accomplished
by my wisdom and the help of the angry Gods, behold I come with all my
shame upon my head to declare the thing I am, and take the traitor's
guerdon!"

"Mindest thou of the doom of him who hath broke the oath that may not be
broke?" asked he who first had spoken, in heavy tones.

"I know it well," I answered; "I court that awful doom."

"Tell us more of this matter, thou who wast Harmachis."

So, in cold clear words, I laid bare all my shame, keeping back nothing.
And ever as I spoke I saw their faces grow more hard, and knew that for
me there was no mercy; nor did I ask it, nor, had I asked, could it have
been granted.

When, at last, I had done, they put me aside while they took counsel.
Then they drew me forth again, and the eldest among them, a man very old
and venerable, the Priest of the Temple of the Divine Hatshepu at Tape,
spoke, in icy accents:

"Thou Harmachis, we have considered this matter. Thou hast sinned the
threefold deadly sin. On thy head lies the burden of the woe of Khem,
this day enthralled of Rome. To Isis, the Mother Mystery, thou hast
offered the deadly insult, and thou hast broken thy holy oath. For all
of these sins there is, as well thou knowest, but one reward, and that
reward is thine. Naught can it weigh in the balance of our justice that
thou hast slain her who was thy cause of stumbling; naught that thou
comest to name thyself the vilest thing who ever stood within these
walls. On thee also must fall the curse of Menkau-ra, thou false priest!
thou forsworn patriot! thou Pharaoh shameful and discrowned! Here, where
we set the Double Crown upon thy head, we doom thee to the doom! Go to
thy dungeon and await the falling of its stroke! Go, remembering what
thou mightest have been and what thou art, and may those Gods who
through thy evil doing shall perchance ere long cease to be worshipped
within these holy temples, give to thee that mercy which we deny! Lead
him forth!"

So they took me and led me forth. With bowed head I went, looking not
up, and yet I felt their eyes burn upon my face.

Oh! surely of all my shames this is the heaviest!

CHAPTER X

OF THE LAST WRITING OF HARMACHIS, THE ROYAL EGYPTIAN

They led me to the prison chamber that is high in the pylon tower and
here I wait my doom. I know not when the sword of Fate shall fall. Week
grows to week, and month to month, and still it is delayed. Still it
quivers unseen above my head. I know that it w