of the earth, has set up a wall for the waters, and this wall, which we cannot see, is fifteen yards high. For during the great flood in the land of our fathers, Ur of the Chaldees, the water rose fifteen yards—no more, no less. Yes, Nepht, I say ‘we,’ for you are of our people, though you speak another tongue, and honour strange gods. I wish you a good morning, Nepht, a very good morning.”
He left the abashed fisherman, went on, and entered the outskirts of the city, where began the rows of citizens’ houses built of Nile-bricks and wood. He saw the merchant and money-changer Eleazar taking down his window-shutters while his assistant sprinkled water on the ground before the shop. Amram greeted him, “A fine morning, cousin Eleazar.”
“I cannot say,” answered the tradesman sulkily. “The Nile has remained stationary, and begins to sink. The times are bad.”
“Bad times are followed by good times, as our father Abraham knew; and when Joseph, Jacob’s son, foresaw the seven lean years he counselled Pharaoh to store up corn in the granaries. …”
“May be, but that is a forgotten tale now.”
“Yes, and have you also forgotten the promise which the Lord gave to his friend Abraham?”
“That about the land of Canaan? We have waited four hundred years for its fulfilment, and now, instead of receiving it, Abraham’s children have become bond-servants.”
“Abraham believed through good and through evil days, through joy and through sorrow, and that was counted to him for righteousness.”
“I don’t believe at all,” Eleazar broke in, “or rather, I believe that things go backwards, and that I will have to put up my shutters, if there is a failure in the crops.”
Amram went on with a sad face, and came to the market, where he bought a millet loaf, a piece of an eel, and some onions.
When the market-woman took the piece of money, she spat on it, and when Amram received his change, he did the same.
“Do you spit on the money, Hebrew?” she hissed.
“One adopts the customs of the country,” answered Amram.
“Do you answer, unclean dog?”
“I answer speech, but not abuse.”
The Hebrew went on, for a crowd began to gather. He met the barber, Enoch, and they greeted each other with a sign which the Hebrews had devised, and which signified, “We believe in the promise to Abraham, and wait, patient in hope.”
Amram reached at last the temple square, passed through the avenue of Sphinxes, and stood before a little door in the left pylon. He knocked seven times with his hand; a servant appeared, took Amram by the arm and led him in. A young priest tied a bandage round his eyes, and, after they had searched his bag, they took the cabinet-maker by the hand, and led him into the temple. Sometimes they went up steps, sometimes down them, sometimes straight-forward. Now and then they avoided pillars, and the murmur of water was heard; at one time there was a smell of dampness, at another of incense.
At last they halted, and the bandage was taken off Amram’s eyes. He found himself in a small room with painted walls, some seats, and a cupboard. A richly-carved ebony door divided this room from a larger one which on one side opened on to a broad staircase leading down to a terrace facing eastward.
The priest left Amram alone after he had shown him that the door required repair, and had, with an unmistakable gesture, enjoined on him silence and secrecy.
When Amram was left alone, and found himself for the first time within the sacred walls which could not overawe a Hebrew’s mind, he yet felt a certain alarm at all the mysteriousness, of which he had heard since his youth. In order to shake off his fear of the unknown, he resolved to satisfy his curiosity, though at the risk of being turned out, if he met anyone. As a pretext he took a fine plane in his hand, and entered the great hall.
It was very spacious. In the midst was a fountain of red granite, with an obelisk set upright in the basin. The walls were adorned with figures painted in simple colours, most of them in red ochre, but also in yellow and black. He drew off his sandals, and went on into a gallery where stood mummy-coffins leaning against the wall.
Then he entered a domed room, on the vault of which were painted the great constellations of the northern hemisphere. In the middle of the room stood a table, on which lay a half-globe covered with designs resembling the outlines of a map. By the window stood another table, with a model of the largest pyramid set upon a land-surveyor’s board, with a scale of measurements. Close by stood an alidade, an instrument for measuring angles.
There was no visible outlet to this room, but after some search the uninitiated Hebrew found some stairs of acacia-wood leading up through a wooden tower. He climbed and climbed, but when he looked through the loopholes, he found himself always on a level with the roof of the domed room. But he continued to ascend, and after he had again counted a hundred steps and, looked through a loop hole, he found himself on a level with the floor of the domed room. Then a wooden door opened, and an elderly man in half-priestly garb received him with a greeting as though he were a well-known and expected superior. But when he saw a stranger, he started, and the two men gazed at each other long, before they could speak. Amram, who felt unpleasantly surprised, began the verbal encounter: “Reuben? Don’t you know me, the friend of your youth, and your kinsman in the Promise?”
“Amram, the husband of Jochebed, the son of Kohath! Yes, I know you!”
“And you here! After you have vanished from my sight for thirty years!”
“And you?”
“I was sent for to repair a door; that is all; and when I was left alone, I wanted to look round.
“I am a scribe in the chief school. …”
“And sacrificest to strange gods. …”
“No, I do not sacrifice, and I have kept my faith in the promise, Amram. I have entered this temple in order to learn the secrets of the wise, and to open from within the fortress which holds Israel captive.”
“Secrets? Why should the Highest be secret?”
“Because the common people only understand what is low.”
“You do not yourself believe in these animals which you call sacred?”
“No, they are only symbols—visible signs to body forth the invisible. We priests and scribes revere the Only One, the Hidden, under His visible shape, the Sun, giver and sustainer of life. You remember, when we were young, how Pharaoh Amenophis the Fourth forcibly did away with the ancient gods and the worship of the sacred animals. He passed down the river from Thebes proclaiming the doctrine of the Unity of God. Do you know whence he derived that doctrine? From the Israelites, who, after Joseph’s marriage to Asenath, daughter of the High Priest of On, increased in numbers, and even married daughters of the house of Pharaoh. But after the death of Amenophis the old order was restored, the King again resided at Thebes, and the ancient gods were brought out again, all to please the people.”
“And you continue to honour the Only One, the Hidden, the Eternal.
“Yes, we do.”
“Is, then, your God not the same as
