The old priest shifted a little before he answered.
"The mysteries of the faith are in possession of Mesu," he began at last. "The writing saith he hath exerted great influence over the bond-people—in truth he hath entered a peaceful land and stirred it up—and time is but needed to bring the unrest to open warfare. Thou, O Meneptah, and thou, O Rameses, and thou, O Har-hat, each being of the brotherhood—ye know that we hold the faith by scant tenure in the respect of the people. Ye know the perversity of humanity. Obedience and piety are not in them. Though they never knew a faith save the faith of their fathers, we must pursue them with a gad, tickle them with processions and awe them with manifestations. So if it were to come over the spirit of this Hebrew to betray the mysteries, to scout the faith and overturn the gods, he would have rabble Egypt following at his heels.
"As the writing saith, he hath the destruction of the state in mind, and his own aggrandizement. He but beginneth on the faith because he seeth in that a rift wherein to put the lever that shall pry the whole state asunder. So with two and a half millions of Hebrews and a horde of renegade Egyptians to combat, I fear the Rameside army might spill more good blood than is worth wasting on a mongrel multitude. The rabble without a leader is harmless. Cut off the head of the monster, and there is neither might nor danger in the trunk. Put away Mesu, and the insurrection will subside utterly."
The priest paused and Meneptah stroked the polished coping of the panel before him with a nervous hand. There was complete silence for a moment, broken at last by the king.
"Mesu, though a Hebrew, an infidel and a malefactor, is a prince of the realm, my foster-brother—Neferari's favorite son. I can not rid myself of him on provocation as yet misty and indirect."
"Nay," he added after another pause, "he shall not die by hand of mine." The prelate raised his head and met the eyes of the king. After he read what lay therein, the dissatisfaction that had begun to show on his ancient face faded.
The Pharaoh settled back into his seat and his brow cleared as if the problem had been settled. But suddenly he sat up.
"What have I profited by this council? Shall I take the army or leave it distributed over Egypt?" He stopped abruptly and turned to the crown prince. "Help us, my Rameses," he said in a softer tone. "We had well-nigh forgotten thee."
Rameses raised himself from the back of his cathedra, against which he lounged, and moved a step forward.
"A word, my father," he said calmly. "Thy perplexity hath not been untangled for thee, nor even a thread pulled which shall start it raveling. The priesthood can kill Mesu," he said to Loi, "and it will do them no hurt. And thou, my father, canst countenance it and seem no worse than any other monarch that loved his throne. Thus ye will decapitate the monster. But there be creatures in the desert which, losing one head, grow another. Mesu is not of such exalted or supernatural villainy that they can not fill his place. Wilt thou execute Israel one by one as it raises up a leader against thee? Nay; and wilt thou play the barbarian and put two and a half million at once to the sword?"