The city of the Pharaohs was in unwonted agitation, for the storm-swift
breath of rumor had spread some news which excited both alarm and hope in
the huts of the poor as well as in the palaces of the great.

In the early morning three mounted messengers had arrived from the king's
camp with heavy letter-bags, and had dismounted at the Regent's palace.

[The Egyptians were great letter-writers, and many of their letters
have come down to us, they also had established postmen, and had a
word for them in their language "fai chat."]

As after a long drought the inhabitants of a village gaze up at the black
thunder-cloud that gathers above their heads promising the refreshing
rain--but that may also send the kindling lightning-flash or the
destroying hail-storm--so the hopes and the fears of the citizens were
centred on the news which came but rarely and at irregular intervals from
the scene of war; for there was scarcely a house in the huge city which
had not sent a father, a son, or a relative to the fighting hosts of the
king in the distant northeast.

And though the couriers from the camp were much oftener the heralds of
tears than of joy; though the written rolls which they brought told more
often of death and wounds than of promotion, royal favors, and conquered
spoil, yet they were expected with soul-felt longing and received with
shouts of joy.

Great and small hurried after their arrival to the Regent's palace, and
the scribes--who distributed the letters and read the news which was
intended for public communication, and the lists of those who had fallen