“It all sounds very threatening!” said the king.  “But though each of you croakers speaks the truth, your love for me dims your sight.  In fact, all that Rameri has told me, that Bent-Anat writes, that Mena’s stud-keeper says of Ani, and that comes through other channels—­amounts to nothing that need disturb us.  I know your uncle—­I know that he will make his borrowed throne as wide as he possibly can; but when we return home he will be quite content to sit on a narrow seat again.  Great enterprises and daring deeds are not what he excels in; but he is very apt at carrying out a ready-made system, and therefore I choose him to be my Regent.”

“But Ameni,” said Chamus, bowing respectfully to his father, “seems to have stirred up his ambition, and to support him with his advice.  The chief of the House of Seti is a man of great ability, and at least half of the priesthood are his adherents.”

“I know it,” replied the king.  “Their lordships owe me a grudge because I have called their serfs to arms, and they want them to till their acres.  A pretty sort of people they have sent me! their courage flies with the first arrow.  They shall guard the camp tomorrow; they will be equal to that when it is made clear to their understanding that, if they let the tents be taken, the bread, meat and wines-skins will also fall into the hands of the enemy.  If Kadesh is taken by storm, the temples of the Nile shall have the greater part of the spoil, and you yourself, my young high-priest of Memphis, shall show your colleagues that Rameses repays in bushels that which he has taken in handfuls from the ministers of the Gods.”

“Ameni’s disaffection,” replied Chamus, “has a deeper root; thy mighty spirit seeks and finds its own way—­”

“But their lordships,” interrupted Rameses, “are accustomed to govern the king too, and I—­I do not do them credit.  I rule as vicar of the Lord of the Gods, but—­I myself am no God, though they attribute to me the honors of a divinity; and in all humility of heart I willingly leave it to them to be the mediators between the Immortals and me or my people.  Human affairs certainly I choose to manage in my own way.  And now no more of them.  I cannot bear to doubt my friends, and trustfulness is so dear, so essential to me, that I must indulge in it even if my confidence results in my being deceived.”

The king glanced at Mena, who handed him a golden cup—­which he emptied.  He looked at the glittering beaker, and then, with a flash of his grave, bright eyes, he added: 

“And if I am betrayed—­if ten such as Ameni and Ani entice my people into a snare—­I shall return home, and will tread the reptiles into dust.”

His deep voice rang out the words, as if he were a herald proclaiming a victorious deed of arms.  Not a word was spoken, not a hand moved, when he ceased speaking.  Then he raised his cup, and said: 

“It is well before the battle to uplift our hearts!  We have done great deeds; distant nations have felt our hand; we have planted our pillars of conquest by their rivers, and graven the record of our deeds on their rocks.