He stroked his beard, thought awhile; at last he rose, took from his bosom a purple ribbon on which were fastened three golden amulets with a portrait of the G.o.ddess Astaroth. He drew from his girdle a knife, cut the ribbon into three parts, and gave two of these with the amulets to Dagon and Rabsun.

Then all three went to the middle of the room to the corner where stood a winged statue of the G.o.ddess; they put their hands on the statue, and Hiram repeated in a low voice, but clearly,--

"To thee, O Mother of Life, we swear faithfully to observe our agreements, and not to rest till the sacred places be secure from enemies,--may they be destroyed by hunger, fire, and pestilence.

"And should one of us fail in his obligations, or betray a secret, may all calamities and disgrace fall on him! May hunger twist his entrails, and sleep flee from his bloodshot eyes! May the hand of the man wither who hastens to him with rescue and pities him in his misery! May the bread on his table turn into rottenness, and the wine into stinking juice! May his children die out, and his house be filled with b.a.s.t.a.r.ds who will spit on him and expel him! May he die groaning through many days in loneliness, and may neither earth nor water receive his vile carca.s.s, may no fire burn it, no wild beasts devour it!"

"Thus let it be!"

After this terrible oath, which Hiram began, and the second half of which all shouted forth in voices trembling from rage, the three panting Phnicians rested. After that Rabsun conducted them to a feast where with wine, music, and dancers they forgot for a time the work awaiting them.

CHAPTER XXVI

Not far from the city of Pi-Bast stood the temple of the G.o.ddess Hator.

In the month Paoni (March-April), on the day of the vernal equinox, about nine in the evening, when the star Sirius inclined toward its setting, two wayfaring priests and one penitent stopped in the gateway. The penitent, who was barefoot, had ashes on his head, and was covered with a coa.r.s.e cloth which concealed his visage.

Though the air was clear, it was impossible to distinguish the faces of those wayfarers. They stood in the shadow of two immense statues of the cow-headed divinity which guarded the entrance to the temple and with kindly eyes protected the province of Habu from pestilence, southern winds, and bad overflows.

When he had rested somewhat, the penitent fell with his face to the earth and prayed long in that position. Then he rose, took a copper knocker, and struck a blow. A deep metallic sound went through all the courts, reverberated from the thick walls of the temple, and flew over the wheat-fields, above the mud cottages of earth-tillers, over the silvery waters of the Nile, where the faint cry of wakened birds answered it.

After a long time a murmur was heard inside, and the question,--

"Who rouses us?"

"Rameses, a slave of the divinity," said the penitent.

"For what hast thou come?"

"For the light of wisdom."

"What right hast them to ask for it?"

"I received the inferior consecration, and in great processions within the temple I carry a torch."

The gates opened widely. In the centre stood a priest in a white robe; he stretched forth his hand, and said slowly and distinctly,--

"Enter. When thou crossest this threshold, may divine peace dwell in thy soul, and may that be accomplished for which thou implorest humbly."

When the penitent had fallen at his feet, the priest, making some signs above his head, whispered,--

"In the name of Him who is, who has been, and who will be, who created everything, whose breath fills the visible and the invisible world, and who is life eternal."

When the gate had closed, the priest took Rameses by the hand, and in the gloom amid the immense columns of the forecourt he led him to the dwelling a.s.signed to him. It was a small cell lighted by a lamp. On the stone pavement lay a bundle of dry gra.s.s; in a corner stood a pitcher of water, and near it was a barley cake.

"I see that here I shall have rest indeed after my occupations with the nomarchs," said Rameses, joyously.

"Think of eternity," replied the priest; and he withdrew.

This answer struck Rameses disagreeably. Though he was hungry, he did not wish to eat a cake or drink water. He sat on the gra.s.s, and looking at his feet wounded from the journey, asked himself why he had come, why he had put himself voluntarily out of his office.

Seeing the walls of the cell and its poverty, he recalled the years of his boyhood pa.s.sed at a priests' school. How many blows of sticks he had received there, how many nights he had pa.s.sed on a stone floor as punishment! Even then Rameses felt the hatred and fear which he had felt before toward that harsh priest who to all his prayers and questions answered only with, "Think of eternity."

