"The priests! What priests?"
"The most worthy Herhor, the most worthy Mefres. They said that it must be so, that thy son would become the first king of the Jews."
"The priests? Mefres?" repeated the prince. "King of the Jews? But I have told thee that thy son would become the chief of my archers, my secretary. I told thee this, and thou, wretched woman, didst think that the title of king of the Jews was equal to that of my secretary and archer. Mefres Herhor! Thanks to the gods that at last I understand those dignitaries and know what fate they are preparing for my descendants."
He thought awhile, gnawing his lips. Suddenly he called with a powerful voice,
"Hei, servants, warriors!"
The room was filled in the twinkle of an eye. Sarah's serving-women came in, the scribe and manager of the house, then the slaves; finally, a few warriors with an officer.
"Death!" cried Sarah, with a piercing voice.
She rushed to the cradle, seized her son, and, standing in the corner of the room, called out,
"Kill me; but I will not yield my son!"
Ramses smiled.