Anana looked at the prince, dried his eyes quickly; and said:
“I was the ring-leader. Ameni will turn me out of the place, and I must return disgraced to my poor mother, who has no one in the world but me.”
“Poor fellow!” said Rameri kindly. “It was striking at random! If only our attempt had done Pentaur any good!”
“We have done him harm, on the contrary,” said Anana vehemently, “and have behaved like fools!” Rameri nodded in full assent, looked thoughtful for a moment, and then said:
“Do you know, Anana, that you were not the ringleader? The trick was planned in this crazy brain; I take the whole blame on my own shoulders. I am the son of Rameses, and Ameni will be less hard on me than on you.”
“He will examine us all,” replied Anana, “and I will be punished sooner than tell a lie.”
Rameri colored.
“Have you ever known my tongue sin against the lovely daughter of Ra?” he exclaimed. “But look here! did I stir up Antef, Hapi, Sent and all the others or no? Who but I advised you to find out Pentaur? Did I threaten to beg my father to take me from the school of Seti or not? I was the instigator of the mischief, I pulled the wires, and if we are questioned let me speak first. Not one of you is to mention Anana’s name; do you hear? not one of you, and if they flog us or deprive us of our food we all stick to this, that I was guilty of all the mischief.”
“You are a brave fellow!” said the son of the chief priest of Anion, shaking his right hand, while Anana held his left.
The prince freed himself laughing from their grasp.
“Now the old man may come home,” he exclaimed, “we are ready for him. But all the same I will ask my father to send me to Chennu, as sure as my name is Rameri, if they do not recall Pentaur.”
“He treated us like school-boys!” said the eldest of the young malefactors.
“And with reason,” replied Rameri, “I respect him all the more for it. You all think I am a careless dog—but I have my own ideas, and I will speak the words of wisdom.”
With these words he looked round on his companions with comical gravity, and continued—imitating Ameni’s manner:
“Great men are distinguished from little men by this—they scorn and contemn all which flatters their vanity, or seems to them for the moment desirable, or even useful, if it is not compatible with the laws which they recognize, or conducive to some great end which they have set before them; even though that end may not be reached till after their death.
“I have learned this, partly from my father, but partly I have thought it out for myself; and now I ask you, could Pentaur as ‘a great man’ have dealt with us better?”
“You have put into words exactly what I myself have thought ever since yesterday,” cried Anana. “We have behaved like babies, and instead of carrying our point we have brought ourselves and Pentaur into disgrace.”
The rattle of an approaching chariot was now audible, and Rameri exclaimed, interrupting Anana, “It is he. Courage, boys! I am the guilty one. He will not dare to have me thrashed—but he will stab me with looks!”
Ameni descended quickly from his chariot. The gate-keeper informed him that the chief of the kolchytes, and the inspector of victims from the temple of Anion, desired to speak with him.
“They must wait,” said the Prophet shortly. “Show them meanwhile into the garden pavilion. Where is the chief haruspex?”
He had hardly spoken when the vigorous old man for whom he was enquiring hurried to meet him, to make him acquainted with all that had occurred in his absence. But the high-priest had already heard in Thebes all that his colleague was anxious to tell him.
When Ameni was absent from the House of Seti, he caused accurate information to be brought to him every morning of what had taken place there.
Now when the old man began his story he interrupted him.
“I know everything,” he said. “The disciples cling to Pentaur, and have committed a folly for his sake, and you met the princess Bent-Anat with him in the temple of Hatasu, to which he had admitted a woman of low rank before she had been purified. These are grave matters, and must be seriously considered, but not to-day. Make yourself easy; Pentaur will not escape punishment; but for to-day we must recall him to this temple, for we have need of him to-morrow for the solemnity of the feast of the valley. No one shall meet him as an enemy till he is condemned; I desire this of you, and charge you to repeat it to the others.”
The haruspex endeavored to represent to his superior what a scandal would arise from this untimely clemency; but Ameni did not allow him to talk, he demanded his ring back, called a young priest, delivered the precious signet into his charge, and desired him to get into his chariot that was waiting at the door, and carry to Pentaur the command, in his name, to return to the temple of Seti.
The haruspex submitted, though deeply vexed, and asked whether the guilty boys were also to go unpunished.
“No more than Pentaur,” answered Ameni. “But can you call this school-boy’s trick guilt? Leave the children to their fun, and their imprudence. The educator is the destroyer, if he always and only keeps his eyes open, and cannot close them at the right moment. Before life demands of us the exercise of serious duties we have a mighty over-abundance of vigor at our disposal; the child exhausts it in play, and the boy in building wonder-castles with the hammer and chisel of his fancy, in inventing follies. You shake your head, Septah! but I tell you, the audacious tricks of the boy are the fore-runners of the deeds of the man. I shall let one only of the boys suffer for what is past, and I should let him even go unpunished if I had not other pressing reasons for keeping him away from our festival.”
The haruspex did not contradict his chief; for he knew that when Ameni’s eyes flashed so suddenly, and his demeanor, usually so measured, was as restless as at present, something serious was brewing.
The high-priest understood what was passing in Septah’s mind.
“You do not understand me now,” said he. “But this evening, at the meeting of the initiated, you shall know all. Great events are stirring. The brethren in the temple of Anion, on the other shore, have fallen off from what must always be the Holiest to us white-robed priests, and will stand in our way when the time for action is arrived. At the feast of the valley we shall stand in competition with the brethren from Thebes. All Thebes will be present at the solemn service, and it must be proved which knows how to serve the Divinity most worthily, they or we. We must avail ourselves of all our resources, and Pentaur we certainly cannot do without. He must fill the function of Cherheb94 for to-morrow only; the day after he must be brought to judgment. Among the rebellious boys are our best singers, and particularly young Anana, who leads the voices of the choir-boys.
“I will examine the silly fellows at once. Rameri—Rameses’ son—was among the young miscreants?”
“He seems to have been the ring-leader,” answered Septah.
Ameni looked at the old man with a significant smile, and said:
“The royal family are covering themselves with honor! His eldest daughter must be kept far from the temple and the gathering of the pious, as being unclean and refractory, and we shall be obliged to expel his son too from our college. You look horrified, but I say to you that the time for action is come. More of this, this evening. Now, one question: Has the news of the death of the ram of Anion reached you? Yes? Rameses himself presented him to the God, and they gave it his name. A bad omen.”
“And Apis too is dead!” The haruspex threw up his arms in lamentation.
“His Divine spirit has returned to God,” replied Ameni.