right, and I do not even yet give up the hope of securing you to take a share in my vintage.”
“You are mistaken. My work is already done. The gods themselves have taken it in hand. Amasis has been severely enough punished for banishing me from country, friends and pupils into this unclean land.”
“You mean by his blindness perhaps?”
“Possibly.”
“Then you have not heard that Petammon, one of your colleagues, has succeeded in cutting the skin, which covered the pupil of the eye and so restoring Amasis’ sight?”
The Egyptian started and ground his teeth; recovered his presence of mind, however, in a moment, and answered: “Then the gods have punished the father through the children.”
“In what way? Psamtik suits his father’s present mood very well. It is true that Tachot is ill, but she prays and sacrifices with her father all the more for that; and as to Nitetis, you and I both know that her death will not touch him very closely.”
“I really do not understand you.”
“Of course not, so long as you fancy that I believe your beautiful patient to be Amasis’ daughter.”
The Egyptian started again, but Phanes went on without appearing to notice his emotion: “I know more than you suppose. Nitetis is the daughter of Hophra, Amasis’ dethroned predecessor. Amasis brought her up as his own child-first, in order to make the Egyptians believe that Hophra had died childless; secondly, in order to deprive her of her rights to the throne; for you know women are allowed to govern on the Nile.”
“These are mere suppositions.”
“For which, however, I can bring irrefragable proofs. Among the papers which your old servant Hib brought with him in a small box, there must be some letters from a certain Sonnophre, a celebrated accoucheur, your own father, which...”
[To judge from the pictures on the monuments and from the 1st Chap.
of Exodus, it would seem that in ancient, as in modern Egypt,
midwives were usually called in to assist at the birth of children;
but it is also certain, that in difficult cases physicians were
employed also. In the hieratic medical papyrus in Berlin, women are
often spoken of as assisting at such times. In the medical Papyrus
Ebers certain portions are devoted to diseases peculiar to women.
“There were special rooms set aside in private houses for the birth
of children, as symbolical ones were reserved in the temples. These
chambers were called meschen, and from them was derived the name
given to midwives, to meschennu.]
“If that be the case, those letters are my property, and I have not the slightest intention of giving them up; besides which you might search Persia from one end to the other without finding any one who could decipher my father’s writing.”
“Pardon me, if I point out one or two errors into which you have fallen. First, this box is at present in my hands, and though I am generally accustomed to respect the rights of property, I must assure you that, in the present instance, I shall not return the box until its contents have served my purpose. Secondly, the gods have so ordained, that just at this moment there is a man in Babylon who can read every kind of writing known to the Egyptian priests. Do you perhaps happen to know the name of Onuphis?”
For the third time the Egyptian turned pale. “Are you certain,” he said, “that this man is still among the living?”
“I spoke to him myself yesterday. He was formerly, you know, high-priest at Heliopolis, and was initiated into all your mysteries there. My wise countryman, Pythagoras of Samos, came to Egypt, and after submitting to some of your ceremonies, was allowed to attend the lessons given in the schools for priests. His remarkable talents won the love of the great Onuphis and he taught him all the Egyptian mysteries, which Pythagoras afterwards turned to account for the benefit of mankind. My delightful friend Rhodopis and I are proud of having been his pupils. When the rest of your caste heard that Onuphis had betrayed the sacred mysteries, the ecclesiastical judges determined on his death. This was to be caused by a poison extracted from peach-kernels. The condemned man, however, heard of their machinations, and fled to Naukratis, where he found a safe asylum in the house of Rhodopis, whom he had heard highly praised by Pythagoras, and whose dwelling was rendered inviolable by the king’s letter. Here he met Antimenidas the brother of the poet Alcarus of Lesbos, who, having been banished by Pittakus, the wise ruler of Mitylene, had gone to Babylon, and there taken service in the army of Nebuchadnezzar, the King of Assyria. Antimenidas gave him letters to the Chaldians. Onuphis travelled to the Euphrates, settled there, and was obliged to seek for some means of earning his daily bread, as he had left Egypt a poor man. He is now supporting himself in his old age, by the assistance which his superior knowledge enables him to render the Chaldoeans in their astronomical observations from the tower of Bel. Onuphis is nearly eighty, but his mind is as clear as ever, and when I saw him yesterday and asked him to help me, his eyes brightened as he promised to do so. Your father was one of his judges, but he bears you no malice and sends you a greeting.”
Nebenchari’s eyes were fixed thoughtfully on the ground during this tale. When Phanes had finished, he gave him a penetrating look and said: “Where are my papers?”
“They are in Onuphis’ hands. He is looking among them for the document I want.”
“I expected to hear that. Be so good as to tell me what the box is like, which Hib thought proper to bring over to Persia?”
“It is a small ebony trunk, with an exquisitely-carved lid. In the centre is a winged beetle, and on the four corners...”
“That contains nothing but a few of my father’s notices and memorandums,” said Nebenchari, drawing a deep breath of relief.
“They will very likely be sufficient for my purpose. I do not know whether you have heard, that I stand as high as possible in Cambyses’ favor.”
“So much the better for you. I can assure you, however, that the paper. which would have been most useful to you have all been left behind in Egypt.”
“They were in a large chest made of sycamore-wood and painted in colors.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because—now listen well to what I am going to say, Nebenchari—because I can tell you (I do not swear, for our great master Pythagoras forbade oaths), that this very chest, with all it contained, was burnt in the grove of the temple of Neith, in Sais, by order of the king.”
Phanes spoke slowly, emphasizing every syllable, and the words seemed to strike the Egyptian like so many flashes of lightning. His quiet coolness and deliberation gave way to violent emotion; his cheeks glowed and his eyes flashed. But only for one single minute; then the strong emotion seemed to freeze, his burning cheeks grew pale. “You are trying to make me hate my friends, in order to gain me as your ally,” he said, coldly and calmly. “I know you Greeks very well. You are so intriguing and artful, that there is no lie, no fraud, too base, if it will only help to gain your purpose.”
