Whatever I did was for the best,
for the glory of this proud girl who will be a queen--yes, a queen,
and for your sake whom Pharaoh will advance and indeed already has
advanced. Aye, and--for I will tell the truth--because I would be rid
of her who has stolen your love from me. Did she not make you leave my
house that you might live alone with her, and has she not built a high
wall betwixt us over which we cannot climb, so that you, my only
child, whom for years I thought dead, are now lost to me again?"

"If so," I answered, "in your hatred and vanity you have added to that
wall till now it reaches from earth to heaven. For the rest, what you
did was for your own sake and not for mine. What Amasis has paid you
for this treason I do not know, or wish to learn. Perchance he has
given you high rank such as pertains to the widows of kings who do not
happen to be royal" (here she started, for this arrow had gone home),
"or he has endowed you with great wealth and many titles. Let that
matter be. Whatever you have gained, learn that you have lost a son.
Were you not my mother, I think that I should kill you. As it is I
leave you to be eaten up with your own shame. I do not curse you,
because no man may curse the flesh that bore him; it is unholy. Nay, I
do but leave you.

"Farewell, my mother, upon whose face I hope never to look again. When
as Pharaoh's concubine you caused me to be born, you did me wrong
though mayhap that was decreed. But when you stole from me all I love,
oh! what a crime was that! Perhaps, blinded by a greed for pomp and
vanities, you do not understand, yet one day you will. I go to seek
her of whom you have robbed me, and to find her or to die. Whichever
it may be, for you already I am dead. In this life, or any other, we
are for ever separate."

I turned to leave her with these awful words, now in my old age I know
how awful, echoing in her ears. Suddenly she seemed to awake from her
lethargy. Rising from her seat she sprang upon me, she cast her arms
about me. Sinking upon her knees she dragged me down to her. She
kissed my garments, she babbled words of remorse and woe, she called
me her babe, her darling. I thrust her from me and went. At the door I
looked round to see her lying senseless upon the floor. I wonder did
ever mother and son bid farewell in such a fashion and for such a
cause, or have ever a woman's jealousy and love of empty pomp done a
more evil work. Thus we parted, little guessing where we should meet
again.

That night in a place where we lodged, for to my own house I would not
return, Belus and I debated long and earnestly as to what we should
do. Already he had been at work and learned through secret channels
that were always open to him, who had many bound to him by ties I did
not understand, that Myra had gone down Nile and with Metep had left
Egypt in charge of that same splendid embassy of Babylonian lords and
ladies who had brought the daughter or grand-daughter of Nabonidus to
be a wife to Pharaoh. It seemed that no Egyptians went with her for a
reason that could be guessed. Had they done so they might have talked
and given the Babylonians cause to doubt whether Myra were really a
princess of the blood of Pharaoh, though she was beautiful, wore royal
robes and ornaments and had a regal air.

"Yes," I said to Belus, "but Metep can talk and so can Myra herself."

"Who would pay heed to a serving-woman whose throat can be cut if need
be?" he asked. "As for Myra, doubtless all these plotters think that
pride and desire of royal place will keep her silent; also fear lest
should she be discovered, she would be put to death or made a shame of
as a lying cheat."

"Yet she will speak, Belus."

"Aye, without doubt she will speak and prove all she says. Therein
lies her peril, or mayhap the peril of Amasis against whom Nabonidus
will be enraged, or the peril of both of them."

I wrung my hands who saw many pictures in my mind. Myra doing herself
to death rather than be shamed: Myra being butchered or tortured or
cast to soldiers by a furious Eastern despot: Myra escaping from all
but to fall into the hands of Amasis who would certainly kill her in
his rage, if only to hide his fraud. Yes, and others.

"Truly the gods have set a snare for us," I said.

"That which the gods tie the gods can loose, Ramose. Have faith, for
there is no other crutch upon which to lean. My spirit is silent;
having spoken to me once on that night when the lily that Myra wore
seemed to rot, then grew white again in the water of the bowl, it
speaks no more. Yet then it said that all should end well. Have faith
therefore in my spirit, as I have, lest you should go mad. Come now,
let us make our plans."

Taking such comfort as I could from these high words, I gathered up my
strength that I might think with a clear brain. For long we talked,
seeking light. This was the end of it. There was but one hope of
saving Myra--to follow her whither she had gone. That, as it chanced,
we could do, having wealth at our command and holding Pharaoh's
commission, though in it I was spoken of not by name but only as "the
bearer of these letters."

Under this, it is true, we were ordered to proceed to the court of
Cyrus wherever it might be, but Susa, his capital, could be reached by
way of Babylon, though this was not the shortest road. Therefore,
making no complaint to Amasis as to the fate of Myra, for who can
reproach a king and live? and leaving it to Heaven to avenge that sin
upon him, we determined to proceed at once upon our mission, or so to
pretend.

To be short, this we did. In a few days all was made ready. My wealth
was great and we took with us not only a large sum in gold in addition
to that which Pharaoh provided for the costs of the mission, but also
written letters from my agents which would enable us to obtain money
in the cities of the East. For the rest, discarding an escort we
travelled unattended in the character of merchants desirous of opening
up trade with Persia and other Eastern lands, but having hidden about
us letters from the vizier of Pharaoh to all his agents and officers
throughout the East, commanding these to give us help as it might be
needed; also the secret despatch for Cyrus of which I have spoken,
offering him the friendship of Egypt. Lastly we took other names, I
calling myself Ptahmes, that by which I had been known in Cyprus, for
none guessed that the merchant of Salamis and the Count Ramose were
one man, while Belus once more became Azar, a buyer of Eastern goods.

Thus armed we started upon our search, determined if we lived to
follow Myra wheresoever she might have gone. The question was--whither
had she gone? We learned that the Babylonian embassy to which she had
been given over, had departed to Damascus because it was said that
Nabonidus the King was in that city, making a study of its antiquities
and religion, having left his son Belshazzar to rule in Babylon. So
joining a company of merchants at Pelusium we set out for Damascus.

Here I must tell how I noted at this time that Belus seemed filled
with a strange joy which in such an evil hour I thought almost unholy.

"How comes it that you are glad, when my heart breaks, Belus?" I asked
of him as we left Pelusium.

"Would you know?" he answered. "Then I will tell you; it is because
that call is come of which I spoke to you in past days. In Babylon I
have an enemy who has wrought me worse wrong than any that you suffer.
Now after many years of waiting God gives him into my hand; now at
length I go to be avenged upon him. I know not how, I know only that I
go to be avenged. Ask me no more, Ramose."

I looked at him marvelling, and there was that in his eyes which
counselled me to be silent.



                             CHAPTER XIII

                               BABYLON

Behold us at length in Damascus after weeks of weary travelling
delayed by many accidents, and of suspense that ate up my soul, only
to find that Nabonidus had left this city more than a month before. As
secretly as we might we inquired whether a royal wife from Egypt had
been brought to him while he dwelt there, and by some were told one
thing, and by some another. It seemed certain that an embassy of his,
returned from Egypt, had waited on him in Damascus, for so we were
assured by Pharaoh's agent, a subtle half-bred Syrian, but whether
they brought with them any lady to become one of his household was not
certain. At least on this matter none would speak--least of all the
agent who, we could see, suspected us notwithstanding our letters, for
the Babylonians and their subject peoples held it a kind of sacrilege
even to talk of women appointed to the king. Indeed our inquiries,
veiled though they were, brought suspicion on us and after we had left
Damascus, disaster.

Now having heard that Nabonidus had departed for Seleucia and that the
embassy which came from Egypt had either accompanied, or followed him,
to Seleucia we determined to go, sending a false report to Amasis of
our reasons for so doing. Yet we never reached that place, for when we
were five days journey from Damascus, of a sudden our caravan was
attacked by men who seemed to be Arabs. In the darkness before the
dawn they rushed upon us so that resistance was impossible. In the
confusion Belus and I were separated. I was seized, being felled by a
blow on the head as I was about to draw my sword.

"Bind him!" I heard a voice cry in the Babylonian tongue. "Harm him
not, he is the Egyptian spy who pretends to be a merchant."

So bound I was and lay there among my captors, thankful that my life
had been spared.

The light came and showed the Arabs, if such they were, going off with
their spoil. The merchants with whom we had been travelling were also
departing in a great hurry with what goods had been left to them.
Looking about me I could see no dead, which caused me to think that
the attack had been made either for plunder only, or for some other
hidden purpose. Everywhere I searched for Belus with my eyes, but
could see nothing of him. Certainly he was not among the fleeing
merchants. I was taken to a tent that had been pitched, led by two men
who when they reached it, threw off their Arab robes and revealed
themselves dressed as Babylonian soldiers. In the tent were officers
also of Babylon, and a man whom from his attire I took to be a scribe
or priest. There, too, was my baggage already being examined, though
not that of Belus, here known as Azar.

The officers bowed to me courteously. Then the chief of them said in
the Accadian tongue,

"You take much wealth with you, traveller," and he pointed to the bags
of gold that they had found.

I answered haltingly in the same language, which I pretended to speak
but ill, that I was a merchant journeying to Iran to buy goods from
the Persians.

"Yes," he replied with a grave smile, "we know that you go to deal
with the Persians." Then he nodded to the soldiers who began to remove
my garments.

"It is not needful," I said with dignity, "I admit that I am more than
a merchant. I am also an ambassador from the Pharaoh of Egypt to Cyrus
the great King."

"Indeed," answered the officer. "If that is so, what were you doing in
Damascus making inquiry concerning offerings from Pharaoh to
Nabonidus, king of Babylon? Did Pharaoh, whose ambassador you say you
are, order you to travel to Susa by way of Damascus and Seleucia?
Seeing that Babylon is at war with Persia, it seems a strange road."

Now I pretended not to understand, whereon the officer said sternly,

"Will you deliver up your letters to Cyrus, if you have any, or will
you choose to be killed as a spy? Here is the rope from about your
baggage and outside stands a tree that will serve to hang you on,
seeing that according to our law it is not allowed to shed the blood
of an envoy such as you say you are."

Now I thought for a moment. If I refused they would either hang me at
once or take me to Babylon to be tormented, as was the barbarous
fashion of these people. Also they would search my clothes and
belongings piece by piece, and find the letters. Further, I did not
wish to die who sought Myra, and lastly, I had little scruple in
betraying the secrets of Amasis which indeed I could not hide, who
began to believe that Amasis was for the second time betraying me. So
without more ado I told them where the writings were, since my hands
being tied, I could not produce them--the letter to Cyrus written in
the Persian language sewn up in my undergarment and the letters to
Egyptian agents cunningly hidden elsewhere, how I will not stay to
describe.

"You speak our tongue better than you did at first, Ptahmes the
Egyptian," said the officer as he handed the writings to the priest or
scribe.

This man scanned them swiftly, and said,

"The letters to the agents of Egypt throughout the East are the same
as that which this Ptahmes delivered to Pharaoh's officer in Damascus
which we have seen. The letter to Cyrus the king seems to be written
in a kind of secret script that I cannot decipher easily. It must go
to Babylon with the prisoner who perhaps may be willing to read it to
us himself."

I shook my head, saying,

"I am not able to do so, for I have not studied it; it was given to me
to deliver--no more. But if you will find my travelling companion,
Azar, who is learned in all these secret writings, perhaps he can help
you."

This I said hoping to discover what had chanced to Belus.

The scribe looked at the officer as though in question and in
obedience to some sign, answered,

"If you mean the Babylonian who was travelling with you, know,
Egyptian, that when he was seized and in danger of his life, by tokens
which we could not doubt, he revealed himself to be one of high rank
among our people although he has been absent for long from Babylon, a
priest and a magician also whom it was not lawful for us to detain.
Therefore we let him go lest he should bring the curse of Marduk upon
us. Whither he went we do not know, but being a magician perhaps he
vanished away."

Now I understood that these people would tell me nothing of the fate
of Belus, but whether this was because they were afraid of him, or
because he had been murdered, I could not guess. So I remained silent.
After this an inventory of all my goods, and especially of the gold,
was made by the scribe, a copy of it being handed to me. Then my
garments were returned to me, but the gold and the letters were set in
a chest which was sealed by the scribe and by three of the officers,
each of whom rolled upon the clay an engraved cylinder whereon were
cut the images of his gods.

Afterwards my arms were loosed although my feet remained shackled, and
I was given food. When I had eaten a camel was brought, upon the back
of which were fastened two large baskets of woven willow twigs,
hanging down on either side. In one of these baskets were placed all
my goods, and in the other I was laid, the lid being tied down over
me.

Thus I started upon my journey to Babylon, for thither the officer
told me I must be taken to be examined by the king or his servants
who, he added grimly, would know how to find out my true name and
business. Three days did I pass in that basket, being lifted out of it
only at night and to eat food, the most wretched days, I think, that I
can remember.

Not only was I cramped and shaken, but my heart was as sore as my
limbs. Everything had gone wrong. Myra was snatched away; Belus had
vanished, leaving me alone, and, as I was sure and grew more so hour
by hour, Amasis had betrayed me. Oh! now I understood. He had warned,
or ordered his agents to warn the Babylonians of my mission to Cyrus,
and given me letters to carry which would be certain to make them
wrath with me and perhaps cause them to put me to death as a spy.
Moreover I could not complain, seeing that instead of travelling
straight to Susa, I had followed Myra into Babylonian territory as
doubtless he guessed that I should do, and there was snared. Therefore
I must suffer whatever befell me in silence and had no refuge save to
trust in God. For always I have believed that there is a God who
watches over those who put faith in him, though he be not named Ammon
or Marduk.

On the fourth day of our journey, when I was almost overcome by the
heat in my basket and misery of body and of mind, the officers took me
out of it and set me upon a horse. At first I thought they did this
from friendliness, or perhaps because they feared lest I should die
upon their hands, but, having grown suspicious of all men, afterwards
I came to believe that they had another motive. They hoped, I thought,
that I should try to run away, when they would be free to kill me, for
which reason two spearmen and two mounted archers always rode on each
side of me. Whether or not this was their purpose I cannot tell, but
certainly I had no mind to fly who knew not where to go. Moreover I
wished to reach Babylon whither, as I gathered from the talk of the
officers, Nabonidus the king had repaired, knowing that if so Myra
would be there also.

At last one day shortly after dawn the walls of the mighty city arose
before us out of the mists of the morning that the sun drew from its
encircling river. Wonderful was the sight, most wonderful as the light
fell upon those towering walls and upon the huge stepped mound where
stood the temples of the gods, and upon the thousands of houses that
stretched around. Never had I seen such a city. Compared to it Memphis
and Thebes were but as little towns, and at any other time the vision
of it would have rejoiced me who have always loved such prospects. But
now when the officers asked me what I thought of Babylon, I could only
answer that the trapped bird cares nothing for the glories of its
cage, words at which they laughed.

All that day, save for a long halt during the hours of noon, we
travelled slowly towards Babylon through cultivated gardens where
thousands were at work. After these were passed we crossed the great
river in a flat-bottomed boat which held both us and our horses, for
here the baggage camels were left behind, and with them the brute upon
which I had travelled in my basket for so many weary hours. Then we
rode through more gardens till we came to a mighty gateway in the
enormous outer walls that towered over us like a precipice of bricks.
Beyond these was another wall with another gateway, and here we were
delayed for some time till gorgeously apparelled, black-bearded men
whom I supposed to be servants of the king, arrived to escort us.

These men who stared at me curiously, led us through league after
league of streets crowded with people who hurried to and fro, taking
heed of nothing save the business on which they were bent. So it went
on till darkness fell, through which we were guided by men with
torches. At length in the gloom I saw before me some vast building
upon whose walls and roof burnt cressets of fire, and guessed that it
must be a temple or a palace. In fact it was the latter, for presently
we reached its door, or one of its doors, where I and all my goods
were handed over to a guard and to certain men whom I took to be
palace eunuchs. By these I was led down many passages to a chamber,
not over large but well furnished with a bed and all that was
necessary. Here food and wine were brought to me by one who locked the
door behind him when he went away, leaving me alone save for the guard
whom I heard pacing the corridor without.

That night passed but ill for me who after the air of the desert felt
stifled in this hot chamber, which was in fact a prison as I judged by
the small window-place barred with rods of copper and cut high in the
wall where it could not be reached. Also I was very troubled. At
length I had come to Babylon but oh! what had fate in store for me at
Babylon?

In the morning more food was brought to me and clean garments, some of
my own taken from my baggage together with a long white robe of soft
material beautifully woven. When I asked the jailer what it was, he
replied curtly that all who appeared in the presence of the king must
wear this robe, but would say no more. So now I knew that I was to go
before the king, which perhaps meant that after I had been questioned
I should be executed as a spy. Well, if so, soon my sorrows would be
done.

A little later the door opened again and with a guard there appeared a
barber who set to work upon my hair, which had grown long during the
journey, curling and scenting it. Next he cut my beard square in the
Babylonian fashion, one that I much disliked who always wore it
pointed. Then he washed me carefully and trimmed my nails, till at
last I asked if I were going to a feast. The answer was, no, but that
all who appeared before the king must be purified, also that this was
a day of festival at the court when they must be made even purer than
usual.

Scarcely had he finished rubbing me with his scented unguents till I
smelt like some perfumed court darling, when a fat eunuch, richly
apparelled, appeared at the head of an escort and having examined me
as though I were a calf being led to sacrifice, commented that
although an Egyptian, I was a fine-looking man fit to take a lady's
fancy, and bade me follow him. This I did wondering whether some court
woman of high degree had chanced to cast her eyes on me, and groaning
at the thought. It was not so, however, for after passing through many
passages and across courtyards we came to a curious doorway with stone
gods or demons standing on either side, and going up some steps,
entered an enormous pillared hall. All the lower part of this hall was
empty, but at its far end a man sat upon a throne while about him,
though at a distance, were gathered many court officers, also great
princes and nobles, and behind him was a guard of soldiers.

The eunuch and those with him, even while they were still a long way
off, bent down till they looked like monkeys climbing along a bough,
and thinking it wise, I did the same. Thus we advanced up the great
hall till we came to that part where the court was gathered. Now I
found opportunity to examine the king who sat upon the throne, for he
had taken no heed of our approach, but was engaged in studying a stone
statue set upon a table near the foot of the throne, and in talking
about it eagerly to a thin, tall, noble-featured and quick-eyed old
man clad in a black robe, whom I took to be a doctor or priest, though
by blood neither Babylonian nor Greek, nor Egyptian.

As for the king himself, he was a little, withered man of about
seventy years of age with sharp, bead-like eyes that reminded me of
those of a mouse, and a wrinkled, but shrewd and kindly face. He was
clad in royal robes and ornaments which I noted became him very ill
and seemed to trouble him, for the head-dress with the crown on it was
twisted all awry and his golden, jewel-encrusted cloak had slipped
from his shoulders; also the false, ceremonial beard he wore had
become detached from his chin and hung loose round his neck.

"Behold the King of kings and be abased," whispered the eunuch in my
ears, in a voice in which I thought I detected mockery.

"I behold him," I whispered back, and went on bowing.

"I tell you, holy Hebrew," said Nabonidus shrilly, "that you may be a
very good prophet; but you understand nothing about gods."

"True, O King," answered the black-robed man in a deep and solemn
voice, "I understand one god only. About these idols," and he looked
contemptuously at the stone image on the table, "I know nothing and
care less. Now I would speak to your Majesty of a pressing and
important----"

"That is just where you are mistaken, Prophet Belteshazzar or Daniel,
for that is your real name, is it not?" interrupted the king
petulantly. "These idols, as you call them, are extremely powerful.
Why, I dug up that one there under the foundations of an ancient
temple that I am repairing, and have brought it to Babylon to add to
my collection of the gods of my empire.

"Well, what has happened? The whole province whence it came is almost
in revolt; indeed it threatens to make common cause with Cyrus the
Persian, my enemy, or rather the enemy of Babylon, for personally we
are on quite friendly terms and write to each other about antiquities.
All this, if you please, because I have brought away the image of a
god that none of their forefathers can have seen for generations,
since the tablets buried with it, written in old Accadian, show that
it was set beneath the angle of the temple, probably in a time of
danger at least a thousand years ago. Yes, although they do not know
the name of the god and have only a tradition that it was buried there
in the day of some forgotten king or other, they are all up in arms
because I have removed it. Yet you speak contemptuously of what you
call idols and want to begin to talk of some other matter, I forget
what. It would be more to the point, Prophet, if your familiar spirit
would tell us the name of this one which I burn to discover."

The prophet called Belteshazzar or Daniel glanced at the stone image
and shrugged his shoulders.

"Can no one tell me its name?" went on Nabonidus. "What is the use of
a crowd of magicians who know nothing? If it is revealed to anyone
here, upon my royal word he shall not lack a reward."

Now I who had been studying the statue, was moved to speak.

"May the king live for ever!" I said. "If it pleases the King to hear
me, I say that this holy image is one of Ptah, a great god of Egypt;
or perhaps of Bes, a Syrian god whose worship in Egypt began in the
time of Amenophis III nearly a thousand years ago, or even earlier.
Without examination I cannot say whether it be Ptah or Bes. But I know
that both of these gods have been sent from Egypt at one time or
another, to work miracles of healing at the request of the kings and
princes of the East."

"Here at last we have one with wisdom," cried Nabonidus, clapping his
hands. "But who is this man? A handsome one enough as I note, with the
eyes and hair of a Greek."

The scribe advanced, bent the knee and whispered in the king's ear.

"Oh!" said Nabonidus, "I remember, that Egyptian spy about whom we
were warned in a letter from----" and he checked himself. "Let me
think. He purports and represents himself to be an envoy from our
brother the Pharaoh of Egypt to Cyrus the Persian, our enemy. At least
a commission was found on him and has been deciphered, which says so,
though the name of the bearer is not mentioned, but probably it is
forged. Indeed it must be forged in face of what we learn about the
record of the man from Egypt. Also, if he had really been travelling
to Susa, or wherever that dangerous Cyrus may be living at the moment,
he would not have been found in Damascus, making secret inquiries
about me, journeying not as an ambassador should with an escort, but
disguised as a merchant. Lastly we were told that he is one of the
greatest liars in Egypt, a man who cannot be believed upon his oath,
and half a Greek, as indeed he looks."

Here the king brought his long soliloquy to an end and calling to a
robed man whom from his ornamented head-dress and splendid broideries,
I took to be a councillor or vizier, he said,

"What was it you told me ought to be done with this captive?"

"Spies are best dead, O King," replied the vizier coldly.

"True. Quite true. He ought to be sent to spy in the land of the gods
where doubtless there is a great deal to find out. Yet it seems a pity
to kill so goodly a fellow who is also no fool, especially as thanks
to the warning, he was caught with his forged letters before he got
away to Cyrus to report what he had learned in our empire, and
therefore has not done us any harm. No, Vizier, I cannot be troubled
to listen again to those wearisome documents and reports, especially
as we have heard all about this evil-doer from Egypt. Is the Prince
Belshazzar here? Oh! yes, I see he is. Come hither, Son, and give us
your opinion. You are the real ruler of Babylon, are you not, which
gives me leisure to attend to more interesting and important matters,"
and he glanced at the stone image on the table. "Therefore you should
bear your share of the burden, such as deciding about executions, a
business that I hate."

As he spoke, from the centre of a group of nobles who stood to the
right of the throne, with whom he had been conversing carelessly while
Nabonidus talked with the prophet about the image, appeared a splendid
figure who wore upon his head something like a crown. He was middle-
aged, for the hair upon his temples was turning grey, tall and broad,
black bearded and eyed, hook-nosed and cruel-faced, with the thick
moist lips of one who is led by his appetites. He came forward, bowed
slightly to the king and looked me up and down, then full in the face.
Our eyes met and at once I felt that this man was my enemy, one who
hated me at first sight as I hated him, and was destined to work me
evil. Yet I paid him back glance for glance till at length he turned
his head, understanding, as I was sure, that I was no common fellow
whom he could despise, and that if I had spied, it was for no mean
reason.

"As you ask me, O King," he said in a thick, loud voice, "I agree with
the vizier. This knave should be killed at once, or rather, tortured
to death, for doubtless out of his agonies may come some truth that
will be of service and value to us, also his real name, which for some
unknown reason has not been revealed to us. Had I chanced to fill the
judgment seat to-day, as it was settled that I should, if another
matter had not brought you here, O King, such at least would have been
my sentence."

My blood froze at these words, yet in some strange, calm fashion as
though I were considering another's case and not my own, I was able to
take note of all. Thus I saw the face of the prophet who was called
Belteshazzar flush and his lips move as though he were uttering a
prayer; I saw Nabonidus shake his head uneasily like one who hears
counsel that is not to his taste; I saw the vizier smile in a cold
fashion and the officer of the guard look towards the soldiers as
though he were about to order them to hale me away, while the others
glanced at me curiously to learn how I bore this hammer-blow of fate.
Another instant and the king was speaking,

"You have heard, Egyptian," he said. "The prince yonder, who is really
the judge of such matters, has spoken and it only remains for me to
confirm his doom, as being in the judgment seat I must do according to
the law before it can be carried out, for here in Babylon even the
king is the humble servant of the law. Have you anything to urge upon
your own behalf?"

