Part 6 (2/2)

The task being finished, the prince walked down to the beach to inspect the timber, and he called to Wenamon to come with him. When the Egyptian had approached, the prince pointed to the logs, remarking that the work had been carried through although the remuneration had not been nearly so great as that which his fathers had received. Wenamon was about to reply when inadvertently the shadow of the prince's umbrella fell upon his head. What memories or antic.i.p.ations this trivial incident aroused one cannot now tell with certainty. One of the gentlemen-in-waiting, however, found cause in it to whisper to Wenamon, ”The shadow of Pharaoh, your lord, falls upon you”--the remark, no doubt, being accompanied by a sly dig in the ribs. The prince angrily snapped, ”Let him alone”; and, with the picture of Wenamon gloomily staring out to sea, we are left to worry out the meaning of the occurrence. It may be that the prince intended to keep Wenamon at Byblos until the uttermost farthing had been extracted from Egypt in further payment for the wood, and that therefore he was to be regarded henceforth as Wenamon's king and master. This is perhaps indicated by the following remarks of the prince.

”Do not thus contemplate the terrors of the sea,” he said to Wenamon.

”For if you do that you should also contemplate my own. Come, I have not done to you what they did to certain former envoys. They spent seventeen years in this land, and they died where they were.” Then, turning to an attendant, ”Take him,” he said, ”and let him see the tomb in which they lie.”

”Oh, don't let me see it,” Wenamon tells us that he cried in anguish; but, recovering his composure, he continued in a more valiant strain.

”Mere human beings,” he said, ”were the envoys who were then sent.

There was no G.o.d among them (as there now is).”

The prince had recently ordered an engraver to write a commemorative inscription upon a stone tablet recording the fact that the king of the G.o.ds had sent Amon-of-the-Road to Byblos as his divine messenger and Wenamon as his human messenger, that timber had been asked for and supplied, and that in return Amon had promised him ten thousand years of celestial life over and above that of ordinary persons. Wenamon now reminded him of this, asking him why he should talk so slightingly of the Egyptian envoys when the making of this tablet showed that in reality he considered their presence an honour. Moreover, he pointed out that when in future years an envoy from Egypt should read this tablet, he would of course p.r.o.nounce at once the magical prayers which would procure for the prince, who would probably then be in h.e.l.l after all, a draught of water. This remark seems to have tickled the prince's fancy, for he gravely acknowledged its value, and spoke no more in his former strain. Wenamon closed the interview by promising that the High Priest of Amon-Ra would fully reward him for his various kindnesses.

Shortly after this the Egyptian paid another visit to the sea-sh.o.r.e to feast his eyes upon the logs. He must have been almost unable to contain himself in the delight and excitement of the ending of his task and his approaching return, in triumph to Egypt; and we may see him jauntily walking over the sand, perhaps humming a tune to himself. Suddenly he observed a fleet of eleven s.h.i.+ps sailing towards the town, and the song must have died upon his lips. As they drew nearer he saw to his horror that they belonged to the Sicilians of Dor, and we must picture him biting his nails in his anxiety as he stood amongst the logs. Presently they were within hailing distance, and some one called to them asking their business. The reply rang across the water, brief and terrible; ”Arrest Wenamon! Let not a s.h.i.+p of his pa.s.s to Egypt.” Hearing these words the envoy of Amon-Ra, king of the G.o.ds, just now so proudly boasting, threw himself upon the sand and burst into tears.

The sobs of the wretched man penetrated to a chamber in which the prince's secretary sat writing at the open window, and he hurried over to the prostrate figure. ”Whatever is the matter with you?” he said, tapping the man on the shoulder.

Wenamon raised his head, ”Surely you see these birds which descend on Egypt,” he groaned. ”Look at them! They have come into the harbour, and how long shall I be left forsaken here? Truly you see those who have come to arrest me.”

With these words one must suppose that Wenamon returned to his weeping, for he says in his report that the sympathetic secretary went off to find the prince in order that some plan of action might be formulated. When the news was reported to Zakar-Baal, he too began to lament; for the whole affair was menacing and ugly. Looking out of the window he saw the Sicilian s.h.i.+ps anch.o.r.ed as a barrier across the mouth of the harbour, he saw the logs of cedar-wood strewn over the beach, he saw the writhing figure of Wenamon pouring sand and dust upon his head and drumming feebly with his toes; and his royal heart was moved with pity for the misfortunes of the Egyptian.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PL. XIII. A festival scene of singers and dancers from a tomb-painting of Dynasty XVII.

