At this moment his t.i.tle, his power, the burdensome problems of state, all seemed to him mean, insignificant in comparison with that moonlight and those calls of a heart which is enamored. If the choice had been given him to take the whole power of the pharaoh, or that spiritual condition in which he then found himself, he would have preferred that dreaming, in which the whole world, he himself, even time, disappeared, leaving nothing behind but desire, which was now rushing forth to infinity borne on the wings of song and of music.

Meanwhile the prince recovered, the song had ended, the lights in the villa had vanished, the white walls, the dark vacant windows were sharply outlined. One might have thought that no person had ever been in that house there. The garden was deserted and silent, even the slight breath of air stirred the leaves no longer.

One! two! three!--From the temple were heard three mighty sounds from bronze.

"Ah! I must go," thought the prince, not knowing well whither he was to go or for what purpose.

He turned, however, in the direction of the temple, the silver tower of which rose above the trees as if summoning him.

He went as in a trance, filled with strange wishes. Among the trees it was narrow for him; he wished to ascend to the top of that tower, to draw breath, to take in with his glance some wider horizon. Again he remembered that it was the month Mesori, that a year had pa.s.sed since the manuvres; he felt a yearning for the desert. How gladly would he mount his light chariot drawn by two horses, and fly away to some place where it was not so stifling, and trees did not hide the horizon!

He was at the steps of the temple, so he mounted to the platform. It was quiet and empty there, as if all had died; but from afar the water of a fountain was murmuring. At the second stairway he threw aside his burnous and sword; once more he looked at the garden, as if he were sorry to leave the moonlight behind, and entered the temple. There were three stories above him.

The bronze doors were open; at both sides of the entrance stood winged figures of bulls with human heads; on the faces of these was dignified calmness.

"Those are kings of a.s.syria," thought the prince, looking at their beards plaited in tiny tresses.

The interior of the temple was as black as night when 'tis blackest.

The darkness was intensified more by white streaks of moonlight falling in through narrow high windows.

In the depth of the temple two lamps were burning before the statue of Astaroth. Some strange illumination from above caused the statue to be perfectly visible. Rameses gazed at it. That was a gigantic woman with the wings of an ostrich. She wore a long robe in folds; on her head was a pointed cap, in her right hand she held a pair of doves. On her beautiful face and in her downcast eyes was an expression of such sweetness and innocence that astonishment seized the prince, for she was the patroness of revenge and of license the most unbridled.

"Phnicia has shown me one more of her secrets. A strange people,"

thought Rameses. "Their man-eating G.o.ds do not eat, and their lewdness is guarded by virgin priestesses and by a G.o.ddess with an innocent face."

Thereupon he felt that something had slipped across his feet quickly, as it were a great serpent. Rameses drew back and stood in the streak of moonlight.

"A vision!" said he to himself.

Almost at that moment he heard a whisper,--

"Rameses! Rameses!"

It was impossible to discover whether that was a man's or a woman's voice, or whence it issued.

"Rameses! Rameses!" was heard a whisper, as if from the ceiling.

The prince went to an unilluminated place and, while looking, bent down.

All at once he felt two delicate hands on his head.

He sprang up to grasp them, but caught only air.

"Rameses!" was whispered from above.

He raised his head, and felt on his lips a lotus flower; and when he stretched his hands to it some one leaned on his arm lightly.

"Rameses!" called a voice from the altar.

The prince turned and was astounded. In the streak of light, a couple of steps distant, stood a most beautiful man, absolutely like the heir to the throne of Egypt. The same face, eyes, youthful stature, the same posture, movements, and dress.

The prince thought for a while that he was before some great mirror,--such a mirror as even the pharaoh could not have. But soon he convinced himself that his second was a living man, not a picture.

At that moment he felt a kiss on his neck. Again he turned, but there was no one; meanwhile his second self vanished.

"Who is here? I wish to know!" cried the angry prince.

"It is I--Kama," answered a sweet voice.

And in the strip of light appeared, a most beautiful woman, naked, with a golden girdle around her waist.

Rameses ran up and seized her by the hands. She did not flee.

"Art thou Kama?--No, thou art-- Yes, Dagon sent thee on a time, but then thou didst call thyself Fondling."

"But I am Fondling, too," replied she, navely.

"Is it thou who hast touched me with thy hands?"

"I."

"How?"

"Ao! in this way," answered she, throwing her arms around his neck, and kissing him.

Rameses seized her in his arms, but she tore herself free with a force which no one could have suspected in such a slight figure.

"Art thou then the priestess Kama? Was it to thee that that Greek sang to-night?" asked the prince, pressing her hands pa.s.sionately. "What sort of man is that singer?"

Kama shrugged her shoulders contemptuously.

"He is attached to our temple," was the answer.

Rameses' eyes flamed, his nostrils dilated, there was a roaring in his head. That same woman a few months before had made on him only a slight impression; but to-day he was ready to commit some mad deed because of her. He envied the Greek, and felt also indescribable sorrow at the thought that if she became his she must perish.

"How beautiful thou art," said he. "Where dost thou dwell? Ah, I know; in that villa. Is it possible to visit thee?--Of course it is. If thou receive singers, thou must receive me. Art thou really the priestess guarding the fire of this temple?"

"I am."

"And are the laws so severe that they do not permit thee to love? Ei, those are threats! For me thou wilt make exception."

"All Phnicia would curse me; the G.o.ds would take vengeance," replied she, with a smile.

Rameses drew her again toward him; again she tore herself free.

"Have a care, prince," said she, with a challenging look. "Phnicia is mighty, and her G.o.ds--"

"What care I for thy G.o.ds or Phnicia? Were a hair to fall from thy head, I would trample Phnicia as I might a foul reptile."