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DEDICATION. 
 
 Thou knowest well from what this book arose. 
 When suffering seized and held me in its clasp 
 The fostering hand released me from its grasp. 
 
 And from amid the thorns there bloomed a rose. 
 Air, dew, and sunshine were bestowed by The«^ 
 And Thine it is ; without these lines from me. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 In the winter of 1875 I spent some weeks in one of th« 
 tombs of the Necropolis of Thebes in order to study the 
 monuments of that solemn city of the dead ; and during 
 my long rides in the silent desert the germ was developed 
 whence this book has since grown. The leisure of mind 
 and body required to write it was given me through a long 
 but not disabling illness. 
 
 In the first instance I intended to elucidate this story — 
 like my "Egyptian Princess" — with numerous and exten- 
 sive notes placed at the end ; but I was led to give up this 
 plan from finding that it would lead me to the repetition 
 of much that I had written in the notes to that earlier 
 work. 
 
 The numerous notes to the former novel had a threefold 
 purpose. In the first place they served to explain the 
 text ; in the second they were a guarantee of the care with 
 which I had striven to depict the archaeological details in 
 all their individuality from the records of the monuments 
 and of classic authors ; and thirdly I hoped to supply the 
 reader who desired further knowledge of the period with 
 some guide to his studies. 
 
 In the present work I shall venture to content myself 
 with the simple statement that I have introduced nothing 
 as proper to Egypt and to the period of Rameses that can- 
 not be proved by some authority ; the numerous monu- 
 ments which have descended to us from the time of the 
 Rameses, in fact enable the inquirer to understand much 
 
6 PREFACE. 
 
 of the aspect and arrangeinent of Egyptian life, and to 
 follow it step by step through the details of religious, 
 public and private life, even of particular individuals. 
 
 Every part of this book is intelligible without the aid of 
 notes ; but, for the reader who seeks for further enlighten- 
 ment, I have added some foot-notes, and have not 
 neglected to mention such works as afford more detailed 
 information on the subjects mentioned in the narrative. 
 
 The reader who wishes to follow the mind of the author 
 in this work should not trouble himself with the notes as 
 he reads, but merely at the beginning of each chapter read 
 over the notes which belong to the foregoing one. Every 
 glance at the foot-notes must necessarily disturb and injure 
 the development of the tale as a work of art. The story 
 stands here as it flowed from one fount, and was supplied 
 with notes only after its completion. 
 
 A narrative of Herodotus combined with the Epos of 
 Pentaur, of which so many copies have been handed down 
 to us, forms the foundation of the story. 
 
 The treason of the regent related by the Father of His- 
 tory is referable perhaps to the reign of the third and not 
 of the second Rameses. But it is by no means certain 
 that the Halicarnassian writer was in this case misin- 
 formed, and in this fiction no history will be inculcated ; 
 only as a background shall I offer a sketch of the time of 
 Sesostris, from a picturesque point of view, but with the 
 nearest possible approach to truth. It is true that to this 
 end nothing has been neglected that could be learned 
 from the monuments or the papyri ; still the book is only 
 a romance, a poetic fiction, in which I wish all the facts 
 derived from history and all the costumes drawn from the 
 monuments to be regarded as incidental, and the emo- 
 tions of the actors in the story as what I attach import- 
 ance to. 
 
 But I must be allowed to make one observation- 
 
PREFACE. 7 
 
 From studying the conventional mode of execution of 
 ancient Egyptian art — which was strictly subject to the 
 hieratic laws of type and proportion — we have accustomed 
 ourselves to imagine the inhabitants of the Nile-valley in 
 the time of the Pharaohs as tall and haggard men with 
 little distinction of individual physiognomy, and recently 
 a great painter has sought to represent them under this 
 aspect in a modern picture. 
 
 This is an error ; the Egyptians, in spite of their aver- 
 sion to foreigners and their strong attachment to their 
 native soil, were one of the most intellectual and active 
 peoples of antiquity ; and he who would represent them as 
 they lived, and to that end copies the forms which remain 
 painted on the walls of the temples and sepulchres, is the 
 accomplice of those priestly corrupters of art who com- 
 pelled the painters and sculptors of the Pharaonic era to 
 abandon truth to nature in favor of their sacred laws of 
 proportion. 
 
