The Pharaoh And The Priest Part 5

"And thou must be a dancer," answered the girl, grown courageous. "Oh!

I am even certain that I saw thee at the fair in Pi-Bailos, enchanting serpents."

The two young men fell into perfect humor.

"But who art thou?" asked Rameses of the girl, taking her hand, which she drew back.

"Be not so bold. I am Sarah, the daughter of Gideon, the manager of this estate."

"A Jewess," said Rameses; and a shadow pa.s.sed over his face.

"What harm in that? what harm in that?" cried Tutmosis. "Dost think that Jewesses are less sweet than Egyptian girls? They are only more modest and more difficult, which gives their love an uncommon charm."

"So ye are pagans," said Sarah, with dignity. "Rest, if ye are tired, pluck some grapes for yourselves, and go with G.o.d. Our servants are not glad to see guests like you."

She wished to go, but Rameses detained her.

"Stop! Thou hast pleased me, and may not leave us in this way."

"The evil spirit has seized thee; no one in this valley would dare to speak thus to me," said Sarah, now indignant.

"Yes; for, seest thou," interrupted Tutmosis, "this young man is an officer of the priestly regiment of Ptah, and a secretary of the secretary of a lord who carries his fan over the fan-carrier of the nomarch of Habu."

"Surely he must be an officer," answered Sarah, looking with thoughtfulness at Rameses. "Maybe he is a great lord himself?" added she, putting her finger on her lips.

"Whoever I am, thy beauty surpa.s.ses my dignity," answered he, suddenly. "But tell me, is it true that the Jews eat pork?"

Sarah looked at him offended; and Tutmosis added,--

"How evident it is that thou knowest not Jewesses! I tell thee that a Jew would rather die than eat pork, which, for my part, I do not consider as the worst--"

"But do they eat cats?" insisted Rameses, pressing Sarah's hand and looking into her eyes.

"And that is a fable, a vile fable!" exclaimed Tutmosis. "Thou mightst have asked me about those things instead of talking nonsense. I have had three Jewish mistresses."

"So far thou hast told the truth, but now thou art lying," called out Sarah. "A Jewess would not be any man's mistress," added she, proudly.

"Even the mistress of the secretary of a lord who carries the fan for the nomarch of Memphis?" asked Tutmosis, jeeringly.

"Even--"

"Even the mistress of the lord who carries the fan?"

Sarah hesitated, but answered,--

"Even."

"Then perhaps she would not become the mistress of the nomarch?"

The girl's hands dropped. With astonishment she looked in turn at the young men; her lips quivered, and her eyes filled with tears.

"Who are ye?" inquired she, alarmed. "Ye have come down from the hills, like travellers who wish bread and water, but ye speak to me as might the greatest lords. Who are ye? Thy sword," said she, turning to Rameses, "is set with emeralds, and on thy neck is a chain of such work as even our lord, the great Sesofris, has not in his treasury."

"Better tell me if I please thee," insisted Rameses, pressing her hand and looking into her eyes tenderly.

"Thou art beautiful, as beautiful as the angel Gabriel; but I fear thee, for I know not who thou art."

Then from beyond the hilltop was heard the sound of a trumpet.

"They are calling thee!" cried Tutmosis.

"And if I were as great a lord as thy Sesofris?" asked Rameses.

"Then maybe--" answered Sarah.

"And if I carried the fan of the nomarch of Memphis?"

"Thou mayest be even as great as that--"

Somewhere beyond the hill was heard the second trumpet.

"Come, Rameses!" insisted the frightened Tutmosis.

"But if I were--heir to the throne, wouldst thou come to me?" cried the prince.

"O Jehovah!" exclaimed Sarah, dropping on her knees.

From various points trumpets summoned, now urgently.

"Let us run!" cried Tutmosis, in desperation. "Dost thou not hear the alarm in the camp?"

Rameses took the chain from his neck quickly and threw it on Sarah.

"Give this to thy father. I will buy thee from him. Be in health."

He kissed her lips pa.s.sionately, and she embraced his knees. He tore away, ran a couple of paces, turned again, and again fondled her beautiful face and dark hair with kisses, as if he heard not those impatient calls to the army.

"In the name of his holiness the pharaoh, I summon thee, follow me!"

cried Tutmosis; and he seized the prince's hand.

They ran toward the trumpet-calls. Rameses tottered at moments like a drunken man, and turned his head. At last they were climbing the opposite hill.

"And this man," thought Tutmosis, "wants to battle with the priesthood!"

CHAPTER IV