My dearest Mother:
I commence this letter, as I did one written and addressed to you two days ago, with the probability, that circumstances may yet render the seal of secrecy, now placed upon it, unnecessary; at least I shall detain both this one and that, for a time, if not finally destroy them. But I have a feeling that you will yet read what I write.
If the incidents and scenes recorded, in the preceding letter, were of an extraordinary kind, you must be prepared to read in this, of events still more strange, and painfully interesting. It is with an effort that I calm my pulse, and subdue my emotions sufficiently, to narrate equably what I desire to make known to you.
The morning after my interview with the queen, I arose early from a sleepless couch; for the events of the preceding evening, recalled by an excited mind, kept me awake with reflections of the most anxious and distressing nature. I mourned for Remeses, my noble, wise, and great friend and counsellor,—a prince by nature, and by the seal of all the gods, if not by inheritance from the Pharaohs. Not regarding the Hebrew race with the disdainful eye of those who have been masters over them, like the Egyptians, but looking upon them only as an unfortunate nation, descendants of the three patriarchal princes of Palestine, I, dear mother, felt no contempt for Remeses on account of his lineage and blood: To me, he was still as dear and as much honored. It was not the "prince" I loved from the first, but the "man" and he remains. I tossed my head on my pillow, grieving for him; as I knew, should the tidings ever come to his ears, and be confirmed as a truth, that it would break his great heart—crush his mighty soul to the earth; for, educated as an Egyptian prince, he entertains towards the Hebrews, the haughty contempt (so far as this sentiment can repose in such a benevolent bosom), which characterizes the Egyptian nation. How will he be humbled, overwhelmed, confounded, dismayed!
Such were my wakeful reflections, when at length the morning dawned; and I arose, bathed, and prepared to obey the command of the queen to breakfast with her. Believing that she must have passed a sorrowful night, and would not awake early, I sat down to read in a roll of papyrus which lay upon my table, among other books that belonged to Remeses; for I was occupying his own suite of rooms during his absence, amid the sacred mysteries of his kingly initiation. It proved to be written in the Theban running character, which I am not familiar with, and laying it down, I took up a leaf of new papyrus, on which I recognized the bold and elegant script of Remeses. As he had given me free access to all upon the table, I examined the subject, and finding that it was a sacred poem, I read therein a few sentences, when I perceived that it was the history of a remarkable era in the life of the venerable Lord of Uz, to whom I have alluded. This aged and interesting Syrian has already taken his departure, but previously made known to Remeses, as he told me, all the events connected with an extraordinary period of his middle life.
I read, therefore, with interest what Remeses had commenced: for it was only a beginning. After giving the name of the Lord of Uz, and that of the land in which he dwelt, he spoke of his uprightness, his holiness, his riches, and his pious care over his children—who were seven sons and three daughters; and also of their happiness, festivities, and prosperity; and how, by the permission of the One God, Typhon, or the Spirit of Evil, tempted him.
Thus far had my friend got in the history, and I was about to replace the scroll, when the door opened, and lo! Prince Remeses himself stood before me! I started with an exclamation of joyful astonishment; but seeing his visage haggard and pallid with woe, I was alarmed. I approached him to embrace him, as he stood just within the door, regarding me with looks of doubt and solicitude.
"Wilt thou, O Prince of Tyre, embrace a Hebrew?" he surprised me by asking, in a voice deep and tremulous.
"Then thou knowest it all," I cried, "O my friend!" as I threw myself into his embrace.
For a few minutes we wept in each other's arms. At length he spoke and said—