"A curse on you! Ye wished to have a Jew king, and here is the king for you. Oh, why did I, unfortunate, listen to your traitorous advice!" She dropped, and fell again at the side of the cradle, groaning, "My son my little Seti! How beautiful he was, so cunning; just stretching out his little hands to me! O Jehovah! give him back to me, for that is in Thy power. O gods of Egypt, Osiris, Horus, Isis, O Isis, for Thou too wert a mother! It cannot be that in the heavens there is not one who will listen to my prayer. Such a dear, little child! A hyena would have spared him." The high priest took her by the arms, and put her on her feet. The police and the servants filled the room. "Sarah," said the high priest, "in the name of his holiness, the lord of Egypt, I summon thee, and command thee to answer, Who killed thy son?" She gazed straight ahead, like a maniac, and rubbed her forehead. The nomarch gave her water and wine, and one of the women present sprinkled her with vinegar. "In the name of his holiness," repeated Mefres, "I command thee, Sarah, to tell the name of the murderer." Those present withdrew toward the door; the nomarch with despairing action closed both his ears. "Who killed?" said Sarah, in a panting voice, sinking her gaze in the face of Mefres. "Who killed, dost Thou ask? I know you, ye priests! I know your justice." "Then who killed?" insisted Mefres. "I!" cried Sarah, in an unearthly voice. "I killed my child, because ye made him a Jew." "That is false!" hissed the high priest. "I, I!" repeated Sarah. "Hei, Ye people who see me and hear me," she turned to the witnesses, "ye know that I killed him I I I!" cried she, beating her breast. At such an explicit accusation of herself the nomarch recovered, and looked with compassion on Sarah; the women sobbed, the doorkeeper wiped away tears. But the holy Mefres closed his blue lips firmly. At last he said, with emphatic voice, while looking at the police official, "Servants of his holiness, I surrender this woman, whom ye are to conduct to the edifice of justice." "But my son with me!" interrupted Sarah, rushing to the cradle. "With thee, with thee, poor woman," said the nomarch; and he covered his face. The dignitaries went out of the chamber. The police officer had a litter brought, and with marks of the highest respect conducted Sarah down to it. The unfortunate woman seized a blood-stained bundle from the cradle, and took a seat, without resistance, in the litter. All the servants went after her to the chamber of justice. When Mefres, with the nomarch, was passing through the garden, the nomarch said, "I have compassion on that woman." "She will be punished properly for lying," answered the high priest. "Dost Thou think so, worthiness?" "I am certain that the gods will discover and punish the real murderer." At the garden gate the steward of Kama's villa stood in the road before them. "The Phoenician woman is gone. She disappeared last night."