 He who desires to paint the ancient Egyptians with 
 truth and fidelity, must regard it in some sort as an act of 
 enfranchisement ; that is to say, he must release the con- 
 ventional forms from those fetters which were peculiar to 
 their art and altogether foreign to their real life. Indeed, 
 works of sculpture remain to us of the time of the first 
 pyramid, which represent men with the truth of nature, 
 unfettered by the sacred canon. We can recall the so-called 
 •'Village Judge "of Bulaq, the *' Scribe," now in Paris, 
 and a few figures in bronze in different museums, as well 
 as the noble and characteristic busts of all epochs, which 
 amply prove how great the variety of individual phys- 
 iognomy, and, with that, of individual character, was 
 among the Egyptians. Alma Tadema in London and 
 Gustav Richter in Berlin, have, as painters, treated Egyp- 
 tian subjects, in a manner which the poet recognizes and 
 accepts with delight. 
 
8 PREFACE. 
 
 Many earlier witnesses than the late writer Flavius 
 Vopiscus might be referred to who show us the Egyptians 
 as an industrious and peaceful people, passionately de- 
 voted, it is true, to all that pertains to the other world, 
 but also enjoying the gifts of life to the fullest extent, nay 
 sometimes to excess. 
 
 Real men, such as we see around us in actual life, not 
 silhouettes constructed to the old priestly scale such as the 
 monuments show us — real living men dwelt by the old 
 Nile-stream ; and the poet who would represent them 
 must courageously seize on types out of the daily life of 
 modern men that surround him, without fear of deviating 
 too far from reality, and, placing them in their own long- 
 past time, color them only and clothe them to correspond 
 with it. 
 
 I have discussed the authorities for tjhe conception of 
 love which I have ascribed to the ancients in the preface 
 to the second edition of the ''Egyptian Princess." 
 
 With these lines I send Uarda into the world ; and in 
 them I add my thanks to those dear friends in whose 
 beautiful home, embowered in green, bird-haunted woods 
 I have so often refreshed my spirit and recovered my 
 strength, where I now write the last words of this book. 
 
 Georg £B£RS. 
 Rheinbollkrhutte, September 22, 1876. 
 
UARDA. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 By the walls of Thebes — the old city of a hundred gates 
 — the Nile spreads to a broad river ; the heights, which 
 follow the stream on both sides, here take a more decided 
 outline ; solitary, almost cone-shaped peaks stand out 
 sharply from the level background of the many-colored 
 limestone hills, on which no palm-tree flourishes and in 
 which no humble desert-plant can strike root. Rocky 
 crevasses and gorges cut more or less deeply into the 
 mountain range, and up to its ridge extends the desert, 
 destructive of all hfe, with sand and stones, with rocky 
 clififs and reef-like, desert hills. 
 
 Behind the eastern range the desert spreads to the Red 
 Sea ; behind the western it stretches without limit, into 
 hifinity. In the belief of the Egyptians beyond it lay the 
 region of the dead. 
 
 Between these two ranges of hills, which serve as walls 
 or ramparts to keep back the desert-sand, flows the fresh 
 and bounteous Nile, bestowing blessing and abundance ; 
 at once the father and the cradle of millions of beings. On 
 each shore spreads the wide plain of black and fruitful soil, 
 and in the depths many-shaped creatures, in coats of mail 
 or scales, swarm and find subsistence. 
 
 The lotus floats on the mirror of the waters, and among 
 the papyrus reeds by the shore water-fowl innumerable 
 build their nests. Between the river and the mountain 
 range lie fields, which after the seed-time are of a shining 
 blue-green, and toward the time of harvest glow like gold. 
 • I^ear the brooks ai^d wate^--wh^els here and there stands a 
 
lO UARDA. 
 
 shady sycamore ; and date-palms, carefully tended, g^ivvup 
 themselves in groves. The fruitful plain, watered and 
 manured every year by the inundation, lies at the foot of 
 the sandy desert-hills behind it, and stands out like a 
 garden flower-bed from the gravel path. 
 
