But something happened which cooled the faith of the prince somewhat in the truthful speech of the priests, or rather it roused his previous distrust of them. Once he was going with a certain leech to the library. The way lay through a dark and narrow corridor from which the heir drew back with repulsion. "I will not go by this way," said he. "Why not?" inquired the leech, with astonishment. "Dost thou not remember, holy father, that at the end of that corridor is an opening in which a certain traitor was tortured to death without pity." "Aha!" answered the leech. "There is an opening there into which we poured boiling pitch at command of Pentuer." "And ye killed a man--" The leech smiled. He was a kindly, gladsome person. So, observing the indignation of the prince, he said after some meditation,-- "It is not permitted to betray temple secrets. Of course, before each of the greater solemnities, we bring this to the mind of younger candidates." His tone was so peculiar that Rameses required explanation. "I cannot betray secrets," replied the leech; "but promise, worthiness, to hide a story in thy breast, and I will tell thee one." Rameses promised. The leech gave this narrative:-- "A certain Egyptian priest, while visiting temples in the unbelieving land of Aram, met at one of them a man who seemed to him in good flesh and satisfied, though he wore wretched garments. 'Explain to me,' said the priest to the gladsome poor man, 'how it is that, though thou art indigent, thy body looks as though thou wert chief of this temple.' "That man looked around then to see if any one were listening, and answered,-- "'I am fat, because my voice is very woful; hence I am a martyr at this temple. When people come to service here, I crawl into an opening and groan with all the strength that is in my body; for this they give me food abundantly throughout the year, and a large jug of beer every day when I am tortured.' "Thus do they manage in the unbelieving land of Aram," said the leech, as he raised a finger to his lips, and added, "Remember, prince, what thou hast promised, and of boiling pitch in this place think whatever suits thee." This story roused the prince anew; he felt relief because a man had not been killed in the temple, but all his earlier distrust of priests sprang into life again. That they deluded simple people, he knew. He remembered the priests' procession with the sacred bull Apis, while he was in their school. The people were convinced that Apis led the priests, while every student saw that the divine beast went in whatever direction priests drove him.