--THEBES]

[_Copied by H. Petrie._

Hastily speaking to his secretary, he told him to procure two large jars of wine and a ram, and to give them to Wenamon on the chance that they might stop the noise of his lamentations. The secretary and his servants procured these things from the kitchen, and, tottering down with them to the envoy, placed them by his side. Wenamon, however, merely glanced at them in a sickly manner, and then buried his head once more. The failure must have been observed from the window of the palace, for the prince sent another servant flying off for a popular Egyptian lady of no reputation, who happened to be living just then at Byblos in the capacity of a dancing-girl. Presently she minced into the room, very much elated, no doubt, at this indication of the royal favour. The prince at once ordered her to hasten down on to the beach to comfort her countryman. ”Sing to him,” he said. ”Don't let his heart feel apprehension.”

Wenamon seemed to have waved the girl aside, and we may picture the prince making urgent signs to the lady from his window to renew her efforts. The moans of the miserable man, however, did not cease, and the prince had recourse to a third device. This time he sent a servant to Wenamon with a message of calm a.s.surance. ”Eat and drink,” he said, ”and let not your heart feel apprehension. You shall hear all that I have to say in the morning.” At this Wenamon roused himself, and, wiping his eyes, consented to be led back to his rooms, ever turning, no doubt, to cast nervous glances in the direction of the silent s.h.i.+ps of Dor.

On the following morning the prince sent for the leaders of the Sicilians and asked them for what reason they had come to Byblos. They replied that they had come in search of Wenamon, who had robbed some of their countrymen of thirty-one debens of silver. The prince was placed in a difficult position, for he was desirous to avoid giving offence either to Dor or to Egypt from whence he now expected further payment; but he managed to pa.s.s out on to clearer ground by means of a simple stratagem.

”I cannot arrest the envoy of Amon in my territory,” he said to the men of Dor. ”But I will send him away, and you shall pursue him and arrest him.”

The plan seems to have appealed to the sporting instincts of the Sicilians, for it appears that they drew off from the harbour to await their quarry. Wenamon was then informed of the scheme, and one may suppose that he showed no relish for it. To be chased across a bilious sea by sporting men of hardened stomach was surely a torture for the d.a.m.ned; but it is to be presumed that Zakar-Baal left the Egyptian some chance of escape. Hastily he was conveyed on board a s.h.i.+p, and his misery must have been complete when he observed that outside the harbour it was blowing a gale. Hardly had he set out into the ”Great Syrian Sea”

before a terrific storm burst, and in the confusion which ensued we lose sight of the waiting fleet. No doubt the Sicilians put in to Byblos once more for shelter, and deemed Wenamon at the bottom of the ocean as the wind whistled through their own bare rigging.

The Egyptian had planned to avoid his enemies by beating northwards when he left the harbour, instead of southwards towards Egypt; but the tempest took the s.h.i.+p's course into its own hands and drove the frail craft north-westwards towards Cyprus, the wooded sh.o.r.es of which were, in course of time, sighted. Wenamon was now indeed 'twixt the devil and the deep sea, for behind him the waves raged furiously, and before him he perceived a threatening group of Cypriots awaiting him upon the wind-swept sh.o.r.e. Presently the vessel grounded upon the beach, and immediately the ill-starred Egyptian and the entire crew were prisoners in the hands of a hostile mob. Roughly they were dragged to the capital of the island, which happened to be but a few miles distant, and with ignominy they were hustled, wet and bedraggled, through the streets towards the palace of Hetebe, the Queen of Cyprus.

As they neared the building the queen herself pa.s.sed by, surrounded by a brave company of n.o.bles and soldiers. Wenamon burst away from his captors, and bowed himself before the royal lady, crying as he did so, ”Surely there is somebody amongst this company who understands Egyptian.” One of the n.o.bles, to Wenamon's joy, replied, ”Yes, I understand it.”

”Say to my mistress,” cried the tattered envoy, ”that I have heard even in far-off Thebes, the abode of Amon, that in every city injustice is done, but that justice obtains in the land of Cyprus. Yet see, injustice is done here also this day.”

This was repeated to the queen, who replied, ”Indeed!--what is this that you say?”

Through the interpreter Wenamon then addressed himself to Hetebe. ”If the sea raged,” he said, ”and the wind drove me to the land where I now am, will you let these people take advantage of it to murder me, I who am an envoy of Amon? I am one for whom they will seek unceasingly. And as for these sailors of the prince of Byblos, whom they also wish to kill, their lord will undoubtedly capture ten crews of yours, and will slay every man of them in revenge.”

This seems to have impressed the queen, for she ordered the mob to stand on one side, and to Wenamon she said, ”Pa.s.s the night ...”

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