“Come thou and be my mercenary, Ta-user,” Masanath said with impulsive gratitude.  “Rameses hath lost and demands restitution beyond reason.”

Har-hat had risen the instant the words had passed the prince’s lips and left the group.  He did not wish to let his face be seen.  A dash of dark color grew in the heir’s pallid cheeks, partly because he knew he had been heard, partly because he was angry at the princess’ interruption.

“Strange,” mused Menes once again, “that the phrases of war mark the babble of even the maidens these days.  And half the revels end in quarrels.  Though I be young in war experience, I would say the omens point to conflict in which Egypt shall be embroiled.”

“Aye, Menes; and perchance thou wilt be measuring swords with a Hebrew ere the summer is old,” Siptah said, speaking for the first time.

“Matching thy good saber-metal with a trowel or a hay-fork, Menes,” Rameses sneered.

“Hold, thou doughty pride of the battling gods!” Menes cried laughingly to Rameses.  “For once, I scout thy prophecies.  The Hebrews are stirred up beyond any settling, save thou dost put them all to the sword, and that is a task that I would go to Tuat to escape.  Thou wilt not work the Israelite to death.  I can tell thee that!”

“Hast caught the infectious terror of the infant-scaring, bugbear Hebrew?” Rameses asked.

Menes leaned against the nearest knee and smiled lazily.

“If the gray-beard sorcerer did meet me in open field, protected only with bull-hide and armed with a spear, I would fight him till he said ‘enough’; but who wants to go against an incantation that would mow down an army at the muttering?  Not I; yea, Rameses, I am a craven in battle with a sorcerer.”

“If he means to blast us, wherefore hath he not spoken the cabalistic word ere this?” the prince demanded.

“He had no personal provocation until late,” the captain replied.

“Hath the taskmaster set him to making brick?” the prince laughed.

“Nay; but the priesthood plotted against his head, and he is angry.”

Rameses raised himself and looked fixedly at the soldier.  Again Menes laughed.

“Spare me, my Prince!  It is no longer a state secret.  It is out and over all Egypt.  Why it came not to thine ears I know not.  Perchance every one is afraid to gossip to thee save mine unabashed self.”

“Waster of the air!” Rameses exclaimed.  “What meanest thou?”

“It seems that the older priests have a hieratic grudge against the Israelite, and when he returned into Egypt they set themselves, with much bustle, importance and method to silence him.  Hither and thither they sent for advice, permission and aid, till all the wheels of the hierarchy were in motion, and the air quivered with portent and intent.  Vain ado!  Superfluous preparation!  The very letter which gave them explicit and formal permission to begin to get ready to commence to put away the Hebrew, fell—­by the mischievous Hathors!—­fell into the hands of the victim himself!”