"He is a great magician, that priest," muttered the old Libyan.
"Before my eyes Thou hast performed a second miracle," said the prince.
"Canst Thou explain to me how that was done?"
The priest shook his head.
"Ask of me anything, lord, and I will answer. But ask not to explain temple secrets."
"Not even if I were to name thee my counselor?"
"Not even then. Never shall I be a traitor, and even if I desired to be one I should be terrified by punishment."
"Punishment?" repeated Ramses. "Aha! I remember in the temple of Hator, that man hidden under the pavement, on whom the priests were pouring burning pitch. Did they do that, indeed, and did that man die really in tortures?"
Pentuer was silent, as if not hearing the question, and drew out slowly from his wonderful bag a small statue of a divinity with crossed arms. The statue depended from a string; the priest let it hang, and whispered a prayer, while he watched it. The statue, after some turnings and quiverings, hung without motion.
Ramses, by the light of the torch, looked at these acts with astonishment.
"What art Thou doing?" asked he.