All these and other things I did, but I did them as a man without a soul—­as a man moved by a force from without and not from within.  And so the minutes wore away.  In the third hour of the afternoon I went as by appointment fixed to the house where my uncle Sepa lodged, that same house to which I had been brought some three months gone when I entered Alexandria for the first time.  And here I found the leaders of the revolt in the city assembled in secret conclave to the number of seven.  When I had entered, and the doors were barred, they prostrated themselves, and cried, “Hail, Pharaoh!” but I bade them rise, saying that I was not yet Pharaoh, for the chicken was still in the egg.

“Yea, Prince,” said my uncle, “but his beak shows through.  Not in vain hath Egypt brooded all these years, if thou fail not with that dagger-stroke of thine to-night; and how canst thou fail?  Nothing can now stop our course to victory!”

“It is on the knees of the Gods,” I answered.

“Nay,” he said, “the Gods have placed the issue in the hands of a mortal—­in thy hands, Harmachis!—­and there it is safe.  See:  here are the last lists.  Thirty-one thousand men who bear arms are sworn to rise when the tidings come to them.  Within five days every citadel in Egypt will be in our hands, and then what have we to fear?  From Rome but little, for her hands are full; and, besides, we will make alliance with the Triumvirate, and, if need be, buy them off.  For of money there is plenty in the land, and if more be wanted thou, Harmachis, knowest where it is stored against the need of Khem, and outside the Roman’s reach of arm.  Who is there to harm us?  There is none.  Perchance, in this turbulent city, there may be struggle, and a counter-plot to bring Arsinoe to Egypt and set her on the throne.  Therefore Alexandria must be severely dealt with—­ay, even to destruction, if need be.  As for Arsinoe, those go forth to-morrow on the news of the Queen’s death who shall slay her secretly.”

“There remains the lad Caesarion,” I said.  “Rome might claim through Caesar’s son, and the child of Cleopatra inherits Cleopatra’s rights.  Here is a double danger.”

“Fear not,” said my uncle; “to-morrow Caesarion joins those who begat him in Amenti.  I have made provision.  The Ptolemies must be stamped out, so that no shoot shall ever spring from that root blasted by Heaven’s vengeance.”

“Is there no other means?” I asked sadly.  “My heart is sick at the promise of this red rain of blood.  I know the child well; he has Cleopatra’s fire and beauty and great Caesar’s wit.  It were shame to murder him.”

“Nay, be not so chicken-hearted, Harmachis,” said my uncle, sternly.  “What ails thee, then?  If the lad is thus, the more reason that he should die.  Wouldst thou nurse up a young lion to tear thee from the throne?”

“Be it so,” I answered, sighing.  “At least he is spared much, and will go hence innocent of evil.  Now for the plans.”