“Your idea is quite right,” answered Darius, “but what I know I dare not tell.  I was obliged to promise Neithotep with an oath, not to tell tales out of school.”

“Shall I tell you,” asked Rhodopis, “what conclusions various hints from Pythagoras and Onuphis have led me to draw, as to the meaning of this drama?  Isis seems to me to represent the bountiful earth; Osiris, humidity or the Nile, which makes the earth fruitful; Horus, the young spring; Typhon, the scorching drought.  The bounteous earth, robbed of her productive power, seeks this beloved husband with lamentations in the cooler regions of the north, where the Nile discharges his waters.  At last Horus, the young springing power of nature, is grown up and conquers Typhon, or the scorching drought.  Osiris, as is the case with the fruitful principle of nature, was only apparently dead, rises from the nether regions and once more rules the blessed valley of the Nile, in concert with his wife, the bounteous earth.”

“And as the murdered god behaved properly in the lower regions,” said Zopyrus, laughing, “he is allowed, at the end of this odd story, to receive homage from the inhabitants of Hamestegan, Duzakh and Gorothman, or whatever they call these abodes for the Egyptian spirit-host.”

“They are called Amenti,” said Darius, falling into his friend’s merry mood; but you must know that the history of this divine pair represents not only the life of nature, but also that of the human soul, which, like the murdered Osiris, lives an eternal life, even when the body is dead.”

“Thank you,” said the other; “I’ll try to remember that if I should chance to die in Egypt.  But really, cost what it may, I must see this wonderful sight soon.”

“Just my own wish,” said Rhodopis.  “Age is inquisitive.”

“You will never be old,” interrupted Darius.  “Your conversation and your features have remained alike beautiful, and your mind is as clear and bright as your eyes.”

“Forgive me for interrupting you,” said Rhodopis, as if she had not heard his flattering words, “but the word ‘eyes’ reminds me of the oculist Nebenchari, and my memory fails me so often, that I must ask you what has become of him, before I forget.  I hear nothing now of this skilful operator to whom the noble Kassandane owes her sight.”

“He is much to be pitied,” replied Darius.  “Even before we reached Pelusium he had begun to avoid society, and scorned even to speak with his countryman Onuphis.  His gaunt old servant was the only being allowed to wait on or be with him.  But after the battle his whole behavior changed.  He went to the king with a radiant countenance, and asked permission to accompany him to Sais, and to choose two citizens of that town to be his slaves.  Cambyses thought he could not refuse anything to the man, who had been such a benefactor to his mother, and granted him full power to do what he wished.  On arriving at Amasis’ capital, he went at once