Then it was that Laban appeared.

I knew his hooked nose and hawk-like eyes at once, and she knew him also.
"Come away with me, Moon of Israel," he cried, "and all shall yet be forgiven you.

But if you will not come, then fearful things shall overtake you." She stood staring at him, answering never a word, and just then the Prince Seti reached us and saw him.
"Take that man," he commanded, flushing with anger, and guards sprang into the darkness to do his bidding.

But Laban was gone.
On the second day of the darkness the tumult was great, on the third it was terrible.

A crowd thrust the guard aside, broke down the gates and burst into the palace, humbly demanding that the lady Merapi would come to pray for them, yet showing by their mien that if she would not come they meant to take her.
"What is to be done ?" asked Seti of Ki and Bakenkhonsu.
"That is for the Prince to judge," said Ki, "though I do not see how it can harm the lady Merapi to pray for us in the open square of Memphis." "Let her go," said Bakenkhonsu, "lest presently we should all go further than we would." "I do not wish to go," cried Merapi, "not knowing for whom I am to pray or how." "Be it as you will, Lady," said Seti in his grave and gentle voice.
"Only, hearken to the roar of the mob.