“Seest thou, O my King, the sorrow of thy people?  Behold thy young son and pity him.  Look upon thy queen and comfort her.  If thou, their staff, art broken, who shall bear them up in their sorrow?  Break not.  Be thou as the strong father of thy great son, so that from the bosom of Osiris he may look upon Egypt and sleep well, seeing that in his loss his kingdom lost not her prop and stay, her king, also.”

The scanty manhood of the monarch, thus ably invoked, responded somewhat.  He raised himself and permitted Hotep to conduct him to the side of the boy prince.  Seti fell down at his father’s feet, and Hotep took Meneptah’s hand and laid it on the bowed head.

“Thou dost pardon him, O Son of Ptah,” the scribe said in the same quiet voice.  The king nodded weakly and wept afresh.  After the prince had clasped his father’s knees and covered the hand with kisses, he obeyed the scribe’s sign and went away to his mother’s side.  Again Hotep, compelling by his low voice, spoke to the king and the assembly listened.

“The gods have not limited the darts of affliction to thee, O Son of Ptah.  Rameses journeyed not alone into Amenti.  He took a kingdom with him.  Behold, the Hebrew hath loosed his direst plague upon Egypt, and by the lips of an Israelite, in the streets, every first-born in thy realm perished in the home of his father this night!”

The entire assembly cried out, and most of them ran sobbing and praying from the chamber.  Instantly the outcry and clamor in the palace broke forth again, for the inhabitants knew that the blow which had smitten Rameses had fallen on one of their own.

Meneptah staggered away from Hotep, his frenzy upon him again.

“Send them hither,” he cried hoarsely, waving his arms toward a white-faced courtier that had stood his ground.  “Send them hither—­the Hebrews, Mesu and Aaron!  Israel shall depart, before they make me sink the world!  For they have sent madness upon me!  I condemned my gentle son, I punished those who gave me wise counsel, I have ruined Egypt, I have slain mine heir, and now the blood of the first-born of all my kingdom is upon my head!” His voice rose to a shriek, and Hotep, putting an arm about him, hushed him with gentle authority and signed the courtier to obey.

The physicians lifted the queen and bore her away.  Seti stopped at Masanath’s side and looked at her with compassion in his eyes.  Har-hat came to him.

“Seeing that thou hast won the pardon of thy father, am I not also included in the restoration of good feeling?  Have I won thine enmity, my Prince?”

“I hold naught against thee, O Har-hat, but thou hast not been a profitable counselor to my father in these days of his great need.”  The young prince spoke frankly and returned the comprehending gaze of the fan-bearer.  Har-hat’s eyes fell on his daughter, and again on the prince.  Slow discomfiture overspread his features.  Rameses was dead and with him died the fan-bearer’s hold upon his position.  Seti was arisen in the heir’s place, with all the heir’s enmity to him.  But from Seti he could not purchase security with Masanath.