Chapter 20

About nine in the evening Phut left the inn "Under the Ship" in company with a negro who carried a torch. Half an hour earlier Asarhadon sent out a confidential servant, commanding him to observe carefully if the guest from Harran left the house of the "Green Star," and if so to follow him.

A second confidential servant went at a certain distance behind Phut; in the narrower streets he hid among the houses, on the broader ones he feigned drunkenness.

The streets were empty; carriers and hucksters were sleeping. There was light only in the houses of artisans who were at work, or in those of rich people who were feasting on the terraces. In various houses were heard the sounds of harps and flutes, songs, laughter, the blows of hammers, the sound of saws in the hands of cabinet makers; at times the cry of a drunken man, or a call for assistance.

The streets along which Phut and the slave passed were narrow for the greater part, crooked and full of holes. As they approached the end of the journey, the stone houses were lower and lower, those of one story more frequent, and there were more gardens, or rather palms, fig-trees, and stunted acacias, which, inclining out from between the walls, seemed to have the intention to escape from their places. On the Street of Tombs the view changed on a sudden. In place of stone buildings there were broad gardens, and in the middle of them splendid villas. The negro stopped before one of the gates and quenched his torch.

"Here is the 'Green Star,'" said he, and, making a low bow to Phut, he turned homeward.

The man of Harran knocked at the gate. After a while the gatekeeper appeared. He looked attentively at the stranger, and muttered,

"Anael, Sachiel."

"Amabiel, Abalidot," answered Phut.

"Be greeted," said the gatekeeper; and he opened quickly to the visitor.

When he had passed some tens of steps between trees, Phut found himself in the antechamber of the villa, where the priestess whom he knew greeted him. Farther in stood some man with black beard and hair; so much like the man of Harran was he, that Phut could not hide his astonishment.

"He will take thy place in the eyes of those who are spying thee," said the priestess, smiling.

The man who was disguised as Phut put a garland of roses on his head, and in company with the priestess went to the first story, where the sound of flutes and the clatter of goblets were heard soon after. Meanwhile two inferior priests conducted Phut to a bath in the garden. After the bath they curled his hair and put white robes on him.

From the bath all three went out again among the trees, passed a number of gardens, and found themselves in an empty space finally.

"There," said one of the priests, "are the ancient tombs; on that side is the city, and here the temple. Go whithersoever Thou wishest. May wisdom point out the road to thee, and sacred words guard thee from perils."

The two priests went back to the garden, and Phut was in solitude. The moonless night was rather clear. From afar, covered with mist, glittered the Nile; higher up gleamed the seven stars of the Great Bear. Over the head of the stranger was Orion, and above the dark pylons flamed the star Sirius.

"The stars shine in our land more brightly," thought Phut.

He began to whisper prayers in an unknown tongue, and turned toward the temple.

When he had gone a number of steps, from one of the gardens a man pushed out and followed him. But almost at that very moment such a thick fog fell on the place that it was quite impossible to see aught save the roofs of the temple.

After a certain time the man of Harran came to a high wall. He looked up at the sky and began to go westward. From moment to moment night birds and great bats flew above him.

The mist had become so dense that he was forced to touch the wall so as not to lose it. The journey had lasted rather long when all at once Phut found himself before a low door with a multitude of bronze nail heads. He fell to counting these from the left side on the top; at the same time he pressed some of them powerfully, others he turned.

When he had pressed the last nail at the bottom, the door opened. The man of Harran advanced a few steps, and found himself in a narrow niche where there was utter darkness.

He tried the ground carefully with his foot till he struck upon something like the brink of a well from which issued coolness. He sat down then and slipped fearlessly into the abyss, though he found himself in that place and in Egypt for the first time.

The opening was not deep. Phut stood erect on a sloping pavement, and began to descend along a narrow corridor with as much confidence as if he had known the passage for a lifetime.

At the end of the corridor was a door. By groping the stranger found a knocker, and struck three times with it. In answer came a voice, it was unknown from what direction.

"Hast thou, who art disturbing in a night hour the peace of a holy place, the right to enter?"

"I have done no wrong to man, child, or woman. Blood has not stained my hands. I have eaten no unclean food. I have not taken another's property. I have not lied. I have not betrayed the great secret," answered the man of Harran, calmly.