After some months of uproar to drop into such silence, to exchange the court of a prince for obscurity and loneliness, and instead of feasts, women, and music, to feel around and above him the weight of walls!

"I have gone mad! I have gone mad!" muttered Rameses.

There was a moment when he wished to leave the temple at once; but afterward he thought that they might not open the gate to him. The sight of his dirty legs, of the ashes falling out of his hair, the roughness of his penitential rags, all this disgusted him. If he had had his sword even! But would he, dressed as he was in that place, dare to use it?

He felt an overpowering dread, and that sobered him. He remembered that the G.o.ds in temples send down fear on men, and that this fear must be the beginning of wisdom.

"Moreover, I am the viceroy and the heir of the pharaoh," thought he; "who will harm me in this temple?"

He rose and went out of the cell. He found himself in a broad court surrounded by columns. The stars were shining brightly; hence he saw at one end of the court an immense pylon, at the other an open entrance to the temple.

He went thither. At the door there was gloom, and somewhere far off flamed a number of lamps, as if in the air and unsupported. Looking more attentively, he saw standing closely together between the entrance and the lamps a forest of columns, the tops of which were lost in darkness. At a distance, perhaps two hundred yards from him, he saw indistinctly the gigantic legs of a sitting G.o.ddess with her hands resting on her knees, from which the lamplight was reflected dimly.

All at once he heard a sound from afar. From a side pa.s.sage a row of white figures pushed forth, moving in couples. This was a night procession of priests, who, singing in two choruses, gave homage to the statue of the G.o.ddess: _Chorus I._ "I am He who created heaven and earth and made all things contained in them." _Chorus II._ "I am He who created the waters and the great overflow, He who made for the bull his mother whose parent he himself is." _Chorus I._ "I am He who made heaven and the secrets of its horizon; as to the G.o.ds I it was who placed their souls in them." _Chorus II._ "I am He who when he opens his eyes there is light in the world and when he closes them darkness is present." _Chorus I._ "The waters of the Nile flow when he commands." _Chorus II._ "But the G.o.ds do not know what his name is."[9]

[9] Authentic.

The voices, indistinct at first, grew stronger, so that each word was audible, and when the procession disappeared the words scattered among the columns, growing ever fainter. At last every sound ceased.

"And still those people," thought Rameses, "not only eat, drink, and gather wealth--they really perform religious services even in the night-time; though, how is that to affect the statue?"

The prince had seen more than once the statues of boundary divinities bespattered with mud by the inhabitants of another province, or shot at from bows or slings by mercenary soldiers. "If G.o.ds are not offended by insult, they must also care little for prayers and processions. Besides, who has seen G.o.ds?" said the prince to himself.

The immensity of the temple, its countless columns, the lamps burning in front of the statue,--all this attracted Rameses. He wished to look around in that mysterious immensity, and he went forward. Then it seemed to him that some hand from behind touched his head tenderly. He looked around. No one was there; so he went farther.

This time the two hands of some person seized him by the head, and a third, a great hand, rested on his shoulder.

"Who is here?" cried the prince; and he rushed in among the columns.

But he stumbled and almost fell: some one caught him by the feet.

Again terror mastered Rameses more than in the cell. He fled distracted, knocking against columns which seemed to bar the way to him, and darkness closed around the man on all sides.

"Oh, save, holy G.o.ddess, save me!" whispered he.

At this moment he stopped: some yards in front of him was the great door of a temple through which the starry sky was visible. He turned his head. Amid the forest of gigantic columns lamps were burning, and the gleam of them was reflected faintly from the bronze knees of the holy Hator.

The prince returned to his cell, crushed and excited; his heart throbbed like that of a bird caught in a net. For the first time in many years he fell with his face to the earth and prayed ardently for favor and forgiveness.

"Thou wilt be heard," answered a sweet voice above him.

Rameses raised his head quickly, but there was no one in the cell: the door was closed, the walls were thick. He prayed on therefore more ardently, and fell asleep in that position, with his face on the stones and his arms extended.

When he woke next morning, he was another man: he had experienced the might of the G.o.ds, and favor had been promised.