Why should he wait?  Why should he not set his fortune on a cast?  He had three hundred soldiers with him, picked men and brave, children of the sea and the desert, sworn to his House and interests.  It was a time of festival, those gates were ill-guarded.  Why should he not force them at the dead of night, make his way to the palace, cause Pharaoh to be gathered to his fathers, and at the dawn discover himself seated upon Pharaoh’s throne?  At the thought of it Abi’s heart leapt in his breast, his wide nostrils spread themselves, and he erected his strong head as though already he felt upon it the weight of the double crown.  Then he turned and walked back to the pavilion.

“I am minded to strike a blow,” he said.  “Say now, my officer, would you and the soldiers follow me into the heart of yonder city to-night to win a throne—­or a grave?  If it were the first, you should be the general of all my army, and you, astrologer, should become vizier, yes, after Pharaoh you two should be the greatest men in all the land.”

They looked at him and gasped.

“A venturesome deed, Prince,” said the captain at length; “yet with such a prize to win I think that I would dare it, though for the soldiers I cannot speak.  First they must be told what is on foot, and out of so many, how know we that the heart of one or more would not fail?  A word from a traitor and before this time to-morrow the embalmers, or the jackals, would be busy.”

Abi heard and looked from him to his companion.

“Prince,” said Kaku, “put such thoughts from you.  Bury them deep.  Let them rise no more.  In the heavens I read something of this business, but then I did not understand, but now I see the black depths of hell opening beneath our feet.  Yes, hell would be our home if we dared to lift hand against the divine person of the Pharaoh.  I say that the gods themselves would fight against us.  Let it be, Prince, let it be, and you shall have many years of rule, who, if you strike now, will win nothing but a crown of shame, a nameless grave, and the everlasting torment of the damned.”

As he spoke Abi considered the man’s face and saw that all craft had left it.  This was no charlatan that spoke to him, but one in earnest who believed what he said.

“So be it,” he answered.  “I accept your judgment, and will wait upon my fortune.  Moreover, you are both right, the thing is too dangerous, and evil often falls on the heads of those who shoot arrows at a god, especially if they have not enough arrows.  Let Pharaoh live on while I make ready.  Perhaps to-morrow I may work upon him to name me his heir.”

The astrologer sighed in relief, nor did the captain seem disappointed.

“My head feels firmer on my shoulders than it did just now,” he said:  “and doubtless there are times when wisdom is better than valour.  Sleep well, Prince; Pharaoh will receive you to-morrow two hours after sunrise.  Have we your leave to retire?”