"A great deal, O King," I answered; "more perhaps than you would have
patience to hear. It is true that I am an envoy to Cyrus, sent to him
upon business by the Pharaoh of Egypt, against my will, because Amasis
wishes to make friends with all the rulers of the East. But that I am
a spy is not true----"

Here Nabonidus held up his hand to silence me.

"Why waste your words," he said, "when you were found spying on behalf
of Cyrus, and bearing forged letters which do not give your name;
when, too, we have been assured from Egypt that you are the greatest
of all liars? If you have nothing more to say I fear that I must bring
this business to an end, as the vizier reminds me that another of more
importance waits which also has to do with Egypt. So be brief, I pray
you."

Now a fury entered into me that struck me dumb so that I could only
answer mockingly,

"Then, O King, I grieve that I shall find no opportunity to examine
yonder image," and I pointed to the statue on the table, "and to tell
your Majesty whether it be that of Ptah or Bes."

"True," said Nabonidus, "and you understand about gods, do you not?"

"Yes, O King. I who am a philosopher and a student, understand about
the gods of Egypt and their attributes; also about those of the East
and those of Persia and of the farther lands beyond, as I could show
you were the time given me."

"Is it so? Peace, Vizier, I know the lady waits. Let her wait. Am I of
an age or taste to be in haste to marry again? Hearken, I will not be
hurried. You need not frown at me, Belshazzar, for I do not heed you
or anyone. I am still King of Babylon, the first Servant of Heaven
with power of life and death. I refuse to condemn the man called--what
is he called? Oh! Ptahmes, in this fashion. Take him aside to yonder
gallery and keep him there, treating him well as a learned stranger.
When the other business is finished I will speak with him again. Obey,
lest some of you be shortened by a head. I bid you obey instantly,"
and he struck the arm of the throne with his sceptre.

Now his servants who knew well how these sudden furies of the weak but
passionate old king could end if he were thwarted, namely, in the loss
of their own lives or offices, sprang forward in a great hurry and led
me away. We went through swinging doors and along a passage until we
came to a stair hollowed in the thickness of the brick wall of the
palace. Up this stair we climbed and at length reached a gallery set
very high, near to the lofty roof indeed, and enclosed with a kind of
wood lattice such as is common in Egypt, through which one could see
without being seen.

The eunuch who accompanied me with the guard, wishing to please me
lest by some sudden turn of the wheel of fortune, of a sort that often
happens at the courts of these Eastern kings, I who a moment ago was
about to be condemned to a lingering death, should become powerful and
able to repay injuries, hastened to inform me that this was the place
whence the ladies of the royal House were sometimes allowed to look
down on ceremonies of state. He added that, whether by accident or
skill, he did not know, it was so contrived that those who sat in it
could hear all that was said below, whereas even if they were to
shout, their voices would never reach those gathered in the hall.

I thanked him and seated myself upon a carved stool which he brought
to me, in such fashion that through peepholes I could see everything
that passed. As it chanced there was much worthy of note. The doors of
the great hall had been thrown open and through them flowed a gaily
dressed multitude of guests. Beyond these at the end of the hall, in
that place where I had been judged, immediately beneath my gallery,
many courtiers and officers were assembling before the throne, at the
head of whom I noted the prince Belshazzar, he who had counselled that
I should be tormented to death.

At first this throne was empty, for Nabonidus had left it for a while.
When he reappeared I saw the reason, for now he was gorgeously
apparelled and his head-dress and beard which had been disarrayed,
were straightened, so that in his jewelled robes he wore the aspect of
a great king.



                             CHAPTER XIV

                      THE PROPHET AND THE PRINCE

For a while from this high place I watched the scene wondering idly
what it might portend, as a man does who knows not whether he has
another hour to live. Indeed it was not till afterwards that the
chatter of Nabonidus as to marrying again came back to my mind, which
at the time was full of all that I had heard as to the hideous methods
by which Eastern kings did their enemies, or those who were condemned
as malefactors, to death, with fire and water and hooked instruments
that slowly tore the vitals out of them in a fashion that was not
known in Egypt. Also it was full of rage against Amasis who, as now I
saw clearly, although he did not guess that it would bring me to
Babylon, had sent me on this mission that it might be my last. For had
he not betrayed me to these Babylonians, naming me a spy to make sure,
as he thought, of the death of one of whom for his own reasons he
would be rid by the hands of others, thus leaving his own unstained?

But when there arose a cry of, "The bride comes! The royal Lady
comes!" every word of that talk as to taking another bride came back
to me and I felt my heart stand still.

What if this bride, this royal lady should chance to be my own wife--
Myra? What if I should be forced to witness the giving of her to that
crowned dotard whose foolishness had just saved me from death, if only
for an hour?

I turned to the eunuch and asked him what was the meaning of this
ceremony, but either he did not understand my question or thought it
unlawful to answer. At least he remained silent.

Now through the open doors came a number of fair women singing and
dancing. Then followed musicians playing upon flutes and other
instruments, and after them heralds who bore gifts upon cushions. Next
appeared a litter surrounded by a guard of soldiers. The litter was
set down, the guard withdrew to right and left. Waiting ladies of the
royal household advanced and drawing the curtains of the litter,
helped her who was within it to descend. She came forward and followed
by a woman of short stature dressed in a plain robe, walked to an open
space in front of the litter. Now I could see her well for the light
from a high window fell upon her.

It was Myra herself and her attendant was the old nurse, Metep! Yes,
thus again I saw Myra from whom I had parted months before outside the
temple of Hathor at Memphis.

She was royally arrayed and wore, as I noted, all the wonderful jewels
that were her heritage, also the crystal pendant containing the little
pressed lily that I had given her after Belus had seen visions in the
bowl at the Happy House in Memphis. Upon her breast too was the
emerald cylinder covered with strange writing which was among the gems
in the bag her mother had thrust upon me in the tent on the
battlefield; for all these, and others, had been sent with her from
Memphis. Further, upon her brow holding her hair in place, was a
little golden circlet from the centre of which sprang the royal uraeus
of Egypt; even at this distance I could catch the flashing of its
jewelled eyes. Thus adorned she glided up the great hall, staring
about her like one bewildered who knew not where she was or what she
did, a vision of such wondrous beauty that a murmur of amazement arose
from the lips of the assembled company.

She reached the space before the throne where but a few minutes before
I had stood, a captive condemned to death, and halted there. In the
pause that followed I could see the courtiers and the nobles bend
forward to study her loveliness, and especially the bold eyes of the
Prince Belshazzar fixed upon her face. Next, stiffly enough, the old
king Nabonidus descended from the throne and coming to her, parted the
thin transparent veil that covered her from head to foot, and kissed
her on the brow. Thereon all cried,

"The great King accepts the royal Lady of Egypt. May the King live for
ever! May the royal Lady, his wife, live for ever."

The echoes of this formal shout of welcome which announced that
Nabonidus had taken another wife in the presence of his people, died
away and suddenly Myra seemed to awake and began to speak. She spoke
low, yet, as the eunuch had told me, that hall was so built that every
syllable reached me in the high-set, secret gallery.

"Touch me not, O great King," she said in a voice of music and using
the Babylonian tongue which she knew well, "for I am not worthy."

"What do you mean, Lady?" asked Nabonidus astonished. "It seems to me
that both in beauty and by rank you are worthy of any king who ever
sat upon the throne of Babylon."

"I have no rank, O King," she answered, "who was not born of the royal
House of Egypt. Nay, I am but a foundling taken from my dying mother's
breast upon the field of battle in the time of Merodach. Amasis, the
Pharaoh of Egypt, for his own purposes has deceived you, O King. He
stole me away from my home because I am well-favoured, and palmed me
off upon your envoys as a princess of the line of Pharaoh. This
coronet I wear is not mine, O King," and with a sudden motion she tore
the uraeus circlet from her brow and flung it away, so that her
abundant hair was loosed and fell down about her.

From all who heard these bold words came mutterings and gasps of
astonishment, for that such an affront should be put upon the majesty
of the King of Babylon seemed to them impossible.

Nabonidus lifted his hand and they were silent. Then he said,

"If what you say is true, Lady, the Pharaoh of Egypt has done me a
great wrong and one which many would seek to wash away in blood. But
is it true? And even if it be true, well, I have accepted you and your
mien is fair and royal if your blood be not. Though indeed," he added
as if to himself, "to me who am so old, fair women royal or other now
are naught."

He thought for a moment, then continued, "This is a tangled coil, but
if you can prove what you allege, it still seems best and would do you
least dishonour that you should enter the palace as one of the ladies
of my household."

"It cannot be, O King," said Myra in a strained voice and I saw the
pearls upon her breast quiver as she spoke.

"Cannot be! Why cannot it be?" he asked sternly, adding, "Great kings
do not listen to such words."

"Because, O King, I am already wed and therefore unmeet for the royal
household. Spare me, O King," and she sank to her knees, stretching
out her arms in supplication.

"Already wed!" he exclaimed shrinking back from her, while some of
those present in tones of horror echoed the words, "Already wed!"

For as I learned afterwards, for ages no such sacrilege had been known
as that one who was married should be given to the Great King as a
wife or as a member of his household.

"Let the woman be taken away," said a voice, I think it was that of
the vizier who had interpreted the king's motion as an order of death.

"Nay," exclaimed Nabonidus, "I did not speak. If her story be true,
namely that she was torn from her home and sent hither to me disguised
as a royal princess of Egypt in return for my daughter given to
Pharaoh, then the blame is Pharaoh's and not hers, and with Pharaoh we
must settle our account. But I repeat--is it true? Though that a woman
should lie upon such a matter, thus throwing away the place of Queen
of Babylon, seems strange, unless love drives her. Lady, have you any
evidence to your tale?"

Myra, still upon her knees, looked over her shoulder and said in the
Egyptian tongue,

"Come hither, Nurse, and tell the king who I am and how I came here."

So Metep stood forward staring about her in a bewildered fashion, for
she had understood no word of all this talk in the Babylonian tongue.
Soon it was seen that she could only speak through an interpreter.
After some search an officer was found who knew Egyptian, though not
too well for he spoke it haltingly and with a foreign accent. At
length he asked her whether it was true that her mistress was married.

Metep answered, "Yes, she is married, unless the priests of Hathor are
all liars," and then began a rambling story of how Myra had been taken
away from the Happy House by the servants of Pharaoh with whom came
the great lady, Chloe, and how she had clung to the doorway pillars
till they dragged her arms apart, a tale that caused me to grind my
teeth with rage. Still it was one of which the king soon wearied,
especially as the officer interpreted but ill.

"This old woman is a babbling fool," he said. "Let her be silent. Is
there no other here who can speak of this matter? If not the lady had
best be removed to the women's court and set among those to whom the
King has bidden farewell, until our pleasure concerning her is known."

Then suddenly there stepped forward a man clad in the robe of a
Babylonian astrologer, for on it and on his pointed cap were painted
stars and other strange emblems. By the gods, it was Belus! Yes, Belus
himself and no other, and oh! my heart leapt at the sight of him.

"Who is this?" asked Nabonidus.

"May it please the King," answered Belus, "I am one whom the King once
knew well, before he was called to the throne of Babylon. Yes, I
sprang from one who sat upon that throne before him. I was scribe and
astrologer in the royal household; a priest also of Marduk and of
Ishtar, the Queen of Heaven. In those days I, who am now known as
Belus, or as Azar, had another name which the King may remember. If
not I will whisper it in his ear," and stepping forward he bent his
head and said something that caused Nabonidus to start. Then retiring,
he went on,

"The King will recall my story. I was married but had not lost my wife
who left me with a daughter. That maiden was exceedingly fair. She was
stolen from me, it matters not by whom"--here I thought that he
glanced at Belshazzar who I saw was listening intently. "The maid was
one of spirit and because she fought against fate, she was murdered.
Her body was thrown into the river and found with a letter in her robe
that told all the tale. If the King would see that letter, I have it
here. I sought redress but found none. Therefore I left Babylon and
went to dwell at the court of the Pharaoh of Egypt, leaving behind me
my curse on those by whom I have been wronged."

Here again I thought that he glanced towards Belshazzar.

"Never have I returned to Babylon although I still have friends here
to whom I write from time to time. These can testify of me, as can the
masters of magic and the readers of the stars with whom I am ever in
communion. Yet fate has brought me back to Babylon, as soon or late, I
knew well that it would do. Now is the King satisfied that I am a true
man, to prove which I have told him all this story?"

"I am satisfied and I accept the story which to my sorrow, I have
heard before, O friend of my youth," answered Nabonidus.

"Then if the King will be pleased to listen, I will witness concerning
this lady whom I have known from childhood. As she has said, she was
taken from the arms of her dying mother when an infant after the great
battle between the Egyptians and the Babylonians, in which the Prince
Merodach commanded the forces of Babylon, for I saw her brought to his
tent by the Egyptian captain who found her, and with her those jewels
which she wears to-day. That captain who was my friend and with whom I
dwelt, nurtured her to womanhood, all supposing that she was his
daughter, till at length, but a little while ago, he took her to wife.
Immediately afterwards she was stolen away by the Pharaoh of Egypt
and, because of her great beauty and royal bearing, was sent in the
character of a princess of Egypt to be a wife to your Majesty."

"A trick for which Pharaoh shall pay dear, especially as I have
touched her with my lips and therefore accepted her as my wife,"
explained Nabonidus. "Yes, and my wife she must remain until I die,
for is it not an ancient law that what the King of Babylon does in
council before the people can never be undone?"

Now when I heard these words in my watching-place, hope left me, as I
think it did Myra, for I saw her tremble and rest her hand on the
shoulder of Metep as though she were about to fall. Still I set my
teeth and listened on.

"What is the name of the man to whom this lady is wed, and what his
station, O friend of my youth now known as Belus and travelling under
that of Azar?" asked the king.

"His name is Ramose, O King, one who in my company follows after
learning and holds high office in Memphis in Egypt. By birth he is a
son of Apries, late Pharaoh of Egypt, having a Grecian lady called
Chloe for his mother."

Now the vizier whispered something in the ear of the king, who nodded
and said,

"Therefore one of whom the present Pharaoh, the slayer of Apries,
would wish to be rid. Oh, now I see all the plan. The husband who
sheltered the child as his daughter and afterwards made her his wife,
is the bastard of a Pharaoh of the true descent and thus has royal
blood in his veins. Hence she, the supposed daughter, is called a
royal princess and as such declared to be a fit wife for the Majesty
of Babylon. Truly a plot well worthy of the base-born venturer who
sits upon the throne of Egypt."

He paused, his old hands shaking with wrath, then turned to Myra and
asked,

"Much wronged Lady, what am I to do with you?"

"O King, I pray you give me back to my husband whom I love and who
loves me."

"Where is your husband?"

"O King, I do not know. When I left Egypt in charge of your officers I
heard that Pharaoh detained him at his court. Perchance Belus there
knows, for never have they been separated for many years."

"If so, Belus may be wise to keep silent, lest Pharaoh should learn
his answer," said the king warningly. "Listen, Lady, according to our
law you are now my wife. The past matters not, I have touched you with
my lips and you are the wife of the King of Babylon. Is that not the
law, Vizier?"

"It is, O King," he replied, bowing. "Henceforward if any man ventures
to look upon this woman, yea, even though he were once her husband, he
must die, and if she shares his guilt she must die with him."

"You hear, Lady," said the king.

"I hear," she whispered.

"Yet," he went on, "be sure that you have naught to fear from me who
do not wish to anger the gods by such a sin, and therefore lest you
should be troubled on this matter, you shall not enter into my
household. Nor can you be sent back to Egypt for many reasons, and
above all for your own sake, for then Pharaoh Amasis would be avenged
upon you who have betrayed his villainy. Where then must you go?"

"To the tomb, I think," she answered in a faint voice. "There alone
are rest and safety."

"Nay," answered the old king looking on her with kind eyes, "you are
too fair and over-young to die. Who knows what the gods may have in
store for you? Yet what am I do to with you?"

Now I saw that black-robed, thin-faced, dreamy-eyed old man who was
called Daniel or Belteshazzar and a prophet, step forward out of the
crowd of courtiers. He came to Myra and studied her face. Next he
dropped his eyes and stared fixedly at the emerald amulet which hung
beneath the pearls and other ornaments upon her bosom. Then he turned
to the king and said,

"May the King live for ever! It is revealed to me, O King, that this
lady is by blood one of a captive people who dwell in this kingdom,
that of the Hebrews, to which I too belong. Never before have I beheld
her, still I say it is revealed to me. O King, it has pleased you and
some who sat upon your throne before you to show me favour and to make
me a ruler in your land."

"We know your story, O Prophet Belteshazzar," answered Nabonidus in a
voice that was touched with awe, "and that you are favoured and
protected by your God with whom you commune day and night. It is
needless to repeat it before those who have seen your miracles. If you
have any petition to make concerning this woman, speak on, remembering
that having been accepted by me, under our law which may not be
changed, she can be given to no other man who lives."

"I have a petition to make, O King," answered the prophet. "The King
knows what I am and my manner of life. Let this lady and her servant
be given into my charge till the will of God concerning her is known.
Meanwhile I swear that during the King's lifetime she shall be visited
or spoken to by no other man, and thus the law of Babylon as to those
who have been accepted by the King, shall not be broken. Let officers
be set about my house to watch the fulfilment of my oath."

Nabonidus thought a while; then he said wearily,

"I tire of this business. Scribes, write down my decree. I command
that the woman named Myra, whom I accepted believing her to be a royal
princess of Egypt given to me in exchange for that royal lady of
Babylon whom I have sent as a wife to Pharaoh, but who it seems is
already wed to another man and therefore unfit to enter my household,
shall be placed in the charge of Belteshazzar, my servant, a prophet
of the people of Judah, to hold in ward until my pleasure concerning
her is known. I command that a guard be set by day and night about the
dwelling of the prophet Belteshazzar, to make sure that this woman has
no converse with any other man. If she is found in company or speech
with any man save the prophet, let her and that man be slain. Now
touch my sceptre, both of you, O Prophet, and Woman Myra, in token
that you acknowledge my decree."

So saying he stretched out a little golden rod that all this while he
had held in his hand, first to one of them and then to the other,
thereby assuring them of safety and making his word unchangeable.

They touched the sceptre; the stern-faced, black-robed prophet bowed
to the king and beckoned to Myra to follow him. A guard formed round
them and they departed from the hall of audience by a side entrance.
Myra, who seemed crushed with grief, leaning on the shoulder of Metep,
for she tottered as she walked. Her path led her past the spot where
the Prince Belshazzar, governor and vice-king of Babylon, stood
surrounded by his courtiers. He bent forward and stared at her in a
fashion of which none could mistake the meaning, then uttered some
jest to the lords that caused them to laugh and the prophet to turn
his head and look at him as though in rebuke. Next this Belshazzar
advanced to the throne and said something to the king in a low voice
which I could not catch. Whatever it may have been it angered
Nabonidus, for he flushed and replied wrathfully,

"What I have said, I have said, who am still king in Babylon, and it
shall go ill with any who defy me, yes, even with you, Prince."

In the silence that followed these threatening words, he waved his
sceptre, thereby declaring the court at an end, left the throne and
departed attended by his officers.

Belshazzar watched him go, then he shrugged and said in a loud and
angry voice to his attendants,

"Even kings do not live for ever and their decrees die with them. Soon
I will find yonder lovely one a gayer home than the cell of that black
Hebrew wizard," a speech at which some laughed and others looked
afraid, for it was treasonable.



The great hall emptied, the glittering crowd pouring through the
doorways like a stream of gold and jewels. Soon they were all gone.
For a while I sat on in the secret gallery so overwhelmed with what I
had endured that I could scarcely think. At last a messenger came who
whispered to the watching eunuch. Thereon he touched me on the
shoulder and led me away surrounded by the guard. I went, wondering
whether I was being taken to my death. But it was not so, for
presently once more I found myself in my prison where they left me
alone.



                              CHAPTER XV

                         RAMOSE FINDS FRIENDS

They brought me food but I could not touch it, though of their strong
wine I drank a goblet or two which gave me back what I seemed to have
lost, the power to think.

Strange and dreadful was my case! I had found Myra but to lose her
again for ever, although for the present she had escaped violence and
was left alive in what seemed to be safe hands, those of the Hebrew
prophet about whom such marvellous tales were told and who was feared
of all.

I who was a student of the customs of foreign nations, well knew those
of Assyria and Babylon, and indeed of all the monarchs of the East,
namely that women were their chattels and that any who once had passed
their doors and entered their presence, were sealed to them for ever
and under pain of death might henceforward be seen only by other women
and by eunuchs. The man who spoke to them was doomed, even though he
were a brother; they were dead to the world. Such was the lot of Myra
which perhaps she might have escaped, had she but spoken earlier
before, moved by her beauty, the old king accepted her. Yet how could
she speak who did not know or understand?

Stay! Belus whom I thought lost, had appeared again clothed with power
and as a friend of the king, who it seemed had been a companion of his
youth. In Belus there was hope. Yet what could Belus do? He might so
work that my life would be spared, for which if Myra were lost to me,
I should not thank him--no more. And that beetle-browed, fierce-eyed
Belshazzar, that prince of evil fame, the real king in Babylon, who
but for some chance, if there be any chances in the world, would have
sat that day upon the seat of judgment--what of him? He had cast eyes
of longing upon Myra, and what he desired soon or late he would surely
take, as he had declared but now, unless indeed she escaped him by the
gate of death. Oh! my strait was sore and I had naught on which to
lean, save trust in God, if there were any god who paid heed to the
miseries of us poor mortals and stretched over them the shield of
justice.

Yet life still remained to us and while we lived all might be
retrieved, for the last throw had not been cast. In my agony I prayed,
not knowing to whom or to what to pray,

"O Power that made the world," I cried in my heart, "O Strength
unseen, unknowable, that drew us out of darkness and set us on this
gaudy, changeful stage, whence presently we must fall into Death's
deeper darkness. O vast Intelligence that deviseth all, O Beginning
and End that is no end; O Point of Time and Circle of Eternity, hear
me, the mote of dust blown by thy breath. Help me and her thou gavest
me who has been made the sport of vanity and statecraft. Save her from
shame and of thy mercy give us who love each other, our little hour of
light before we are borne back into blackness. Rob us not of the
common gift that is poured upon beast and bird and flower--the joy
they know beneath the glory of the sun. Or if this may not be, let us
pass hence swiftly and hand in hand go to seek that which lies beyond
the sun."

In some such words I prayed and as the last of them passed my lips,
the door opened and a messenger appeared.

"Rise up," he said. "The Great King commands your presence."

A guard following me, I went with him to the private apartments of the
palace. We passed through many that were gorgeous to a large plain
chamber, well lit from the roof. Here upon a chair set against a
table, sat a man whom at first I did not know, a little withered old
man dressed in such a robe as workmen wear. Looking at him again I
perceived that it was none other than Nabonidus the king stripped of
all his finery and engaged in eating a meal. The food was simple. On
the bare table were a jug of wine and a goblet or two, all of them, as
I knew who collect such things, dating from ancient days. Then there
was bread, and with it a bird cut up upon a platter, cheese made of
goat's milk and a handful of onions. Such was the fare of this monarch
of the earth.

I prostrated myself, but he called to me to rise, saying,

"We are not at court here. You are the Egyptian who understands about
gods, are you not? Well, have you eaten after all that wearisome
ceremony?"

I replied that I had not, whereon he added,

"Then come sit down and take some of this duck, if you can get your
teeth through it, which I can't. And if not, the bread and the cheese
are good and soft, and the country wine not bad. Don't stare at me,
you fool of a eunuch! Of course I know he can kill me if he likes, but
he won't, for learned men, and I take it he is one of them, who study
and seek out the secrets of the past never kill each other--except
with their tongues. Also if he did, I am not certain that I should be
sorry. There is so much that I cannot learn in this world, that I
rather look forward to another where if there are thrones, may it
please the gods I shall not fill one of them. Out you go, Eunuch, and
take that guard with you. I hate to see them watching me, and the
shining of their swords, and to listen to the clatter of their armour.
Swords to stab and armour to turn them, and war, war, war, these are
the world into which an evil fate has cast me, and I weary of them
all. Don't stand there stammering. Out you go! If he kills me, you can
kill him afterwards, and we will continue our discussion elsewhere.
But I tell you he won't."

So the eunuch and the guard went, unwillingly enough, staring first at
Nabonidus and then at me.

"Now come and sit down," said the king. "There isn't another stool, or
at least they all have things on them, but that old pottery coffin
will do as well. I often use it myself."

