holiness the right to free these people?"

The official crossed his arms on his breast and bent his head,

"He is equal to the gods, he can do what he wishes; liberate accused,
nay, condemned men, and destroy even the documents of a case, things
which if done by a common man would be sacrilege."

The prince took farewell of the official, and said to the overseer,
"Give the accused better food at my expense." Then he sailed, greatly
irritated, to the other bank, stretching forth his hands toward the
palace continually, as if begging the pharaoh to destroy the case.

But that day his holiness had many religious ceremonies and a counsel
with the ministers, hence the heir could not see him. The prince went
immediately to the grand secretary, who next to the minister of war had
most significance at the court of the pharaoh. That ancient official, a
priest at one of the temples in Memphis, received the prince politely
but coldly, and when he had heard him he answered,

"It is a marvel to me that Thou wishest, worthiness, to disturb our
lord with such questions. It is as if Thou wert to beg him not to
destroy locusts which devour what is on the fields."

"But they are innocent people."

"We, worthy lord, cannot know that, for law and the courts decide as to
guilt and innocence. One thing is clear to me, the state cannot suffer
an attack on any one's garden, and especially cannot suffer that hands
should be raised against property of the erpatr."

"Thou speakest justly, but where are the guilty?" answered Ramses.

"Where there are no guilty there must at least be men who are punished.
Not the guilt of a man, but the punishment which follows a crime,
teaches others that they are not to commit the crime in question."

"I see," interrupted the heir, "that your worthiness will not support
my prayer."

"Wisdom flows from thy lips, erpatr," answered the priest. "Never shall
I give my lord a counsel which would expose the dignity of power to a
blow."

The prince returned home pained and astonished. He felt that an injury
had been done to some hundreds of people, and he saw that he could not
save them any more than he could rescue a man on whom an obelisk or the
column of a temple had fallen.

"My hands are too weak to rear this edifice," thought the prince, with
anguish of spirit.

For the first time he felt that there was a power infinitely greater
than his will, the interest of the state, which even the all-powerful