All round the hall were pillars of painted wood. The roof was of cedar, gorgeously inlaid. About half-way up the hall was a wide, shallow step that went right across the hall; then a little farther on another; and then a steep flight of narrower steps, leading right up to the throne on which Pharaoh sat. He sat there very splendid, his red and white double crown on his head, and his sceptre in his hand. The throne had a canopy of wood and wooden pillars painted in bright colours. On a low, broad bench that ran all round the hall sat the friends, relatives, and courtiers of the King, leaning on richly-covered cushions.
The priest led the children up the steps till they all stood before the throne; and then, suddenly, he fell on his face with hands outstretched. The others did the same, Anthea falling very carefully because of the Psammead.
“Raise them,” said the voice of Pharaoh, “that they may speak to me.”
The officers of the King’s household raised them.
“Who are these strangers?” Pharaoh asked, and added very crossly, “And what do you mean, Rekh-marā, by daring to come into my presence while your innocence is not established?”
“Oh, great King,” said the young priest, “you are the very image of Rā, and the likeness of his son Horus in every respect. You know the thoughts of the hearts of the gods and of men, and you have divined that these strangers are the children of the children of the vile and conquered Kings of the Empire where the sun never sets. They know a magic not known to the Egyptians. And they come with gifts in their hands as tribute to Pharaoh, in whose heart is the wisdom of the gods, and on his lips their truth.”
“That is all very well,” said Pharaoh, “but where are the gifts?”
The children, bowing as well as they could in their embarrassment at finding themselves the centre of interest in a circle more grand, more golden and more highly coloured than they could have imagined possible, pulled out the padlock, the Nécessaire, and the tie-clip. “But it’s not tribute all the same,” Cyril muttered. “England doesn’t pay tribute!”
Pharaoh examined all the things with great interest when the chief of the household had taken them up to him. “Deliver them to the Keeper of the Treasury,” he said to one near him. And to the children he said—
“A small tribute, truly, but strange, and not without worth. And the magic, O Rekh-marā?”