When the crowd heard Pharaoh speak to these poor people with such unwonted kindness, the like of which they had never heard before, they uttered mad shouts of joy.  As the king proceeded on his way in his two-wheeled golden chariot, a long array of soldiers, cymbal players, and dancing girls following behind, the palm-groves resounded with the cries of the people.  Joseph fled with the boy down narrow streets so as to avoid the crowd that wanted to press round him and look at and pet Pharaoh’s little favourite.

The same evening an anxious council was held in the little hut.  The boy, Jesus, was drawn to Pharaoh without saying why.  They were terrified about it.  The two working people had no idea that their life was becoming too narrow for his young soul, that he wanted to fortify himself with the knowledge to be obtained from the papyrus rolls of the ancient men of wisdom, with the intellectual products of the land of the Pharaohs.  And still less did they imagine that a deeper reason led their boy to desire to learn something of life in the world.

Joseph admitted that the manuscripts in the royal collection counted for something.  But Mary put little trust in the writings, and still less in Pharaoh.

“We’ve had,” she said, “a painful experience of the good intentions of kings.  Having escaped the violence of Herod with difficulty, are we to submit to that of Pharaoh?  They all play the same game, only in a different way.  What Jerusalem could not accomplish by force, Memphis will accomplish by cunning.”

Joseph said:  “My dear wife, you are not naturally so mistrustful.  Yet after what we have gone through it is no wonder.  This legend of a young King of the Jews has been a real fatality to us.  Whoever started it can never answer for all the woes it brings.”

“Let us leave that to the Lord, Joseph, and do what it is ours to do.”

When Joseph was alone with her he said:  “It seems to me, Mary, that you believe our Jesus is destined for great things.  But you must remember that a basket-maker’s hut is not exactly the right place for that.  He would have a better chance at Pharaoh’s court—­like Moses.  And we know that the King of Egypt is no friend of Herod.  No, that is not his line; he really wishes well to the child, and no one can better understand that than ourselves.  Did he not say that our darling should be treated like the children of the nobles?”

In the end she decided to do what was best for the child.  He was past ten years old, and if he wished to go from the mud hut to the palace, well, she would not forbid it.

Jesus heard her words.  “Mother,” he said, and stood in front of her, “I do not wish to go from the mud hut to the palace, but I want to see the world and men and how they live.  I am not abandoning my parents to go to Pharaoh—­although I go, I remain here with you.”

“You remain with us,” said his mother, “and yet I see that even now you are no longer here.”