“Drag her off, or I smite through her,” shouted the captain, for now she had thrown herself down upon the fallen Israelite.  The overseers obeyed, tearing her away.

“Hold, butcher!” cried the Prince.

“Who are you, dog, that dare to teach Pharaoh’s officer his duty?” answered the captain, smiting the Prince in the face with his left hand.

Then swiftly he struck downwards and I saw the bronze sword pass through the body of the Israelite who quivered and lay still.  It was all done in an instant, and on the silence that followed rang out the sound of a woman’s wail.  For a moment Seti choked—­with rage, I think.  Then he spoke a single word—­“Guards!”

The four Nubians, who, as ordered, had kept at a distance, burst through the gathered throng.  Ere they reached us I, who till now had stood amazed, sprang at the captain and gripped him by the throat.  He struck at me with his bloody sword, but the blow, falling on my long cloak, only bruised me on the left thigh.  Then I, who was strong in those days, grappled with him and we rolled together on the ground.

After this there was great tumult.  The Hebrew slaves burst their rope and flung themselves upon the soldiers like dogs upon a jackal, battering them with their bare fists.  The soldiers defended themselves with swords; the overseers plied their hide whips; women screamed, men shouted.  The captain whom I had seized began to get the better of me; at least I saw his sword flash above me and thought that all was over.  Doubtless it would have been, had not Seti himself dragged the man backwards and thus given the four Nubian guards time to seize him.  Next I heard the Prince cry out in a ringing voice: 

“Hold!  It is Seti, the son of Pharaoh, the Governor of Tanis, with whom you have to do.  See,” and he threw back the hood of his cloak so that the moon shone upon his face.

Instantly there was a great quiet.  Now, first one and then another as the truth sunk into them, men began to fall upon their knees, and I heard one say in an awed voice: 

“The royal Son, the Prince of Egypt struck in the face by a soldier!  Blood must pay for it.”

“How is that officer named?” asked Seti, pointing to the man who had killed the Israelite and well-nigh killed me.

Someone answered that he was named Khuaka.

“Bring him to the steps of the temple of Amon,” said Seti to the Nubians who held him fast.  “Follow me, friend Ana, if you have the strength.  Nay, lean upon my shoulder.”

So resting upon the shoulder of the Prince, for I was bruised and breathless, I walked with him a hundred paces or more to the steps of the great temple where we climbed to the platform at the head of the stairs.  After us came the prisoner, and after him all the multitude, a very great number who stood upon the steps and on the flat ground beyond.  The Prince, who was very white and quiet, sat himself down upon the low granite base of a tall obelisk which stood in front of the temple pylon, and said: