ry Gods."

Now as the Captain spake, one came running up the hall, heeding neither
the dead nor the living. It was the old priest Rei, the Commander of the
Legion of Amen, who had been the Wanderer's guide, and his looks were
wild with fear.

"Hearken, Pharaoh!" he cried, "thy people lie dead by thousands in the
streets--the houses are full of dead. In the Temples of Ptah and Amen
many of the priests have fallen dead also."

"Hast thou more to tell, old man?" cried the Queen.

"The tale has not all been told, O Queen. The soldiers are mad with
fear and with the sight of death, and slay their captains; barely have
I escaped from those in my command of the Legion of Amen. For they swear
that this death has been brought upon the land because the Pharaoh will
not let the Apura go. Hither, then, they come to slay the Pharaoh,
and thee also, O Queen, and with them come many thousands of people,
catching up such arms as lie to their hands."

Now Pharaoh sank down groaning, but the Queen spake to the Wanderer:

"Anon thy weapon sang of war, Eperitus; now war is at the gates."

"Little I fear the rush of battle and the blows men deal in anger,
Lady," he made answer, "though a man may fear the Gods without shame.
Ho, Guards! close up, close up round me! Look not so pale-faced now
death from the Gods is done with, and we have but to fear the sword of
men."

So great was his mien and so glorious his face as he cried thus, and one
by one drew his long arrows forth and laid them on the board, that the
trembling Guards took heart, and to the number of fifty and one ranged
themselves on the edge of the dais in a double line. Then they also made
ready their bows and loosened the arrows in their quivers.

Now from without there came a roar of men, and anon, while those of the
house of Pharaoh, and of the guests and nobles, who sat at the feast and
yet lived, fled behind the soldiers, the brazen doors were burst in with
mighty blows, and through them a great armed multitude surged along
the hall. There came soldiers broken from their ranks. There came the
embalmers of the Dead; their hands were overfull of work to-night, but
they left their work undone; Death had smitten some even of these, and
their fellows did not shrink back from them now. There came the smith,
black from the forge, and the scribe bowed with endless writing; and
the dyer with his purple hands, and the fisher from the stream; and the
stunted weaver from the lo