Joshua | Page 5

the sufferer, but instantly
started to his feet, for the gates were flung wide open and the light of
torches and lanterns streamed into the court. A swift glance at the sky
told him that it was a little after midnight, yet his fears seemed to have
been true--the priests were crowding into the temples to prepare for the
harvest festival to-morrow.
But he was wrong. When had they ever entered the sanctuary for this
purpose in orderly procession, solemnly chanting hymns? Nor was the
train composed only of servants of the deity. The population had joined
them, for the shrill lamentations of women and wild cries of despair,
such as he had never heard before in all his long life within these sacred
walls, blended in the solemn litany.
Or were his senses playing him false? Was the groaning throng of
restless spirits which his grandson had pointed out to him from the
observatory, pouring into the sanctuary of the gods?
New horror seized upon him; with arms flung upward to bid the
specters avaunt he muttered the exorcism against the wiles of evil
spirits. But he soon let his hands fall again; for among the throng he
noted some of his friends who yesterday, at least, had still walked

among living men. First, the tall form of the second prophet of the god,
then the women consecrated to the service of Amon-Ra, the singers and
the holy fathers and, when he perceived behind the singers, astrologers,
and pastophori his own brother-in-law, whose house had yesterday
been spared by the plague, he summoned fresh courage and spoke to
him. But his voice was smothered by the shouts of the advancing
multitude.
The courtyard was now lighted, but each individual was so engrossed
by his own sorrows that no one noticed the old astrologer. Tearing the
cloak from his shivering limbs to make a pillow for the lad's tossing
head, he heard, while tending him with fatherly affection, fierce
imprecations on the Hebrews who had brought this woe on Pharaoh
and his people, mingling with the chants and shouts of the approaching
crowd and, recurring again and again, the name of Prince Rameses, the
heir to the throne, while the tone in which it was uttered, the formulas
of lamentation associated with it, announced the tidings that the eyes of
the monarch's first-born son were closed in death.
The astrologer gazed at his grandson's wan features with increasing
anxiety, and even while the wailing for the prince rose louder and
louder a slight touch of gratification stirred his soul at the thought of
the impartial justice Death metes out alike to the sovereign on his
throne and the beggar by the roadside. He now realized what had
brought the noisy multitude to the temple!
With as much swiftness as his aged limbs would permit, he hastened
forward to meet the mourners; but ere he reached them he saw the gate-
keeper and his wife come out of their house, carrying between them on
a mat the dead body of a boy. The husband held one end, his fragile
little wife the other, and the gigantic warder was forced to stoop low to
keep the rigid form in a horizontal position and not let it slip toward the
woman. Three children, preceded by a little girl carrying a lantern,
closed the mournful procession.
Perhaps no one would have noticed the group, had not the gate-keeper's
little wife shrieked so wildly and piteously that no one could help
hearing her lamentations. The second prophet of Amon, and then his

companions, turned toward them. The procession halted, and as some
of the priests approached the corpse the gate-keeper shouted loudly:
"Away, away from the plague! It has stricken our first-born son."
The wife meantime had snatched the lantern from her little girl's hand
and casting its light full on the dead boy's rigid face, she screamed:
"The god hath suffered it to happen. Ay, he permitted the horror to
enter beneath his own roof. Not his will, but the curse of the stranger
rules us and our lives. Look, this was our first-born son, and the plague
has also stricken two of the temple-servants. One already lies dead in
our room, and there lies Kamus, grandson of the astrologer Rameri. We
heard the old man call, and saw what was happening; but who can prop
another's house when his own is falling? Take heed while there is time;
for the gods have opened their own sanctuaries to the horror. If the
whole world crumbles into ruin, I shall neither marvel nor grieve. My
lord priests, I am only a poor lowly woman, but am I not right when I
ask: Do our gods sleep, or has some one paralyzed them, or what are
they doing