There was confusion in the audience: women screamed, men imprecated, and hurled at the bull whatever each one found nearest. Sticks, knives, even bench tops fell on the arena. Then a man with a sword rushed at the raging bull. But the dart men lost their heads and left him unsupported; hence the bull tossed him and pursued the others. A thing unparalleled in amphitheatres took place then: five men were lying on the arena; others, defending themselves badly, were fleeing before the beast, while the audience was roaring from fear or from anger.

Next there was perfect silence; the spectators rose and bent forward out of their places, the terrified Hiram grew pale and crossed his hands. Down to the arena, from the boxes of dignitaries, sprang two men,--Prince Rameses, with a drawn sword, and Sargon, with a short-handled axe.

The bull, with head down and tail in the air, was racing around the arena, leaving clouds of dust behind him. The beast rushed straight toward the prince, but, as if repulsed by the majesty of the youth, avoided him, made directly at Sargon, and dropped to the earth. The a.s.syrian, adroit and immensely strong, stretched him with one blow of his axe, given between the eyes.

The audience howled with delight, and threw flowers at Sargon and his victim. Rameses stood still with drawn sword, astonished and angry, seeing how Kama s.n.a.t.c.hed flowers from her neighbors and threw them to the a.s.syrian.

Sargon received expressions of public delight with indifference. He pushed the bull with his foot to be sure that the beast was lifeless; and then, going a couple of steps toward the prince, said something in his own speech, and bowed with the dignity of a magnate.

A b.l.o.o.d.y mist pa.s.sed before the prince's eyes; he would have buried his sword in the victor's breast gladly. But he conquered himself, thought a moment, and taking a gold chain from his neck gave it to Sargon.

The a.s.syrian bowed again, kissed the chain, and put it around his neck. But the prince, with a bluish flush on his cheeks, returned to the door by which actors entered the arena, and amid plaudits of the audience left the amphitheatre with a feeling of deep humiliation.

CHAPTER x.x.xIV

It was the month Thoth. In the city of Pi-Bast and its environs the concourse of people had begun, because of heat, to diminish. But the court of Rameses amused itself always, and people talked of what had happened in the amphitheatre.

Courtiers praised the courage of the prince, maladroit men wondered at the strength of Sargon, the priests whispered with important mien that in every case the heir to the throne should not involve himself in bull-fights: for that there were men who were hired, or who, at least, did not possess public veneration.

Either Rameses did not hear these various opinions, or did not consider them. As to the spectacle, two episodes were fixed in his memory: victory over the bull had been s.n.a.t.c.hed from him by the a.s.syrian, who had also paid court to Kama, and she had received his attentions most willingly.

Since he might not bring the Phnician priestess to his palace, he sent one day a letter to her in which he declared that he wished to see her, and inquired when she would receive him. Through the same messenger Kama replied that she would wait for him that evening.

Barely had the stars shown themselves, when the prince (with the greatest secrecy, as he thought) slipped out of the palace, and went to the villa. The garden of the temple of Astaroth was almost empty, especially near the house of the priestess. The building was silent, and inside only two tapers were burning.

When the prince knocked timidly, the priestess herself drew the door open. In the dark antechamber she kissed his hand, whispering that she would have died had the raging bull injured him in the arena.

"But now thou must be at rest, since thy lover saved me," said the prince.

When they entered the lighted chamber, Rameses saw that Kama was weeping.

"What does this mean?" inquired he.

"The heart of my lord has turned from me," said she; "but perhaps justly."

The heir laughed bitterly in answer.

"Then, sacred virgin, thou art already his mistress, or about to be?"

"Mistress? Never! But I may become the wife of that dreadful a.s.syrian."

Rameses sprang from his seat.

"Am I dreaming," cried he, "or has Set cast his curse on me? Thou, a priestess, guarding the fire before the altar of Astaroth,--thou, who under the threat of death must be a virgin, art thou going to marry?

In truth, Phnician deceit is worse than people's account of it."

"Hear me, lord," said Kama, wiping her tears away, "and condemn if I deserve it. Sargon wishes to take me as his first wife. According to our laws a priestess may, in very exceptional cases, become a wife, but only if the man is of kingly origin. Sargon is a relative of King a.s.sar."

"And wilt thou marry him?"

"If the supreme council of Tyrian priests command me, what can I do?"

replied she, bursting into tears again.

"And what is Sargon to that council?" asked the prince.

"Very much, perhaps," said Kama, with a sigh. "The a.s.syrians will take Phnicia in all likelihood, and Sargon will be its satrap."

"Art thou demented?" exclaimed the prince.

"I say what I know. In our temple we have begun prayers the second time to avert misfortune from Phnicia. We had our first prayers before thou didst come to us."

"Why do ye pray now?"

"Because the Chaldean priest Istubar has just come to Egypt with letters, in which King a.s.sar appoints Sargon his amba.s.sador to conclude a treaty with you about the taking of Phnicia--"

"But I--" interrupted the prince.

He wished to say, "know nothing," but he restrained himself, laughed, and answered,--

"Kama, I swear to thee, on the honor of my father, that while I live a.s.syria will not take Phnicia. Is that enough?"

"Oh, lord, lord!" cried she, falling at his feet.

"Then thou wilt not become the wife of that rude fellow?"

"Oh," shuddered she, "canst thou ask such a question?"

"And thou wilt be mine," whispered the prince.

"Dost thou wish my death?" asked she, terrified. "Well, if thou wish it, I am ready."

"I wish thee to live," whispered he, impa.s.sioned,--"to live, belonging to me."

"That cannot be."

"But the supreme council of Tyrian priests?"

"They can permit nothing but marriage."

"But thou wilt enter my house."

"If I enter it not as thy wife, I shall die. But I am ready even not to see to-morrow's sun."

"Be at rest," replied the prince, seriously. "Whoso has my favor will not experience injustice."