er his mantle a gold medal.

"In the name of the supreme council, of which I am a member," said he,
"I command thee to yield this man to us. Remember that his existence is
among the highest state secrets, and indeed it would be a hundred times
better for thee to forget that Thou hast left him here."

The chief fell again to the pavement, and went out repressing his
anger.

"Our lord the prince will repay you when he is the pharaoh!" thought
he. "And he will pay you my part ye will see."

"Where is the prisoner?" asked the agents standing before the gate.

"In prison," answered the chief; "the hands of the gods have rested on
him."

"And our reward?" asked the elder agent.

"The hands of the gods have rested on your reward also. Imagine then to
yourselves that ye saw that prisoner only in a dream, ye will be safer
in health and in service."

The agents dropped their heads in silence. But in their hearts they
swore vengeance against the priests, who had taken a handsome reward
from them.

After the chief had gone Mefres summoned a number of priests, and
whispered something into the ears of the eldest. The priests surrounded
the Greek and conducted him out of the chamber. Lykon made no
resistance.

"I think," said Sem, "that this man should be brought before the court
as a murderer."

"Never!" cried Mefres, with decision. "On this man weighs an
incomparably greater crime, he is like the heir to the throne."

"And what wilt Thou do with him, worthiness?"

"I will reserve him for the supreme council," said Mefres. "When the
heir to the throne visits pagan temples and steals from them women,
when the country is threatened with danger of war, and the power of the
priests with rebellion, Lykon may be of service."

On the following midday the high priest Sem, the nomarch, and the chief
of police went to Sarah's prison. The unfortunate woman had not eaten
for a number of days, and was so weak that she did not rise from the
bench even in presence of so many dignitaries.

"Sarah," said the nomarch, whom she had known before, "we bring thee
good news."

"News," repeated she with a pathetic voice. "My son is not living, that
is the news; my breast is full of nourishment, but my heart is full of
sadness."

"Sarah," said the nomarch, "Thou art free. Thou didst not kill thy
child."

Her seemingly dead features revived. She sprang from the bench, and
cried,

"I I killed him only I."

"Consider, Sarah, a man k