"O King, I am unworthy," I began.

"By Marduk, or by Ishtar, or by Ammon of Egypt, whichever you prefer,
that is for me to judge, not for you. Don't waste time, man. Look at
all the relics I want to talk to you about," and he pointed to long
tables on which stood a number of stone gods, among them those that I
had seen in the hall of audience and trays full of inscriptions graved
upon clay or marble tablets and cylinders.

So I sat myself upon the old pottery coffin which, I observed, still
had bones inside it, and began to eat. For now, I know not why, my
appetite had returned to me; perhaps hope was working in my heart.

"I did you a favour just now, Egyptian," said the king, with a
chuckle. "When I told them to fetch you, they answered that they
feared it was too late, as my son Belshazzar had issued an order for
your execution in my name, perhaps because he thought I meant you to
die after all, or because he wished to be rid of you, I don't know
which. However, he won't do that again, for I commanded that his
people whom he was sending on the business, should be seized and
beaten on the feet until they can only crawl away upon their hands and
knees. Really," he added reflectively, "it is Belshazzar who should
suffer, not his servants. Only you see he is almost as much a king as
I am. That's the way of the world, isn't it? One offends and others
pay for it. I daresay it works well in the end, as it teaches them and
the rest not to have to do with those who do offend."

"I thank the King," I said, thinking to myself that it was not strange
that my heart had been so heavy in my cell.

"Don't thank me for I owe you a good deal--take a cup of wine, won't
you, and look at the carving on that goblet before you drink, for it
is beautiful, of the third dynasty of Ur. See the lion. We can't do
such work nowadays. Fill mine first that I may drink to show you it
isn't poisoned. I have never poisoned a man yet, which is more than
most kings can say."

I did as he bade me and we both drank.

"Now listen," he went on as he set down his cup. "Your real name is
not Ptahmes but Ramose of whom, before you appeared here as a spy, I
have heard as a scholar and a collector in Cyprus, for I know the
names of all the really learned men. Don't deny it for I have just had
a private talk with my old friend Belus. Of course I know that you are
not a spy. You are a son of Apries, are you not, one of whom that dog,
Amasis, wishes to be rid because of the blood in you which he and his
son have not got; also for other reasons?"

"It is so, O King, yet of old days this Amasis showed himself a good
friend to me because I pleased him as a soldier, though once since he
became Pharaoh, when in his cups, he did threaten my life at my own
table. Now if he would have me killed I think it is for another
reason."

"Perhaps, Ramose. Who knows the reasons of such a low-bred man? They
are as hidden as his parents. But this I can tell you. Through those
who serve him in this kingdom he caused me to be warned that you were
a dangerous fellow, believed to be the bearer of forged writings
purporting to appoint you an envoy from Egypt to Cyrus the Persian,
whereas really you were in the pay of the said Cyrus."

"It is false, O King. Let the writings that have been taken from me,
be carefully examined and it will be seen that they are not forged.
Also I was forced to this embassy; why I have learned to-day."

"Which if you had carried out you would have found an evil one, for
doubtless Cyrus is also warned against you. Oh! your Amasis is a rat!
He is afraid of Babylon and he is also afraid of the Persians, with
more reason perhaps for I think their star rises in the East.
Therefore he tries to play off one against the other and to pretend
himself the friend of both. But tell me, Ramose. If you thought
yourself an ambassador to Cyrus, what were you doing making secret
inquiries in Damascus?"

"I sought one whom I had lost, O King."

"So I have learned. You and no other are the same Ramose who is the
husband of that most beauteous lady who to-day was delivered to me as
a wife, to bribe me to a friendship with Egypt, but who it seems was
stolen from you by Amasis, pretending that he believed her to be your
daughter and therefore with royal blood in her. Had I seen Belus first
and known all the story, never would I have accepted her. But I did
not until it was too late and she was so exceedingly fair that for a
flash of time I thought myself young again, as old men do at moments,
and received her in the ancient, accepted fashion, which perchance you
saw."

"Yes, I saw it all," I answered with a groan.

"Therefore, Ramose, it is finished," he went on. "For even a king of
Babylon with all his power cannot hand over to any other man a woman
whom once he has publicly acknowledged as his wife, because if he did
so, he would earn the curse of the gods--or of their priests--and
bring contempt and mockery upon his name. Yet I have done what I could
for you and her. I have placed her in the keeping of the holy saint
who confounded one that went before me, and who is feared and honoured
throughout my kingdom as a mighty magician; a half-god; not of it, but
dwelling on the earth. With him she will be safe, for there are no men
in his house where even the boldest dare not molest her, no, not
Belshazzar himself--while I live," he added slowly as though to warn
me.

"Still our case is evil, O King, who are wed and love each other, and
yet under pain of death must always be separate."

For a while the old man went on munching the brown barley bread with
his toothless gums and gazing at me. Then he said,

"Perhaps not quite so evil as you think, friend Ramose. Listen. I will
tell you what I hide even from my physicians and astrologers. From the
physicians because they cannot help me; from the astrologers because
it will save them and their stars the trouble of providing favourable
omens and interpretations that will never be fulfilled. I shall not be
here long, friend Ramose, at least above the ground. At times my heart
seems to stop, especially if I am hurried or angered, and I descend
into a pit of blackness and walk upon the edge of death. It did so
when I learned of the trick of Amasis and again now for an instant,
when I grew wrath because Belshazzar for some dark reason of his own
had commanded that you should be killed against my will. Well, soon I
think I shall walk over that edge and there will be an end."

"May the gods forbid it! May the King live for ever!" I said
earnestly, for forgetting its own troubles my heart went out towards
this kindly old man to whom majesty brought so little joy.

"May the gods do nothing of the sort, Egyptian, for I think a fate is
falling upon Babylon which I do not wish to live to see. While I have
strength I cling to the throne that, if I can, I may shield her from
the folly of those who refuse to make peace with this upstart Persian,
Cyrus, who is yet a great man. When I am gone let Belshazzar and his
young counsellors follow their own road to ruin. I read in your eyes
that you are honest, also Belus has made report to me of you; were it
otherwise I should not speak thus with a stranger, but it seems that
after all you are only a flatterer like the rest with your--'May the
King live for ever!' Being wise, you know that kings do not live for
ever, unless indeed that is the lot of all elsewhere. Still I forgive
you who being much shaken and afraid seek to speak smooth things."

"It is true, pardon me, O King."

"Let it be and hearken. When a king of Babylon dies the ancient and
inviolable law is loosed and, within a year, the women of his
household, save the mother of the new king, may marry and go where
they will. Then will be your opportunity as regards this lady Myra, if
you can win her out of the grasp of any who would hold her fast in
Babylon, and especially of one whom I will not name who desires her
and, as I hear, already has sworn to take her. Therefore you must stay
on here in this city where your goods shall be restored to you with my
pardon for all that you may have done. It is in the hands of the gods.
May they give you strength and wisdom. Meanwhile keep to your false
name of Ptahmes and, if you would live, let none guess that you are
Ramose, the husband of Myra. I have spoken. Now let us talk about
other things."

Then, dismissing my private business to which he had given so much
thought in the goodness of his kind heart, he began to speak wisely
enough of the old gods whose images stood about in this chamber, of
their history and worshippers, of the cities where he had found them,
of the temples that he had built or restored, and I know not what
besides.

As it chanced of many of these matters I knew a great deal, having
studied the attributes of the gods of many lands, comparing them one
with another and tracing their rise and fall with that of the
countries or cities which worshipped them, or how they changed their
characters and names as it might suit their priests to make them do.
So it came to pass that we talked on, as learned man to learned man,
until at length the dusk began to gather and I saw that the old king
grew weary, for he leaned back in his chair, put his hand upon his
heart, closed his eyes and sighed. I watched him anxiously and
especially a blue tinge which appeared upon his lips, not knowing what
to do, who was sure that if he died when I was alone with him, it
would be laid to my door and my life would pay the price.

Presently, however, he recovered and ordered me to strike upon a bell
which stood near by. Instantly attendants and guards appeared who all
this while had been gathered without, and with them one of his private
scribes.

To this man the king dictated words which he wrote down. They were an
order of pardon to me, Ptahmes the Egyptian, or rather a declaration
of my innocence of all that was laid to my charge. Also a decree that
I should be set at liberty, furnished with apartments in the palace
and sustenance as the king's guest, and have right of access to the
king at all times that he could receive me. This writing he sealed in
duplicate with his own seal, and gave one copy of it to me, commanding
that the other should be made known to all the officers and governors
of the palace and of Babylon, and then filed in the temple of Marduk,
that thenceforward I might be safe in my going out and my coming in
and that everyone might do me reverence as the king's friend.

These things done he waved his hand, thus bidding me farewell and I
was led away, no longer as a prisoner but with every honour, the
soldiers saluting and eunuchs and chamberlains bowing down before me.

Such were the changes of fortune that I experienced on this, my first
day in Babylon, and such were the strange happenings that befell me.



They led me to beautiful apartments high up in the old part of the
palace that, as I was told, in the days of dead kings had served as
the lodgings of envoys from foreign courts. Here I found all my goods,
and with them the gold that had been taken from me, yes, to the last
piece, and even the letters of Amasis and his officers, that should
have brought about my death, though these were given to me later.
Having been acquitted and honoured by the king, everything against me
was forgotten; I was as another man. Palace servants waited on me,
bringing delicate food and wine, palace minstrels played upon many
strange instruments while I ate; even palace dancing girls appeared in
light attire, but these I sent away being in no mood for their
blandishments.

I ate, or pretended to eat, because I was ashamed to refuse the food
with so many eyes watching me. I drank as much as I should drink, or
perhaps more, because I needed the comfort of wine, and afterwards sat
and brooded alone at an open window-place. Thence I could see much of
the mighty city of Babylon over which shone the full moon, the
towering temples, the gleaming river, the vast encircling walls, the
palaces, the gardens, the populous streets whence rose the hum of a
million voices, the flaring signal fires and cressets upon pinnacles
and pillars, and a thousand other spectacles that were new to me.

But these moved me not, for always my eyes wandered over the sea of
roofs, wondering beneath which of them dwelt that piercing-eyed old
man, the Prophet Daniel, or Belteshazzar, of whom such marvellous
tales were told, and with him, Myra, my heart's desire.

Now that I thought of it, Belus had spoken to me of this magician long
ago, saying that he had interpreted the dreams of Nebuchadnezzar. Yes,
even when the king had forgotten what they were, and thereby had saved
the lives of all the wise men and seers whom, in his fury, the king
purposed to put to death. Also, interpreting another dream, he had
told him that because he thought himself greater than God, God would
make him as a beast in the field, so that he would run about naked in
his garden and eat herbs like a beast. This indeed came to pass, since
before his end Nebuchadnezzar was smitten with madness. Yet he greatly
honoured Daniel or Belteshazzar as he was named in Babylon,
worshipping him as one divine, and promoted him to be the ruler of
Babylon after the king, a rank that it seemed he still retained at
least in name. Therefore Myra was more safe with him than any other.
Yet was she safe? Remembering the devouring glance and the words of
the fierce-eyed Belshazzar, the real king of Babylon, I asked myself--
Oh! was she safe?

Why not--if this Daniel were the servant and minister of the true God
and could throw his mantle over her? But was there any true god who
had power in a world where dwelt so many devils? Alas! I did not know
who for all my seeking, had never found him, though at times, it is
true, I thought that I had kissed his feet.

There came a challenge at my door where it seemed a guard was set, a
word spoken, the rattle of a sheathed sword and the clank of bolts. A
man entered looking about him. As he moved his head the lamplight fell
upon his face, and I saw that it was Belus! I remember that I ran and
threw my arms around him, and that he kissed me on the brow as a
father might do, for indeed he was the only true father I had ever
known. Then, having made sure that we were alone, we sat down and
talked.

"Fortune has not gone so ill with us, Ramose, or rather Ptahmes, for
that name is safer here," he said. "When a while ago we were parted on
that journey to Seleucia I scarcely thought to see you again living.
They seized me and to save myself from death, I declared to the king's
scribe who accompanied them, what I have hid even from you--my true
lineage which is high enough, seeing that through my mother, the king
Nabonidus and his son Belshazzar are my kinsmen. Also I showed my rank
as a priest of Ishtar and one of the first of the College of
Astrologers, and proved what I said by a certain writing and by tokens
that I carry hidden about me.

"They bowed before those holy tokens and instantly I was hurried away
in a chariot, that I might be brought into the presence of the king
and my tale confirmed by the Councils of the priests and the
astrologers at Babylon. I prayed earnestly that you might come with me
but it was not allowed, which, had not my spirit told me otherwise,
would have caused me to believe that you were dead, for of your fate
they would say nothing.

"I reached Babylon before you, travelling very swiftly by the king's
posts and though I could not see Nabonidus my cousin, because he was
sick and might not be disturbed, I appeared before the Councils, among
whom were men who had known me well in my youth. I was given back my
rank among the companies of the priests and the watchers of the stars,
which indeed I had never forfeited as the records showed, who had left
the land by the leave of Nebuchadnezzar, to gather learning in other
countries which I might share with my companions in Babylon, as I have
done year by year. So very swiftly, as though it had been decreed, all
went well with me and now once more I am a man of high rank and
station in the great city, also as it chances, a relative by blood of
that King of kings who to-day sits upon the throne."

"And how did you learn what had happened to me, and to Myra, Belus?"

"I made inquiry, but having so little time, could discover nothing
because your fate after you were taken prisoner was not yet known, and
of Myra who came to be wife to the king, if any knew they would not
speak because of the strange laws of Babylon as to the women of the
royal household. Not till early this same morning was I sure that you
were in Babylon and, because the matter was urgent, would at once be
brought before the king for judgment, also that afterwards the royal
lady, as they thought her, who had been sent from Egypt to be wife to
the king, would be presented to him in the presence of the councillors
and nobles, that the friendship between Babylon and Egypt might be
thus publicly proclaimed. I strove to see you and to send a letter to
Myra, but it was impossible, for both of you were too closely guarded.
I strove to see the king, but this also was impossible for, having
been sick, he was still asleep and would not rise from his bed till
the hour came for him to attend the court, as by good fortune he had
suddenly determined to do at the time of the uttering of judgments, to
settle some matters concerning a holy statue about which there was
trouble because it had been brought to Babylon. Do you know the rest?"

"Yes, Belus, for after my trial I was hidden away high up in a secret
gallery of the women where I could see all and hear every word that
passed. I tell you when I beheld Myra standing beneath me in her
beauty, and saw that old king so moved by it that he forgot his years
and weakness and, descending from his throne, embraced her, thereby
receiving her as a wife according to the ancient customs, I thought
that my heart would burst. Oh! why did she not speak sooner, for then,
being good-hearted, he might have spared her?"

"Doubtless because it was so fated, Ramose, for her good--and your
own. If the king had rejected her as some common cheat trapped out to
ape a royal lady, she would have been driven from the Presence to fall
into the hands of the first who chose to take her. Whose would they
have been, Ramose?"

"Do you mean those of the Prince Belshazzar?" I asked.

"Yes, I do. Ramose, I have known him from his boyhood and I tell you
he is not a man, but a tiger who loves to prey upon fair women; in
particular upon those who hate and fly from him. You heard the tale I
told the king. Ramose, it was Belshazzar who stole my daughter and
afterwards murdered her, no other man."

For a while he paused and there was silence, for I knew not what to
say. Then his withered face and quiet eyes seemed to take fire and he
went on,

"Ramose, as you know, I am by nature gentle, one who can forgive and
find excuse for almost every sin because I understand the hearts of
men. But this prince I never can forgive who, as it chances, knows all
the horror of his crime and what he caused that poor maid of mine to
suffer before he butchered her. Towards him I am a minister of
vengeance appointed by God. Aye, through all these years, while I
dwelt so peacefully with you, I have awaited my hour, sure that it
would come, and now I think it is at hand, though still I know not
how. Doubtless he will try to kill me because he fears me whom he has
so deeply wronged, but he will not succeed."

He paused again, then said,

"Let my troubles be a while; we will speak of yours, or rather of
ours. As he dealt with my daughter, so will Belshazzar deal with Myra
if he can. Having seen her beauty of which he had been told, he will
surely try to take her; indeed at the court I read it in his eyes and
heard him say as much after the king had gone."

"As I did," I broke in with a groan.

"Now," went on Belus, "when I learned these things from those who had
been friends to me in the days of my youth, also that it was
impossible that I could speak or write you or Myra before the sitting
of the court, I went back to my chamber and prayed for help to the
Spirit of Wisdom whom I worship. So earnestly did I pray that a
faintness came over me and all grew dark to my eyes; then on the
blackness, or so it seemed to me, appeared one word in the Chaldean
writing, namely 'Daniel.' My mind returned to me and I wondered who or
what was Daniel, till presently I remembered that Daniel was the name
of a certain high-born captain of the people of Judah, he whom
Nebuchadnezzar advanced to great honour, giving him the new name of
Belteshazzar, by which thenceforth he was known in Babylon. Also I was
sure that this man was brought to my mind because from him there might
come help in my trouble.

"I went out and having inquired where dwelt the lord and prophet
Belteshazzar, I ran as never I have run before, to his house which is
near to the southern gate. As I reached it Daniel himself came out
from the courtyard riding on a mule, for after all these years I knew
him again. I craved speech of him and at first he answered,

"'Friend, I go to my garden without the wall, there to rest and pray.
If you have business with me I beg you to come at another time.'

"'Lord and Prophet,' I answered, 'the business is most urgent.' Then
seeing that he was still minded to go on, I added, 'It has to do with
one of the blood of Judah.'"

"Why did you say that?" I asked of Belus. "Was it only because you
thought he would listen to nothing else?"

"Nay, Ramose, it was because Myra, as I have long been sure, is of
that race. Did not her dying mother tell you so? Is not her name that
of a woman of Israel? Are not Hebrew characters, of which the meaning
is hid from me, engraved upon the emerald amulet she wears, which her
mother gave to you with the jewels? Is not her appearance that of a
noble and beautiful lady of the Children of Judah, as you say was that
of her mother before her? At least I did say it and the prophet
hearkened. Dismounting from his mule he led me into the house and
there in a small room where stood many written rolls upon shelves, I
brought myself to his mind and told him all our story."

"'What would you have me do, Belus?' he asked when it was finished.
'It is true that I am still named Governor of Babylon, but my word
does not run against the king's, and it is Belshazzar, the king's son,
not Belteshazzar the prophet, who to-day has power in this evil city.'

"'I do not know,' I answered. 'Who am I that I should instruct the
greatest seer in Babylon?'

"'You tell me that you prayed--to what god I am not sure--and that my
name came to your mind, O Belus. Well, the example is good and I will
follow it, asking for light. Wait here a while and be silent.'

"Then he went to a window-place that jutted from the wall of the room,
and knelt down by the open window to pray, and watching his face from
where I sat, I saw that it shone as it were with light from within.
Yes, it shone like a lamp, so that I grew sure that his god was
speaking to him. If this were so he did not tell me what he had
learned, for when he rose from his knees all he said was,

"'I will not ride to my garden this day, though that is a sorrow to me
who longed for its peace. Nay, I will attend the court and there abide
what may happen.'

"'Cannot you see the king at once, O Prophet?' I asked.

"'No, it is impossible unless I am summoned. Moreover, no such counsel
has come to me. You are an astrologer and a priest of Marduk, are you
not? If so, go, dress yourself in the robes of your office or of your
false god and, as you have a right to do, attend at the court where I
think you will be needed.'

"'My false god,' I answered. 'Well at least he led me to you, O
Prophet. Tell me then who is the true God. For Him I have sought all
my life.'

"'Mayhap to find him at last to whom you draw near, for otherwise your
prayer would not have been answered. But of these matters we will
speak afterwards. Go now and do those things which your heart teaches
you. Go, and swiftly, for time presses.'

"So I went and what happened afterwards, you know, Ramose."



                             CHAPTER XVI

                          RAMOSE IS TEMPTED

Now for a while in this story of mine little happened that is worth
the telling. Belus and I dwelt together in the palace as we were
allowed to do by the decree of the king. Of Myra we saw nothing for it
was impossible to come at her. In this business the Prophet Daniel, or
Belteshazzar, was as a rock that cannot be moved or pierced. By the
help of Belus I saw and talked with him, though not in his own house,
showing him how hard was our case, and praying him at least to carry a
letter from me to Myra. He listened with a courteous patience, then
answered,

"Noble Egyptian, Ramose, hear my counsel. First of all, forget for a
while that you are an Egyptian; that your real name is Ramose and not
Ptahmes, and most of all, that you have had anything to do with a lady
called Myra, who chances to be in my charge as titular Governor of
Babylon and a prophet beloved by the king. At present all this is not
known, or has been forgotten, and you are thought of only as a
stranger suspected in error, and one admitted to the friendship of the
king because you are very learned in ancient histories and religions
which it pleases him to study. At least they are not known to
Belshazzar the prince and the king to be, who believes that the man
said to have married the lady Myra before the Pharaoh tried to palm
her upon Nabonidus, as a maiden of the royal House, is some noble of
Egypt who still dwells in that country. Were it otherwise, I think
that you would not live long, Ramose, for Belshazzar has many servants
in whose hands are daggers and no longer does he cause his victims to
be thrown into the great river unweighted with stones" (here he
glanced at Belus who was with me).

"All these things may be so, Prophet," I said. "Yet why should I not
see my wife in private, or at the least write to her?"

"Has not the king told you?" he answered sternly. "Then once and for
all I will. Because I have passed my word that no man should do so
while the king lives, O Ramose, and the word of Belteshazzar, still
known as the Governor of Babylon, may not be broken. Well is it for
you that this is so, and for the lady Myra also. Twice already has the
royal prince, Belshazzar, sent his commands to me under seal,
demanding that I should suffer him to capture this lady, by allowing
her to walk abroad beyond the shelter of my walls which are sacred to
the Babylonians, aye, more sacred than the sanctuaries of their own
temples, or at the least that I should give him access to her. Both
these commands I defied, thereby earning his added hate and threats of
vengeance. Can I then grant to you what I have refused the heir to
Babylon? Can I even allow writings to pass between you which, if they
were found, would mean the death of both and my dishonour?"

"At least tell me of her, Prophet, for that is not against your vow,"
I said humbly.

He thought a while; then answered,

"I may say this--she is well and after a fashion happy, who has
escaped great danger if only for a while; also for other reasons."

"What other reasons?"

"One of them is that she has learned with certainty of what blood she
comes through her mother. It is high, for this mother, as she told you
at her death, was truly the daughter of Zedekiah, the last king of
Judah, who when he fled from Jerusalem towards Jordan, took her with
him, a little maid. He was captured and brought to Riblah with a great
number of the people of Israel. Here Nebuchadnezzar in his rage
because he had rebelled against him, caused his sons to be slain
before his face. Then he blinded him and brought him as a slave to
Babylon, where for years he lay a prisoner in the dungeons of yonder
temple till at length his misery was ended in death. But the girl was
spared for she showed promise of beauty, and was afterwards given to
the Prince Merodach. You know the end of that story, Ramose, for you
saw her die in blood as her brothers died, and took away her babe and
reared it."

"How do you know these things, Prophet?" I asked eagerly.

"In sundry ways, Ramose. When I was young I knew her mother and that
she was killed in the battle between Merodach and the Egyptians in
which you took part. Also I know the emerald seal she wears, that has
cut on it the name of God in ancient Hebrew characters which I can
read. It is an old seal and has a long history. I remember it when it
hung about the neck of Myra's mother, as it did on that of her mother
before her. Moreover the truth of all this matter has been revealed to
me. Without doubt this lady Myra is descended from Zedekiah the weak
and the accursed and, as I think, is the last of his race left
living."

"It seems that I have a wife of high lineage," I said. "Well, I heard
as much before from the lips of the dying Mysia, but scarcely believed
it who thought that perhaps her mind wandered."

"Aye, Ramose, too high for safety, who on both sides is of the race of
kings. Still it has made her happy to learn the truth, because she
thinks that this will please you who have wed one of whom you need not
be ashamed. She is happy also because now I am leading her to worship
the God of her fathers Whom I serve, and lastly because she knows that
you live in this same city and believes that He will throw His shield
over you and her and keep you safe. For, Ramose, day and night she
thinks of you and prays to God for you."

Now when I heard this my heart melted in me with love and longing, so
that almost with tears I implored the prophet that even if I might not
speak or write to her, he would suffer me to look on Myra with my
eyes. At length he yielded.