 In the fourteenth century before Christ — for to so remote 
 a date we must direct the thoughts of the reader — impass- 
 able limits had been set by the hand of man, in many 
 places in Thebes, to the inroads of the water ; high dykes 
 of stone and embankments protected the streets and 
 squares, the temples and the palaces, from the overflow. 
 
 Canals that could be tightly closed up led from the dykes 
 to the land within, and smaller branch-cuttings to the 
 gardens of Thebes. 
 
 On the right, the eastern, bank of the Nile rose the 
 buildings of the far-famed residence of the Pharaohs. 
 Close by the river stood the immense and gaudy temples 
 of the city of Amon ; behind these and at a short distance 
 from the Eastern hills — indeed at their very foot and partly 
 even on the soil of the desert — were the palaces of the 
 king and nobles, and the shady streets in which the high 
 narrow houses of the citizens stood in close rows. 
 
 Life was gay and busy in the streets of the capital of 
 the Pharaohs. 
 
 The western shore of the Nile shov/ed a quite different 
 scene. Here too there was no lack of stately buildings or 
 thronging men ; but while on the further side of the river 
 there was a compact mass of houses, and the citizens went 
 cheerfully and openly about their day's work, on this side 
 there were solitary splendid structures, round which little 
 houses and huts seemed to cling as children cling to the 
 protection of a mother. And these buildings lay in de- 
 tached groups. 
 
 Any one climbing the hill and looking down would form 
 the notion that there lay below him a number of neigh- 
 boring villages, each with its lordly manor-house. Look- 
 ing from the plain up to the precipice of the western hills, 
 hundreds of closed portals could be seen, some solitary, 
 others closely ranged in rows ; a great number of them 
 toward the foot of the slope, yet more half-way up, and a 
 few at a considerable height. 
 
 And even mOre dissimilar w^re the slow-rnoving, solemn 
 
 I 
 
UARDA. 11 
 
 gfroups in the road- ways on this side, and the cheerful, con- 
 tused throng yonder. There, on the eastern shore, all 
 were in eager pursuit of labor or recreation, stirred by 
 pleasure or by grief, active in deed and speech ; here, in 
 the west, little was spoken, a spell seemed to check the 
 footstep of the wanderer, a pale hand to sadden the bright 
 glance of every eye, and to banish the smile from every lip. 
 
 And yet many a gayly-dressed bark stopped at the 
 shore, there was no lack of minstrel bands, grand proces- 
 sions passed on to the western heights ; but the Nile boats 
 bore the dead, the songs sung here were songs of lamen- 
 tation, and the processions consisted of mourners follow- 
 ing the sarcophagus. 
 
 We are standing on the soil of the City of the Dead of 
 Thebes. 
 
 Nevertheless even here nothing is wanting for return 
 and revival, for to the Egyptian his dead died not. He 
 closed his eyes, he bore him to the Necropolis, to the 
 house of the embalmer, or Kolchytes, and then to the 
 grave ; but he knew that the souls of the departed lived on ; 
 that the justified absorbed into Osiris floated over the 
 Heavens in the vessel of the Sun ; that they appeared on 
 earth in the form they chose to take upon them, and that 
 they might exert influence on the current of the lives of 
 the survivors. So he took care to give a worthy interment 
 to his dead, above all to have the body embalmed so as to 
 endure long ; and had fixed times to bring fresh offerings 
 for the dead, of flesh and fowl, with drink-offerings and 
 sweet-smelling essences, and vegetables and flowers. 
 
 Neither at the obsequies nor at the offerings might the 
 ministers of the gods be absent, and the silent City of the 
 Dead was regarded as a favored sanctuary in which to es- 
 tablish schools and dwellings for the learned. 
 
 So it came to pass that in the temples and on the site of 
 the Necropolis, large communities of priests dwelt to- 
 gether, and close to the extensive embalming houses lived 
 numerous Kolchytes, who handed down the secrets of 
 their art from father to son. 
 
