“I did, O Prince.”

“Who was that woman and what did she say?”

“She was one who bore a child to you, O Prince, which child is not, and she said, ‘Oh! help me, my lord Seti.  Help me, my lord Seti!’”

His face grew ashen even beneath its veil of dust, and he groaned.

“Two who loved her have seen and two who loved her have heard,” he said.  “There is no room for doubt.  Ana, she is dead!”

“I pray the gods——­”

“Pray not, for the gods of Egypt are also dead, slain by the god of Israel.  Ana, who has murdered her?”

With my finger I who am a draughtsman drew in the thick dust that lay on the board of the chariot the brows of a man and beneath them two deep eyes.  The gilt on the board where the sun caught it looked like light in the eyes.

The Prince nodded and said: 

“Now we shall learn whether great magicians such as Ki can die like other men.  Yes, if need be, to learn that I will put on Pharaoh’s crown.”

We halted at the gates of Memphis.  They were shut and barred, but from within the vast city rose a sound of tumult.

“Open!” cried the Prince to the guard.

“Who bids me open?” answered the captain of the gate peering at us, for the low sun lay behind.

“Pharaoh bids you open.”

“Pharaoh!” said the man.  “We have sure tidings that Pharaoh and his armies are slain by wizardry in the sea.”

“Fool!” thundered the Prince, “Pharaoh never dies.  Pharaoh Amenmeses is with Osiris but the good god Seti Meneptah who is Pharaoh bids you open.”

Then the bronze gates rolled back, and those who guarded them prostrated themselves in the dust.

“Man,” I called to the captain, “what means yonder shouting?”

“Sir,” he answered, “I do not know, but I am told that the witch who has brought woe on Egypt and by magic caused the death of Pharaoh Amenmeses and his armies, dies by fire in the place before the temple.”

“By whose command?” I cried again as the charioteer flogged the horses, but no answer reached our ears.

We rushed on up the wide street to the great place that was packed with tens of thousands of the people.  We drove the horses at them.

“Way for Pharaoh!  Way for the Mighty One, the good god, Seti Meneptah, King of the Upper and the Lower Land!” shouted the escort.

The people turned and saw the tall shape of the Prince still clad in the robes of state which he had worn when he stood before Amenmeses in the pavilion by the sea.

“Pharaoh!  Pharaoh!  Hail to Pharaoh!” they cried, prostrating themselves, and the cry passed on through Memphis like a wind.