he laughed. "Is there one in Egypt who remembers oaths to his own loss? I thank you, Ana," and taking my hand he pressed it.
At that moment the door opened, and old Pambasa entered, saying:
"The Hebrew woman, Merapi, would see you; also two Hebrew men."
"Admit them," said Seti. "Note, Ana, how yonder old time-server turns his face from the setting sun. This morning even it would have been 'to see your Highness,' uttered with bows so low that his beard swept the floor. Now it is 'to see you' and not so much as an inclination of the head in common courtesy. This, moreover, from one who has robbed me year by year and grown fat on bribes. It is the first of many bitter lessons, or rather the second—that of her Highness was the first; I pray that I may learn them with humility."
While he mused thus and, having no comfort to offer, I listened sad at heart, Merapi entered, and a moment after her the wide-eyed messenger whom we had seen in Pharaoh's Court, and her uncle Jabez the cunning merchant. She bowed low to Seti, and smiled at me. Then the other two appeared, and with small salutation the messenger began to speak.
"You know my demand, Prince," he said. "It is that this woman should be returned to her people. Jabez, her uncle, will lead her away."
"And you know my answer, Israelite," answered Seti. "It is that I have no power over the coming or the going of the lady Merapi, or at least wish to claim none. Address yourself to her."
"What is it you wish with me, Priest?" asked Merapi quickly.
"That you should return to the town of Goshen, daughter of Nathan. Have you no ears to hear?"
"I hear, but if I return, what will you of me?"
"That you who have proved yourself a prophetess by your deeds in yonder temple should dedicate your powers to the service of your people, receiving in return full forgiveness for the evils you have wrought against them, which we swear to you in the name of God."
"I am no prophetess, and I have wrought no evils against my people, Priest. I have only saved them from the evil of murdering one who has shown himself their friend, even as I hear to the laying down of his crown for their sake."
"That is for the Fathers of Israel and not for you to judge, woman. Your answer?"
"It is neither for them nor for me, but for God only." She paused, then added, "Is this all you ask of me?"
"It is all the Fathers ask, but Laban asks his affianced wife."
"And am I to be given in marriage to—this assassin?"
"Without doubt you are to be given to this brave soldier, being already his."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then, Daughter of Nathan, it is my part to curse you in the name of God, and to declare you cut off and outcast from the people of God. It is my part to announce to you further that your life is forfeit, and that any Hebrew may kill you when and how he can, and take no blame."
Merapi paled a little, then turning to Jabez, asked:
"You have heard, my uncle. What say you?"
Jabez looked round shiftily, and said in his unctuous voice:
"My niece, surely you must obey the commands of the Elders of Israel who speak the will of Heaven, as you obeyed them when you matched yourself against the might of Amon."
"You gave me a different counsel yesterday, my uncle. Then you said I had better bide where I was."
The messenger turned and glared at him.
"There is a great difference between yesterday and to-day," went on Jabez hurriedly. "Yesterday you were protected by one who would soon be Pharaoh, and might have been able to move his mind in favour of your folk. To-day his greatness is stripped from him, and his will has no more weight in Egypt. A dead lion is not to be feared, my niece."
Seti smiled at this insult, but Merapi's face, like my own, grew red, as though with anger.
"Sleeping lions have been taken for dead ere now, my uncle, as those who would spurn them have discovered to their cost. Prince Seti, have you no word to help me in this strait?"
"What is the strait, Lady? If you wish to go to your people and—to Laban, who, I understand, is recovered from his hurts, there is naught between you and me save my gratitude to you which gives me the right to say you shall not go. If, however, you wish to stay, then perhaps I am still not so powerless to shield or smite as this worthy Jabez thinks, who still remain the greatest lord in Egypt and one with those that love him. Therefore should you desire to remain, I think that you may do so unmolested of any, and least of all by that friend in whose shadow it pleases you to sojourn."
"Those are very gentle words," murmured Merapi, "words that few would speak to a maid from whom naught is asked and who has naught to give."
"A truce to this talk," snarled the messenger. "Do you obey or do you rebel? Your answer."
She turned and looked him full in the face, saying:
"I do not return to Goshen and to Laban, of whose sword I have seen enough."
"Mayhap you will see more of it before all is done. For the last time, think ere the curse of your God and your people falls upon you, and after it, death. For fall I say it shall, I, who, as Pharaoh knows to-day, am no false prophet, and as that Prince knows also."
"I do not think that my God, who sees the hearts of those that he has made, will avenge himself upon a woman because she refuses to be wedded to a murderer whom of her own will she never chose, which, Priest, is the fate you offer me. Therefore I am content to leave judgment in the hands of the great Judge of all. For the rest I defy you and your commands. If I must be slaughtered, let me die, but at least let me die mistress of myself and free, who am no man's love, or wife, or slave."
"Well spoken!" whispered Seti to me.
Then this priest became terrible. Waving his arms and rolling his wild eyes, he poured out some hideous curse upon the head of this poor maid, much of which, as it was spoken rapidly in an ancient form of Hebrew, we did not understand. He cursed her living, dying, and after death. He cursed her in her love and hate, wedded or alone. He cursed her in child-bearing or in barrenness, and he cursed her children after her to all generations. Lastly, he declared her cut off from and rejected by the god she worshipped, and sentenced her to death at the hands of any who could slay her. So horrible was that curse that she shrank away from him, while Jabez crouched about the ground hiding his eyes with his hands, and even I felt my blood turn cold.
At length he paused, foaming at the lips. Then, suddenly, shouting, "After judgment, doom!" he drew a knife from his robe and sprang at her.
She fled behind us. He followed, but Seti, crying, "Ah, I thought it," leapt between them, as he did so drawing the iron sword which he wore with his ceremonial dress. At him he sprang and the next thing I saw was the red point of the sword standing out beyond the priest's shoulders.
Down he fell, babbling:
"Is this how you show your love for Israel, Prince?"
"It is how I show my hate of murderers," answered Seti.
Then the man