"Art Thou he for whom we are waiting, or he who in public Thou declarest thyself to be?" inquired the voice, after a while.

"I am he who was to come from brethren in the East; but that other name is mine also, and in the northern city I possess a house and land, as I have told other persons."

The door opened, and Phut walked into a spacious cellar which was lighted by a lamp burning on a small table before a purple curtain. On the curtain was embroidered in gold a winged globe with two serpents.

At one side stood an Egyptian priest in a white robe.

"Dost them who hast entered," asked the priest, pointing at Phut, "know what this sign on the curtain signifies?"

"The globe," answered the stranger, "is an image of the world on which we live; the wings indicate that it is borne through space like an eagle."

"And the serpents?" asked the priest.

"The two serpents remind him who is wise that whoso betrays the great secret will die a double death, he will die soul and body."

After a moment of silence the priest continued,

"If Thou art in real fact Beroes" (here he inclined his head), "the great prophet of Chaldea" (he inclined his head a second time), "for whom there is no secret in heaven or on earth, be pleased to inform thy servant which star is the most wonderful."

"Wonderful is Hor-set, [Jupiter] which encircles heaven in the course of twelve years; for four smaller stars go around it. But the most wonderful is Horka, [Saturn] which encircles heaven in thirty years; for it has subject to it not only stars, but a great ring which vanishes sometimes."

On hearing this, the Egyptian priest prostrated himself before the Chaldean. Then he gave him a purple scarf and a muslin veil, indicated where the incense was, and left the cave with low obeisances.

The Chaldean remained alone. He put the scarf on his right shoulder, covered his face with the veil, and, taking a golden spoon sprinkled into it incense, which he lighted at the lamp before the curtain. Whispering, he turned three times in a circle, and the smoke of the incense surrounded him with a triple ring, as it were.

During this time a wonderful disturbance prevailed in the cave. It seemed as if the top were rising and the sides spreading out. The t purple curtain at the altar quivered, as if moved by hidden fingers. The air began to move in waves, as if flocks of unseen birds were flying through it.

The Chaldean opened the robe on his bosom, and drew forth a gold medal covered with mysterious characters. The cave trembled, the sacred curtain moved with violence, and little flames appeared in space at various points.

Then the seer raised his hands and began,

"Heavenly Father, gracious and merciful, purify my spirit. Send down on Thy unworthy servant a blessing, and extend Thy almighty arm against rebellious spirits, so that I may manifest Thy power.

"Here is the sign which I touch in thy presence. Here I am I, leaning on the assistance of that God, the foreseeing and the fearless. I am mighty, and summon and conjure thee. Come hither with obedience in the name of Aye, Saraye, Aye Saraye!"

At that moment from various sides were heard voices as of distant trumpets. Near the lamp some bird flew past, then a robe of ruddy color, afterward a man with a tail, finally a crowned cock which stood on the table before the curtain.

The Chaldean spoke again, f

"In the name of the Almighty and Eternal Amorul, Tanecha, Rabur, Latisten."

Distant sounds of trumpets were heard for a second time.

"In the name of the just and ever-living Eloy, Archima, Rabu, I conjure and summon thee. In the name of the star, which is the sun, by this its sign, by the glorious and awful name of the living God."

The trumpets sounded again, and stopped on a sudden. Before the altar appeared a crowned vision with a scepter in its hand, and sitting on a lion.

"Beroes! Beroes!" cried the vision, with a restrained voice. "Why dost Thou summon me?"

"I wish my brethren of this temple to receive me with sincere hearts, and incline their ears to the words which I bring them from brethren in Babylon," said the Chaldean.

"Be it so," said the vision, and vanished.

The Chaldean stood as motionless as a statue, with his head thrown back, with hands lifted upward. He stood thus half an hour in a position impossible for an ordinary person.

During this time a part of the wall which formed one side of the cave pushed back, and three Egyptian priests entered. At sight of the Chaldean, who seemed to lie in the air, resting his shoulders on an invisible support, the priests looked at one another with amazement. The eldest said,

"Long ago there were men like this among us, but no one has such power in our day."

They walked around him on all sides, touched his stiffened members, and looked with fear at his face, which was bloodless and sallow, like that of a corpse.

"Is he dead?" asked the youngest.

