"A messenger from Hiram has been with me. Hiram, fearing the anger of the priests, is hiding before he leaves Egypt. Hiram has heard, from the chief of police in PiBast perhaps, that Lykon was captured But quiet!" added the frightened Tutmosis.
The prince fell into anger for a moment, but soon mastered himself.
"Captured?" repeated he. "Why should that be a secret?"
"It is, for the chief of police had to yield him up to the holy Mefres at his command in the name of the supreme council."
"Aha! aha!" repeated the heir. "So the revered Mefres and the supreme council need a man who resembles me so much? Aha! They are to give my son and Sarah a beautiful funeral, and embalm their remains. But the murderer they will secrete safely. Aha!
"And the holy Mentezufis is a great sage. He told me today all the secrets of life beyond the grave; he explained to me the whole funeral ritual, as if I were a priest at least of the third degree. But touching the seizure of Lykon, the hiding of that murderer by Mefres, not a word! Evidently the holy fathers are more occupied by minute secrets of the heir to the throne than with the great secrets of future existence. Aha!"
"It seems to me, lord, that Thou shouldst not wonder at that," interrupted Tutmosis. "Thou knowest that the priests suspect thee of ill-will, and are on their guard. All the more."
"What, all the more?"
"Since his holiness is very ill. Very."
"Aha! my father is ill, and I meanwhile at the head of the army must watch the desert lest the sand should run out of it. It is well that Thou hast reminded me of this! Yes, his holiness must be very ill, since the priests are so tender toward me. They show me everything and speak of everything, except this, that Mefres has secreted Lykon."