 Besides these there were other manufactories and shops. 
 In the former, sarcophagi of stone and of wood, linen 
 bands for enveloping mummies, and amulets for decorat- 
 ing them, were made ; in the latter, merchants kept spices 
 
12 UARDA. 
 
 and essences, flowers, fruits, vegetables and pastry for 
 sale. Calves, gazelles, goats, geese and other fowl were 
 fed on inclosed meadow-plats, and the mourners betook 
 themselves thither to select what they needed from among 
 the beasts pronounced by the priests to be clean for sacri- 
 fice, and to have them sealed with the sacred seal. Many 
 bought only a part of a victim at the shambles — the poor 
 could not even do this. They bought only colored cakes 
 in the shape of beasts, which symbolically took the place 
 of the calves and geese which their means were unable to 
 procure. In the handsomest shops sat servants of the 
 priests, who received forms written on rolls of papyrus 
 which were filled up in the writing-room of the temple 
 with those sacred verses which the departed spirit must 
 know and repeat to ward off the evil genius of the 
 deep, to open the gate of the under-world, and to be held 
 righteous before Osiris and the forty- two assessors of th^e 
 subterranean court of justice. 
 
 What took place within the temples was concealed from 
 view, for each was surrounded by a high inclosing wall 
 with lofty, carefully-closed portals, which were only 
 opened when a chorus of priests came out to sing a pious 
 hymn, in the morning to Horus the rising god, and in 
 the evening to Tum the descending god.* 
 
 As soon as the evening hymn of the priests was heard, 
 the Necropolis was deserted, for the mourners and those 
 who were visiting the graves were required by this time 
 to return to their boats and to quit the City of the Dead. 
 Crowds of men who had marched in the processions of 
 the west bank hastened in disorder to the shore, driven on 
 by the body of watchmen who took it in turns to do this 
 duty and to protect the graves against robbers. The mer- 
 chants closed their booths, the embalmers and workmen 
 ended their day's work and retired to their houses, the 
 priests returned to the temples, and the inns were filled 
 with guests, who had come hither on long pilgrimages 
 from a distance, and who preferred passing the night in 
 
 * The course of the Sun was compared to that of the life of Man. He 
 rose as the child Horus, grew by midday to the hero Ra, who con- 
 quered the Uraeus snake for his diadem, and by evening was an old Man, 
 Turn. Light had been bom of darkness, hence Tum \<ras r^^ar^ed 9/$ 
 Qlde^ thau HqTu^i and t^^ other i^ods of %j^t. 
 
UARDA. 13 
 
 the vicinity of the dead whom they had come to visit, to 
 going across to the bustling noisy city on the further shore. 
 
 The voices of the singers and of the wailing women were 
 hushed, even the song of the sailors on the numberless 
 ferry-boats from the western shore to Thebes died away, 
 its faint echo was now and then borne across on the even- 
 ing air, and at last all was still. 
 
 A cloudless sky spread over the silent City of the Dead, 
 now and then darkened for an instant by the swiftly pass- 
 ing shade of a bat returning to its home in a cave or cleft 
 of the rock after flying the whole evening near the Nile to 
 catch flies, to drink, and so prepare itself for the next 
 day's sleep. From time to time black forms with long 
 shadows glided over the still illuminated plain — the jack- 
 als who at this hour frequented the shore to slake their 
 thirst, and often fearlessly showed themselves in troops in 
 the vicinity of the pens of geese and goats. 
 
 It was forbidden to hunt these robbers as they were ac- 
 counted sacred to the god Anubis,* the tutelary of sepul- 
 chers, and indeed they did little mischief, for they found 
 abundant food in the tombs. 
 
 The remnants of the meat-offerings from the altars were 
 consumed by them ; to the perfect satisfaction of the devo- 
 tees, who, when they found that by the following day the 
 meat had disappeared, believed that it had been accepted 
 and taken away by the spirits of the under-world. 
 
 They also did the duty of trusty watchers, for they were 
 a dangerous foe for any intruder who, under the shadow 
 of the night, might attempt to violate a grave. 
 
 Thus — on that summer evening of the year 1352 b. c, 
 when we invite the reader to accompany us to the Necrop- 
 olis of Thebes — after the priests' hymn had died away, 
 all was still in the City of the Dead. 
 