After these words the body of the Chaldean, which had been bent backward, returned to a perpendicular position. On his face appeared a slight flush, and his upraised hands dropped. He sighed, rubbed his eyes like a man roused from sleep, looked at the priests, and said after a while, turning to the eldest,

"Thou art Mefres, high priest of the temple of Ptah in Memphis. Thou art Herhor, high priest of Amon in Thebes, the first dignity in this state after the pharaoh. Thou," he indicated the youngest, "art Pentuer, the second prophet in the temple of Amon, and the adviser of Herhor."

"Thou art undoubtedly Beroes, the high priest and sage of Babylon, whose coming was announced to us a year ago," answered Mefres.

"Thou hast told truth," said the Chaldean.

He embraced them in turn, and they inclined before him.

"I bring you great words from our common fatherland, which is Wisdom," said Beroes. "Be pleased to listen and act as is needful."

At a sign from Herhor, Pentuer withdrew to the rear of the cave and brought out three armchairs of light wood for his superiors, and a low stool for his own use. He seated himself near the lamp, and took from his bosom a small dagger and wax-covered tablets.

When all three had occupied their chairs, the Chaldean began,

"Mefres, the highest college of priests in Babylon addresses thee: 'The sacred order of priests in Egypt is falling. Many priests collect money and women, and pass their lives amid pleasure. Wisdom is neglected. Ye have no power over the world, which is invisible. Ye have no power over your own souls. Some of you have lost the highest faith, and the future is concealed from you. Things worse than this even happen; for many priests, feeling that their spiritual power is exhausted, have entered the way of falsehood and deceive simple people by cunning devices.'

"The highest college says this: 'If ye wish to return to the good road, Beroes will remain some years with you, so as to rouse true light on the Nile by the aid of a spark brought from the high altar of Babylon.'."

"All is as Thou sayest," answered Mefres, confused. "Remain with us therefore a number of years, so that the youth growing up at present may remember thy wisdom."

"And now, Herhor, to thee come words from the highest college."

Herhor inclined his head.

"Because ye neglect the great secrets, your priests have not noted that evil years are approaching Egypt. Ye are threatened by internal disasters from which only virtue and wisdom can save you. But the worst is that if in the course of the coming decade ye begin war with Assyria, she will defeat your forces. Her armies will come to the Nile and destroy all that has existed here for ages.

"Such an ominous juncture of stars as is now weighing on Egypt happened first during the XIV. dynasty, when the Hyksos kings captured and plundered this country. It will come for the third time in five or six hundred years from Assyria and the people of Paras, who dwell to the east of Chaldea."

The priests listened in terror. Herhor was pale; the tablets fell from Pentuer's fingers; Mefres held the amulet hanging on his breast, and prayed while his lips were parching.

"Be on your guard then against Assyria," continued the Chaldean, "for her hour is the present. The Assyrians are a dreadful people! They despise labor, they live by war. They conquer, they impale on stakes or flay living people, they destroy captured cities and lead away their inhabitants to bondage. For them to kill savage beasts is repose; to pierce prisoners with arrows or scoop out their eyes is amusement. Temples they turn into ruins, the vessels of the gods they use at their banquets, and make buffoons of priests and sages. They adorn their walls with skins torn from living people, and their tables with the blood-stained skulls of their enemies."

When the Chaldean ceased speaking, the worthy Mefres answered,

"Great prophet, Thou hast cast fear on our souls, and dost not indicate a remedy. It may be true, and to a certainty is so, since Thou hast said it, that the fates for a certain time will be against us, but how avoid this predicament? In the Nile there are dangerous places through which no boat can pass safely; so the wisdom of the helmsmen avoids deadly whirlpools. It is the same with misfortunes of nations. A nation is a boat, and an epoch is the river, which at certain periods has whirlpools. If the frail boat of a fisherman can avoid peril, why should not millions of people escape under similar conditions?"

"Thy words are wise," replied Beroes, "but I can answer in part only."

"Dost Thou not know all that will happen?" asked Herhor.

"Ask me not touching that which I know, but which I may not disclose at this moment. Most important in your case is to keep peace for ten years with Assyria. Ye have power to do that. Assyria still dreads you; she knows not the juncture of evil fates above Egypt, and desires to wage war with northern and eastern nations who live near the seacoast. Ye might, therefore, conclude a treaty today with Assyria."

"On what conditions?" asked Herhor.

