The voices, indistinct at first, grew stronger, so that each word was audible, and when the procession disappeared the words scattered among the columns, growing ever fainter. At last every sound ceased. "And still those people," thought Ramses, "not only eat, drink, and gather wealth they really perform religious services even in the night- time; though, how is that to affect the statue?" The prince had seen more than once the statues of boundary divinities bespattered with mud by the inhabitants of another province, or shot at from bows or slings by mercenary soldiers. "If gods are not offended by insult, they must also care little for prayers and processions. Besides, who has seen gods?" said the prince to himself. The immensity of the temple, its countless columns, the lamps burning in front of the statue, all this attracted Ramses. He wished to look around in that mysterious immensity, and he went forward. Then it seemed to him that some hand from behind touched his head tenderly. He looked around. No one was there; so he went farther. This time the two hands of some person seized him by the head, and a third, a great hand, rested on his shoulder. "Who is here?" cried he prince; and he rushed in among the columns. But he stumbled and almost fell: some one caught him by the feet. Again terror mastered Ramses more than in the cell. He fled distracted, knocking against columns which seemed to bar the way to him, and darkness closed around the man on all sides. "Oh, save, holy goddess, save me!" whispered he. At this moment he stopped: some yards in front of him was the great door of a temple through which the starry sky was visible. He turned his head. Amid the forest of gigantic columns lamps were burning, and the gleam of them was reflected faintly from the bronze knees of the holy Hator. The prince returned to his cell, crushed and excited; his heart throbbed like that of a bird caught in a net. For the first time in many years he fell with his face to the earth and prayed ardently for favor and forgiveness. "Thou wilt be heard," answered a sweet voice above him. Ramses raised his head quickly, but there was no one in the cell: the door was closed, the walls were thick. He prayed on therefore more ardently, and fell asleep in that position, with his face on the stones and his arms extended. When he woke next morning, he was another man: he had experienced the might of the gods, and favor had been promised. From that time through a long series of days he gave himself to devotional exercises with faith and alacrity. In his cell he spent long hours over prayers, he had his head shaven, and put on priestly garments, and four times in twenty-four hours he took part in a chorus of the youngest priests.