Frequently their sparring took the form of a serious discussion, which served a double purpose; first their minds, accustomed to serious thought, found exercise in spite of the murderous pressure of the burden of forced labor, and secondly, they were supposed really to be enemies.  They slept in the same court-yard, and contrived, now and then, to exchange a few words in secret; but by day Nebsecht worked in the turquoise-diggings, and Pentaur in the mines, for the careful chipping out of the precious stones from their stony matrix was the work best suited to the slight physician, while Pentaur’s giant-strength was fitted for hewing the ore out of the hard rock.  The drivers often looked in surprise at his powerful strokes, as he flung his pick against the stone.

The stupendous images that in such moments of wild energy rose before the poet’s soul, the fearful or enchanting tones that rang in his spirit’s ear-none could guess at.

Usually his excited fancy showed him the form of Bent-Anat, surrounded by a host of men—­and these he seemed to fell to the earth, one-by-one, as-he hewed the rock.  Often in the middle of his work he would stop, throw down his pick-axe, and spread out his arms—­but only to drop them with a deep groan, and wipe the sweat from his brow.

The overseers did not know what to think of this powerful youth, who often was as gentle as a child, and then seemed possessed of that demon to which so many of the convicts fell victims.  He had indeed become a riddle to himself; for how was it that he—­the gardener’s son, brought up in the peaceful temple of Seti—­ever since that night by the house of the paraschites had had such a perpetual craving for conflict and struggle?

The weary gangs were gone to rest; a bright fire still blazed in front of the house of the superintendent of the mines, and round it squatted in a circle the overseers and the subalterns of the troops.

“Put the wine-jar round again,” said the captain, “for we must hold grave council.  Yesterday I had orders from the Regent to send half the guard to Pelusium.  He requires soldiers, but we are so few in number that if the convicts knew it they might make short work of us, even without arms.  There are stones enough hereabouts, and by day they have their hammer and chisel.  Things are worst among the Hebrews in the copper-mines; they are a refractory crew that must be held tight.  You know me well, fear is unknown to me—­but I feel great anxiety.  The last fuel is now burning in this fire, and the smelting furnaces and the glass-foundry must not stand idle.  Tomorrow we must send men to Raphidim

   [The oasis at the foot of Horeb, where the Jews under Joshua’s
   command conquered the Amalekites, while Aaron and Hur held up Moses’
   arms.  Exodus 17, 8.]

to obtain charcoal from the Amalekites.  They owe us a hundred loads still.  Load the prisoners with some copper, to make them tired and the natives civil.  What can we do to procure what we want, and yet not to weaken the forces here too much?”