py girl from ill-usage by the mob, he had raised his
hand in fight, and dealt indeed some heavy blows.

"You have killed four men," said Ameni, "and severely wounded twice as
many. Why did you not reveal yourself as a priest, as the speaker of the
morning's discourse? Why did you not endeavor to persuade the people with
words of warning, rather than with brute force?"

"I had no priest's garment," replied Pentaur. "There again you did
wrong," said Ameni, "for you know that the law requires of each of us
never to leave this house without our white robes. But you cannot pretend
not to know your own powers of speech, nor to contradict me when I assert
that, even in the plainest working-dress, you were perfectly able to
produce as much effect with words as by deadly blows!" "I might very
likely have succeeded," answered Pentaur, "but the most savage temper
ruled the crowd; there was no time for reflection, and when I struck down
the villain, like some reptile, who had seized the innocent girl, the
lust of fighting took possession of me. I cared no more for my own life,
and to save the child I would have slain thousands."

"Your eyes sparkle," said Ameni, "as if you had performed some heroic
feat; and yet the men you killed were only unarmed and pious citizens,
who were roused to indignation by a gross and shameless outrage. I cannot
conceive whence the warrior-spirit should have fallen on a gardener's
son--and a minister of the Gods."

"It is true," answered Pentaur, "when the crowd rushed upon me, and I
drove them back, putting out all my strength, I felt something of the
warlike rage of the soldier, who repulses the pressing foe from the
standard committed to his charge. It was sinful in a priest, no doubt,
and I will repent of it--but I felt it."

"You felt it--and you will repent of it, well and good," replied Ameni.
"But you have not given a true account of all that happened. Why have you
concealed that Bent-Anat--Rameses' daughter--was mixed up in the fray,
and that she saved you by announcing her name to the people, and
commanding them to leave you alone? When you gave her the lie before all
the people, was it because you did not believe that it was Bent-Anat?
Now, you who stand so firmly on so high a platform--now you
standard-bearer of the truth answer me."

Pentaur had turned pale at his master's words, and said, as he looked at
the Regent:

"We are not alone."

"Truth is one!" said Ameni coolly. "What yo