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Updated: June 24, 2025
What wonders did they not exhibit there! Water rose; there were peals of thunder; the earth trembled and vomited fire. And that was all deception. Why should the exhibition made by Pentuer be true? Besides, the prince had discovered strong indications that they wished to deceive him. The man groaning underground and covered, as it were, with boiling pitch by the priests was deception.
"It is they who inflict the greatest damage on Egypt." Not all, however, shouted in that way. When there was silence, Pentuer commanded to take the torches to the other side of the court, and thither he conducted his hearers. There were no tableaux there, but a kind of industrial exhibition. "Be pleased to look," said he.
Hence, today, in affairs of state he is like a blind person; he is like a child which puts out pieces boldly on a board, but has no idea how to play at draughts." "Still he governs." "Oh, Pentuer, what is his government?" interrupted the high priest, with laughter.
On its lips was a gentle smile for earthly power and glory; in its glance there was a waiting for something which was to come, but when no one knew. Soon the messengers returned from the ferry with information that boats would be waiting there. Pentuer went among the palms, and cried, "Wake! wake!" The watchful Asiatics sprang up at once, and began to bridle their horses.
The priests who listened began to embrace him; Mefres was weeping. "Never yet has there been such a prophet. One cannot imagine when he could make such calculations," said the best mathematician in the temple of Hator. "Fathers," said Pentuer, "do not overestimate my services. Long years ago in our temples the condition of the state was represented in this manner.
"Recover, leader," said he; "Patrokles is waiting for orders." "Patrokles?" repeated the prince, and he looked around quickly. Before him stood Pentuer, deathly pale, but collected. A couple of steps farther on was Tutmosis, also pale; in his trembling hand was an officer's whistle. From behind the hill bent forth soldiers, on whose faces deep emotion was evident.
On the faces of the priests satisfaction was depicted; they were more willing to hear of the guile of Phoenicians than the excesses of scribes throughout Egypt. Pentuer rested awhile, then he turned to the viceroy. "For some months," said he, "Ramses, O servant of the gods, Thou hast been inquiring why the income of his holiness is diminished.
Every hour, at times every half hour, some one approached Herhor's litter, now a priest of lower rank, an ordinary "servant of the gods," a marauding soldier, a freedman, or a slave, who, passing as it were indifferently the silent retinue of the minister, threw out a word. That word Pentuer recorded sometimes, but more frequently he remembered it, for his memory was amazing.
His litter, borne by six black slaves, was attended always by three persons: one carried his fan, another the mace of the minister, and the third a box for papyrus. This third man was Pentuer, a priest, and the secretary of Herhor. He was a lean ascetic who in the greatest heat never covered his shaven head.
Each made a profound obeisance to his lord, and each stood in a separate corner without looking at the other. "Have they quarreled?" thought Ramses? "No harm in that!" A moment later the holy Sem and the prophet Pentuer came in. Then Ramses sat on an elevation, indicated to the priests stools in front of him, and said, "Holy fathers!
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