judgment of the commander-in-chief,
and no longer drove his horses. He himself had been obliged to confirm
this decision as just and even mild, for that man was worthy of death who
exposed his king to danger for the gratification of his own revenge.

Rameses had not seen Mena since his struggle with Paaker, but he listened
anxiously to the news which was brought him of the progress of his sorely
wounded officer.

The cheerful, decided, and practical nature of Rameses was averse to
every kind of dreaminess or self-absorption, and no one had ever seen
him, even in hours of extreme weariness, give himself up to vague and
melancholy brooding; but now he would often sit gazing at the ground in
wrapt meditation, and start like an awakened sleeper when his reverie was
disturbed by the requirements of the outer world around him. A hundred
times before he had looked death in the face, and defied it as he would
any other enemy, but now it seemed as though he felt the cold hand of the
mighty adversary on his heart. He could not forget the oppressive sense
of helplessness which had seized him when he had felt himself at the
mercy of the unrestrained horses, like a leaf driven by the wind, and
then suddenly saved by a miracle.

A miracle? Was it really Amon who had appeared in human form at his call?
Was he indeed a son of the Gods, and did their blood flow in his veins?

The Immortals had shown him peculiar favor, but still he was but a man;
that he realized from the pain in his wound, and the treason to which he
had been a victim. He felt as if he had been respited on the very
scaffold. Yes; he was a man like all other men, and so he would still be.
He rejoiced in the obscurity that veiled his future, in the many
weaknesses which he had in common with those whom he loved, and even in
the feeling that he, under the same conditions of life as his
contemporaries, had more responsibilities than they.

Shortly after his victory, after all the important passes and strongholds
had been conquered by his troops, he set out for Egypt with his train and
the vanquished princes. He sent two of his sons to Bent-Anat at Megiddo,
to escort her by sea to Pelusium; he knew that the commandant of the
harbor of that frontier fortress, at the easternmost limit of his
kingdom, was faithful to him, and he ordered that his daughter should not
quit the ship till he arrived, to secure her against any attempt on the
part of the Regent. A large part of t