DELIVERANCE
Had his bodily powers been weakened by starvation, his mind, enfeebled
in proportion, might, he thought, have played him false. But no; food
and wine had been supplied with constant regularity; and testing his
faculties in every way he could think of, he found them equal to any
effort of observation or reflection he desired to make. Once more he
tried the walls of his dungeon, and failed to discover the slightest
symptoms of an opening through which the visitor could have passed. This
seemed less surprising, as the blossoming of the ebony rod and sudden
growth of the lotus in flower denoted supernatural powers, which might
well penetrate a cubit of brickwork and a fathom or two of solid earth.
These wonders he accepted without question as worked by the spells of
that magic lore which could compel the gods themselves to do its
bidding; nor did he see reason to doubt, in his simple credulity, those
glimpses of the future which, though sealed to his own eyes, seemed
clear as day to his companion.
And that companion--who and what could he be? Sarchedon, whose ideas of
a magician were of the vaguest, had yet some indistinct persuasion that
such a professor must be old and stately, with long gray beard and
thoughtful wrinkled brow. His late visitor, however, could scarcely yet
have reached middle life, and on his countenance, so far as he had
observed it, was stamped the wary vigilance, the keen foresight, of the
man of action, rather than the serene and saddened wisdom that denotes
the man of thought. Those eyes, too, haunted him strangely. Where had he
seen the piercing gaze, half pitiful, half mocking, that seemed to
master a man's inmost feelings, and scorn them while it read? He grew
very restless and uneasy now. He paced to and fro in his dungeon,
clenching his hands, grinding his teeth, longing with wild feverish
desire to breathe the desert air, and strike a blow for liberty in the
light of day once more.
He had been calm, quiet, almost resigned when captivity seemed
inevitable, and death near at hand.
The time dragged on so, that again he slept, despairing, exhausted,
heart-sick with hope deferred. As usual in calamity, the darkest hour
was that which brought the dawn.
He was woke by the measured tramp of marching men. The door of his cell
opened, and a strong light streamed in, showing the passage outside
filled with archers. He drew himself together, like a wolf amongst the
hounds, resolved on fighting to the death; but the captain had fallen at
his feet, and was pressing the hem of Sarchedon's garment to his lips.
"Let my lord look favourably on his servant," said the archer, "whose
happy lot it is to conduct him into the presence of Pharaoh, there to be
clothed in a dress of honour, and to stand at the right hand of my lord
the king."
Confused, bewildered, all the more that he recalled the magician's
words, Sarchedon followed his conductor from the dungeon, gazing about
him amongst the guard like a man in a dream. Passing down their ranks,
he recognised him who had bestowed on the prisoner his own scanty meal
at the cell-door. The Assyrian wrenched from his tunic a golden clasp in
the form of a serpent--the only ornament save his mysterious amulet left
on his person--and thrust it in the bowman's hand as he went by. The
latter kissed it reverently, while he whispered in the next man's ear,
"A good deed is like a handful of millet cast into the Nile. After many
days, lo, the river goes back to its bed, and leaves you a harvest!"
"True enough," replied his comrade. "As our proverb runs, 'When the
waters wane, then sprouts the grain.' But the harvest of thy good deeds,
my friend, would be reaped but once in seven years at best."
"Silence!" interrupted his captain; and the archers closing in the rear,
escorted Sarchedon ceremoniously to the palace.
Here he was received by sundry officials gorgeously attired, and
obviously belonging to the royal household, who vied with each other in
rendering him every service that could be offered by inferiors to their
lord. They ushered him into a cool and spacious chamber, rich in
fantastic decorations, and ornamented with coloured figures of beast,
bird, and reptile. Here they stripped and rubbed him with fragrant
ointments; conducting him thence to the bath, from which two active
Ethiopians extricated him, grinning from ear to ear as they dried his
stalwart frame with the finest cloths, kneading and chafing limbs and
joints till his whole person glowed and tingled from the friction. Then
they brought him such a dress of honour as might become the favourite of
a king; and placing before him roast kid, parched locusts, milk, spices,
honey, wine, and fruit from Pharaoh's own table, left him to be served
by half a score of such Egyptian officials as waited on the king
himself.
Presently the same captain of archers who had brought him from the
dungeon appeared at the door of his chamber, prostrating himself with
extreme humility ere he ventured to advance.
"When my lord has eaten and drank," said he, "and comforted his heart, I
am sent to conduct him into the presence of Pharaoh. Thy servant is the
bearer of good tidings. Let him find favour in the sight of my lord."
"There needs not so much ceremony," answered Sarchedon. "Are we not
warriors both?--enemies yesterday, perhaps enemies to-morrow, in the
mean time friends and comrades to-day?"
