“Three citizens of Egypt who have a message for Pharaoh,” answered Seti in his quiet voice, “which we have travelled fast and far to speak in time.”

“How are you named, citizens of Egypt, and who sends your message?”

“We are named, Seti Meneptah aforetime Prince of Egypt, and heir to its crown; Bakenkhonsu the aged Councillor, and Ana the scribe and King’s Companion, and our message is from the gods.”

“We have heard those names, who has not?” said Pharaoh, and as he spoke all, or very nearly all, the company rose, or half rose, and bowed towards the Prince.  “Will you and your companions be seated and eat, Prince Seti Meneptah?”

“We thank the divine Pharaoh, but we have already eaten.  Have we Pharaoh’s leave to deliver our message?”

“Speak on, Prince.”

“O Pharaoh, many moons have gone by, since last we looked upon each other face to face, on that day when my father, the good god Meneptah, disinherited me, and afterwards fled hence to Osiris.  Pharaoh will remember why I was thus cut off from the royal root of Egypt.  It was because of the matter of these Israelites, who in my judgment had been evilly dealt by, and should be suffered to leave our land.  The good god Meneptah, being so advised by you and others, O Pharaoh, would have smitten the Israelites with the sword, making an end of them, and to this he demanded my assent as the Heir of Egypt.  I refused that assent and was cast out, and since then, you, O Pharaoh, have worn the double crown, while I have dwelt as a citizen of Memphis, living upon such lands and revenues as are my own.  Between that hour and this, O Pharaoh, many griefs have smitten Egypt, and the last of them cost you your first-born, and me mine.  Yet through them all, O Pharaoh, you have refused to let these Hebrews go, as I counselled should be done at the beginning.  At length after the death of the first-born, your decree was issued that they might go.  Yet now you follow them with a great army and purpose to do to them what my father, the good god Meneptah, would have done, had I consented, namely—­to destroy them with the sword.  Hear me, Pharaoh!”

“I hear; also the case is well if briefly set.  What else would the Prince Seti say?”

“This, O Pharaoh.  That I pray you to return with all your host from the following of these Hebrews, not to-morrow or the next day, but at once—­this night.”

“Why, O Prince?”

“Because of a certain dream that a lady of my household who is Hebrew has dreamed, which dream foretells destruction to you and the army of Egypt, unless you hearken to these words of mine.”

“I think that we know of this snake whom you have taken to dwell in your bosom, whence it may spit poison upon Egypt.  It is named Merapi, Moon of Israel, is it not?”

“That is the name of the lady who dreamed the dream,” replied Seti in a cold voice, though I felt him tremble with anger at my side, “the dream that if Pharaoh wills my companions here shall set out word for word to his magicians.”