"Hearken," he said. "Behind my house there is a little garden through
which runs a channel of water planted on its banks with willow trees.
Beneath these willows Myra sits in the cool of the afternoon, reading
or doing such tasks as please her. Now overlooking this garden is
another house that the king gave to me together with that in which I
dwell, where at times I shelter those of my race who need it. To-day
it is empty. Belus shall lead you there and from its upper window,
hidden yourself behind the shutter, you may look on Myra, although she
will not know that your eyes behold her. This you may do on one day in
every seven, that which is our Sabbath, and no more, swearing to me
that you will not attempt to call to her or show yourself, and this
for your sake as well as hers, also for the sake of me and of my oath.
Babylon is full of spies, O Ramose, and were it known that a man was
so much as gazing upon a lady of the king's household who is in my
charge, it would bring death to him and perhaps to her, with much
trouble upon me. Swear now and leave me."

So I swore and went.



The fourth day from that of my meeting with the prophet who was called
Belteshazzar, was that of the Sabbath of the worshippers of Jehovah,
and until it came it is true that I scarcely ate or slept, because the
desire to behold Myra burned me up. At noon on that day, when men
rested in the fierce heat and few were in the streets save beggars and
others who slept in such shade as they could find, Belus and I,
wrapped in the cloaks worn by the poorer class of traders in Babylon,
made our way to the house of which the prophet had spoken.

Passing to the back of this house which was set almost against the
wall of an old and deserted building, once occupied by priests and
therefore, for some superstitious reason, no longer dwelt in by
others, Belus led me to a secret entrance that could only be reached
through the wall and doubtless was used by the priests for their own
purposes when they owned this house in ancient days. At least there
was the narrow, hidden door that he unlocked with a strange key, and
beyond it a dark and twisting passage leading to the cellars of the
house whence a stair, or rather a ladder, ran to the floor above.
Locking the door behind us we climbed this ladder and came to a
stairway of brick that led to the upper rooms, for like many of the
houses of Babylon where land was precious, this was built in several
storeys.

Entering a room that was well but plainly furnished, we found in it a
window-place projecting from the wall of the house, around which were
fixed wooden shutters whereof the bars that were many, opened upon
hinges to admit air and to enable those in the room to look out whilst
they remained unseen from below.

Belus went to this window-place and tilting up one of the shutter
bars, showed me that beneath us at a distance of not more than ten or
twelve paces, lay an enclosed garden such as the prophet had
described, of which the house formed a boundary wall. There was the
stream, or rather ditch of water, planted with flowering lilies that
floated on its surface; there were the willow trees with their weeping
branches in which birds were nesting, and there beneath them were low
cushioned seats and a rough table of wood.

Here in this chamber we waited a long while, till at length the great
sun turned towards the west and the city around us, awakening from its
midday sleep, began to hum with life. Then at last we saw white hands
part the willow branches and a tall figure glide across a little
bridge of planks and enter the green arbour, as we could do easily
because the branches did not grow thickly towards the blank wall of
our house where there was little light and no sun. It was Myra--Myra
herself clad in simple white robes on which hung a single ornament,
the lily-bloom enclosed in crystal, but looking more beauteous in them
even than she had done when arrayed in jewels and glorious apparel,
she was brought into the palace halls of Babylon to be presented to
its king.

For a space she stood motionless gazing at the lilies floating upon
the water. Almost was I tempted to call to her; indeed I think I
should have done so, had not Belus, guessing my purpose, whispered in
my ear----

"Remember your oath."

I bit my lips and kept silence.

She sighed--I could hear her sigh; then sinking down upon the cushions
she bent forward and drew one of the floating lily blooms towards her
as though to pluck it. If so, she changed her mind for she loosed it
and taken by the current, it swung back to its place. Then she lifted
the crystal from her breast, studied the flower within, pressed it to
her lips and letting it fall, began to weep very softly, a sight that
I could scarcely bear.

At length she paused and wiping away her tears, sank to her knees upon
a cushion and prayed aloud but in so low a voice that I could hear
little of what she said. Still I caught some words, such as--"God of
my fathers. God above all gods, Thou that hast power even in mighty
Babylon and over the hearts of its princes." . . .

Then came murmurings not to be distinguished, and after them, these
words, spoken more clearly as though the weight of sorrow pressed them
from her heart:

". . . Ramose my most beloved, he from whom I have been stolen, my
husband whom my arms ache to hold. Oh! bring me to him or let me die.
Let me not be defiled by the touch of this vile prince who seeks me.
Nay, rather let me die clean and wait till Ramose comes to join me in
the grave."

She ceased her pitiful prayer, pressed the crystal case passionately
against her lips once more and drawing a roll from a satchel that she
had with her, began to read.

Not for long did she read, for presently she threw down the roll,
pressed her hands upon her heart as though to still its beating, and
glanced about her wide-eyed, while the colour came and went upon her
cheeks.

Then I knew that she felt me near to her. Yes, that love opened some
door in her breast through which had entered a knowledge that her
senses could not seize. In her agitation she spoke to herself in a low
and thrilling whisper that floating on the still air, reached me
faintly in the window-place.

"I feel Ramose near me," she said. "Is he dead? Does his loosed spirit
speak with mine yet captive in the flesh? Nay, it is his living love
that beats upon me, wave after wave of it filling the cup of my heart.
I dream! I dream! Oh! would that the dream might last for ever, for in
it his lips touch mine that hunger for them. Oh! Ramose my love,
Ramose my own, come to me, Ramose, and not in dreams."

Such words as these she murmured and others that I could not catch.

Now I was gripped by mad temptation. A strong creeping plant from
whose woody stems hung masses of blue flowers, climbed up the wall and
past our window-place, by aid of which it would not be difficult to
descend into that garden. In the fury of my great desire, honour and
all else was forgotten. I would descend. I would be with her; if only
for a breath I would hold her in my arms though my life should pay the
forfeit. Might I not take my own? Already, staggering like a drunken
man, I was at the shutter, purposing to push it back, when I heard the
voice of Belus whisper:

"Remember your oath, Ramose. Shall it be written that you are a liar?"

"By the gods, no!" I answered huskily. "Let us go before I fall."

With one last glance at the passionate loveliness of Myra, who seemed
to have taken fire from the power of her living dream and now stood
glancing about her with parted lips and heaving breast, I turned,
cursing my fate, and reeled towards the doorway. Behold! in it stood a
man, the prophet himself! He gazed at me sternly, yet with a little
smile playing about the corners of his thin mouth.

"You have fought well, Ramose, and gained a victory that one day
should not lack for its reward."

"Not I, but Belus," I muttered.

"Nay, Belus did but give tongue to your own conscience. Learn that had
you yielded, what you sought would never have been yours. Though none
can hear her words, eyes other than your own, the eyes of women and of
eunuchs, watch that lady always from a hidden place when she is
unguarded in the garden, and had a man been seen to join her, she
would have been dragged away to suffer the fate of those who are
faithless to the king. Yes, to die by fire or water--or if his
officers were very merciful, to be mutilated and made hideous, and
thus cast upon the streets where you would never find her, for you
would be dead."

I shivered, for Myra not for myself, because at that moment I thought
death would be better than so much suffering. Then words came to me
and I said,

"I have gone near to great evil. I pray your pardon for being but a
man. Prophet, unless you bid me, I will come to this place no more,
lest once again passion should lead me whither I would not go. If you
may, tell Myra that I have seen her and aught else that you think
wise, for it is not in the heart of woman to think the worse of one
who has done wrong because he loves her overmuch."

"So be it," he answered, still smiling faintly, and thus we parted.

Thus it came about that until fate drove me there, I came to that
house no more.



Now I have to tell of the death of Nabonidus. For many weeks I dwelt
on in the palace and almost every day this kindly old king, save when
he was too ill or too troubled with the affairs of state, sent for me,
and sometimes for Belus his cousin also, to talk with him about such
matters as the learned love. It was strange to see him, still one of
the mighty monarchs of the world, caring for none of its glories,
hating them even; turning his back upon high officers and lovely
women; upon the pomp, jewels and worship which in the East are offered
to the king, to give all his time and thought to the study of ancient
writings or forgotten temples, and to the history and attributes of a
thousand gods. Yet such was the pleasure of this shrewd but innocent
mind, and to it I was a minister. Indeed had I chosen, I might have
become great in Babylon, for he would have heaped on me any wealth and
offices that I desired. But I did not choose who sought above all
things to remain humble and unknown.

So under the name of Ptahmes, by which I had passed since I entered
Babylonia, I remained in the palace, as did scores of others to whom
it pleased the king to give hospitality in that vast building, which
covered almost as much ground as does the Great Pyramid near Memphis.

Here I gave out that I was an Egyptian born of a Cyprian mother at
Naukratis in the Delta, a man of independent means who followed after
learning and in its pursuit wandered from land to land, desiring to
see them and to study their customs and peoples that I might write of
them in a book. This tale was accepted readily enough for since I had
been acquitted by the king and admitted to his friendship, the
accusation against me of being a spy in the pay of Egypt or of Persia
was forgotten, as soon most things were in the vast metropolis of
Babylon, a city where memories were very short, especially concerning
those whom it pleased the king to favour. So I dwelt in peace,
consorting only with a few other learned men, to whom Belus made me
known as a friend of his with whom he had studied at Naukratis in
Egypt. For now Belus had recovered the lost ties of his youth and was
accepted everywhere as a noble of Babylon, a blood relation of the
king, a priest of the gods and an astrologer of high degree.

Here I should say that shortly after I had seen Myra in the prophet's
garden Belshazzar, the king's son and heir, left Babylon at the head
of a great army to wage war against Cyrus the Persian who was
threatening the empire, and while his enemy was away Belus was safer
than he had been before. Therefore he too remained at peace in the
city. Why he did so I was not sure, seeing that the place was still
perilous for him. When I asked him, he said that he would not leave me
and Myra with whom his lot was intertwined, and when I pressed him
further, that he was commanded to bide here by the stars which he
consulted after the fashion of the great astrologers of Babylon.

Yet all the while I knew that he was hiding his true reason. In those
days there was something fateful, even terrible about Belus. Often I
watched the old man pretending to read or to consult mysterious signs
written upon skins or tablets and noted that his mind was far away.
There he sat like a sphinx, his lips pressed together, his eyes, cold
and fixed, staring out at nothingness and his face grown fierce as
that of a lion which scents its prey.

At such times if I spoke to him all this would fall from him like a
mask; the eyes twinkled, the face grew friendly and a smile appeared
around the lips where it was wont to be, so that I wondered which was
the real appearance and which the mask. Little did I know of the great
schemes that seethed in the heart of Belus; of the mighty plots he
wove in his cunning brain and of the terrible revenge he planned, or
why at night he met many of the great ones of Babylon now here and now
there, and talked with them secretly.

When I asked him of these meetings he answered that those great lords
and priests came together to consult their stars, as indeed in a sense
they did. To this I said nothing though I thought it very strange that
men, however gifted, should be able to consult stars on nights of full
moon when the sky was almost as bright as day, or as I knew sometimes
was the case, in vaults beneath the piled-up mass of temples.

In the beginning I was vexed who felt that for the first time for many
years Belus had drawn a veil between us, hiding his secrets from me,
but after thought, I grew sure that this must be for some good reason.
So it was in truth, for as I learned later, he held that there was
much passing in Babylon which it would be dangerous for me to know,
because those who knew might suddenly find themselves face to face
with death.

On a certain day when, as was common, I had been summoned by one of
his chamberlains to wait upon Nabonidus in the private chamber where
he studied, surrounded by the statues of gods and other relics of
antiquity, I found the old king much changed. In body he seemed weaker
than I had ever known him. He could scarcely rise from his chair
without my help, and to do so left him almost breathless for a while.
I asked if he were ill and if so why he did not summon his physician.

"No, not ill, Friend," (for so he often called me now) "but only
burning out. Physicians cannot help me and I will have no more of
them. Indeed for the matter of that, I have seen Belus, my cousin and
your companion, who having studied in Egypt among the Greeks, knows
more than do most of those in Babylon, who doctor men according to
their reading of the stars or the divinations of those who consult
omens."

"What did Belus tell you, O King?"

"Nothing, Friend. He bade me open my robe and set his ear against my
naked breast and listened to my heart. Then he shook his head and was
silent and I knew that the day of my fate was upon me."

"May the King live for ever!" I murmured in the accustomed form, not
knowing what else to say.

"Aye," he answered smiling, "so long as it is not in another Babylon
beyond the Gates of Darkness. Friend, I must go as all these have
gone," and he pointed to the statues of dead monarchs that stood about
the room and to the writings sealed with their seals. "I will tell you
the truth. I am glad to go, though I must be stripped of all my pomp
and power and pass naked to whence I came."

He paused a while, then went on,

"Egyptian, they say that dying eyes see far, and certainly I see much
woe coming upon Babylon, or at the least upon her kings. Have you not
heard of Cyrus the Persian?"

I bent my head.

"And have you heard that this great man, for he is great, has but now
defeated Belshazzar my son at Opis and threatens Zippar?"

"I have not heard it, O King."

"Yet it is so, for swift posts have brought the news. Doubtless soon
his armies will threaten Babylon, aye, and as I think, take it, for
both the people and the army hate the Prince, my son, and will fight
for him but feebly, making an end of my House and its rule, and
perchance of the ancient city, queen of the world, also."

Again he paused, and presently continued,

"If so, she has brought it on her own head, for I tell you, Egyptian,
that Babylon is evil; aye, she is a bladder filled with sin and the
blood of peoples, a bladder waiting to be pricked. Belshazzar, too,"
he added with passion, "my son who already rules the empire in all but
name, is an evil man. From his boyhood up he has been turbulent,
lustful, cruel and bloody, one who wades through death to his desires,
a tyrant, a betrayer of his friends. Moreover it is too late for him
to change who is past his fiftieth year. How long will the gods bear
with such a man? Against our foes he might fight, for the empire still
is mighty, but can he fight the enemies in his own house? I tell you
the people murmur against him and the nobles plot to overthrow him
when I am gone. So let me go where, being innocent, I hope for peace.
Blessed are the dead for they sleep, or if they wake, of earth and its
troubles they know no more."

Thus he spoke in a voice that grew faint and yet fainter till it ended
in a kind of wail and died into silence, so that I thought he was
about to swoon. But it was not so, for presently he recovered his
strength and said,

"I talk much of myself as is the fashion of the aged, and of what I
fear or feel, forgetting that others also have evils to bear and face.
You for example, Friend. Let me think, what were they? Oh! I remember.
That beauteous woman whom the dog Amasis tried to palm off on me as a
princess of Egypt, but who, it seems, is a private lady and your wife,
or so you and Belus swear. I hear she swears it also, but in such
matters none can believe what comes out of a woman's mouth. The
business is unhappy. Could I have my will, you might take her at once
and welcome, but here I face a rock which even the king cannot move,
namely the law concerning the ladies of the royal household on which
one might think that the whole empire of Babylon was built. Moreover
someone is at work in this matter, for when on your behalf and hers,
that old prophet of Judah put it into my mind to try to find a way
round this rock, all paths were blocked, I know not by whom."

"Perhaps by the Prince Belshazzar," I hazarded.

"It may be so; indeed it is very likely, for Belshazzar is always
coveting this one or that, even though they be of his father's
household, at any rate in name. Well, I say that the way is blocked
and if I tried to force a path, the priests would stir as though an
insult had been done to their gods. Yes, there would be scandals and
talk of impiety by an unbelieving king, that would serve the purpose
of the plotters against my House among the vulgar, and I know not what
besides. So nothing can be done."

"That is sad for me and my wife," I said sighing.

"Yes, of course, though it it strange that it should be so. There are
so many women in the world that it seems foolish for a man to break
his heart over any one of them, when doubtless a fairer awaits him in
the next street. Also there is hope in the case. Much trouble has
arisen about this lady with Egypt against whom, because of her,
Babylon has threatened war. Now Amasis the Pharaoh pretending to be
insulted and believing you, the husband, to be dead,--I thought it
well for your own sake to tell him that the man who bore forged
letters to Cyrus of whom he warned us, had been caught and executed as
a spy--demands that his daughter, as he calls her, should be sent back
to him with a great present of gold. Yet this cannot be done for the
reason I have told you, namely that she has been taken into the royal
household."

"Then it seems there is an end, O King."

"Not so, for have I not told you, Friend, that even in Babylon kings
do not live for ever. When I die my household is dissolved, at least
after a time, and I shall die soon. Therefore because you are a
brother scholar who has solaced my last months I have made a plan to
serve you. As this lady and I have never met but once and that in open
court, I have issued a royal decree that immediately upon my death she
shall be set at liberty and sent back to Egypt with all her belongings
and a gift. Moreover I have appointed that you, under the name of
Ptahmes by which you are called here, for none know you to be her
husband, and Belus shall accompany her, as you also wish to return to
Egypt in safety, though if you are wise neither of you will set foot
in that land while Amasis reigns. No, when you have crossed the
borders of this country and are free, you will turn and fly whither
you will, out of reach of Amasis and of Belshazzar.

"There, that is all. I am weary. The decree has been registered in due
form, sealed with my own seal, and you will find a copy of it in your
lodgings, for it was given to Belus only to-day that it might not
miscarry. Farewell, Friend. Your theory of the beginning of the gods
is most wise and pregnant; soon I shall learn whether it be true.
Farewell and may all good fortune be yours. When you are as old as I
am, think sometimes of Nabonidus whom they called a king, but who knew
himself to be a ruler of nothing, no, not even of his own heart. Ho!
chamberlain, take me hence, I would sleep."



                             CHAPTER XVII

                         AT THE WESTERN GATE

What Nabonidus promised me, he performed. In my lodgings I found Belus
waiting with the writings under the royal seal, whereby he and I were
given safe conduct to leave Babylon when we would and go whither we
would, which writings all the officers of the empire were commanded to
obey. In them, however, nothing was said concerning Myra. I asked
Belus what this meant and whether I had been tricked. He answered no,
for other writings had been sent to the prophet Daniel or
Belteshazzar, as he knew from his own lips, commanding him so soon as
the news of the death of the king should reach him, to hand over Myra,
with her woman named Metep, to an escort charged to conduct her to the
frontiers of the land and there leave her to await the coming of
another escort from Egypt.

I listened and answered that I liked the plan little.

Where, I asked, must we meet Myra and how were we to know when she
left the prophet's house? Also, even if all should go well, what would
happen when we came to the frontiers of the empire, where perhaps she
would fall into the power of Egyptians waiting to receive her, and I
with her. If so, our case would be even worse than it was before.

"Ramose," answered Belus, "we wander in the darkness of night and must
follow the only star that we can see. Like you, neither the prophet
nor I think well of this plan. Yet if we do not act upon it, which way
can we turn? It is certain that while the king lives, not even he can
command that Myra should be sent from Babylon."

"Why not?" I asked angrily.

"I think that he has told you himself, namely, because he whose duty
it is to administer the law, must not break the law. Moreover, if he
gave the order it would not be obeyed, because under these same
ancient statutes any man who touches or holds converse with a lady of
the royal household, is criminal, an outcast to be slain by whoever
can or will. Once the king is dead it is otherwise, for the edicts
which he has signed must be fulfilled, unless indeed they are revoked
by other edicts of the new king."

"Which will surely happen, Belus."

"Aye, it will happen--if there is time. For as I have heard from a
sure source, Belshazzar when in his cups gave out that so soon as he
had power he would certainly take this Egyptian Myra whom it was the
pleasure of the king his father to keep from him, and whom therefore
he desired more than any woman in the world. Indeed he is foolish
about the matter, having been smitten by the sight of her beauty when
she appeared at the court as though by a sword, and, as he says,
wounded through the heart. Certainly had it not been for the law as to
the King's wives, and still more because of his fear of the prophet in
whose holy charge she is, already he would have seized and smuggled
her away."

"Then this he will surely do as soon as the king is dead, Belus."

"Aye--I repeat, if he has time. But should Nabonidus die soon,
Belshazzar is not in Babylon. With the remainder of his great army he
is in Zippar that Cyrus besieges. There perhaps he may be killed or
made prisoner, or many things may happen. Also Nabonidus is not yet
dead. He may pass at any minute, or he may live for months, as men
suffering from the heart sometimes do. Everything is dark and
doubtful. Still we must be prepared to act at any moment. Therefore
let us forget our fears and go straightforward, though for my part,"
he added darkly, "I do not believe that fate will take me from Babylon
till a certain doom has been accomplished."

This then we did who could find no better counsel, putting our faith
in the goodness of God, and trusting that we should find help in our
need.

Having wealth at our command we bought swift horses and hired
servants, faithful men of Israelite descent and free citizens who
could go where they would and who desired to leave Babylon, which men
and horses we kept at hand in a safe place near to the western gate
whence we must start for Egypt. Also Belus devised a scheme which
provided that Metep should hang a cloth from a window of the prophet's
house, telling us when her mistress was about to leave so that we
might be ready to start to join her. And many other things we did that
need not be told.



At length Nabonidus died very suddenly. From the time that I had last
seen him he had kept his bed, sleeping a great deal and paying no heed
to anybody or anything that passed, till on a certain afternoon he
rose, saying that he felt quite well again, and went to his favourite
chamber, that in which I was wont to visit him. Here while he was
walking up and down, some message was brought to him by one of the
great officers, of which all we could learn was that it had to do with
Belshazzar and the Persian war. Whether the news was good or ill I do
not know, but this is certain, that Nabonidus said aloud,

"It is the will of God. My day of fate has come."

Then he set his hand upon his heart, fell down, groaned once, and
died.

Such was the end of this weak but honest and kindly man, a scholar of
whom to his sorrow destiny had made a king over a doomed empire. In
one thing at least Heaven was good to him, he did not live to see it
fall.

Having bribed certain eunuchs and a scribe, Belus and I were among the
first, if not the very first, to know that all was over, that is, save
the prophet who learned it in his spirit as he learned many things.
Instantly we rushed to the appointed place where our horses and goods
awaited us, whence we could see the house of Daniel and watch.
Presently at a window appeared a white cloth showing us that there too
all was known and that Myra was about to start with her escort.

This was the plan--that we should stand to one side till she had
passed the gate, and follow with our men to the first camping place,
where we could discover ourselves to the captain of the escort who had
been warned that we should join him. Having authority under the seal
of the late king and his vizier that we could show, if there were
need, this, we thought, would be easy, especially as the death of
Nabonidus was not known in the city and perhaps might be kept from the
people for hours--or days.

We came to the gate as the sun began to sink, and waited as though for
some friend or other merchants to join us there, for we were disguised
as traders. At length through the gloom, which gathered very quickly
that night, because after some days of terrible heat the sky was full
of thunderclouds which were about to burst, with beating hearts we saw
a company coming down the street towards the gate that pierced the
mighty wall of Babylon. A captain rode ahead of it, then came
soldiers, a dozen or more of them, and in their midst mounted upon
white mules two veiled women, one tall and graceful as a reed, the
other short and thick in body, at the sight of whom my heart leapt for
I knew them to be Myra and old Metep. After these followed other mules
and asses laden with baggage, tents and so forth, and accompanied by
servants. As they passed us I saw the tall lady turn as though to
stare at me through her veil. Then I was sure that Myra had seen and
knew me, and bent my head a little, which she answered by bending
hers.

To-night, I thought to myself with joy, we may speak together in some
camp, if no more. To-night our troubles may be over and our long
separation ended.

At that moment, while my heart was filled with this happy dream, came
the first flash of the storm. Like a sword of fire it seemed to strike
the watch towers set upon the crest of the wall high above us, and in
a line of blinding light passed down the pillar of one of the inner
brazen gates into the earth, with a noise and a shock that caused the
horses of the officer and some of the soldiers to wheel round and
charge back among those that followed. Confusion came, and shoutings,
for all believed that men had been killed by the flame from heaven,
whereas in fact one or two had been unhorsed--no more. Then the
clamour was covered and lost by the crash of thunder pealing overhead.
It died away and for a little while there was silence, through which I
heard the officer rallying his men with words of command; no easy
matter, for they were entangled with the baggage animals whose drivers
were frightened and knew not what to do.

Then I heard something else, namely, the sound of a horse galloping.
The lightning flashed again piercing the gloom. It shone upon the
gilded armour of a captain of the royal bodyguard riding at full speed
who, as he passed me, cried,

"The King is dead. Ho! Warden, shut the gates that none may make it
known to the enemies of Babylon!"

The officer in charge of the escort heard and strove to press forward
through the long archway of the wall before he was cut off. Too late!
With a great clashing, worked by their engines, the outer gates of
bronze swung home in front of him. He called for the warden of the
gates and showed him a writing which it was too dark to read. They
wrangled together as Belus and I, who with our people had followed
them into the archway, could hear. There was great disorder. Some
pressed forward and some pressed back, for all who could had rushed
into the tunnel to escape the lightnings and the heavy rain that began
to fall. Men thrust, horses neighed and trampled, moving to and fro
and mingled together. Presently I found myself by the side of a figure
clad in white which jostled against me.

"Your pardon," said a gentle voice, and I knew it for that of Myra!

"Myra," I whispered, "it is I--Ramose!"

"Oh! my love, my love," she whispered back, and next moment I had bent
down and was kissing her upon the lips, cursing the veil that lay
between us. Yes, and she was kissing me. But one kiss and it was done,
for we were thrust apart again.

The tumult and wrangling increased. The officer in charge of Myra's
escort demanded that the gates should be opened and threatened the
wardens. A loud voice cried,

"In the name of Belshazzar, King of Babylon, it is commanded that none
leave Babylon."

Between the bellowings of the thunder I heard the clattering of
horses' hoofs and chariot wheels. Again a voice cried,

"A woman of the royal household escapes. Seize her!" words at which my
blood ran cold.

Another voice answered,

"They are here--two of them!"

Armed men rushed upon the mob. The escort gathered round Myra and
Metep, whose white dresses could be seen dimly through the gloom and
more clearly when the lightning flashed. I and my people did likewise.
Swords were drawn; there was confused fighting. A huge black man in
brazen armour seized Myra's mule by the bridle and began to drag it
back towards the street; Metep screamed; soldiers cursed. I attacked
the black man. He smote at me and missed, I thrust my sword through
his throat and he fell, dead or dying. Others seized the woman; the
scene in that narrow place as the lightning showed it, was terrible.
All shouted, all smote scarcely knowing at whom they smote, while
Metep still screamed long and loud. My horse was thrust back against
the bars of the gate, plunging and kicking. Someone struck me on the
head, I think with a club, causing me to drop my sword and almost
stunning me. When my wits came again I was outside the archway in the
narrow street whither my horse had borne me, following others.

The storm raged more fiercely than before and the rain poured down.
Far up the street I saw soldiers retreating and in the midst of them
two figures in white. The lightning showed them clearly, also many men
in flight. In the darkness that followed the flash someone approached
and a voice spoke. It was that of Belus.

"All is finished, Ramose," he said. "The guards of the household of
Belshazzar have snatched away Myra. Come now quickly before we are
known to have taken part in this tumult, else we shall be seized and
slain. I have told our servants where they may find us."

Still dazed by the blow I followed him, who knowing the city from
boyhood, led me through a maze of streets where none was stirring
because of the great storm and the darkness of the falling night.
After us came our servants, or most of them, and the laden beasts.

"Where have they taken Myra?" I asked with a groan.

"Doubtless to Belshazzar's palace," he answered. "Yet be comforted. He
is not in Babylon. She has been seized because of commands which he
left with his great officers who have watched the prophet's house day
and night lest she should escape."

"A curse is on us," I muttered. "We are dogged by evil. Another hour
and we had been free. Could not your spells have protected us for one
hour, Belus?"

"The tale is not yet finished," he answered quietly. "Mayhap this evil
has protected us from greater that we do not see. Mayhap it is
appointed that we still have work to do in Babylon, whither I at least
must have returned even if we had escaped to-night, though this I hid
from you."

"Have done!" I exclaimed fiercely. "Myra is in the house of Belshazzar
and who can save her now?"

"God," he answered and was silent.

"Whither go we--to our lodgings?" I asked presently.

"Nay, it would not be safe. We go to that house whence once you looked
upon a garden. It is the prophet's and holy ground which none dares
violate, not even Belshazzar, because he believes that to do so would
bring a curse and perhaps death upon him. Had it been otherwise Myra
would have been seized long ago."



So, broken in spirit for all seemed lost, once again I entered that
Hebrew guest-house by the secret way, not caring whether or no I were
dragged from it to my death. Indeed I was as a little child and did
what Belus bade me, asking no questions. He managed all, finding
lodging for the men in the outbuildings of the house, bringing food
and I know not what besides.

That night the prophet came to us. I looked up from the stool on which
I was seated, my head resting on my hand and saw him standing before
me, tall, black-robed, thin-faced, dark-eyed, white-haired; more like
a ghost than a man. I would have risen to bow to him, but he stayed me
with his hand.

"You are weary," he said, "and smitten to the heart. Rest where you
are and listen. All seems to have gone awry. The lady Myra, my ward,
has been snatched away and now, as I have sure tidings, is a prisoner
among the women of Belshazzar, and in his own palace which once was
that of Nebuchadnezzar the great king. Nor, good old Nabonidus being
dead, can I take her hence, for none so much as reads the edicts of
departed kings. Who prays to the sun that is set?"

"How did it happen, Prophet?" I asked wearily.

"This house was watched," he answered. "From the beginning Belshazzar,
the woman-hunter, having once seen her beauty, determined to possess
himself of Myra if ever she passed my doors which all Babylonians hold
inviolate. When she went forth spies reported it to his officers, or
perhaps the hour of her going was already known through some traitor.
If so, here and now I call down upon him the wrath of God," and he
lifted his hand to heaven, then bowed his head, muttering some words.

"At least she was taken, as you saw, for as is common the tidings of
the death of a king, the guardians closed the gates, which they must
do. Nor would it have helped if she had passed them, for she would
have been followed and seized, and you with her. As it is, both you
and Belus have escaped because you were not noted in the darkness of
the archway as having fought against the guards of Belshazzar, aye,
and slew their captain. Therefore you are safe here and in sanctuary
where none dares to set a foot lest the curse of Jehovah should fall
upon him, and here you must bide till all is accomplished."

"What will happen to Myra?" I asked.

"At present--nothing, save that she will be fed on sweet-meats,
perfumed with scents and purified, according to the custom of these
Babylonian hogs with women who are dedicate to the king. Then, at such
time as he shall appoint, she will be offered to him, as a lamb is
offered upon an altar, and if she pleases him, be set high in his
household, perhaps upon the throne itself."

Hearing these horrible words I went mad. I raved; I cursed; yes, I
reviled this Daniel or Belteshazzar.

"You are reported a great prophet," I said, "one who worships a just
and mighty god that even the Babylonians revere, although he be but
the lord of a conquered, captive people. Yet you tell me that such a
crime will be worked upon an innocent woman because she is accursed
with great loveliness, by a king who is but a brute in human shape. If
your god and hers be a true god, as they say Nebuchadnezzar held he
was, let him manifest himself and save her, his servant. Then I will
worship him whom otherwise I name but another idol."

The prophet looked at me and smiled, a strange and quiet smile.

"Poor man!" he said. "What do you know of God and of His ways? This
day by the gate you slew a gallant soldier who did but obey his orders
to capture certain persons. He had committed no sin. He knew nothing
of this business, yet God suffered that you should drive your sword
through His throat and bring him down to death unavenged, for in that
darkness none saw who smote him."

"Did you see?" I asked angrily.

"Perhaps, with the eyes of my spirit. Or perhaps I learned it
otherwise. It matters nothing. At least God commanded that he should
be slain, we know not why. So God has commanded that this woman of my
people who is your wife, should be captured, we know not why. Yet it
may please Him to save her at the last, or it may not please Him. Let
the scroll of fate unroll itself at the appointed time and bow your
head before what is written there."

Then he lifted his hand as though in blessing and departed.



So it came about that I took up my abode with those servants whom we
had hired, citizens of Babylon but all of them of the Israelite faith,
who, after what had happened at the gateway, thought that they would
be safest here until they could leave the city with me, or otherwise.
But although he often came to visit me at night, Belus dwelt elsewhere
with friends of his own, now in one place, now in another. When I
asked him why, all he would say was that it must be so, adding darkly
that he was a marked man with many enemies, and now that Nabonidus was
dead, if we consorted together I should be marked also.

For my part I was but little known and so long as I remained under the
shelter of the prophet's roof, one who would not be harmed, unless by
evil fortune the King's Council heard that it was I who had killed the
officer of the guard while attempting to aid the escape of the
beautiful Egyptian.

So guessing that Belus had other reasons as well as those which he set
out, I let the matter be, though in truth my life in this place was
very sad and lonely with no companion save my own thoughts which were
black enough. I did not dare to go abroad for the prophet forbade it,
and of the few learned men and royal servants whom I had met in
Babylon while I waited on Nabonidus, none came to visit me. Indeed
either I was forgotten, or believed to be dead, or to have departed.

In Babylon not many strangers were remembered even for a month among
the thousands from all countries who came and went on the business of
their trades, or to visit the temples, or study the wonders of the
mightiest city of the earth. Also, now that Nabonidus was dead, his
court was dispersed and his great palace in which alone my face had
been seen, stood empty, for that of Belshazzar, the new king, was in
another quarter of the city. Therefore I was quite unknown, for as
Belus told me, the company that had captured us on our road from
Damascus had, it chanced, been sent upon duty to a distant part of the
empire.

From time to time the prophet visited me and we talked together. I
told him the history of my life and in his grave and gentle voice he
instructed me in many matters, especially in the faith and nature of
the God he worshipped. Through His strength, he said, he interpreted
dreams and worked marvels, which caused him to be feared of the
Babylonians from the days of Nebuchadnezzar and, although they were
jealous of his magic as they held it to be, bowed down to by the
magicians and interpreters of dreams as one greater than they. So
earnestly did he instruct me and with such power, that at length I,
who all my life had searched for a true God and been able to find
none, came to accept Him of Daniel, as indeed I think it was in his
mind that I should do. Thus it came about that in the presence of
certain of the captive Israelites I, although of another race, was
admitted to the company of the worshippers of Jehovah. To that faith,
rejecting all the multitude of the gods of Greece and Egypt, I hold
to-day.

For the rest, thenceforward that holy prophet treated me as one dear
to him, one to whom he could open some if not all of the doors of his
secret heart. He gave me sacred books to read and expounded their
mysteries. Filled with fire from Heaven he repeated prophecies,
whether his own or those of other seers I do not know, that foretold
the fall of Babylon, Queen of the world.

"Behold all this," he said, pointing to the glittering city that on
every side stretched further than the eye could see, to its towering
temples and its vast encircling walls. "I say, Ramose, that of it not
one brick shall remain upon another; it shall be a wilderness where
shepherds feed their flocks by day and the lions prowl at night; an
abode of death for ever. The curse of God hangs over Babylon."

Once more I became a recluse as I had been at Cyprus, more so indeed,
for then I heard the voice of the infant Myra prattling about the
house and busied myself with my trade. Now I studied alone, or walked
in the garden where once I had seen Myra and been tempted to break my
oath, thinking and dreaming till, had it not been for a certain
comfort which flowed to me from that quiet prophet and from the new
faith he had taught me, I believe my heart would have broken. Even so
I grew pale and thin, as he noted, for often I saw him watching me,
after which he would speak hopeful words, bidding me to take heart
because all that is hidden is not lost.

From Myra no whisper reached me. She had vanished into the secret
courts of the frowning palace of Belshazzar where, when he was in
Babylon, he held his orgies, and the world saw her no more. If the
prophet knew aught of her fate he hid it from me. From Egypt, too, no
news came, though much I wondered what had passed there and what had
chanced to the mother who had treated me so ill, and to the plotting
Pharaoh who had made a tool of me hoping that I should return no more.

So except for the rare visits of Belus, who to me appeared changed and
bent down beneath the weight of hidden business of which he would not
speak, and for the converse of the prophet who seemed more of an angel
than a man, from day to day I dwelt quite alone, feeding my heart on
hope that grew ever fainter and strengthening my soul as best I might
with prayer.



                            CHAPTER XVIII

                              THE LETTER

One night when I sat brooding in my chamber at the guest-house of the
prophet, playing with food that I could not eat, a servant opened the
door and through it came Belus. With much joy I rose to greet him whom
I had not seen for many days, for always I longed for his company in
my loneliness, but without taking the hand I offered him, he sank upon
a couch, saying,

"If you have wine, give it me."

I filled him a cup unmixed with water. He swallowed it and asked for
more which he drank also. As he did so his dark cloak fell open and I
saw that beneath it his tunic was stained with blood and that a short
sword thrust through his girdle, for its scabbard seemed to have been
lost, was likewise still wet with blood.

"Whence do you come?" I asked.

"Out of the jaws of death," he answered. "Certain of my friends and I
were supping together when the door burst open--doubtless it was some
traitor's work--and a number of soldiers rushed into the room. An
officer summoned us to surrender in the name of Belshazzar the King,
calling out the names of most there present, and mine among them.

"'Would you work sacrilege against the gods and their priests?' cried
one of us, for we were supping in chamber of the temple where none but
the ordained might enter.

"'The King of the God of gods. Obey the King or die!' shouted the
officer.

"He spoke no more, for a man of our company, I know not who, hurled a
knife, or a sword, with such strength and so true an aim that it
pierced that captain from breast to back and he fell down dead. Then
began the fight. We were well armed and wore corselets beneath our
robes, for we knew that we went in peril; also we were desperate who
did not desire to die by torment.

"We cast the flagons and the stools in their faces, aye, and the
burning lamps. We leapt upon them like lions. We slew them, though of
us, too, some were slain. We hurled them, living or dead, from the
window-places to fall a hundred cubits and be crushed at the foot of
the temple towers to make food for jackals. Then we scattered and fled
and here I am, bloody but unhurt."

"And what now, Belus?" I asked. "Do you seek sanctuary with the
prophet?"

"Nay, I seek horses and men to ride with me, also a bag of gold, for
my lodgings will be watched and I dare not return to them."

"These you can have, Belus, for they are here. But whither go you?
Back towards Egypt?"

"Not so. I go----" here he bent forward and whispered in my ear--"I go
to Cyrus the Persian who advances upon Babylon the accursed. I go to
tell him that her gates will open to him and that if he will but purge
her of her rulers and punish their iniquities, the millions of the
people will welcome him. Do not stare, Ramose. What I say is true. Not
in vain have I worked for all these moons to fulfil the decrees of God
upon Belshazzar the murderer, and his evil counsellors."

"Oh! that I might go with you," I said.

"Nay, you must bide here where none knows what may happen. They say
that Zippar is about to fall, but I hear also that Belshazzar purposes
to desert his army and slipping away like a snake, to return to
Babylon which he believes impregnable, hoping for help from Egypt and
thinking that before its walls Cyrus and his Persians will certainly
be destroyed. Therefore if Belshazzar comes to Babylon you must be
here, for then who knows what will chance to Myra who is captive in
his palace?"

"Who knows indeed?" I moaned, "and alas! how can I help her?"

"I cannot say, but doubtless there is a road. I read of it in the
stars, though God alone can point it out. Now I go to speak with the
prophet. Do you bid them make the horses ready--four horses and three
men."

"How will you pass the gates?" I asked.

"The gates of Babylon are open to me," he said darkly and glided from
the room.



Belus went out of my sight and knowledge. Day followed day, moons
waxed and waned and I heard no more of him, nor whether he were dead
or living, or had fled to some other land. Now I was quite alone and
save my servants and sometimes the prophet, I saw no man. Of him I
asked, what had become of Belus and if he had heard aught of the fray
in the temple of which I have spoken. He answered that he did not know
where Belus was, but he believed him to be still alive, for he thought
that if he were dead some voice which have told him so in his sleep, a
saying which comforted me who knew that this prophet was not as are
other men, but one who communed with Heaven and to whom from time to
time, Heaven gave tidings.

"As regards the fray in the temple," he went on, "I have naught to
say, if I know anything. To all tales of conspiracies I shut my ears.
Why should I heed them? Men think that they do this or that, but it is
God Who works through them. Therefore I await the decrees of God and
watch for the falling of His sword. What He reveals to me I know, to
all else my ears are shut."

I bowed my head, being sure that to dispute with him was useless; as
soon would I have attempted to reason with a spirit. Then I inquired
of him whether I might now go abroad, seeing that all must have
forgotten me.

He answered somewhat sternly,

"Did I not tell you, Ramose, that here and nowhere else you are safe.
Here then bide and be patient."

So I obeyed him; only I did this, knowing that if it were not lawful
he would forbid me. Finding that a steep and narrow stair led to the
roof of the tall house, I went up it and often sat there, crouching
behind the parapet in the daytime and leaning over it at night when I
could not be seen from below. This house stood very high, being built
upon a mound where once, perhaps, was a palace or a temple now long
fallen except for some walls of which I have written. Therefore from
its roof I could see much of Babylon; its great buildings, its open
places, its gardens, its soaring towers, its embracing walls, Nimitti-
Bel, the outer wall like to which there is no other in the world, and
Ingue-Bel the inner wall, both of them held to be impregnable, its
citadel rising from an enormous platform of dried bricks between the
two; its temples of Enurta, Marduk and Ishtar with its lovely gate;
its thousand streets where all day multitudes moved up and down, the
great river Euphrates to the west and among its many royal dwellings,
the vast palace of Nebuchadnezzar where Belshazzar had made his home.

It was on this palace that always I fixed my eyes, for I knew that up
its steps guarded by statues of gods and demons, Myra had been borne
and that somewhere in its courts she dwelt, lonelier and perchance
more afraid, if that were possible, than even I, her husband. Night by
night I would watch the cressets flaring upon its walls, wondering
what passed there and throwing out my heart to the captive whom they
hid. But alas! no answer came. Had she been in Egypt, had she been in
Hades, she could not have seemed further from me, or more lost.

In the daytime, too, I stared at the streets and places where people
gathered, and noted, or so I thought, a change in the demeanour of
these people. They seemed more hurried than they were wont to be; they
stopped and spoke to each other, head close to head, like folk who
tell each other tidings that must not be overheard; or they gathered
into knots and crowds in the squares and open places and were
addressed by officers. Then troops would come and disperse them and
they fled sullenly, sometimes leaving certain of their number on the
ground dead or wounded, whom slaves or watchmen bore away on
stretchers. Certainly all was not well in Babylon.

Among the servants who were left to me after the departure of Belus,
was a man called Obil, an Israelite by descent, though a citizen of
Babylon, a quiet man who seldom spoke unless he was spoken to, but one
to whom I took a liking and learned to trust, as indeed the prophet
had told me I might do, for he was of his faith, that had become mine
also. This Obil often went abroad in Babylon, especially at night, and
having friends there, gathered much tidings.

When I discovered this I began to speak with him apart and learned
many things. He told me that great fear had come upon Babylon, partly
because of the war with Persia which, it was rumoured, went very ill,
and partly because of the dark sayings of the magicians and
astrologers who prophesied evil at hand--much evil, and the wrath of
God about to fall upon the ancient city.

Listening to these tales I wondered to myself whether Belus had been
one of the astrologers who spread abroad this prophecy. Then I asked
what of Belshazzar and whether the people loved him as they did
Nabonidus the Peaceful, although him the priests did not love because
he meddled with their gods.

"Of Belshazzar, Master," said Obil, "the news is that he is still with
the army at Zippar, yet not so closely invested by the Persians that
he cannot send messages daily, sometimes by word of mouth and
sometimes in writing, to his officers in Babylon; yes, even about
small matters," he added with meaning. "I know it, for the sister of
one of the messengers is a friend of mine."

"What kind of small matters?" I asked as carelessly as I could.

"Well, for example, Master, such as that which has to do with the lady
who came from Egypt to be of the late king's household, and who
afterwards was sent to the prophet's house by the royal command; the
same with whom we were to travel when the gates were shut upon us on
that night of storm and there was fighting in the gateway."

Now my blood ran cold, but turning my head to hide my face I asked
again,

"And why does Belshazzar send messages about this lady, Obil? Did your
friend's sister tell you that?"

"Yes, Master, she did and the reason is very strange, though I who in
my time have served in the households of the great lords of the earth
and watched their ways, know that it is true. Kings and princes and
others of their kind, Master, have everything at their command; power
which some desire; wealth which most desire, and especially women whom
all desire if they be really men. Therefore having all, they become
sated like gorged brutes, and of the fair women that are offered to
them continually few catch their fancy. Now and again, however, they
see one for whom they would give half their kingdom, especially if it
be not lawful that they should take her, or if they know that for this
reason or for that she turns from them.

"Such it seems is what has happened in the case of Belshazzar and the
lady from Egypt who is named Myra. He saw her at the court when old
Nabonidus, the late king, being moved by her wondrous beauty,
descended from his throne and publicly received her to himself. That
was before this lady told Nabonidus, as I heard with my own ears being
then a servant of the court, that she was no princess of Egypt; also
that she was already married to a man from whom she had been stolen.
Perhaps you have been told the story, Master."

"Yes, Obil, and I have learned that thereon Nabonidus committed her to
the charge of our great prophet whose sanctuary none dares to violate,
and we know the rest."

"That is so. Still, part of this story may be new to you, if my
friend's sister tells it truly. Not even Belshazzar dares to violate
the sanctuary of the holy prophet of Israel whom he fears above any
man that lives, because like Nebuchadnezzar before him, he believes
him to be almost a god. Yet he caused it to be watched by many spies
and gave strict command to his officers, for which they must answer
with their lives, that if the lady came out of that sanctuary, even by
order of the king his father, she should be seized and carried to his
palace, there to be given to him when he returns. This, Master, as you
know, was done."

"Is this all that your friend's sister told you, Obil?"

"No, Master. It appears that Belshazzar who now is king, has been
smitten with a madness concerning this fair woman, so that he thinks
more of her than he does of the war with the Persians or any other
matter, which madness has increased greatly since a rumour has reached
him that the man to whom she was married, is not in Egypt but hidden
in Babylon. This is his desire--to find that man and cause him to be
tormented to death before her very eyes and while he lies dying, to
appear and drag her away. For such, Master, are the royal pleasures of
great kings."

"Does he know this man's name, Obil?"

"According to my friend's sister who seems to hear all secrets, he is
not sure of the name, but he believes the man to be Belus, also known
as Azar, an enemy of his own to whom he worked some injury in the
past, and by birth a great lord of Babylon; he who appeared before
Nabonidus and told a tale as to this lady being wed to a noble of
Egypt. At the last, although he is not sure whether he be the man, he
seeks everywhere for Belus, that he may capture him and put him to the
question, or failing that, kill him outright."

"As nearly chanced the other day," I said.

"Yes, Master, but Belus escaped him and now has left Babylon with some
of our people, upon a mission of his own."

"Why did you not go with him, seeing that it was Belus who hired you
and not I?" I asked sharply.

"Perhaps because I was otherwise commanded, or because I thought I
might be of more service elsewhere," he replied, bowing his head.

I thought a moment, then I turned and spoke words that seemed to be
put into my mind.

"Obil," I said, "you know more than you pretend; you know that /I/ am
the husband of the lady Myra, not Belus, and all my case."

"Yes, Master, I know these things, for I have been told them under an
oath that may not be broken if I would avoid death in this world and
save my soul in any that is to come. We worship the same God and
therefore he who betrays his brother, betrays his God."

"Who told you?" I asked.

"Belus told me. In his youth he was my father's friend, therefore he
trusts me and hired me to go upon that journey which has not been
accomplished. Afterwards, knowing that he might be called away, he
told me all, bidding me to serve you and another to the death."

Now I bethought me that this Obil whom it pleased to play the part of
a servant, was more than he seemed and that doubtless he had his share
in the dark conspiracies of Belus, but of this matter I said nothing.

"Does the prophet know that you have my secret?" I asked.

"The prophet knows all, for God tells him."

I thought a while. For good or ill I was in this man's power no matter
what I did or left undone. He had learned my secret from Belus or
another, and if it pleased him, could betray me, or leave me
unbetrayed. My crime was that I had married Myra whom the mighty king
of Babylon desired, and for that, if I were caught, I must die; it
could not be added to by aught that I did, or lessened by aught that I
left undone. Therefore I would be bold.

"Can you help me, Obil?"

"How, Master."

"By causing it to come to the ears of a certain lady that a certain
man still waits in Babylon hoping for the best, and by bringing
tidings to me of her, under her own hand if may be, that I may know
that they are true."

"It is dangerous, Master, and yet I have friends in the palace, aye,
even among the eunuchs, and if you desire it I will try who am bidden
to serve you in all things. Yet blame me not if aught goes wrong."

"I shall not blame you," I answered, "and--oh! no longer can I endure
this silence. I must hear, I must learn, or I think that I shall die."

"I will do what I may," said Obil, and turned to go.

"Do so, Friend, and whether you succeed or fail, be sure that if ever
I come safe out of this accursed city I will make you rich. Meanwhile
take what gold you want. You know where it is."

"I thank you, Master, who desire to rest in some far land, at
Jerusalem if it may be, and whose substance has been stolen by
Babylonians because I am of a race they hate."

Then he went.



Four nights later Obil appeared as I finished my evening meal and
slipped a clay tablet into my hand. I glanced at it who could read the
Babylonian writing as well as I could the Egyptian or the Greek, and
saw at once that it was but an ancient table of accounts, sealed by
some priest, a note indeed of the delivery of a number of measures of
corn into the store-house of a certain temple.

"What jest is this?" I asked.

"Let the Master press the tablet between his finger and his thumb, and
he may learn," answered Obil in a dry voice.

I did so and it flew to pieces, being in truth but a hollow cylinder
of clay that had been broken and cunningly joined together with an
invisible cement. Within was a tightly rolled papyrus covered with
tiny writing in the Grecian character, at the sight of which my heart
stood still.

"There is your letter, Master," said Obil, "which I came by at great
risk, how is best left unsaid, and at the cost of all the gold you
gave me, aye, and more of my own."