"My lord speaks good words to the lowest of his servants, out of the
fulness of his own heart. How shall I answer him whom the king
delighteth to honour according to his greatness? What am I but dust
beneath the feet of my lord?"
While he spoke thus humbly, it was evident to the Assyrian that his
conductor did but veil under this affectation of extreme deference a
strong professional jealousy and an intense hatred of race. He
recognised in the Egyptian warrior's dress and harness the distinctive
marks of a certain company, celebrated in Pharaoh's armies for their
warlike prowess--a company that the Great King, with a handful of his
body-guard, had driven to the very gates of Memphis, during his last
campaign. Its captain would fain have been bending a bow to-day against
the Assyrian's breast, rather than thus humbling himself at every step
before a national enemy; but his first duty was to Pharaoh, and Pharaoh
had commanded that the prisoner should be brought to him with all the
honours of a prince.
They proceeded in silence through the lofty halls and corridors of the
palace, traversing that well-remembered court, in which stood the royal
judgment-seat--silent and deserted now but for several cats, arching
their backs and rubbing their sides against the pedestal of their own
special deity, and a pair of storks, each standing on one slender leg,
with head tucked back and wary eye, in the places of accuser and
accused, at the steps of Pharaoh's throne.
"I little thought to have come here again," said the light-hearted
Assyrian, "save as a doomed man passing naked to the stake; and, behold,
I march by in a dress of honour at the head of a hundred archers. Who
shall say what a day may bring forth?"
The well-drilled features of the Egyptian forced themselves to smile.
"Man is but a vain thing," he answered sententiously--"a strained shaft,
a riven harness, a broken bow! But the king's hand stretches far and
wide. He giveth or taketh away, setteth up or casteth down, and Pharaoh
lives for ever!"
The last four words he spoke in a loud voice, falling immediately on his
face; for they were entering the royal banquet-hall, at the extremity of
which the king sat in person, under a canopy of state, attended only by
his cup-bearer and the official who carried his fan.
A venerable man, whom Sarchedon recognised as having stood at his right
hand while the king administered judgment, now stepped forward, and
conducted the guest to a place of honour provided for him, apart from
the great lords and captains, who were ranged all down the hall. Passing
before the royal table with a low obeisance, the Assyrian could not but
be gratified by the reception accorded him: Pharaoh even raised the wine
to his lips in acknowledgment of his guest's salute, while in the dark
eyes that gleamed over his cup, Sarchedon thought he recognised
something of that mocking mirth which had so disturbed him in the
magician's gaze, who foretold the term of his captivity. But he was
destined to higher honours yet; for no sooner had he taken his seat than
a portion of meat and a cup of wine were served him from the king's own
table, by no less a person than the old man who had conducted him
thither--Phrenes, governor of Egypt, second only in rank and authority
to Pharaoh himself.
Adopting a tone of confidential intercourse, as with an equal, this
magnate now bade Sarchedon look round amongst these lords and captains
for the familiar face of a countryman. Had he not been so accustomed to
wonders of late, he could scarcely have believed his eyes when he
observed Sethos, gorgeously attired in the Assyrian fashion, seated like
himself in a place of honour, and pouring out a drink-offering to the
gods of his own land, ere he quenched his thirst with the choicest wine
of Egypt from a cup of gold.
"He will scarce recognise you in that dress," said Phrenes; "but it was
the command of Pharaoh to make amends for the mishap of your ill-usage
and imprisonment, by such honours as are paid to the prince who is next
the throne. He must needs be a man of mark at home for whose sake an
Assyrian king sends his own cup-bearer with an embassy to Pharaoh."
"An embassy to Pharaoh!" In the last stage of astonishment, Sarchedon
could only repeat the other's words.
"No less," assented Phrenes. "And you must not take offence if I tell
you it arrived here not a day too soon. Your accusation was a heavy one,
and the penalty of your crime was death. These sons of shepherds begin
to overrun the land. Some of our wisest counsellors would rejoice to be
rid of them once for all; but Pharaoh loves well to see great buildings
growing to the skies, cubit by cubit, and day by day. He would not
willingly let this people go. Meanwhile they increase and multiply till
it seems that ere long they will outnumber their lords. If they had
arms, or could use them, it might come to a bad ending. We keep them
down with labour, and tame them with blows; nevertheless, if a leader
should rise up amongst them, they have it in their power to vex us sore.
You had not crossed into the dominions of Pharaoh a day ere your person
and character were as well known to us as they are now. When it came out
that yours was the daring hand which smote the Egyptian, we did you the
justice to believe you were a dangerous offender, and condemned you
accordingly, even before you were accused."
