whispered Tutmosis, in anxiety.

"And Thou hast no need to understand," replied the viceroy. "Remember
only that Sargon has come hither for devotional purposes."

"It seems to me that everything of which Thou art speaking," said
Tutmosis, lowering his voice, "is very dangerous."

"Then do not mention it to any one."

"I will not; but art Thou sure that Thou thyself, prince, wilt not
betray the secret? Thou art as quick as lightning."

The prince placed his hand on the courtier's shoulder.

"Be at rest," said he, looking him in the eyes. "If ye will only be
loyal to me, ye, the nobles, and the army, ye will see wonderful
things, and, as regards you, evil times will be ended."

"Thou knowest that we are ready to die at thy command," said Tutmosis,
placing his hand on his breast.

There was such uncommon seriousness on the adjutant's face that the
prince understood, moreover not for the first time, that there was
concealed in that riotous exquisite a valiant man, on whose sword and
understanding he could put reliance.

From that time the prince had no more such strange conversations with
Tutmosis. But that faithful friend and servant divined that connected
with the arrival of Sargon were some great hidden interests of state
which the priests alone had decided.

For a certain time all the Egyptian aristocracy, nomarchs, higher
officials, and leaders had been whispering among themselves very
quietly, yes, very quietly, that important events were approaching. For
the Phoenicians under an oath to keep the secret had told them of
certain treaties with Assyria, according to which Phoenicia would be
lost, and Egypt be covered with disgrace and become even tributary.

Indignation among the aristocracy was immense, but no one betrayed
himself; on the contrary, as well at the court of Ramses as at the
courts of the nomarchs of Lower Egypt, people amused themselves
perfectly. It might have been thought that with the weather had fallen
on men a rage not only for amusements but for riot. There was no day
without spectacles, feasts, and triumphal festivals; there was no night
without illuminations and uproar. Not only in Pi-Bast but in every city
it had become the fashion to run through the streets with torches,
music, and, above all, with full pitchers. They broke into houses and
dragged out sleeping dwellers to drinking-bouts; and since the
Egyptians were inclined toward festivities every man living amused
himself.

Du