The pharaoh recalled the obeisances of Herhor, the looks of Mefres, and the tones of voice which both used. Beneath the show of good-will, their pride and their contempt for him appeared each moment. He asks for money, they promise prayers. Nay! they dare to tell him that he is not sole ruler in the land of Egypt.
The young sovereign laughed in spite of himself, for he called to mind the hired herdsmen who told the owner of the flock that he had no right to do what he liked with it. Besides the ridiculous aspect there was in the case a point which was terrible. The treasury contained perhaps a thousand talents which, according to the recent rate of outlay would last from seven to ten days. And then what? How would the officials, the servants, and above all how would the army, exist, not only without pay, but without sustenance?
The high priests knew this position of the pharaoh if they did not hasten to assist him they wished to ruin him, and to ruin him in the course of a few days, even before the funeral of his father.
Ramses recalled a certain event of his childhood.
He was at a school of the priests when, on the festival of the goddess Mut, after various amusements they introduced the most famous buffoon in Egypt. This artist represented an unfortunate hero: when he commanded he was not obeyed, his anger was answered with laughter, and when, to punish those who made sport of him, he seized an axe, the axe broke in his hands. At last they let out a lion at him and when the defenseless hero began to flee it turned out that not a lion was chasing him, but a pig in a lion's skin.
The pupils and the teachers laughed at those adventures till the tears came; but the little prince sat gloomily; he was sorry for the man who was eager for great things but fell covered with ridicule.
That scene and the feelings which he experienced then were revived in the memory of the pharaoh. "They want to make me like that buffoon," thought he. Despair seized him, for he felt that his power would end when the last talent was issued, and with his power his life also.
But here came a certain revulsion. He halted in the middle of the room and thought,
"What can happen to me? Nothing save death. I will go to my glorious ancestors, to Ramses the Great But then, I could not tell them that I died without defending myself. After the misfortunes of this earthly life eternal shame would meet me. How was it to end? He, the conqueror at the Soda Lakes, to yield before a handful of deceivers against whom one Asiatic regiment would not have much trouble? For the reason, then, that Mefres and Herhor wish to rule Egypt and the pharaoh, his troops must suffer hunger, and a million men are not to receive rest from labor? But did not his ancestors rear these temples. Did they not fill them with spoils? And who won the battles? The priests, or the warriors? Who, then, had a right to the treasures, the priests, or the pharaoh and his army?"
Ramses shrugged his shoulders and summoned Tutmosis. Though it was late at night the favorite came to him straightway.