The Pharaoh and the Priest. Bolesław Prus

tormented by a giant whose sandals were larger than any ship of the Phoenicians.

      A physician on the wall of his office represented persons who, thanks to his aid, had recovered lost hands and feet, even teeth and youthfulness. On a building occupied by a government administrator of the quarter were to be seen a keg into which people were throwing gold rings; a scribe into whose ears some one was whispering; an offender, stretched on the ground, whom two other men were beating.

      The street was full. Along the walls stood litter-bearers, men with fans, messengers and laborers, ready to offer their services. In the middle of the street moved an unbroken line of merchants' wares carried by men, asses, or oxen attached to vehicles. On the sidewalks pushed forward noisy sellers of fresh water, grapes, dates, dried fish, and among them hucksters, flower-girls, musicians, and tricksters of various descriptions.

      In this torrent of people which flowed forward and separated, in which men bought and sold, crying out in various tones, policemen were prominent. Each had a brownish tunic reaching to his knees, bare legs, an apron with blue and red stripes, a short sword at his side, and a strong stick in his hand. This official walked along on the sidewalk; sometimes he conversed with a colleague; most frequently, however, he stood on a stone at the edge of the street, so as to take in more accurately the crowd which flowed past in front of him.

      In view of such watchfulness street thieves had to do their work cleverly. Usually two began to fight, and when a crowd had gathered around them and the police clubbed both spectators and quarrelers, other confederates in the art did the stealing.

      About half-way between the two ends of the street stood the inn of Asarhadon, a Phoenician from Tyre. In this inn, for easier control, all were forced to dwell who came from beyond the boundaries of Egypt. It was a large quadrangular building which on each side had a number of tens of windows, and was not connected with other houses; hence men could go around the place and watch it from all points. Over the principal gate hung the model of a ship; on the front wall were pictures representing his holiness Ramses XII placing offerings before the gods, or extending his protection to foreigners, among whom the Phoenicians were distinguished by a sturdy stature and very ruddy faces.

      The windows were narrow, always open, and only in case of need shaded by curtains of linen or by colored slats. The chambers of the innkeeper and of travelers occupied three stories; the ground floor was devoted to a wine shop and an eating-place. Sailors, carriers, handicraftsmen, and in general the poorer class of travelers ate and drank in a courtyard which had a mosaic pavement and a linen roof resting on columns, so that all guests might be under inspection. The wealthier and better born ate in a gallery which surrounded the courtyard. In the courtyard the men sat on the pavement near stones which were used instead of tables; in the galleries, which were cooler, there were tables, stools, and armchairs, even low couches, with cushions, on which guests might slumber.

      In each gallery there was a great table on which were bread, meat, fish, and fruits, also jugs holding several quarts of beer, wine, and water. Negroes, men and women, bore around food to the guests, removed empty vessels, and brought from the cellars full pitchers, while scribes watching scrupulously over the tables noted down carefully each piece of bread, bulb of garlic, and flagon of water. In the courtyard two inspectors stood on an elevation with sticks in their grasp; these men kept their eyes on the servants and the scribes on the one hand, and on the other by the aid of the sticks they settled quarrels between the poorer guests of various nations. Thanks to this arrangement thefts and battles happened rarely; they were more frequent in the galleries than the courtyard.

      The Phoenician innkeeper himself, the noted Asarhadon, a man beyond fifty, dressed in a long tunic and a muslin cape, walked among the guests to see if each received what he had ordered.

      "Eat and drink, my sons!" said he to the Greek sailors, "for such pork and beer there is not in all the world as I have. I hear that a storm struck your ship about Rafia? Ye should give a bounteous offering to the gods for preserving you. In Memphis a man might not see a storm all his life, but at sea it is easier to meet lightning than a copper uten. I have mead, flour, incense for holy sacrifices, and here, in the corner, stand the gods of all nations. In my inn a man may still his hunger and be pious for very slight charges."

      He turned and went to the gallery among the merchants. "Eat and drink, worthy lords," incited he, making obeisance. "The times are good. The most worthy heir may he live for ever! is going to Pi-Bast with an enormous retinue, but from the upper kingdom a transport of gold has come, of which more than one of you will win a good portion. I have partridges, young goslings, fish direct from the river, perfect roast venison. And what wine they have sent me from Cyprus! May I be turned into a Jew if a goblet of that luxury is not worth two drachmas, but to you, my benefactors and fathers, I will give it today for one drachma, only today, to make a beginning."

      "Give it for half a drachma a goblet, and we will taste it," said one of the merchants.

      "Half a drachma!" repeated the host. "Sooner will the Nile flow upward toward Thebes than I give such sweetness for half a drachma, unless I do it for thee, Lord Belezis, who art the pearl of Sidon. Hei, slaves! bring to our benefactors the largest pitcher of wine from Cyprus."

      When the innkeeper had walked on, the merchant named Belezis said to his companions,

      "May my hand wither if that wine is worth half a drachma! But never mind! We shall have less trouble with the police hereafter."

      Conversation with guests of all nations and conditions did not prevent the host from looking at the scribes who noted down food and drink, at the watchman who stared at the scribes and the servants, and above all at a traveler who had seated himself on cushions in the front gallery, with his feet under him, and who was dozing over a handful of dates and a goblet of pure water. That traveler was about forty years old, he had abundant hair and beard of raven color, thoughtful eyes, and wonderfully noble features which seemed never to have been wrinkled by anger or distorted by fear.

      "That is a dangerous rat!" thought the innkeeper, frowning. "He has the look of a priest, but he wears a dark coat. He has left gold and jewels with me to the value of a talent, and he neither eats meat nor drinks wine. He must be a great prophet or a very great criminal."

      Two naked serpent tamers came into the courtyard bearing a basket full of poisonous reptiles, and began their exhibition. The younger one played on a flute, while the elder wound around his body snakes big and little, any one of which would have sufficed to drive away guests from the inn "Under the Ship."

      The flute-player gave out shriller and shriller notes; the serpent- tamer squirmed, foamed at the mouth, quivered convulsively, and irritated the reptiles till one of them bit him on the hand, another on the face, while he swallowed alive a third one, the smallest.

      The guests and the servants looked at the exhibition of the serpent- tamer with alarm. They trembled when he irritated the reptiles, they closed their eyes when they bit him; but when the performer swallowed one of the snakes, they howled with delight and wonder.

      The traveler in the front gallery, however, did not leave his cushions, he did not deign even to look at the exhibition. But when the tamer approached for pay, he threw to the pavement two copper utens, giving a sign with his hand not to come nearer.

      The exhibition lasted half an hour perhaps. When the performers left the courtyard, a negro attending to the chambers of the inn rushed up to the host and whispered something anxiously. After that, it was unknown whence, a decurion of the police appeared, and when he had conducted Asarhadon to a remote window, he conversed long with him. The worthy owner of the inn beat his breast, clasped his hands, or seized his head. At last he kicked the black man in the belly, and commanded him to give the police official a roast goose and a pitcher of Cyprus wine; then he approached the guest in the front gallery, who seemed to doze there un brokenly, though his eyes were open.

      "I have evil news for thee, worthy lord," said the host, sitting at the side of the traveler.

      "The gods send rain and sadness on people whenever it pleases them," replied the guest, with indifference.

      "While we were looking at the snake-tamers," continued the host, pulling