 The soldiers on guard were already returning from their 
 first round when suddenly, on the north side of the Necrop- 
 olis, a dog barked loudly ; soon a second took up the cry, 
 
 ♦The jackal-headed god Anubis was the son of Osiris and Nephthys, 
 and the jackal was sacred to him. In the earliest ages even he is promi- 
 nent in the nether world. He conducts the mummifying process, pre- 
 serves the corpse, guards the Necropolis, and, as Hermes Psychopompoa 
 (Hermanubis), opens the way for the souls. According to Plutarch 
 •• He is the watch of the gods, as the dog is the watch of men." 
 
14 UARDA. 
 
 a third, a fourth. The captain of the watch called to his 
 men to halt, and, as the cry of the dogs spread and grew 
 louder every minute, commanded them to march toward 
 the north. 
 
 The little troop had reached the high dyke which divided 
 the west bank of the Nile from a branch canal, and looked 
 from thence over the plain as far as the river and to the 
 north of the Necropolis. Once more the word to "halt" 
 was given, and as the guard perceived the glare of torches 
 in the direction where the dogs were barking loudest, they 
 hurried forward and came up with the author of the dis- 
 turbance near the Pylon* of the temple erected by Seti I, 
 the deceased father of the reigning King Rameses II. 
 
 The moon was up, and her pale light flooded the stately 
 structure, while the walls glowed with the ruddy smoky 
 light of the torches which flared in the hands of black 
 attendants. 
 
 A man of sturdy build, in sumptuous dress, was knock- 
 ing at the brass-covered temple door with the metal handle 
 of a whip, so violently that the blows rang far and loud 
 through the night. Near him stood a litter, and a chariot, 
 to which were harnessed two fine horses. In the litter sat 
 a young woman, and in the carriage, next to the driver, 
 was the tall figure of a lady. Several men of the upper 
 classes and many servants stood round the litter and the 
 chariot. Few words were exchanged ; the whole atten- 
 tion of the strangely lighted group seemed concentrated 
 on the temple gate. The darkness concealed the features 
 of individuals, but the mingled light of the moon and the 
 torches was enough to reveal to the gate-keeper, who 
 looked down on the party from a tower of the Pylon, that 
 it was composed of persons of the highest rank ; nay, 
 perhaps of the royal family. 
 
 He called aloud to the one who knocked, and asked him 
 what was his will. 
 
 He looked up, and in a voice so rough and imperious, 
 that the lady in the litter shrank in horror as its tones 
 suddenly violated the place of the dead, he cried out : 
 ** How long are we to wait here for you, you dirty hound ? 
 Come down and open the door and then ask questions. 
 
 *The two pyramidal towers joined by a gateway which formed the en- 
 trance to an Egyptian temple were called the Pyloa. 
 
UARDA. 15 
 
 If the torch-light is not bright enough to show you who is 
 waiting, I will score our name on your shoulders with my 
 whip, and teach you how to receive princely visitors. *' 
 
 While the porter muttered an unintelligible answer and 
 came down the steps within to open the door, the lady in the 
 chariot turned to her impatient companion and said, in a 
 pleasant but yet decided voice: ''You forget, Paaker, 
 that you are back again in Egypt, and that here you have 
 to deal not with the wild schasu,* but with friendly priests 
 of whom we have to solicit a favor. We have always had 
 to lament your roughness, which seems to me very ill- 
 suited to be the unusual circumstances under which we 
 approach this sanctuary." 
 
 Although these words were spoken in a tone rather of 
 regret than of blame, they wounded the sensibilities of the 
 person addressed ; his wide nostrils began to twitch omi- 
 nously, he clenched his right hand over the handle of his 
 whip, and while he seemed to be bowing humbly, he struck 
 such a heavy blow on the bare leg of a slave who was stand- 
 ing near to him, an old Ethiopian, that he shuddered as 
 if from sudden cold, though — knowing his lord only too 
 well — he let no cry of pain escape him. Meanwhile the 
 gate-keeper had opened the door, and with him a tall 
 young priest stepped out into the open air to ask the will 
 of the intruders. 
 
