Unspeakable sadness and terror seized Ramses at this spectacle. Before his eyes flies began to circle; for the twinkle of an eye he lost consciousness; it seemed to him that he would have yielded his throne not to be at that place, and not to see what was going to happen. He hurried down from the cliff looking with wandering eyes straight out in front of him.
At that moment Pentuer approached and pulled him by the arm vigorously.
"Recover, leader," said he; "Patrokles is waiting for orders."
"Patrokles?" repeated the prince, and he looked around quickly.
Before him stood Pentuer, deathly pale, but collected. A couple of steps farther on was Tutmosis, also pale; in his trembling hand was an officer's whistle. From behind the hill bent forth soldiers, on whose faces deep emotion was evident.
"Ramses," repeated Pentuer, "the army is waiting."
The prince looked at the priest with desperate decision.
"Begin!" said he in a stifled whisper.
Pentuer raised his glittering talisman, and made some signs in the air with it. Tutmosis gave a low whistle; that whistle was repeated in distant ravines on the right and the left. Egyptian slingers began to climb up the hillsides.
It was about midday.