"Yes," said she. "I saw that wretch, but I said nothing so as to spare thee pain. I must explain, however, that no one has proof that Lykon was put there by the priests, for the Phoenicians might have done that as well."
Hiram laughed sneeringly.
"O mother, mother!" cried Ramses, with sorrow. "Is it possible that the priests are dearer to thy heart than I am?"
"Thou art my son and most precious sovereign," said the queen with enthusiasm, "but I cannot suffer a stranger, an infidel, to cast calumny on the holy order of the priests from which we are both descended. O Ramses," exclaimed she, falling on her knees, "expel these wicked counselors who urge thee to insult temples, and raise thy hand against the successor of thy grandsire, Amenhotep. There is still time for agreement, still time to save Egypt."
All at once, Pentuer, in torn garments, entered the chamber.
"Well, and what hast Thou to say?" inquired the pharaoh, with wonderful calmness.
"Today, perhaps immediately, there will be an eclipse of the sun."
The pharaoh started back in astonishment.
"How does an eclipse of the sun concern me, especially at this moment?"
"Lord," said Pentuer, "I thought the same till I read in old chronicles of eclipses. An eclipse is such a terrifying spectacle that it was necessary to forewarn the whole people of it."