 Paaker would have seized the opportunity of speaking, 
 but the lady in the chariot interposed and said : 
 
 " I am Bent-Anat, the daughter of the King, and this 
 lady in the litter is Nefert, the wife of the noble Mena, the 
 charioteer of my father. We were going in company with 
 these gentlemen to the north-west valley of the Necropolis 
 to see the new works there. You know the narrow pass 
 in the rocks which leads up the gorge. On the way home 
 I myself held the reins and I had the misfortune to drive 
 over a girl who sat by the road with a basket full of flowers, 
 and to hurt her — to hurt her very badly I am afraid. The 
 wife of Mena with her own hands bound up the child, and 
 then we carried her to her father's house — he is a paras- 
 chitesf — Pinem is his name. I know not whether he is 
 known to you." 
 
 * A Semitic race of robbers in the east of Egypt, 
 t One who opened the bodies of the dead to prepare them for being 
 «mbalmed. 
 
l6 UARDA. 
 
 "Thou hast been into his house, princess?" 
 
 "Indeed, I was obliged, holy father," she replied. "I 
 know of course that I have defiled myself by crossing the 
 threshold of these people, but " 
 
 "But," cried the wife of Men a, raising herself in her 
 litter, " Bent-Anat can in a day be purified by thee or by 
 her house-priest, while she can hardly — or perhaps never — 
 restore the child whole and sound again to the unhappy 
 father." 
 
 • * Still the den of a paraschites is above everything un- 
 clean," interrupted the chamberlain Penbesa, master of the 
 ceremonies to the princess, the wife of Mena, " and I did 
 not conceal my opinion when Bent-Anat announced her 
 intention of visiting the accursed hole in person. I sug- 
 gested," he continued, turning to the priest, "that she 
 should let the girl be taken home, and send a royal present 
 to the father." 
 
 "And the princess } " asked the priest. 
 
 "She acted, as she always does, on her own judgment," 
 replied the master of the ceremonies. 
 
 "And that always hits on the right course," cried the 
 wife of Mena. 
 
 "Would to God it were so ! " said the princess in a sub- 
 dued voice. Then she continued, addressing the priest, 
 "Thou knowest the will of the gods and the hearts 
 of men, holy father, and I myself know that I give alms 
 willingly and help the poor even when there is none to 
 plead for them but their poverty. But after what has oc- 
 curred here, and to these unhappy people, it is I who come 
 as a suppliant." 
 
 "Thou ? " said the chamberlain. 
 
 "I," answered the princess, with decision. The priest, 
 who up to this moment had remained a silent witness of 
 the scene, raised his right hand as in blessing and 
 spoke. 
 
 "Thou hast done well. The Hathors, fashioned thy 
 heart* and the Lady of Truth guides it. Thou hast 
 
 * Hathor was Isis under a substantial form. She is the goddess of 
 the pure, light heaven, and bears the Sun-disk between cow-horns on a 
 cow's head, or on a human head with cow's ears. She was named 
 the Fair, and all the pure joys of life are in her gift. Later she was re- 
 mirded as a muse who beautifies life with enjoyment, love, song, and 
 tne dance. She appears as a good fairy by the cradle of children and 
 
UARDA. 17 
 
 6roken in on our night-prayers to request us to send a 
 doctor to the injured girl? " 
 
 **Thou hast said." 
 
 ** I will ask the high-priest to send the best leech for 
 outward wounds immediately to the child. But where is 
 the house of the paraschites Pinem ? I do not know it." 
 
 ** Northward from the terrace of Hatasu, close to 
 
 But I will charge one of my attendants to conduct the 
 leech. Besides, I want to know early in the morning 
 how the child is doing. Paaker." 
 
 The rough visitor, whom we already know, thus called 
 upon, bowed to the earth, his arms hanging by his sides, 
 and asked : 
 
 *'What dost thou command ? " 
 
 *' I appoint you guide to the physician," said the prin- 
 cess. *Mt will be easy to the king's pioneer * to find the 
 little half-hidden house again — besides, you share my 
 guilt, for," she added, turning to the priest, "I confess 
 that the misfortune happened because I would try with 
 my horse to overtake Paaker's Syrian racer, which he 
 declared to be swifter than the Egyptian horses. It was 
 a mad race. " 
 
 **And Amon be praised that it ended as it did," ex- 
 claimed the master of the ceremonies. ** Paaker's chariot 
 lies dashed in pieces in the valley, and his best horse is 
 badly hurt." 
 