"Recompense yourself with as much as you will, I will thank you later,
Friend," I answered hurriedly, who burned to study the letter.

He went and standing under the hanging lamp, I undid the roll. On it
were written these words:


 "O most Beloved,

 "The message has reached me, it matters not how, and I rejoice.
  Yea, I thank God, for thereby I learn that you are safe and well.
  Know, Beloved, that I feared, aye, and had it not been for my
  faith in God and my memory of a certain prophecy made by a true
  seer far away, I should have believed that you were dead.
  Immediately after that kiss in the archway, which in dreams still
  burns my lips, I thought that I saw you fall pierced by a sword.
  Now I know that it was another man and that the gloom, or the
  dazzle of the lightning deceived me. I was dragged away. I am a
  prisoner--you will know where--an appointed prey to a certain
  great one when he returns. For in an accursed hour--may it be
  blotted out of the Book of Time!--he looked upon me unveiled and
  found me to his fancy. Indeed it seems that although absent, he
  remembers me and rejoices that I am taken, as he planned that I
  should be. He has even written to me, vile things, to which his
  servants force me to listen, dragging away my hands when I would
  stop my ears. All his fair women whom I hate, praise my beauty.
  They scent me, they comb my hair with golden combs, they paint my
  eyes and lips, feeding me with sweetmeats, and if I struggle, they
  laugh, naming me a cat of Egypt and calling to the eunuchs to come
  to hold me while they appraise me inch by inch. All these and
  other things I suffer because I hope that God will be good to us
  and bring us together again, how I know not who am a bird in a
  golden cage. Learn this, my heart's desire, that the worst shall
  never fall upon me, for when all hope is gone I will die, as I
  have the means to do. Never shall that royal brute so much as
  defile me with his finger tip. I dare write no more, for I think
  that I am watched; here the very walls have eyes and ears. Beloved
  husband, I trust in God, do thou the same, for He is just. Aye,
  even if He does not help us here, yet I am persuaded that He is
  just and good, and in some other land far from Babylon and the
  cruel earth, He will unite us for ever. Yes, when Babylon is dust
  and quite forgotten, that lips to lips and heart to heart we shall
  look down upon the sands that shroud its palaces and the bones of
  its accursed kings."


Such was the letter that was unsigned. Indeed from the writing I
judged that for some reason or other it was never finished. Still it
was hers. This I knew from some of the Greek phrases more ancient and
purer than was the common use, of a style indeed that I, who was half
a Greek, myself had taught to Myra. Also those high thoughts and that
vision of peace beyond the earth and every joy for those who had
suffered on the earth, were all her own; indeed once when fears of the
future took her, she had spoken to me in like words.

Oh! the letter was Myra's. Her hand had pressed it, her breath had
breathed upon it, her eyes, perhaps, had wept upon it as certain marks
seemed to show, and therefore to me it was a thing more precious than
all the treasure of the world. And yet how dreadful was the tale it
told. Myra a prisoner; pampered, petted, fattened, scented, that she
might be made more acceptable to the jaded appetite of this filthy
king, this royal ravisher who preyed on women as a rat preys upon
cooped birds, seizing them, sucking their blood, casting them aside to
die, and rushing at another. My soul sickened at the thought, my blood
ran cold when I pictured her, my own, my peculiar treasure, my love
whom I had always loved from her childhood and yet for long had never
quite known that I loved in that full fashion, helpless in the hands
of this crowned brute.

What a fool and madman had I been! Why had I not married her when
first she came to womanhood? Then before ever these kings set their
leering eyes upon her beauty, she would have been the mother of
children and therefore one whom they did not desire. Then we should
have passed our lives together in peace. But I thought to give her
liberty, to let her choose some younger man, if so she willed, not
guessing that with body and with soul, from the hour that she knew I
was not her father, she had turned to me, and me alone. Therefore,
because of my mother's pride and common vanity, all these evils had
come upon us, and what was done could not be undone. Myra lay in her
gorgeous den, panting and beating its bars of gold whilst she waited
the coming of the wolf that would tear her for his pleasure, and I,
far away and powerless, could stretch out no hand to save her,
although her cry echoed in my ears.

She said that first she would die, and doubtless it was so, unless in
their cunning way they robbed her of the means of death. Well, if she
died, surely I should know it, surely her spirit would touch me in its
passing, so that I might make haste to follow. Yet, what an end! One
that was forbid also by the law which said that all torments must be
endured for the pleasure of the gods. Yet if need were it should be
faced.

I lifted the letter to my lips and kissed it; then I pressed it to my
heart and wept. Yes, I, a man of full age and a captain of men, wept
like a girl!

I felt a hand upon my shoulder and looked up. By me stood the prophet,
the holy one of the People of Judah.

"Why do you weep, Ramose?" he asked gently.

I told him all and even gave him the letter to read, though in truth
he scarcely looked at it but set it down as though already he knew
what was written there.

"You have done foolishly and for the second time, Ramose," he said,
"you who lack faith and patience. Have I not told you to wait and be
content? And now, who knows? It is not easy for women of the king's
household to send out letters unobserved, and if this one has been
seen, what then? Well, it is too late to question. Let the matter be.
Yet I pray you to promise me that you will send no more such messages
and seek no more letters from a certain lady who lies hid in yonder
palace."

"I ask pardon and I promise," I answered humbly. "Be not wrath with
me, O Prophet. I feared lest she were dead, as you see she feared that
I was dead, and the temptation was too great."

"Had she been dead, I should have told you, Ramose. Do you think that
for no purpose I desire to keep you here in Babylon where you go in
great peril day by day? If she were dead or lost to you beyond all
hope, long ago I should have sent you hence. For the last time I say--
be warned, and unless I bid you, do nothing in this matter save bide
here and wait."

Thus he spoke, more sternly than he had ever done to me, and, seeking
no answer, departed, leaving me afraid. What did he mean when he spoke
of my going in danger day by day? I thought that here in his house I
lay hid and safe from every peril, also that none knew that the
Egyptian, Ramose, was in Babylon, or even that a certain Ptahmes dwelt
on there. Yet if these things were not known, why did I go in danger?
I say that I grew afraid, not for myself who have never been a coward,
but for Myra. If evil overtook me, what would chance to Myra who then,
save for Belus if he still lived, would be alone in the world?

Oh! I was afraid of this prophet about whom there was something
unearthly, and even terrible. He seemed to walk the earth like a
spirit or a god, knowing all, perchance directing all, yet holding his
lips sealed and hiding his countenance. And he was wrath with me
because I did not trust to him more utterly, forgetting that it is
hard for men who are sinners to put all their faith and hopes in the
hands of saints and prophets, seeing that to their knowledge such
often deceive themselves and lead others to their ruin.

In what troubles was I snared and wrapped like a gnat in a spider's
web! When the royal Atyra was murdered because of me, I had sworn that
never again would I look in love on woman and holding down the flesh,
for many years I had kept that oath and been happy. Then Myra the
snow-maiden, of a sudden turned to flame and set me afire also, so
that we burned upon one pyre which was like to be such as the old
Greeks used to consume the dead. Well for me and well for her if we
had gone different ways and our lips had never met in love!

Nay, it was not so, for even if we died, separate or together, still
our lips had met, still that holy fire had been lit which must burn
eternally. Oh! better to suffer and to love, than to live out fat,
unanxious years in such peace as oxen know. For then what harvest can
the spirit hope to bear with it from the earth to sow again beyond the
earth?



                             CHAPTER XIX

                        THE LADY OF THE LITTER

The weary days went on. As I had promised, I attempted to send no more
messages, and indeed told Obil that I sought no further letters, for
these were too dangerous. This saying, I noted, seemed to please him,
who although he made no complaint and expressed no fear, to me now
always appeared to walk like one who is straining his ears to listen,
while continually he glances over his shoulder to see if he is
followed.

Had Obil some secret cause for dread, I wondered uneasily, and if so,
was I to blame? This doubt took a hold of me, so that more than once
almost I spoke to him on the matter, purposing to ask him whether he
would not do well to leave my service and hide himself. Yet in the end
I did not, who in the words of the Egyptian proverb, though it wiser
not to kick the sleeping jackal lest it should yap and call the lion.
Also I believed that the prophet would protect him.

At last came a day when Obil brought some news and it was dreadful.
Belshazzar the King had returned to Babylon that morning shortly after
dawn. Obil, who had gone early to the market to buy our food, saw him
come, driving furiously in a chariot and accompanied by other chariots
and horsemen who seemed weary as though they had galloped through the
livelong night. I asked him of this king and he answered that he
looked fierce yet frightened, like to one who had an evil spirit
sitting on his shoulder and calling disaster in his ear. His eye
flashed, his long hair flew out behind him, and when an old woman
carrying fish in a basket on her back, stumbled and fell, blocking the
narrow road, with a curse he bade the charioteer drive over her. This
was done, leaving her crushed and shrieking, with blood running from
her, a sight that angered the people, for they muttered and some shook
their fists after the king. Yet none of them dared to touch the woman
whom he had chosen to destroy and who lay there till she died.

"It seems that the people of Babylon do not love this king of theirs,"
I said.

"No, Master, they hate him, who is the most cruel of whom history
tells. Yet they fear him for he never forgets and his vengeance is
very terrible. While Nabonidus lived they could appeal to him
sometimes, but now that he is dead they can only appeal to their gods
who do not listen."

"What news of the Persian war?" I asked him.

"None that is certain; indeed few talk of it because it is forbidden,
but those who do shake their heads and mutter of defeat and captured
cities. They say, too, that Belshazzar has escaped from Zippar or some
other beleaguered place, and fled to Babylon because he believes it
impregnable and hopes to hold it until he can win succour from other
countries. It is even reported that an embassy has come from Egypt to
treat with him on this matter. For so hardly is he pressed that he has
offered to Pharaoh lordship over all the Syrian lands that Babylon
still holds, and a great sum in gold, if only he will send an army to
his succour."

Now when I heard this I marvelled. Only a little while ago Nabonidus
was quarrelling with Pharaoh over the matter of Myra, and that
Belshazzar should now be imploring help from him showed me that he
must indeed be pressed. Still I said no more, thinking to myself that
I would ask the prophet of the truth of this story. But when I
inquired whether he would be pleased to see me I received a message
which he had left for me, saying that he had gone to some hidden place
to pray and would not return till after sunset, or perhaps not until
the morrow.

So I sat alone in my chamber, consumed with such fears as may not be
written, for were not Myra and Belshazzar the king now beneath the
same roof? Aye, was she not as a bird in the very hand of the snarer.

Later in the day I sent again for Obil, thinking that I might gather
more tidings. But a servant called Nabel came in his stead, much
disturbed. He said that he and Obil had been walking in the street
when suddenly guards pounced on them, seized Obil and dragged him
away. Thereon he fled, fearing lest they should take him also, which
they made no attempt to do.

"Where then is Obil?" I asked.

"Where the lamb is after it wandered and met the eagle, Master,"
answered the man grimly, "for those guards bore the royal badge."

"The motherless lamb is good to the eagle, but what is Obil to a
certain bird that has a beak but no wings?" I asked.

"Doubtless food also, of one sort or another, or may be his entrails
will furnish auguries," he answered in a cold voice that frightened
me.

For now I was sure that Obil had been seized because he had to do with
a certain message and a certain letter, and could say who sent the
message and who received the letter. Still, all was well; Obil was an
upright man, like myself a worshipper of Jehovah who would break no
oaths.

Then I remembered that tyrants and kings have dreadful ways of
dragging out the truth from the most secret soul, and shivered.



Later in that terrible day, between two and three hours before sunset,
this same man Nabel entered the chamber where I sat brooding, bearing
a covered basket of woven rushes.

"What is this?" I asked.

"A love-gift, as I think, Master; at least the women of Babylon, when
they are smitten with desire for some man who has caught their eye,
are wont to send such baskets adorned like this with the rich colours
of love."

"Then it cannot be for me, upon whose countenance no lady has looked
for months," I answered smiling.

"Yet it is always well to learn what is hidden in any covered basket,"
said Nabel meaningly.

Thereon I undid the silken string and threw back the lid, revealing
ripe figs, each of them wrapped in a vine leaf.

"Take out the figs--but do not eat them," said Nabel and I did so,
lifting the purple fruit one by one and setting them on the table.

At length I came to a package wrapped in linen. I undid this package,
and behold! there appeared just such a clay cylinder as that which had
covered Myra's letter. I took it, I pressed, it fell to pieces, and
within was a little papyrus roll inscribed with tiny writing in the
Grecian character.

Eagerly I read. It ran thus:


 "Beloved,

 "I am in a sore straight, but I have found a certain road of escape
  for both of us; what it is I dare not write. There is a feast
  to-night in the great hall of the palace, which feast you must
  attend. Array yourself in a dress of honour and come hither guided
  by one whom I send who is a friend to me. I dare write no more,
  but all will be made clear at the time appointed. Oh! fail me not.
  If ever you would clasp me in your arms and look again upon a
  happy house, fail me not now. Cast aside all doubts and fear. Be
  bold and come, lest we be parted for ever. Choose then between joy
  and death. For learn, Beloved, that if you come not, this very day
  I must die to save myself from a more evil fate."


Twice I read this letter through from the first word to the last. Then
I laid it down and thought, as perhaps I had never done before.
Swiftly, fiercely I weighed and pondered all. Taking the first letter
from where it was hidden, I compared the two. The encasing tablets
were of the same sort, though the writing on them was different, for
this second tablet purported to deal with the sale of a field in the
reign of some earlier Babylonian king, reserving the trees in the
field to the seller and his heirs, as is often done in the East.
Moreover the broken fragments of the tablet had been joined together
with the same sort of invisible cement. The papyrus on which both
letters were written, also seemed to be the same, of an Egyptian make,
as I who had used so much of it, knew well, and scented with a like
scent; in the Greek character further I could find no difference
though the ink of the second letter varied a little in colour from the
first, being darker in hue.

Still, seeing that Grecian characters written by a good scribe are
hard to know apart, I could not be sure that this Greek was written by
Myra, though as in the case of the first letter, from its style I
believed it to be hers. Lastly in both letters the writer spoke of
ending her life rather than suffer shame, and in the second she called
our house at Memphis by its name, which surely no one else would know.
Oh! I could not doubt. Myra had penned this second letter as she had
penned the first.

Then why did I not prepare to do her bidding, putting aside all doubts
and fears, as she bade me? For one reason only--because of my promise
to the prophet. Yet what was that promise? That I should attempt no
more to send her messages and draw answers from her; one that I had
kept to the full. For the rest, he had only bidden me to bide here in
this house. But if he saw that letter, doubtless he would recall his
words. Alas! that I could not show it to him! Alas! that now when I
needed him so sorely, he was far away, where I knew not.

So it stood thus. On the one hand was Myra's letter which, if obeyed,
meant escape and joy, and if not obeyed, meant her death that must
soon be followed by my own. On the other, the bidding of the prophet
that I should not leave his house, because if I did so I might come
into peril. But could I hesitate for such a reason when Myra stood in
perils a hundred times as great? I could not; I would put on the robe
of honour that Nabonidus had given me to wear when I walked from my
apartments to the royal presence, and go. Yet how was I to go?

She spoke of one whom she sent to guide me, who was a friend to her.
Where then was this guide? I called the man Nabel who had brought me
the basket and inquired how it had come into his hands. He answered
that an old beggar-woman had given it to him as he stood in the street
outside the door, and that she was now crouched in the shadow of a
broken wall near by, as he thought asleep. I asked him if she had said
anything.

"Yes, Master," he replied. "She said that she was commanded to lead
the lord to whom the basket must be delivered, to where he would go
and that she would wait until he was ready, which he must be by
sunset."

I glanced at the sky and saw that there was yet an hour before the sun
vanished. This was well, for in an hour much might happen. The prophet
might return; the old woman might depart, in which case I could not
accompany her and the problem would solve itself. Meanwhile I would
make ready.

I washed myself, I trimmed my long hair and the square beard that I
now wore after the Babylonian fashion, wondering foolishly whether
Myra would prefer it thus or whether she would bid me shape it as of
old when at last we were far away and safe; wondering also with what
looks and words she would greet me, and many other such vain things as
come into the minds of lovers. Then I put on the robe of honour, a
rich garment embroidered with silver and having a deep collar that
could be turned up to hide the face; such a robe as the Babylonians
wore over their linen dress when they attended feasts, or at night
when they went where they did not wish to be known, for then they
raised this collar till almost it met the head-dress of folded silk.

By the time that all was done the sun's red rim made a path of fire
over the broad bosom of the Euphrates and I knew that very soon it
would be gone. I sent once more to learn if the prophet had returned,
but there was no sign of him. Then torn this way and that by hopes and
fears, I knelt down and prayed to God to guide me, as I knew the
prophet was wont to do. I was not warned against this enterprise by
sign or token or symbol, or by the stirring of my heart. Therefore I
felt encouraged in it, who did not understand that already the first
warning and the last had been given to me through the mouth of the
great prophet who, as always, spoke with the voice of God.

The sun having vanished I gathered up my courage and called to Nabel
who had brought the basket. In his charge I left the letter I had
received with a message to the prophet, should he return, saying that
I had obeyed what was written in the letter, having no choice for
otherwise I must have gone mad. He learned the message by heart and
said that it should be delivered with the writing, which I knew he
could not read who had no Greek.

Then Nabel led me out through the secret door by which first I had
entered this house, and along an old, broken wall of the building
which was here before it, to a niche in the wall where perhaps once
stood the statue of some king or god. In this niche wrapped in a
tattered garment, crouched an old woman who seemed to be asleep. If
so, she slumbered warily, for at the sound of our steps she scrambled
to her feet, hobbled forward and stared at me by such light as
remained.

"La!" she said, "so this is he to whom I bore the love-basket. A
likely man enough, though no youth. But there, when I was in my flower
and beautiful, always I turned to one of middle-age, perhaps because,
being no fool myself, I sought wisdom as well as kisses. Come on,
lover, and may the goddess of Love who, mind you, by whatever name
they call her, is the greatest in the whole world, be your friend
to-night."

Thus she babbled on, as I guessed to stop my mouth, so that I could
not question her, all the while leading me by quick turns from side
street to side street, till at length we reached a quiet, grass-grown
place surrounded by tall houses in whose windows no lamps burned,
either because it was too early for them to be lit, or because the
houses were deserted.

In this place as the faint light showed, for that night was one of
full moon, was a large litter resting on the ground and standing at
its poles twelve black men dressed in uniform who neither stirred nor
spoke; Ethiopian slaves they seemed to be. The old woman led me to the
litter, whispering,

"Enter, lover. Nay, stop not to fee me who am already well paid and
whose joy it is to bring together those who waste away apart. Enter
and when you are happy, remember me."

So through the curtains which she opened, I stumbled into that dark
litter, to find myself caught in a woman's arms and resting on a
woman's breast. I thought--who would not?--that it must be she I
sought, she of whom my heart was full, and no other. Therefore I threw
my answering arms about her and drawing her to me kissed her on eyes
and lips. Nor did she say me nay. At length she laughed a little and
the laugh seemed strange to me. Then she said in the Babylonian tongue
and in a voice that though pleasant, was stranger still,

"I have always heard, Friend, that you men of Egypt were warm-hearted
and forward to attack, but never till now did I understand how
faithful was the tale. Kiss on, Friend, if it pleases you, for kisses
are cheerful and they leave no scars."

Now I shrank back gasping and amazed, not far it is true, for the
litter would not allow of it, whereon my companion continued her
mockery.

"Are you tired of love-making," she answered, "and so soon? Or do you
fear that Ishtar has not blessed me? It is not so, I swear. Look now,
I will draw the curtain a little and you will see that I am well-
favoured enough to please most men, even if they be high-born
Egyptians."

Thereon she leant forward, pressing her face against my own, and did
so. At first I could see nothing both because I could scarcely move my
head, and secondly for the reason that the moonlight was cut off
either by a cloud or by some house. Presently, however, the litter
swung round a corner, for all this while we were being carried
forward, and for a few moments the light shone on her, showing that in
her fashion she was very fair, round-faced, red-lipped and with dark
alluring eyes. Also she was young and most shapely.

"So!" she said, letting the curtain fall again, "not so ill, am I, at
any rate in this gloom where one might well pass for another? You,
too, are better to look at than I thought, handsome indeed--
therefore----" and again she pressed herself against me.

"Lady," I murmured, "I may not. I go to meet one to whom I am sworn
and--I may not."

"Well, even so there is no reason to tremble like a leaf, or as though
you found yourself companioned by a snake. You would not greet the
lady by telling her how you came to her and with whom, would you? If
Ishtar keeps her eyes shut need you open hers? Moreover," she added
and now I caught a note of warning in her voice, "how do you know that
you will find that lady, who perhaps also travels in a litter with
another? Have you no proverb in Egypt, Friend, that says: 'Take what
the gods give while their hands are open, for none know what they will
withhold when they are shut.'"

"Oh! Lady, mock me not. I am in a sore strait."

She laughed a little, musically enough, and answered,

"So I can guess; indeed I am sure of it and therefore I forgive you,
which, being vain, I should not do if I thought that you shrank from
me because I was unpleasing to you. Poor man, be at peace! See, here
is a cushion, will you not use it to cover your face? The warmest
kisses cannot burn it through. Moreover it was you who began them, not
I. I did but take fire from your torch."

Then she leant back and continued laughing, and there was something
about her voice which told me that however bold she might be, she was
also kind-hearted.

We travelled on in silence for a while, then she said,

"I will tell you something lest you should misjudge me. You can guess
that I am girl whose eyes are not always fixed upon the ground, but I
am nothing worse. I was sent to bring you as one from whom a man would
not flee as he might do from another man. But by Marduk I do not know
why I am sent who earn my fee and ask no questions. Believe me,
Egyptian, I am not the bait upon any trap."

"Who sent you?" I asked.

"A eunuch as usual where such palace errands are concerned, and
therefore I smell a love affair."

"Is it so? I thought perhaps that it was a lady."

"Without doubt, for there is always a lady behind the eunuch," she
answered in the voice of one who wished to leave this matter
undiscussed.

Then I remembered the words of Myra's letter, that she was sending one
who was a friend of hers to lead me to her, and marvelled a little,
for this fair wanton seemed a strange friend for Myra to have chosen.
Only I remembered also that she was dwelling in a court and, it was
probable, could not choose her friends, but must take any that would
serve her turn, a dangerous one enough. Therefore I let that doubt
trouble my mind no more. Presently the litter halted for a moment and
a challenge was given which was answered by one of the bearers in
words that I could not catch. Thereon he who had challenged laughed
and we went forward again, from which I guessed that we had passed
some gate. The lady leant forward and whispered in a new voice,

"Friend, we have passed the outer wall of the palace and are about to
go down into--hell, for the palace of Belshazzar is hell indeed, as I
know who dwell there with others of my kind. You are bold who being
free, enter such a place where from hour to hour none knows what may
chance to him. But doubtless you have your reasons which it does not
become me to ask. Now I am going to make a request to you, to grant or
to refuse as you will. It is that you will kiss me once more, upon the
brow this time, not as a lover but as a brother might, and tell me
that you forgive me my mockeries. For I would fain be kissed once by
an honest man as I feel you to be."

Now I thought a moment. I did not wish to touch this woman again yet
some voice speaking in my heart urged me to do as she desired. So I
listened to that voice and kissed her, for which she thanked me very
humbly. As the end will show well was it for me that I did so, thereby
making her my friend.

Again we were challenged and this time the word of the bearers was not
accepted.

"Lean back," said my companion.

Then she opened the curtains a little and spoke between them, at the
same time thrusting out her hand on which there was some ring.

"Go on," cried a voice. "It is only Adna with one of her gallants, who
carries warrant on her finger to pass where she will with whom she
will on this night of festival when Ishtar reigns. Say, Adna, may I
not share that litter with you three nights hence when my leave
begins?"

"Aye," she answered mockingly, "if between now and then you will
change yourself from a vulgar fellow into a gentleman of breeding who
can tell the name of his grandfather, which is impossible," a bitter
saying that caused the officer's companions to laugh.

We went on again through sundry courts, as I gathered by the cutting
off of the moonlight, and at length halted in some silent place.

Adna, as I had now learned the woman with me was called, sprang from
the litter that had been set down upon the ground, and running up some
steps to a little door, tapped upon it three times, and after a pause
twice more quickly. The door opened and for a while she talked with
some one in a whisper, after which she returned to the litter and
said,

"My task is done. Yours, whatever it may be, begins. Descend."

Now some cold hand of fear seemed to grip my heart, some sense that
this place was unfriendly and dangerous to me, so that of all things
in the world that which I wished the least was to enter there. A sweat
burst out upon my brow; I became a coward eaten up of doubts.

"Can you not take me back by the road we came, Lady?" I asked.

"Nay," she answered. "You have entered by your own will and here you
must stay, as the fish-god said to the eel in the trap when it learned
that it was about to be skinned alive. Oh! why will men run so fast to
catch women who are not worth it after all? Good-bye and may all the
gods of all the lands befriend you, just for the sake of that one
honest kiss."

Then servants, four of them all armed, appeared and handed me from the
litter, bowing as though to a great lord. At the head of the steps I
glanced back and saw the light of the torch they bore, shining on the
beautiful face of the white-robed Adna as she stood by the litter
watching me depart. Moreover, unless some trick of the shadows
deceived me, I could have sworn that tears were running down that
face.

Why and for whom did Adna shed those tears? I wondered.



                              CHAPTER XX

                           THE END OF OBIL

The little door clanged to behind me and with a fluttering of my heart
I heard the bronze bolts rattle as they went home in their marble
sockets. Then I was led down narrow passages, many of them that turned
and forked and turned again till I lost all count of how they ran. At
length I reached cedar doors before which stood guards. The doors
opened and out came other servants who took me from those by whom I
had been brought thus far, and led me into a lofty room that was
separated from an inner chamber by broidered curtains.

Here I stood for a space while, passing between the curtains, one of
the servants made some report that seemed to cause a man within to
laugh loudly. Then he returned and I was led, or rather pushed through
the curtains, on the farther side of which I halted bewildered, being
dazzled by the multitude and brightness of the lights. A voice said in
my ear,

"Down! Be prostrate before the King of kings!" but still I stood
bewildered, seeing no king.

When presently my eyes grew accustomed to the blaze of light I
perceived that I was in a large chamber, cedar-roofed and adorned with
gold-worked hangings. At the end of this chamber, seated in a gilded
and jewelled chair, was a large, hook-nosed, bearded man with
unwinking eyes that reminded me of those of a vulture, whom I knew to
be Belshazzar the King.

He stared at me with those bold, fixed eyes, then said in a voice as
soft as though his throat had been soaked in oil,

"Let him alone. These barbarian foreign lords do not understand the
customs of our court. If he does not prostrate himself of his own
courtesy, I say--let him alone who may ere long learn to mend his
manners. Bring him here. I would speak with him."

So I was led forward and stood before the king.

"How are you named?" he asked, eyeing me up and down with his vulture
stare.

"I am called Ptahmes, O King," I answered who did not dare to give my
own name, and I noted that a scribe who stood by, wrote down the
words.

"Is it so? I think that I have heard otherwise. What are you doing in
Babylon and what are you?"

"I am a man of learning, O King, of whom the late king, your father,
was pleased to make a friend when we discussed the attributes of the
gods. He gave me this robe in which I stand."

"Did he? Then a fool made presents to a knave," he replied coarsely,
and the courtiers laughed. "Where are you living?" he went on.

"I am the guest of the prophet Belteshazzar, O King, he whom the late
king Nebuchadnezzar made governor of Babylon."

"Indeed. Then as I suspected, that old Hebrew dream-doctor keeps bad
company. By Marduk! he shall answer for it to me who do not fear his
spells as did Nebuchadnezzar the Madman. Are you also one of the men
of Judah?"

"I am a worshipper of the God of Judah, O King."

"And therefore an enemy of the gods of Babylon. Well, let the gods
fight their own battles. I mock them all who have served me ill of
late and chiefly this cheat of Judah, whose temple we have plundered
and whose golden vessels are my wash-pots. He has cursed me, so say
his priests, but as he has no statue to be defiled, I spit upon his
name and will show him that the King of Babylon is greater than the
Heavenly Cheat of Judah, as did the kings who went before me. What say
you, man?"

Now when I heard these blasphemies I shivered, nor, as I think, were
they pleasing to the ears of the courtiers, for I saw some of them
turn their heads and make the sign that Babylonians use to avert evil.

"Is it for me to reason with the King, or to revile Him Whom I
worship? As the King said, let the gods fight their own battles, which
doubtless they will do," I answered slowly.

"So in veiled words you threaten me with this god of yours, do you?
Yet I think that before long you will revile his name, and loudly, in
all our ears. How came you here and for what purpose, O Ptahmes?"

"A woman brought me, O King."

"Her name?"

"I am not sure of it, but one of the guards called her Adna."

All those present smiled and Belshazzar answered with a brutal laugh,

"Oh! Adna. We all know the beautiful Adna. Did you then propose to use
my palace as a house of ill fame?"

"Not so, O King. I was told that I was among those bidden to a feast
because the late king Nabonidus had favoured me."

"Were you? Then learn that I do not pick my feasters from among my
father's toadies tricked out in his old clothes," and he pointed to my
cloak which I now noticed was of a different make and stuff from those
worn by the officers around him.

I was silent, not knowing what to say. For a while he sat staring at
me, his face alive with hate as though I were his bitterest foe. Then
he spoke again, changing his soft voice, as he had the power to do,
for one like to the roar of a lion.

"Let us have done with all these lies," he said, "for I weary of the
play and time grows short. Captain, bring in the man Obil, that we may
refresh ourselves with a breath of truth."

Now the officer addressed hesitated, seeing which the king struck the
arm of the chair with his sceptre and shouted again,

"Do you not hear me? Bring in the spy Obil."

So sharply did he strike that the ivory sceptre snapped in two and the
golden head in which was set a great emerald, rolled along the floor
till it lay still between my feet. A gasp of fear at this most evil
omen rose from those who saw it, and even the king's wine-flushed face
paled for a moment. Recovering himself, he turned on them snarling and
asked,

"Are you afraid? Do you think that the cheat Jehovah answers me by a
sign worked upon this rod of power that all the gods of Babylon have
blessed? I tell you that with half a sceptre I will hunt him out of
heaven, yes, and shatter Cyrus, whom the men of Judah call his Sword.
Aye, I will thrust it down the Persian's throat and watch it choke
him."

"May the King live for ever!" said the courtiers bowing. "The King is
greater than all the conquered gods of all the peoples!"

I saw, I heard, and for the first time some comfort crept into my
scared soul as I set my foot upon that sceptre-head beneath the hem of
my robe where it lay hidden, and spurned it. For well I knew that this
beast king was but as dust before the breath of Jehovah the Holy One
of Judah. Then I stepped back and showed the great jewel flashing on
the ground like to a tiger's evil eye.

A door at the side of the chamber was opened and through it came four
bloodstained black men, naked save for loin cloths, who bore a
stretcher covered with a cloth.

"May it please the King, Obil is here as the King commanded," said the
captain.

At a sign from the king he threw back the cloth revealing a hideous
sight, from which even those cruel Babylonians shrank back. For there
lay Obil, mutilated, torn to pieces, scarred with fire and bathed in
blood. More I will not write; it is enough.

"Bid the dog speak, if he would not taste of a worse torment, and tell
me what he knows of this man who bribed him to corrupt my servants and
carry letters from a lady of my household," said Belshazzar.

"May it please the King," said the captain in a trembling voice, "Obil
cannot speak. He is dead!"

"Dead!" roared Belshazzar. "How comes it that he is dead when I
commanded that he should be kept alive?" and he glared at the black
slaves who shook in their terror.

"May it please the King," went on the captain, "the scribe here whose
office it is to be present at tormentings and take down the words
uttered by the victims--I mean by the wicked sentenced to punishment,
says that this obstinate man of Judah, Obil, snatched a heated knife
from the hand of one of the slaves and drove it into his own heart.
See, it stands there in his breast."

"And what said the fellow before he died?" asked Belshazzar of the
scribe, who answered,

"May it please the King, he said nothing save that he believed this
man here was an Egyptian of royal blood and that the King could never
harm him as he was protected by the spirit of Belteshazzar, the great
prophet of Judah. Naught else could be wrung from him by any torment
that is known. Indeed with his last words he denied all the little he
had uttered."

"Did he tell you naught of Belus or Azar, my enemy in whose pay he
was, and whither he has gone?"

"Naught, O King."

"Take that carrion away and let those clumsy slaves await my
punishment under guard, for I think that presently they shall taste of
their own medicine," said the king, glaring again at the black men.

So the body of the steadfast Obil was carried off and as it went I
prostrated my heart before him whom unwittingly I had brought to
death, and blessed his spirit, praying its pardon and that of God.
When it was gone and slaves had scattered perfume over the spot where
the tormentors and the litter had stood, the king spoke again, saying,

"We have learned little of this man from that dead Hebrew, save that
he is an Egyptian of royal blood, and even this he denied again before
his end. Nor is it of any use to ask the fellow himself, except under
torment, for doubtless he will lie as all Egyptians do. Yet if, as is
reported, he be really of the blood of Amasis we must go softly, for
at this moment Babylon does not wish to make a foe of Pharaoh. Now I
have heard rumours concerning the man and I would put them to the
proof, as happily I have the means to do. What say you, my
counsellors?"

"The King is wise. May the King live for ever!" answered these
reptiles, bowing like snakes before the rod of their charmer.

Then Belshazzar turned to a chamberlain who stood upon his right with
a wand in his hand, and said,

"Admit those ladies who await an audience of my Majesty, and be silent
everyone while I talk with them. Remember all, also you, Egyptian,
that whoever speaks before I open his mouth, dies," and without moving
his head he turned his flashing eyes towards the door through which
the torturers had departed with their horrible burden, then fixed them
threateningly upon me.

Presently the curtains that hung over another of the entrances to that
great chamber were drawn and from between them appeared two ladies
draped in long veils, of whom because of these veils little could be
seen, except that they were tall and walked gracefully. After them
came other women whom I took to be attendants because their heads were
bowed. Also I noted that the pair who came first seemed to be
strangers or enemies, for they exchanged no word and edged away from
each other. Having made their obeisance to the king, they were halted
by the chamberlain at a little distance from where I stood. Then they
looked at me and I perceived that both of them began to sway and
tremble like papyrus reeds beneath the weight of a breath of wind,
seeing which I grew suddenly afraid. Indeed from the moment that they
entered I had been afraid, because there was something which came from
them to me that stirred my spirit and awoke memories of I knew not
what.

"Be pleased, Ladies, as this is no public court, to put off ceremony
and to unveil yourselves," said Belshazzar in his softest voice.

Thereon the waiting women sprang forward and loosed the wrappings from
the heads of the two ladies whom I watched intently, wondering whether
I should know them.

The veils fell and were snatched away and next moment I too nearly
fell down. For before me stood Myra and my mother! Both of them were
wonderfully arrayed and, as a man sees in a dream, I noted that on my
mother's head was a royal ornament, at least from it, fashioned in
gems, rose something that resembled the uraeus snake of Egypt, that
only might be worn by kings, their spouses and their children of the
true blood.

Myra bent forward as though to speak but in a stern voice Belshazzar
bade her to be silent. Then addressing my mother, he said,

"Royal Lady, for so from our brother Pharaoh's letters I understand
you are, who for your own reasons have been pleased to favour me by
accompanying Egypt's embassy to Babylon, as, if you were so minded, I
prayed that you would do; tell me, I pray, whether you know this man
who stands before me, and if so, who and what he is."

These words the king spoke in his own language, but an interpreter who
must have been waiting there for the purpose, rendered them in Greek.

"Know him!" she answered with a cry, using that same tongue, for
indeed she had never learned any other very well. "Can a mother forget
the child she bore? Great King, he is my own and only son begotten by
the good god, Pharaoh Apries, when I was his wife. Yes, my son of the
royal blood, a Count of Egypt and a governor of Memphis, whom having
lost, by Pharaoh's leave I have travelled so far to seek, as you
invited me to do through your envoy, O King of kings. Amasis, the
present divine Pharaoh, sent him as an ambassador to Cyrus the
Persian, after which he vanished, O King; wherefore, hearing from your
envoy that he was rumoured to be still in Babylon hidden away, I came
to seek him and--am here."

"Is he named Ptahmes, Lady?"

"Nay, O King, his name is Ramose," she exclaimed astonished.

"I thank you, Lady, for this makes certain what we had heard
elsewhere, that Ptahmes is a false name under which it has pleased the
noble but modest Ramose to hide himself in Babylon. Now, royal Chloe,
as I believe that you are called, be pleased to tell me whether you
know the lady who stands near to you?"

"Yes, O King, though I have not seen her since she left Egypt to be
wed to the King Nabonidus, a marriage, I am told, that did not take
place because of some falsehood that was published concerning her,
although now she is to become your queen, O King, a glorious destiny
indeed. Yes, the wife of the greatest monarch in all the world!" and
she lifted her eyes as though in adoration of a god.

"You are right, Lady, and it is for this reason that we have
petitioned of you to honour us with your presence here in Babylon if
only for a while, that we may bestow upon you such gifts and titles as
become one who is said to be the grandmother of a lady whom its king
takes as wife. We beg you, therefore, to tell us here and now whether
this is so, as in his letters Amasis, the Pharaoh of Egypt declares,
because if I may say it, in your person you are still so young and
beautiful, that doubts have arisen as to this matter."

Now I fell into an agony, or rather into a deeper agony, who knew not
what words would come from the mouth of this foolish mother of mine in
the madness of her vanity. I who remembering Belshazzar's terrible
threat, dared not speak, fixed my eyes upon her face, as I saw Myra
did also, striving to send a message from my heart to hers, warning
her of my peril. But she took no heed. Indeed she only blushed and
bowed, then answered in a pleased voice,

"O King, my son Ramose was born when I was still very young, nor is he
himself so far advanced in years as might be thought from his face,
that has grown lined with study of deep things I do not understand."

Now Belshazzar leaned forward and said in a measured voice,

"Then this lady is the daughter of your son, Ramose?"

"So I believe, O King, although I never knew her mother, as I told
Pharaoh Amasis in the past. Years ago a queen named Atyra came from
Syria on an embassy to Apries my lord, a beautiful woman who, I heard,
fell in love with my son and--the King will spare me, for we in Egypt
are modest and it is not our custom to talk of such matters to men."

Now able to bear no more I was about to cry out that she lied, when a
eunuch who had drawn near to me, gripped my arm and handling his
dagger, whispered in my ear,

"Unless you seek instant death, be silent."

Then I refrained my lips, bethinking me that while I lived there was
still hope. In death there could be none.

"All of us understand, royal Chloe," said the king with a false smile;
"indeed I remember hearing of this Queen Atyra, a very fair woman who
went to stir up Egypt against us of Babylon and returned no more. So
enough of her. Now one more question, my royal guest, and I will cease
to trouble you. A man called Belus, an evil-doer who fled from Babylon
when I was young because of some crime he had committed, appeared here
not long ago and was pardoned through the foolishness of the late
king, my father, to whom he was a cousin. This man having been
reinstalled in his offices, for by trade he is a priest and a
necromancer, stated to the king in my presence that the lady Myra
yonder was not a princess of the royal blood of Egypt as Pharaoh
Amasis had declared, but the low-born wife of an Egyptian named
Ramose, a son of Pharaoh Apries and the lady Chloe, believing which,
my father publicly put away the lady Myra and from that day till his
death never looked upon her face again. Is this tale true or false,
royal Chloe?"

"How can it be other than false, O King?" cried my mother in a high
and rapid voice, "seeing that for years Myra dwelt with my son as his
acknowledged daughter, first in Cyprus and afterwards in Egypt, where
she herself often spoke to me of him as her father and where he
suffered suitors to ask her hand as that of his daughter? Moreover did
they not live in my house at Memphis as father and daughter? Lastly,
if this were not so, should I have told Pharaoh Amasis that she was my
son's daughter when he sought for a lady of the royal blood to be sent
as a wife to the King Nabonidus? Further, if they were wed, how comes
it that I, his mother, was never asked to be present when he took her
as his bride?"

Thus she spoke in a torrent of words until she ceased from want of
breath.

"It is enough," said Belshazzar, when the interpreter had rendered
them all. "I thank you who with the wind of truth have blown away
certain mists of falsehood which perplexed me, who purpose both for
reasons of policy and of love," here he devoured Myra with his fierce
and greedy eyes, "to repair the wrong done in error to your son's
daughter by my father Nabonidus, one ever easy to deceive, by taking
her to wife, thus wiping away that insult with the highest honour I
can bestow. Be pleased to withdraw, royal Chloe, till we meet again
presently at my feast when these nuptials will be declared. In your
chamber you will find certain gifts not unworthy of her from whom
sprang a queen of Babylon, with which I trust you will adorn your
beauty at the feast; also the decrees conferring upon you titles of
nobility which in Chaldea we think high."

When these words had been translated, Belshazzar rose and bowed to my
mother, and she--poor besotted creature, prostrated herself before him
as in her youth she was wont to do before Pharaoh whose woman she had
been. Then muttering thanks, she withdrew with her following,
forgetting in her joy and triumph even so much as to look at me, her
son, who, although she guessed it not, she had condemned to death.

When she was gone Belshazzar dismissed most of those who stood about
him, so that there remained only a scribe, a captain and four
soldiers, three eunuchs, big, fat fellows with villainous, wrinkled
countenances who, as I heard afterwards, were the chosen ministers of
his pleasures; and some veiled women attending upon Myra, who from the
way in which they moved, to me appeared to be jailers rather than
waiting-maids. They went and there followed a space of heavy silence
like to that which precedes the bursting of a tempest. All there felt,
I think, that something terrible was about to happen, for even the
soldiers and the hard-faced eunuchs looked moved and expectant.

Belshazzar descended from his high chair and stood in front of me,
glowering, his evil face full of hate and jealous rage.

"You have heard," he said in that horrible soft voice of his. "Now
what have you to say, half-bred dog of an Egyptian whose mother was a
Grecian strumpet, you who came to Babylon upon a vile errand? Before
you speak, learn that all this while you have been known and watched,
aye, even while I was absent. After you were taken spying for Cyrus
under a false name, the king my father protected you because you have
some smatterings of learning and flattered him. He died and you and
the traitor who is known as Belus, strove to escape with yonder lady
under an order that you had cheated from him. But my officers
outwitted you. The lady was taken in the gate, though owing to a storm
bred of the wizardry of Belus, you and he vanished, as I think after
killing my officer. Then you took shelter under the robe of the Hebrew
prophet who is called Belteshazzar, knowing that none dare touch you
there because of the superstitions of the Babylonians who believe that
his house is fenced by spirits from the underworld. There, perhaps,
you might have stayed safe enough, had it not pleased you to make use
of that poor wretch whose corpse you saw but now, as a go-between with
the lady Myra.

"In answer to your messages she wrote you a letter which was seized,
copied and then delivered by your tool, Obil. To-day, another letter
was forged and given to you to serve as bait to draw the jackal from
his hole. You came out of your lair and were met by a woman, because
to have sent soldiers to take you would have been dangerous in a city
that is full of treachery, thanks to your friend Belus and others,
though that woman, the wanton Adna, knew not why she was sent,
thinking only that she played a part in some love business from which
she would draw gold. So through your own blind folly at last you came
into my hands, where there is no prophet to protect you with the magic
of the devil that he worships."

He paused a while, glaring and gnashing his teeth. Then he went on,

"And now from the lips of that vain painted hag, your mother, lured
here for this purpose, we have learned the truth, or what will serve
as well, for who can doubt a mother's testimony concerning the son she
bore? The lady whom you pretend to be your wife, is certified by your
mother to be your own daughter and you are a wretch unfit to live, as
all here and in Egypt will acknowledge, yes, even Amasis himself.
Therefore I doom you to die, who on the head of your private crimes,
have piled that of making trouble between Babylon and Egypt at a time
when Babylon needs Egypt's help. Do you hear that you are condemned to
die?"

"I hear, O King, that like every man--even the King himself--I am
condemned to die," I answered slowly, for these words came to me. "Yet
before I die I would say to you what you know already, that all this
tale is false. Whatever my mother may have told you in her vanity and
delusion, yonder woman is not my daughter but my wife."

"Dog!" he answered, smiting me in the face, "will you also defile your
own mother? Well, soon we shall hear another story from you. Doubtless
you think to pass hence swiftly and without pain. It is not so. You
shall perish very slowly, as a monster who would take his own daughter
for a wife and who slanders his mother is doomed to do under our
ancient law. There is much that I would learn from you ere you yield
your breath, concerning the doings of your familiar Belus who is
reported to have gone hence to plot against me and Babylon with Cyrus
the accursed Persian. Soldiers, away with him to the torment!" and he
clapped his hands.

Then Myra who all this while had listened immovable, sprang forward
and threw herself into my arms.

"He is my husband, not my father. If he must die, let me die with
him," she cried.

"Drag her away," said the king, and they obeyed him.

Yet as she was torn from me, she thrust something into my hand which
swiftly I hid in my robe, guessing that it was poison.

"Farewell, beloved wife," I said. "Soon we shall meet before God's
judgment seat, we and this king."

As the soldiers haled me towards the curtains the captain who had
departed to give orders returned.

"O King," he said, "the King's command cannot be carried out on the
instant."

"Why not?" shouted Belshazzar.

"O King, the tormentors, fearing the just vengeance of the King that
he had promised to them because of the death of Obil, are themselves
all dead. Yes, there they lie dead, the four of them, having, as I
think, swallowed their own tongues after the Ethiopian fashion."

"Send for others instantly," said the king.

Then the private scribe prostrated himself, saying,

"O King, the business will be long, for such instructed, devilish folk
live by themselves at a distance and it is almost the hour of the
great feast. Shall we not behead this man at once and make an end?"

"Nay," Belshazzar answered, "for I would court this daughter of his to
the music of his groans. It will be sweet!"

He thought a while, then added,

"Bring him to the feast and guard him well, placing him under my own
eye that I may be sure of him, who perhaps is also a magician and can
vanish away like Belus. When the feast is over lead him here again
where I and my new-made wife will talk with him. Bid more tormentors
await us here with their instruments and see to it that they are the
masters of their filthy company. On your heads be it!"



                             CHAPTER XXI

                       THE WRITING ON THE WALL

It was the great feast of King Belshazzar, given to celebrate his
coming to the throne of Babylon, to attend which had been summoned all
the satraps, high officers and nobles throughout the empire. From east
and west and north and south, in obedience to the royal command, they
had gathered together in Babylon like vultures to the carcase, and
waited there until the king returned from war to hold this coronation
feast. The enormous central hall of the palace was filled with their
glittering multitude, seated at scores of tables all down its length
and even between the towering side columns that bore up the roof. In
the centre there were no columns because this roof did not stretch
from wall to wall and here the hall was open to the sky. Nor was one
needed at this season of the year when no rain fell.

The night was hot and the air so still that the thousands of lamps and
torches burned without a flicker; even the flame of the candles in the
golden candlesticks that had been taken from the sanctuary of the
House of God at Jerusalem, pointed straight to heaven like fingers of
fire.

The king's seat was at the high table, and behind him, at a distance,
was the white wall at the end of the great chamber. All down this
table on either side of the throne were placed his noblest lords, his
queens and his concubines, flashing in jewelled robes. Among these
women on one side sat Myra, tall, pale, beautiful, adorned as a bride;
and on the other side my mother Chloe, wearing the royal uraeus of
Egypt to which she had no right, and covered with gems, among them,
upon her heart, those that Belshazzar had promised to her as his royal
gift. Below this table stood another occupied by officers of the royal
household, and at this board I, Ramose, was given a place looking up
towards the king, so that I might be in the king's eye as he had
commanded. At my back stood armed guards, and on either side of me
were chief eunuchs of the household who wore daggers in their belts.

When the countless company was gathered, a trumpet blew, heralds cried
for silence, and the king entered. All rose from their seats and
prostrated themselves before his majesty, lying on the floor like to
dead men. He waved his sceptre, not that broken sceptre I had spurned,
but another which a eunuch told me had belonged to a dead king.
Thereon they stood up again and the feast began.

I watched it like one in a dream, touching nothing of that rich food
which to my sight was viler than carrion, although with cruel courtesy
the eunuchs pressed it on me, saying that as this would be my last
meal, it was wise that I should eat, drink and be merry. Then, after
their beastly fashion, the chief of them who had been present that
night at the audience given to my mother, described to me how horribly
I should be made to die; also what Myra must suffer if she turned from
the king, all too hideous to be written.

Much wine was drunk and soon it became evident to me, watching and
listening to what, as I believed, were the last voices I should hear
on earth, that there were two parties in that hall which hated each
other. For here and there quarrels flared up suddenly, even blows were
given, until the guards who were everywhere, put an end to them with
heavier blows.

At length the king rose and spoke, and I who sat not far from him,
could hear every word he said. He told of the war with the Persians,
boasting much and saying that Cyrus and his generals were already as
dead men, for though at first they had met with some small success,
their armies had now fallen into a trap and would beat vainly against
the mighty walls of Babylon, like little waves against a mountain
side. Some applauded these sayings, whereas others received them with
mutterings, especially those whose sons and brothers had fallen in the
battles or been taken prisoners and sold as slaves.

