“That is his concern. He can come to me.”
“You never leave that sick girl, whose eyes are as sound as...”
“Hib!”
“For all I care she may have a cataract in both. May Phanes come to you this evening?”
“I wished to be alone with you.”
“So did I; but the Greek seems to be in a great hurry, and he knows nearly everything that I have to tell you.”
“Have you been gossiping then?”
“No—not exactly—but...”
“I always thought you were a man to be trusted.”
“So I was. But this Greek knows already a great deal of what I know, and the rest...”
“Well?”
“The rest he got out of me, I hardly know how myself. If I did not wear this amulet against an evil eye, I should have been obliged...”
“Yes, yes, I know the Athenian—I can forgive you. I should like him to come with you this evening. But I see the sun is already high in the heavens. I have no time to lose. Tell me in a few words what has happened.”
“I thought this evening...”
“No, I must have at least a general idea of what has happened before I see the Athenian. Be brief.”
“You have been robbed!”
“Is that all?”
“Is not that enough?”
“Answer me. Is that all?”
“Yes!”
“Then farewell.”
“But Nebenchari!”
The physician did not even hear this exclamation; the gates of the harem had already closed behind him.
When the Pleiades had risen, Nebenchari was to be found seated alone in one of the magnificent rooms assigned to his use on the eastern side of the palace, near to Kassandane’s apartments. The friendly manner in which he had welcomed his old servant had given place to the serious expression which his face usually wore, and which had led the cheerful Persians to call him a morose and gloomy man.
Nebenchari was an Egyptian priest through and through; a member of that caste which never indulged in a jest, and never for a moment forgot to be dignified and solemn before the public; but when among their relations and their colleagues completely threw off this self-imposed restraint, and gave way at times even to exuberant mirth.
Though he had known Phanes in Sais, he received him with cold politeness, and, after the first greeting was ended, told Hib to leave them alone.
“I have come to you,” said the Athenian, “to speak about some very important affairs.”
“With which I am already acquainted,” was the Egyptian’s curt reply.
“I am inclined to doubt that,” said Phanes with an incredulous smile.
“You have been driven out of Egypt, persecuted and insulted by Psamtik, and you have come to Persia to enlist Cambyses as an instrument of revenge against my country.”
“You are mistaken. I have nothing against your country, but all the more against Amasis and his house. In Egypt the state and the king are one, as you very well know.”
“On the contrary, my own observations have led me to think that the priests considered themselves one with the state.”
“In that case you are better informed than I, who have always looked on the kings of Egypt as absolute. So they are; but only in proportion as they know how to emancipate themselves from the influence of your caste.—Amasis himself submits to the priests now.”
“Strange intelligence!”
“With which, however, you have already long been made acquainted.”
“Is that your opinion?”
“Certainly it is. And I know with still greater certainty that once—you hear me—once, he succeeded in bending the will of these rulers of his to his own.”
“I very seldom hear news from home, and do not understand what you are speaking of.”
“There I believe you, for if you knew what I meant and could stand there quietly without clenching your fist, you would be no better than a dog who only whimpers when he’s kicked and licks the hand that torments him.”
The physician turned pale. “I know that Amasis has injured and insulted me,” he said, “but at the same time I must tell you that revenge is far too sweet a morsel to be shared with a stranger.”
“Well said! As to my own revenge, however, I can only compare it to a vineyard where the grapes are so plentiful, that I am not able to gather them all myself.”
“And you have come hither to hire good laborers.”
“Quite right, and I do not even yet give up the hope of securing you to take a share in my vintage.”
“You are mistaken. My work is already done. The gods themselves have taken it in hand. Amasis has been severely enough punished for banishing me from country, friends and pupils into this unclean land.”
“You mean by his blindness perhaps?”
“Possibly.”
“Then you have not heard that Petammon, one of your colleagues, has succeeded in cutting the skin, which covered the pupil of the eye and so restoring Amasis’ sight?”
The Egyptian started and ground his teeth; recovered his presence of mind, however, in a moment, and answered: “Then the gods have punished the father through the children.”
“In what way? Psamtik suits his father’s present mood very well. It is true that Tachot is ill, but she prays and sacrifices with her father all the more for that; and as to Nitetis, you and I both know that her death will not touch him very closely.”
“I really do not understand you.”
“Of course not, so long as you fancy that I believe your beautiful patient to be Amasis’ daughter.”
The Egyptian started again, but Phanes went on without appearing to notice his emotion: “I know more than you suppose. Nitetis is the daughter of Hophra, Amasis’ dethroned predecessor. Amasis brought her up as his own child-first, in order to make the Egyptians believe that Hophra had died childless; secondly, in order to deprive her of her rights to the throne; for you know women are allowed to govern on the Nile.”
“These are mere suppositions.”
“For which, however, I can bring irrefragable proofs. Among the papers which your old servant Hib brought with him in a small box, there must be some letters from a certain Sonnophre, a celebrated accoucheur, your own father, which...”
[To judge from the pictures on the monuments and from the 1st Chap.
of Exodus, it would seem that in ancient, as in modern Egypt,
midwives were usually called in to assist at the birth of children;
but it is also certain, that in difficult cases physicians were
employed also. In the hieratic medical papyrus in Berlin, women are
often spoken of as assisting at such times. In the medical Papyrus
Ebers certain portions are devoted to diseases peculiar to women.
“There were special rooms set aside in private houses for the birth