"Your opinion of me far exceeded my merits," answered Sarchedon, who did
not fail to perceive he had run a very narrow risk. "To which of the
gods, then, did I owe my unexpected deliverance?"
"Neither to Thmei nor Thoth," replied Phrenes. "Justice and policy alike
counselled a short examination and a speedy sentence; but Pharaoh"--here
he dropped his voice with an affectation of extreme caution--"Pharaoh,
whose wisdom is infallible, determined that you should be kept in safe
ward until he had caused you to disclose the inmost secrets of this
captive people with whom you had cast in your lot."
"I could have told him nothing!" exclaimed Sarchedon; "nor would I have
turned traitor to the hand that succoured me for the half of his
kingdom."
"It is well, then," answered the other calmly, "that the question was
never asked. It must be a loud shriek to reach upper earth from those
dungeons of ours; and in my opinion, though Pharaoh thinks otherwise,
knowledge is bought too dear even from a criminal at the price of
torture."
Sarchedon shuddered. Glancing across the hall at the king's calm cruel
face, he could not help thinking how fruitless would have been an appeal
for mercy, how hopeless an attempt at escape. "Had you tortured me to
death," said he, "you would have gained nothing for yourselves but
shame!"
"There was fortunately no need," replied the other with exceeding
courtesy. "Ere Pharaoh had leisure to attend to your affairs in person,
lo, there comes a cloud of horsemen out of Assyria, bearing rich
presents, speaking honeyed words, yet demanding plainly enough that you
should be delivered to them unhurt; threatening vengeance if a single
hair of your head had fallen while in our charge. And Ninyas, it seems,
is no more to be trifled with than his father."
"Ninyas!" repeated Sarchedon. "Doth the Great King then rule no longer
in Babylon?"
"Have you not heard?" replied the other. "Ninus has gone to his gods,
wherever they may be, and Ninyas his son reigns in his stead. If the new
king's counsellors be like that gaudy youth who hath ridden here on
behalf of his lord, sound wisdom must be less sought after than shining
raiment about his throne."
He signed with something of contempt towards Sethos, who had now caught
sight of his countryman, and, being well warmed with wine, was showing
as much satisfaction as seemed compatible with the dignified presence in
which he found himself. The banquet, according to the custom of the
Egyptians, was prolonged to a late hour. When the guests could eat and
drink no more, singing-women entered the hall, bearing fruit and flowers
and golden measures of the rarest wines. These were succeeded by dancers
conspicuous for their beauty, and much appreciated by Sethos, who could
not refrain from audible comments on their charms. Wrestlers also, and
tumblers of the other sex, relieved them at intervals; and if Sarchedon
in his heart more admired the upright forms and noble proportions of his
countrymen, he could not but admit that the pliancy of limb and subtle
dexterity of those Egyptians were beyond praise.
The sun had long set, and scores of lamps were flashing their radiance
over the revellers, ere a slow sad dirge swelled through the palace,
while an image of Osiris, swathed in mummy-clothes, and stretched
corpse-like on a bier, was borne to the feet of Pharaoh himself. Then
Phrenes, who, to his weightier avocations, added that of Master of the
Feast, raised his hands aloft for silence, and in the hush of voices
spoke that solemn warning with which it was the custom of Egypt to close
its richest entertainments:
"What is man? Nothing. What is life? Nothing. What is death? Nothing.
For we are born at an adventure; and when we go hence, it will be as
though we had never seen the day. Life, though short, is weary; death,
though unwelcome, is not to be escaped. Let us, then, enjoy the good
things that are present; let us comfort our hearts with wine, and
gladden our faces with oil, and crown our locks with flowers: for wine
hath lees and oil hath dregs, and ere set of sun the lotus herself shall
have faded and passed away. Let none go fasting to his bed, nor joyless
to his grave, because in sleep there is neither mirth nor mourning;
there is neither good nor evil in the tomb. What is man, then? Nothing.
But Pharaoh lives for ever!"
Then the strangers passed once more before the king, Sethos and
Sarchedon receiving each a costly present, the other Assyrians being
also gladdened with gifts according to their rank. It would have seemed
beneath the dignity of Pharaoh to hold converse with strangers in
person; but Phrenes, when he bade them farewell, took occasion to
enlarge on the power and riches of his own country, reminding the
visitors of its arts, its fertility, its resources in peace and war.
Lastly, retaining him for a moment behind his companions, he whispered
in Sarchedon's ear,
"Forget not how the captive in his dungeon found favour in the sight of
my lord the king. He bids you think of Pharaoh when you are exalted in
your own country, and above all, he warns you, despise not the wisdom of
the Egyptians."