They went beneath the temple of Ptah and entered a large vault where a lamp was then gleaming. By the feeble light Herhor saw a man sitting at a table; he was eating. The man wore a coat of the pharaoh's guardsmen.
"Lykon," said Mefres, "the highest dignitary of the state wishes evidence of those powers with which the gods have gifted thee."
"Cursed be the day in which the soles of my feet touched your land!" muttered Lykon, pushing away a plate with food on it. "I should rather labor in the quarries, and be beaten."
"There will be time for that always," interrupted Herhor, severely.
The Greek was silent, and trembled suddenly when he saw a dark crystal globe in the hand of Mefres. He grew pale, his sight became dim, large drops of sweat came out on his face. His eyes were fixed on one point, as if fastened to that ball of crystal.
"He is sleeping," said Mefres. "Is this not wonderful?"
"If he is not feigning."
"Punch him, stick him, burn him even," said Mefres.
Herhor drew from under his white robe a dagger and pointed it as if to strike Lykon between the eyes, but the Greek did not move, even his eyelids did not quiver.
"Look!" said Mefres, holding the crystal up to Lykon. "Dost Thou see the man who carried off Kama?"