"I have good news for you, lords, rulers, captains and people of
Babylon," went on the king. "There has been trouble between us and
Egypt, brought about by spies, mischief-makers and liars"--here, as I
thought, he glared at me. "That trouble is at end. Pharaoh is our ally
again and will support us with his armies in our struggle against the
Persian dogs. To seal our pact this very night I take to wife a lady
of the royal blood of Egypt," and he pointed to Myra who sat still as
a woman carved in stone, whereon all who could hear him rose and
stared at her, appraising her beauty.

"Fear not," he went on, boasting madly, "I will lead Babylon to such
glory as she has never known; guided by our ancient gods, again I will
make of her the queen of the world. There are no gods like to the gods
of Babylon who have smitten those of all the peoples. Some talk of
Jehovah of the Hebrews. Where is this Jehovah? Behold! we have pulled
him down from heaven. Babylon has sacked his sanctuaries, slaughtered
his priests upon his altars of sacrifice, and taken his treasures as
spoil. Ho! bring in the vessels from his house, those glorious vessels
that were holy in the sight of this fallen cheat Jehovah."

Thereon men who were waiting bore in the golden vessels; the cups, the
ewers and the basins, the receptacles of sacrifice and the lavers that
had been sacked from the temple at Jerusalem. They bore them in with
ribald shouts and lo! in each of them decked with flowers, was set
some image of a god of the empire of Chaldea; gods of stone and ivory
and wood, grinning and triumphant idols. They set the vessels down on
the high-table while half-naked women jeered and mocked at them and
into one of the most splendid Belshazzar cast the dregs of his wine,
crying,

"Accept this drink-offering, O Jehovah, conquered demon of Judah!"

It was done and he fell back upon his throne panting and rolling his
fierce eyes, while he waited for the shouts of acclamation that were
to follow upon his vile words.

But no shouts came, at first I knew not why till it seemed to me,
while I wondered, as though some shadow was passing down the length of
that hall, yes, a winged shadow that could be felt rather than seen.
Then I understood. After the passing of the shadow followed a heavy
silence, for all were afraid. All knew that Death was of their
company.

The silence lasted while one might count a hundred. Then over against
me, at the far end of the hall, the shadow reappeared and thickened.
Yes, against the white wall that towered high at the back of the
king's seat, it began to take form and the form it took was that of a
great hand which held a pen of fire. Such at least was its fashion to
my eyes.

More--that hand began to write upon the lofty wall. Slowly it wrote
with the pen of fire, tracing strange characters that I could not
read, letters of flame which burned more brightly than iron at its
whitest heat and were, each of them, of the height of a tall man.

Those of the feasters who sat far off were the first to see this
dreadful writing, which the king and those about him saw not because
it was behind them. They stared astonished and terrified; in utter
silence they sat still and stared. Heavy was that unnatural stillness
and dreadful was the gloom which gathered over the lower part of the
chamber, as though some mighty shape floated there, cutting off the
light of the moon and stars. Yet the lamps shone on beneath and by
them could be seen the white, up-turned faces and the staring eyes of
all that multitude of watchers.

"What ails our guests?" asked Belshazzar, gazing at those white faces
and those terror-stricken eyes, and his voice sounded loud in the
quiet.

Now for the first time I noted that Myra had risen. Alone among the
women she had risen from her seat and stood with her back towards me
looking at the wall behind her. Yes, it was she who answered the king
which no other dared to do.

"Behold! O King," she cried and pointed to the wall.

He rose. He turned. He saw the huge black hand that held the pen of
fire and slowly, very slowly, drew letters of flame upon the whited
plaster of the wall, where they shone and sparkled like to the coals
of a furnace heated manifold. Then he sank down in a huddled heap upon
the edge of the table, crying such words as these:

"What witchcraft have we here? Come forward, appear, all ye my
soothsayers and magicians, and show me the interpretation of this
writing. To him who can read it I will give a great reward, aye, and
set him up as a ruler in Babylon."

Presently from this place and that among the seats allotted to their
Fellowships and Colleges and elsewhere, gathered the soothsayers, the
magicians and all who were reckoned the wisest among the Chaldeans in
the arts of divination. They advanced to the dais; they studied the
characters of flame which one by one continued to start forth upon the
plaster on the wall. But of them they could read nothing.

Appeared a lady who wore a crown upon her white hair. She came to the
king whose body shook and whose face was ashen with fear.

"O King my son, live for ever!" she cried. "Let Daniel, the prophet of
Judah, be summoned, he who among the Chaldeans is named Belteshazzar,
for in him is the spirit of the holy gods. He will interpret this
writing, as he interpreted many dark visions to Nebuchadnezzar the
king who went before thee."

So in his terror the king commanded that Daniel known as Belteshazzar,
should be brought before him. Tall, thin, solemn-faced, black-robed,
white-haired, he was led through the feasters to the dais. As he
passed the table where I sat, he turned and looked at me with his
quiet eyes as though in reproach and wonderment. Then he looked at the
eunuchs and armed guards around me; also at Myra in her bridal robes
upon the dais, and seemed to understand. He climbed the dais and stood
before the king, making no obeisance.

Belshazzar lifted his face from the cloth in which he had hidden it,
and spoke with Daniel in a low voice, as I think offering him gifts,
but what he said and what Daniel answered I could not hear. At length
the prophet stepped back to the end of the dais and gazed upward at
the letters which flamed upon the wall, for now the hand that wrote
them with a pen of fire was seen no more.

"This is the meaning of the writing, O thou King that mockest the Most
High God and defilest the vessels of His house," cried the prophet in
so loud a voice that all in the hall could here. "Numbered, numbered,
weighed and divided. Yea, thy days are numbered! Yea, thou art weighed
upon the balances! Yea, thy kingdom is brought to an end! The Medes
and the Persians take it!"

Now the king drew near to Daniel, imploring the prophet to take away
this curse, or offering him gifts, I know not which, for the groans of
fear that rose from all who heard, covered up his words. But the
prophet waved him back and turning, departed from that hall, looking
neither to right nor left.

In silence he went, in silence all watched him go; then, as though at
a word of command, suddenly there was tumult. A madness fell upon the
company and the rage of terror. Women screamed, men raved and shouted,
the king flung himself face downward on the table, rolling his head
from which the crown had fallen, from side to side; a fainting
concubine caught at a tall light and overset it, firing her robes, and
rushed shrieking to and fro. Here and there men drew swords from
beneath their cloaks and struck at the lamps, extinguishing them. As
though their use was ended and their message given, the fiery letters
upon the wall faded and vanished, so that at last the only light left
in the great place was that which came from the moon floating over
head. Then voices cried,

"Down with Belshazzar! Away with the tyrant! Kill the cruel dog who
tears us and brings maledictions upon us! Kill the blasphemer! Shut
the doors! Stab the guards!" and I understood that there was rebellion
here.

Those for the king and those against him began to fight and die.
Groans echoed everywhere. Belshazzar sprang up and accompanied by his
court lords and women, rushed towards the private entrance behind
them, seeking to escape, for they knew that the curse had fallen and
the hour of doom was near. Some of that glittering mob were overthrown
and trampled, among them my mother. I heard her scream my name; I saw
her fall and vanish beneath the stamping feet. Forgetting everything I
rose to rush to her aid, for was she not still my mother! None
hindered me, for hoping to save themselves, the eunuchs and the guards
had gone I know not where. I snatched up a jewelled sword that had
fallen from some prince's hand; I leapt on to the dais and ran to the
spot where I had last seen my mother.

There she lay, her fair face crushed, her splendid robes red with
blood. Already a thief had been at work upon her jewels, one of the
black slaves, for I caught sight of him slinking away with the
necklaces glittering in his hand. More, he had driven a knife into her
throat to still her struggles while he robbed her. She was dead. Yes,
poor, foolish woman, such was the end of her and all her vanities!

I bethought me of Myra and looked round. At that moment the moon that
had been half hidden by a cloud, shone out fully. Lo! there she sat in
her place at the high table whence she had never stirred, so still
that I thought she must be dead, so beautiful that I wondered for a
moment whether it were she herself or perhaps her spirit.

Leaping over the fallen who lay, some quiet, some yet struggling, I
hastened to her. She saw me and whispered,

"I awaited you. Let us away from this hell."

"Aye, but whither?" I asked. "The doors are closed."

She sprang from her chair, saying,

"Follow me!"

A man appeared; it was the captain of those eunuchs who had sat by me
at the feast and told me of the torments I must endure and of the
shame that would be worked on Myra. He tried to seize her, shouting,

"She is the king's!" for in his mad bewilderment the poor wretch could
only bethink him of his duty and that he must guard the royal women.

I ran him through with the sword. As he went down his long dark cloak
fell from him. I caught it up and threw it over Myra's gorgeous bridal
robe, drawing the hood over her head. Then heeding him no more, though
it would have been wiser to make sure that he was dead, we ran on,
following the wall. Myra came to a screen of cedar-wood behind which
serving-men were wont to pass bearing dishes, as she remembered who
knew the palace well. She peered down the little passage to learn
whether it were empty, and I glanced back at the hall. As Myra had
said, it was a hell in which everywhere men were murdering each other
and thieves plied their business fiercely, there being much to steal.
Many, however, were trying to escape, rushing madly from door to door
to find them barred in obedience to the command of the conspirators,
most of them doubtless in the pay of Cyrus the Persian, who had hoped
thus to catch and kill the king.

Yelling, they ran to and fro while their enemies, coming after, hacked
them down and, ere the breath had left them, thieves from among the
palace servants and even soldiers, who having no pay lived by what
they could seize, robbed them of their finery.

Such was the end, or at least the last I saw of Belshazzar's mighty
coronation feast, the greatest that ever had been held in Babylon;
yes, these terrors and towering above them, white in the moonlight,
the wall whereon but now God's finger had written His decree.



We crept down the passage and came to the court of the scullions, off
which opened the kitchens and the quarters of the cooks, a village in
themselves. We fled across that court and found another that Myra did
not know, for many a city was smaller than this palace. Here beneath
awnings and columned porticoes men and women were revelling on this
festal night, for as yet news of what had chanced in the great hall
did not appear to have reached them. From the look of these women and
all that passed around us, I guessed at once that this was the quarter
of the players and dancers, also of the courtesans who were making
merry with their gallants.

While we hesitated, hiding ourselves as best we could, the tidings
came, whence I could not see. The men thrust away their darlings and
sprang up, drawing their swords and gazing about them suspiciously.
Discovering us, after demanding their password which we could not
give, certain of them began to hunt us, shouting that we were spies
who must be killed. We slipped away from them and hid in the deep
shadows of a portico while they ran about like hounds that have lost
the scent.

A woman glided up to us and peered into my face.

"Ah! I thought it!" she said. "Now, Friend, if you would save yourself
and that beautiful companion of yours, follow me, for I tell you that
wolves are on your trail."

"Who are you?" I gasped doubtfully.

"How soon men forget the voices of those they thought fair enough to
hold close not a sunrise ago!" she said with a light laugh.

Then I knew that this was the lady of the litter, one whom I could
trust, and whispered to Myra that she must come. Our guide passed on
through many gloomy passages, and we followed, leaving the shouts
behind us.

"Who is this woman?" asked Myra suspiciously, "and whither does she
take us?"

"Her name is Adna," I answered, "one in whom I have faith. Oh! stay
not to question. She is our only hope."

"A poor one, I think," murmured Myra. Yet she obeyed me and was
silent.

At length we came to a little door which Adna opened with a key that
hung to her girdle.

"Hearken, Friend," she said. "This door has no good name, yet it may
serve your turn, for it leads from the palace wall to the street that
is called Great. Descend those steps, there are twelve of them, and
turn down the passage to the right where I think there is no guard,
and you will be in that street where no one will note you. Farewell,
Friend. Thus I pay you and someone else for a certain honest kiss.
Farewell, and may the gods who have forgotten me, always remember you,
as I shall."

Then the door shut behind us. We ran down the steps. We followed the
passage at the end of which, used as a shelter from sun and rain by
the sentry who watched this gate, was a niche in the wall that now was
empty, as Adna had said it would be, why I do not know. Watching our
moment, we slipped out into the street called Great where many people
were afoot, although the hour grew late. All of these were disturbed
as was shewn by their gestures and the way in which they chattered to
each other; doubtless some rumour of the terrible happenings in the
palace had reached them, or other news of which I knew nothing.
Therefore, as it chanced, we were little observed, for when its
inhabitants felt the cold shadow of the Arm of God stretched out over
Babylon, they took no heed of one whom they held to be some court
noble passing with a cloaked woman.

"Whither go we?" whispered Myra.

"Anywhere away from this accursed palace," I replied, as though at
hazard, but all the while I was wondering where we could shelter? In
one place only--the guest-house of Daniel--that was the answer. It was
fortunate indeed that during the weary months that I had lain hidden
in this house I had so often beguiled the time by studying the streets
of Babylon from its high roof, for now the knowledge I had gained came
to our aid. Following these as I saw them in my mind, I led Myra from
one to another until at length before us was the mount crowded with
dwellings, on the crest of which were the walls of the old temple that
hid the secret entrance to the prophet's guest-house. To encourage
Myra I pointed to them.

"Behold our refuge!" I whispered.

"Then may we gain it swiftly, for oh! Ramose, we are followed."

I glanced back; it was true! Two cloaked men were dogging us, spies I
supposed, or watchers sent out when Myra was missed. Perhaps that
captain of the eunuchs whom I had cut down gave the alarm before he
died.

"Now run your best," I said, and clinging to my arm she did so, though
all her finery and the heavy cloak weighed her down and cumbered her
feet.

We reached the walls and rushed into them by the little twisting path.
Now the men were not more than twenty paces from us and I must almost
carry Myra. Yet in that dim uncertain light, for the moon was sinking
low behind the city's great encircling wall, they lost sight of us,
turning to the right whereas we had turned to the left into the mouth
of the path. I stumbled on dragging Myra with me; we came to the
hidden door. Then with horror I remembered that it was locked and that
I had no key, also that at this hour of the night it would be hard to
rouse the servants who slept far away. Oh! surely we were lost, for if
we knocked or called, those men would hear us and return. I gazed at
Myra and I think that even through that gloom she must have seen the
agony on my face, for she panted,

"What now, Beloved?"

"Only this, Myra. If you still have that poison, make it ready, unless
you would be borne back to yonder palace--where Belshazzar waits."

"Never!" she exclaimed and began to search in her robes, while I did
likewise to find the bane which she had given me in the presence-
chamber, that I might use it now, should the sword fail me.

Then when all seemed lost the God we worshipped spoke a word in heaven
and saved us. Suddenly the door opened! We rushed through. It shut
again and the bolts went home.

"Be silent," whispered a voice out of the darkness, "be silent and
stir not," and I knew it for that of the man Nabel who on the
afternoon of this very day had brought me the basket of figs which hid
the forged letter.

We stood still as the dead and next moment heard footsteps outside the
door.

"Perhaps they went in here," said a voice.

"Not so," answered a second voice. "Surely I saw them run the other
way."

"Still ought we not to seek help and break down the door which we have
no tools to do?" said the first voice, "It seems strong and is
locked."

"Nay, let it be," came the reply, "for I have no mind to tramp back to
that palace where all is drunken riot and fighting, perhaps to get a
spear through the belly for my pains. Nay, I shall wait till dawn and
make report to the captain of the inner gate, according to the
established custom in the matter of palace fugitives. We have our
clue; it is enough. Come, brother, I know a tavern not half a mile
away where they don't quarrel with late comers and the mistress keeps
good wine. We will go sleep there."

"So be it, for we have done our best, but be careful of that trinket,"
said the first voice. Then the pair of them tramped off wearily.

Nabel led us down the passage to a little chamber at the foot of the
stairs, where a lamp burned, by the light of which he looked at us
curiously.

"How came you to be at that door, Friend?" I asked.

"My lord, the prophet returned here a little while ago, Master, and
bade me watch by it till daylight, and if I heard any without to open
at once, and should it be you and a lady, to admit you and close
swiftly. These things I did, and it seems at the right time, though
how he knew that you were coming he did not say."

I stared at him who also wondered how he knew that we were coming.
Then I asked,

"Where is the prophet? We would speak with him."

"You cannot, Master. He told me that he was leaving Babylon instantly
and would not return before to-morrow, if then; after which he
departed with some cloaked companions whom he met without. Will you
not ascend? Food and wine are set in the eating-chamber, as the
prophet commanded, and one waits you there. Oh! be not afraid. She is
a woman and harmless."

Taking the lamp we crept up the stairs, I going first with my sword
ready. On a couch in the eating-chamber sat a woman, moaning and
rocking herself to and fro. She looked up and we saw that it was
Metep!

"Oh! my fosterling," she cried in a thick voice, "my fosterling whom I
thought dead, and your husband, the lord Ramose also, who those
chamber-girls said had been taken to the torture-room. Alive--both of
you alive! Oh, that holy man must be a god."

"What holy man?" I asked.

"The prophet. I was at the back of the hall when the fighting began
and I fled screaming with other women--I know not where. Then suddenly
the prophet appeared among us. He took me by the hand, he led me away,
and I remember no more till I found myself in this place. Oh! without
doubt that prophet is a god!"



We drank wine; we ate food. Aye, we ate and drank with appetite for
never were meat and drink more needed. Then side by side we knelt
down, returning thanks to Him we worshipped Who so far had saved us
from such great perils. We rose and as we did so Myra, who had thrown
off the eunuch's cloak, looked down at her glittering bridal robe and
uttered a little cry of dismay.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Oh!" she answered, "my lily. I have lost my lily in the crystal
case."

"Let it go," I said smiling, "for you have found him who gave it to
you."

She looked at me and I looked at her, until the blood flowing to her
pale face stained it red as roses. Then forgetting all, yes, even the
dreadful end of my mother, I opened my arms.

Whispering, "Husband! Oh! my husband!" Myra sank into them.



It was morning. Metep called at our door awaking us from sleep.

"Arise," she cried. "Armed men are without. They break through the
walls!"

We rose and clothed ourselves as best we could. I looked from the
window-places. Soldiers were hacking at the door, four of them, while
behind, urging them on with many oaths, stood one wrapped in a dark
cloak whom from his shape and voice, I guessed to be the baulked
Belshazzar himself, come hither mad for vengeance on me and Myra.

"What shall we do, Husband?" asked Myra faintly, for she too had seen.

"Fly to the roof," I answered, "and take your poison with you, Wife,
to swallow if there be need. Or if it pleases you better, should the
worst happen, leap from the parapet to the ground, after which no king
will wish to look on you."

"And you, Husband?"

"I? I am a man who still have some strength and sword-skill, although
my last years have been peaceful, and while I may I will hold the
stair. Wait. Bid Metep call those two serving-men."

She obeyed and presently they came.

"Friends," I said, "this house, although it be the prophet's and holy,
is attacked by a lord from the palace who desires to steal away my
wife, the lady Myra, and with him are four soldiers, as you may see
for yourselves. Now choose. Will you help me to hold it, or will you
give yourselves up? Before you answer, learn what befell your
companion, Obil. He was caught by the servants of the king, and
yesterday I saw his body at the palace, torn to pieces by the
torturers. Such will be your fate also, if you fall living into the
hands of yonder men."

Now Nabel, he who had brought me the basket of figs and opened the
door to us, a sturdy fellow with a dogged face, said,

"I stand by you, I who was a soldier in my youth and would sooner die
fighting than on the rack. I go to find my shield and sword."

The other man, a tall, pale-eyed fellow whom I had never liked,
slipped away, nor do I know what became of him. I trust that he
escaped, though when the soldiers broke into the house I heard a cry
that he may have uttered.

Metep fled to the roof and Myra, before she followed, stayed to kiss
me, saying rapidly,

"Husband, now I am ready for aught. Fight your best without care for
me, for if it comes to it, I, who am all your own, shall go hence
happy, to await you elsewhere. Never will I fall living into the jaws
of yonder dog."

Then looking prouder, I think, than ever I had seen her, she turned to
climb the stair.

I too went to the foot of that stair where I found Nabel awaiting me,
a sword in his hand and a shield of bull's hide of an old fashion upon
his left arm.

"I thought that you had gone with the other," I said.

He laughed and answered,

"Not I! With this sword and shield my great-grandsire fought the
Chaldeans, and I too used them in my youth. Now I would pay back my
grandsire's death upon their accursed race. Better to die as a warrior
than as a dish-bearer."

"Good," I answered. "If we live, you will be glad of those words, and
at the worst they may prove no ill passport to peace. Now get you
behind me, and if I fall, fight on."

This he did though being brave, he would have stood in front, and we
waited, I winding the fine cloak that Nabonidus had given me round my
arm to serve as a shield, for I had none. Soon the soldiers broke in
the door and reaching the foot of the stair, rushed up at us boldly
for they were brave fellows also; moreover the king watched from
below. I drove my sword through the throat of the first, and he fell.
The second cut at me over his body. I warded the blow with the cloak,
but his sword shore through it and wounded me in the head, causing
blood to run into my eyes.

"Back!" cried Nabel, and I staggered past him up the stair to the
roof. Nabel fought with the third man and it seemed, slew him. Then he
joined me on the roof where Myra and Metep were wiping the blood from
my face with their garments.

The other two soldiers appeared. We sprang at them and that fight was
desperate, but God gave us strength and we slew them. Then, sorely
wounded both of us, we reeled back to the parapet and stood there in
front of the women. Belshazzar came and mocked at us, but attack he
dared not, being a coward in his heart; also we still had swords in
our hands and were upright on our feet though we could scarcely stir.
Nay, he stayed by the mouth of the stair, waiting for help or thinking
that we should bleed to death or faint.

"I have sent for more men," he cried, "and presently they will be here
to make an end of you, cursed Egyptian. You thought you had escaped me
and so you might have done, had not that strumpet of yours dropped her
trinket as she ran from the palace, telling my watchers which way she
went," and he drew from his robe the lily talisman set in its case of
crystal and waved it in front of us.

Now he seemed to go mad; indeed I think he was smitten with a sudden
madness like Nebuchadnezzar before him. He raved at us in vile words.
He cursed the God of Judah Who, he said, had sent a lying spirit to
write spells on his palace wall, and the prophet who had interpreted
those spells and changed the company at the feast into ravening
wolves. With a working face and rolling eyes he blasphemed, he
reviled, he uttered horrible threats against Myra, saying that he
would throw her to the soldiers while I died in torment before her
eyes. He defied Cyrus and the Persians, vowing that he would burn them
living, hundred by hundred he would burn them all; he beat the air,
gnashing his teeth, till at last, able to bear no more, I strove to
spring at him, but being wounded in the thigh as well as on the head,
could not, and fell down.

Belshazzar drew a knife, purposing to finish me, yet in the end dared
not because Nabel still stood over me, sword in hand, though he might
not move. So he began to mock again and talk of the manner in which we
should perish.

"Hark!" he said, "my servants come. I hear footsteps on the stair. Now
look your last upon the sun, accursed Egyptian!"

I too heard a footstep on the stair and whispered to Myra to be ready
to die in such fashion as she chose.

"I am ready, Husband," she answered in a steady voice.

At the mouth of the stair appeared a man. Lo! it was no soldier of the
king, but Belus carrying a sword. Yes, /Belus/, come from I knew not
whence, haggard and travel-stained, but with the fire of vengeance
burning in his eyes.

Belshazzar turned and saw him. His fat face paled, his cheeks fell in,
his whole frame seemed to shrink. He staggered back.

"Do you know me again, Belshazzar the King?" cried Belus. "Aye, you
know me well. I am he whose young daughter you wronged and murdered
long ago. I swore vengeance on you then and through the years far away
I have worked and woven, till now at last the destined hour is at
hand and you are in my net. Look yonder," and he pointed to a wide
street of the city beneath us. "What do you see? Soldiers marching, is
it not? Behold their banners. They are not yours, O King of Chaldea.
Nay, they are those of Cyrus. I, Belus, have corrupted your captains;
I have opened the gates of unconquered Babylon; you and your House are
fallen; God's curse is fulfilled and my vengeance is accomplished!"

Belshazzar looked. He saw, he began to whine for mercy. Then suddenly
he stabbed at Belus with the knife he held. But Belus was watching and
before it could fall he drove at him with his sword, piercing him
through and through.

Belus stooped; lifting the lily talisman that had fallen from
Belshazzar's hand, he gave it back to Myra. Yes, there, amongst the
dead, he gave it back to her without a word.



Thus died Belshazzar, King of the Chaldeans, Lord of the Empire of
Babylon, by the hand of one whom he had wronged, he to whom it was
appointed that he should be slain on the night of the writing on the
wall.



Here ends the history of Ramose the Egyptian, son of Apries, and of
Myra his wife, a daughter of the royal race of Judah, written at the
Happy House in Memphis, by this Ramose when he and his wife were old,
that their children's children might be instructed and pass on the
tale to those who come after them, of how God saved them out of the
hand of Belshazzar, King of Babylon.



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Belshazzar by H. Rider Haggard



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