"On very good ones. Assyria will yield to you the land of Israel as far as the city of Akko, and the land of Edom to the city of Elath. So your boundaries will be advanced ten days march toward the north without war, and ten days toward the east also."

"But Phoenicia?" inquired Herhor.

"Approach not temptation!" exclaimed Beroes. "If the pharaoh were to stretch his hand today toward Phoenicia, in a month Assyrian armies intended for the north and east would turn southward, and a year hence or earlier their horses would be swimming in your sacred river."

"Egypt cannot renounce influence over Phoenicia," interrupted Herhor, with an outburst.

"Should she not renounce she would prepare her own ruin," said the Chaldean. "Moreover, I repeat the words of the highest college: 'Tell Egypt,' declared the brothers in Babylon, 'to cower to the earth for ten years, like a partridge, for the falcon of evil fate is watching her. Tell her that we Chaldeans hate Assyria more than do the Egyptians, for we endure the burden of its rule; but still we recommend to the Egyptians peace with that bloodthirsty nation. Ten years is a short period; after that not only can ye regain your ancient place, but ye can save us.'."

"That is true!" added Mefres.

"Only consider," continued the Chaldean, "should Assyria begin war with you, she would involve also Babylon, which hates warfare. War will exhaust our wealth and stop the labor of wisdom. Even were ye not defeated your country would be ruined for a long period. Ye would lose not only people, but the fertile soil, which would be buried by sand in the absence of earth-tillers."

"We understand that," replied Herhor; "hence we have no thought of attacking Assyria. But Phoenicia."

"What harm will it be to you," asked Beroes, "if the Assyrian robber squeezes the Phoenician thief? Your merchants and ours will gain by such action. But if ye want Phoenicians, let them settle on your shores. I am sure that the richest and most adroit of them would flee from Assyrian conquest."

"What would happen to our fleet, if the Assyrians settled in Phoenicia?" inquired Herhor.

"That is not your fleet, but the Phoenician," replied Beroes. "When Tyrian and Sidonian ships are lost to you, ye will build your own, and exercise Egyptians in navigation. If ye have mind and a practical character, ye will drive out Phoenician commerce from western regions."

Herhor waved his hand.

"I have told that which was commanded me," said Beroes, "and do ye that which pleaseth you. But remember that ten evil years are impending."

"It seems to me, holy father," said Pentuer, "that Thou didst speak of internal troubles which threaten Egypt in the future. What will they be, if it please thee to answer thy servant?"

"Do not ask. Those are things which ye ought to know better than I, who am a stranger. Clear sight will discover the disease, and experience will give the remedy."

"Our working people are terribly oppressed by the great," whispered Pentuer.

"Devotion has decreased," added Mefres.

"There are many who sigh for a foreign war," began Herhor. "I have seen this long time that we cannot carry on one, unless ten years hence."

"Then will ye conclude a treaty with Assyria?" inquired the Chaldean.

"Amon, who knows my heart," answered Herhor, "knows how repugnant that treaty is to me. It is not so long since those vile Assyrians paid us tribute. But if thou, holy father, and the highest college say that the fates are against us, we must make the treaty."

"We must indeed," added Mefres.

"In that case inform the priests in Babylon of your decision, and they will arrange that King Assar shall send an embassy to Egypt. This treaty, believe me, is of great advantage; without war ye will increase your possessions. Indeed our priesthood have given deep thought to this question."

"May all blessings fall on you, wealth, power, and wisdom," said Mefres. "Yes, we must raise our priestly order, and do thou, holy Beroes, assist us."

"There is need, above all, to assuage the suffering of the people." put in Pentuer.

"The priests! the people!" said Herhor, as if to himself. "Above all, it is needful in this case to restrain those who wish war. It is true that his holiness the pharaoh is with me, and I think I have gained influence over the heir, may he live through eternity! But Nitager, to whom war is as water to a fish; but the leaders of our mercenary forces, who only in war have significance; but our aristocracy, who think that war will pay Phoenician debts and give them property."

"Meanwhile earth-tillers are fainting beneath an avalanche of labor, and public workmen are revolting against demands of overseers," added Pentuer.

"He is always expressing his thought!" said Herhor, in meditation. "Think thou, Pentuer, of earth-tillers and laborers; thou, Mefres, of the priests. I know not what ye will effect, but I swear that if my own son favored war I would bind and destroy him."

