Part 22 (1/2)
”Produce your witnesses.”
Two or three archers belonging to the force that had guarded the working gang of Israelites here stepped forward, and with them, to the prisoner's consternation, the younger son of Sadoc--that fragile boy, in whose defence he had brought down the wrath of Egypt on his own head.
The poor youth had been on horseback since nightfall. Unaccustomed, like his nation in general, to the exercise of riding, he was a pitiable object of soreness, fatigue, perplexity, and alarm. The archers gave their evidence clearly enough. It amounted to little more than the bare facts of the case. Then they dragged the young Israelite into the terrible presence of Pharaoh, pale and faint with mortal fear.
”What needs all this weight of testimony?” exclaimed the prisoner in a loud bold voice. ”It is but heaping weariness and vexation on the head of my lord the king. I deny that I have urged a nation to rebel against its rulers. I admit that I opposed by force the violence that would have scourged a helpless child lying in the dust. If this be deadly crime by the laws of Egypt, would that we had given you a milder code when the children of Ashur came of late to seek you with bow and spear. I have spoken. My life is in Pharaoh's hands. Let him take it how and when he will.”
The king looked round on his captains and counsellors with a pa.s.sing gleam of animation in his eyes.
”This is a bold fellow,” said he. ”Which of you would dare speak thus, while looking death in the face so close?”
n.o.body answered; but a murmur went round the circle, to the effect that ”Pharaoh lived for ever!”
The king turned to a venerable man who, with the exception of that indispensable official the fan-bearer, stood nearest the throne, and asked him,
”Have these sons of shepherds been numbered according to the royal decree?”
”The king hath spoken,” was the subservient reply, while with a low obeisance a roll of papyrus was laid at the royal feet.
The fan-bearer handed it to his lord, who scanned it with an angry frown. ”So many!” muttered Pharaoh; ”and so poor a tale of work!
Increasing, multiplying, swarming over the land, while they lay it waste like locusts! Sleeping more than they labour, devouring more than they produce, h.o.a.rding substance, no doubt, and having children at their desire. Is Pharaoh's arm shortened, or has my hand waxed faint? I must take order with this sc.u.m of nations, lest at last they outnumber us, spreading through the land to eat it away like a sore. I have reached to them the sceptre of my protection; it is time they should feel the edge of my wrath!”
Round the king's neck hung a small image in gold of Thmei, G.o.ddess of Truth, corresponding in every respect with the statue that towered above his throne. A similar ornament glittered on the breast of the old man whom he addressed, denoting the regent of his kingdom, a magnate second only in power to Pharaoh himself. When such an official possessed the wisdom and courage to oppose the royal decree, for the king's own welfare and that of his people, his granaries were full, his subjects prospered, and, to use their own expression, ”the land sung for joy.”
Too often, however, he was only the echo of his lord.
”The breath of Pharaoh's nostrils shall consume them,” was his answer to the king's outbreak, ”even as the wind sweepeth a plague of locusts into the sea.”
Again the evil smile pa.s.sed across that weary sallow face. Sensual, selfish, and indolent as was the great ruler of the South, he had yet the political wisdom that foresees a crisis, the subtlety that prevents it, and the resolution that opposes it when it comes. His smile, while it boded no good to the children of Israel, indicated at the same time that he considered his regent an imbecile old man. The facts of the case now laid before him had been detailed to his private ear long before he ascended the judgment-seat, and had been discussed with one of his confidential advisers; a magician of no mean repute, whose keen intellect and scientific knowledge influenced his lord no less than did the startling resources of his art.
This trusted counsellor had pointed out to Pharaoh the impolicy of permitting one of the a.s.syrian nation to remain amongst a people--situated in their very midst--whose increasing prosperity tyranny and oppression seemed powerless to keep down; and the king recognised in the bold out-spoken prisoner now before him such a leader as the Israelites might be glad to obey, should they determine on a general rising to cast off the Egyptian yoke. True, they had neither arms nor horses nor war-chariots of iron; but they were formidable nevertheless in their numbers, their organisation, and their dogged persistence in some strange inscrutable belief. Pharaoh resolved to find out more of this stranger from the enemy's country ere he let him slip through his grasp either by acquittal or condemnation to death.
a.s.suming, therefore, an air of rigid impartiality, the king turned to the Israelitish lad, whose terror caused him, as it were, to wither and shrink under the royal eye.
”You have resisted authority,” said Pharaoh, ”and created a tumult; but you are young, and the king is merciful. Take him back to his dwelling-place,” he added sternly to the archers; ”scourge him, and let him go.”
Then, while the lad, more dead than alive--dreading, perhaps, his weary ride homeward fully as much as the subsequent punishment--was led away between two bowmen, the king once more addressed himself to Sarchedon,
”a.s.syrian,” said he, ”your crime, according to our law, must be punished by impalement. Nevertheless, while I inquire farther into your case, I grant you a few days' respite before you die. Remove him, and put him in safe ward. Pharaoh has spoken.”
The deep response, ”Pharaoh lives for ever!” rose from every quarter of the court, and Sarchedon was hurried out of the royal presence, even as a ragged old peasant hobbled into it to demand justice on his neighbour, who had robbed him of a string of onions and a half-emptied gourd.
CHAPTER XXIV
THE CAPTIVE IN THE DUNGEON
A certain rough sympathy for his impending fate seemed elicited from his guards, as they forced Sarchedon through the palace, down a dark pa.s.sage, bricked and vaulted, that led to some remote place of security, unvisited by the light of day.
”You should have held your peace, man,” said one, easing a little the belt that bound the prisoner's arms. ”To bandy words with Pharaoh is to throw scalding broth in the air, and stand under where it falls. Had you feigned to be stricken dumb with fear, now, not daring to raise your eyes in the face of my lord the king, you might have escaped with the loss of your nose and tenscore stripes on the soles of your feet. But that long tongue of yours has made it a hanging matter, believe me, no less, if not impalement, which is worse.”