"Act in this way," said Beroes, "let him carry on war who wishes, but not in those regions where he can meet Assyria."

With this the session ended. The Chaldean put his scarf on his shoulder and the veil on his face; Mefres and Herhor, one on each side of him, and behind him Pentuer, all turned toward the altar.

When Beroes had crossed his hands on his breast, he whispered, and again subterranean disturbance set in, and they heard as it were a distant uproar, which astonished the assistants.

"Baralanensis, Baldachiensis, Paumachiae," said the seer, aloud, "I summon thee to witness our stipulations and support our wishes."

The sound of trumpets was heard so distinctly that Mefres bowed to the earth, Herhor looked around in astonishment, while Pentuer knelt, fell to trembling, and covered his ears.

The purple curtain at the altar shook, and its folds took such a form as if a man were behind who wished to pass through it.

"Be witnesses," cried the Chaldean, in a changed voice, "ye powers above and ye powers beneath! And cursed be he who observes not this treaty or betrays its secret."

"Cursed!" repeated some voice.

"And destroyed!"

"And destroyed."

"In this visible and in that invisible life. By the ineffable name of Jehovah, at the sound of which the earth trembles, the sea draws back, fire quenches, and the elements of nature become evident."

A real tempest rose in the cave. The sound of trumpets was mingled with voices, as it were, of distant thunders.

The curtain of the altar rose almost horizontally, and behind it, amid glittering lightning, appeared wonderful creatures, half human, half plant and animal, crowded and mingled together.

Suddenly all was silent, and Beroes rose slowly in the air, higher than the heads of the priests there attending.

At eight o'clock next morning Phut of Harran returned to the Phoenician inn "Under the Ship" to which his bags and casket stolen by thieves had been returned safely. A few minutes later came Asarhadon's confidential servant, whom the innkeeper took to the cellar and examined briefly,

"Well?"

"I was all night on the square where the temple of Set is," answered the servant. "At ten in the evening out of the garden which lies about four places farther than the house of the 'Green Star,' came three priests. One of them, with black beard and hair, turned his steps through the square toward the temple of Set. I ran after him, but mist fell, and he vanished from my eyes. Whether he returned to the 'Green Star' or when, I know not."

The innkeeper, when he had heard this account, struck his forehead and muttered to himself,

"So my man from Harran, if he dresses as a priest and goes to a temple, must be a priest; and if he wears beard and hair, he must be a Chaldean priest. But if he meets priests here in secret, there must be some rogue's tricks. I will not tell the police, for I might be caught. But I will inform some great man from Sidon, for there may be profit in this, if not for me, for our people."

Soon the other messenger returned. Asarhadon went down to the cellar with this one also, and heard the following narrative,

"I stood all night in front of the 'Green Star.' The man of Harran was there; he got drunk and raised such shouts that the policeman warned the doorkeeper."

"Did he?" inquired the innkeeper. "The man of Harran was at the 'Green Star' all night, and Thou didst see him?"

"Not only I, but the policeman."

Asarhadon brought down the first servant, and commanded each to repeat his story. They repeated the stories faithfully, with the utmost conviction. It appeared then that Phut of Harran had remained all night at the "Green Star" without leaving the place for a moment; at the same time he went to the temple of Set, and did not return from it.

"Oh," muttered Asarhadon, "in all this there is some very great villainy. I must inform the elders of the Phoenician society, as quickly as possible, that this Hittite knows how to be in two places at once. I shall also beg him to move out of my inn. I do not take people who have two forms, one their own, the other in supply. For a man of that kind is a great criminal, a wizard, or a conspirator."

Asarhadon was afraid of such things; so he secured himself against enchantment by prayers to all the gods which adorned his inn. Then he hurried to the city, where he notified the elder of the Phoenician society and the elder of the guild of thieves of what had happened. Then, returning home, he summoned the decurion of police, and informed him that Phut might be a dangerous person. Finally he asked the man of Harran to leave the inn, to which he brought no profit, nothing but loss and suspicion.

Phut agreed to the proposition willingly, and informed the innkeeper that he intended to sail for Thebes that same evening.

"May Thou never return!" thought the hospitable host. "May Thou rot in the quarries, or fall into the river to be eaten by crocodiles."