 '*He will see to him when he has taken the physician 
 to the house of the paraschites, " said the princess. * * Dost 
 thou know, Penbesa — thou anxious guardian of a thought- 
 less girl — that to-day for the first time I am glad that my 
 father is at the war in distant Satiland ? "f 
 
 '' He would not have welcomed us kindly 1 " said the 
 master of the ceremonies, laughing. 
 
 * * But the leech, the leech I " cried Bent-Anat. * ' Paaker, 
 it is settled then. You will conduct him, and bring us 
 to-morrow morning news of the wounded girl." 
 
 decides their lot in life. She bears many names; and several, generally 
 seven, Hathors were represented, who personified the attributes and in- 
 fluence of the goddess. 
 
 ♦The title here rendered pioneer was that of an officer whose duties 
 were those at once of a scout and of a Quartermaster-General. In un- 
 known and comparatively savage countries it was an onerous post.— 
 Translator, Asia. 
 
 a 
 
i8 UARDA. 
 
 Paitker bowed ; the princess bowed her head ; the priest 
 and his companions, who meanwhile had come out of the 
 temple and joined him, raised their hands in blessing, and 
 the belated procession moved toward the Nile. 
 
 Paaker remained alone with his two slaves ; the com- 
 mission with which the princess had charged him greatly- 
 displeased him. So long as the moonlight enabled him to 
 distinguish the litter of Mena's wife, he gazed after it ; 
 then he endeavored to recollect the position of the hut of 
 the paraschites. The captain of the watch still stood with 
 the guard at the gate of the temple. 
 
 '* Do you know the dwelling of Pin em the paraschites ? " 
 asked Paaker. 
 
 "What do you want with him ? " 
 
 *' That is no concern of yours," retorted Paaker. 
 
 '* Lout ! "exclaimed the captain; *'left face and for- 
 ward, my men." 
 
 ** Halt ! " cried Paaker, in a rage. *'I am the king's 
 chief pioneer. " 
 
 **Then you will all the more easily find the way back 
 by which you came. March." 
 
 The words were followed by a peal of many-voiced 
 laughter ; the re-echoing insult so confounded Paaker that 
 he dropped his whip on the ground. The slave, whom a 
 short time since he had struck with it, humbly picked it 
 up and then followed his lord into the forecourt of the 
 temple. Both attributed the titter, which they still could 
 hear without being able to detect its origin, to wandering 
 spirits. But the mocking tones had been heard too by the 
 old gate-keeper, and the laughers were better known to 
 him than to the king's pioneer ; he strode with heavy steps 
 up to the door of the temple through the black shadow of 
 the Pylon, and striking blindly before him called out : 
 
 **Ah, you good-for-nothing brood of Seth.* You gal- 
 lows-birds and brood of hell — I am coming." 
 
 The giggling ceased ; a few youthful figures appeared 
 in the moonlight ; the old man pursued them panting, and, 
 after a short chase, a troop of youths fled back through the 
 temple gate. 
 
 * The Typhon of the Greeks. The enemy of Osiris, of truth, good 
 and purity. Discord and strife in nature. Horus, who fights against 
 him for his father Osiris, can throw him and stun him, but never annihi- 
 late him. 
 
UARDA. 19 
 
 The door-keeper had succeeded m catching one mis- 
 creant, a boy of thirteen, and held him so tight by the ear 
 that his pretty head seemed to have grown in a horizontal 
 direction from his shoulders, 
 
 " I will take you before the school-master, you plague- 
 of-locusts, you swarm of bats 1 " cried the old man, out of 
 breath. But the dozen of school-boys, who had availed 
 themselves of the opportunity to break out of bounds, 
 gathered coaxing round him, with words of repentance, 
 though every eye sparkled with delight at the fun they 
 had had, and of which no one could deprive them ; and 
 when the biggest of them took the old man's chin, and 
 promised to give him the wine which his mother was to 
 send him next day for the week's use, the porter let go 
 his prisoner — who tried to rub the pain out of his burning 
 ear — and cried out in harsher tones than before : 
 
 '' You will pay me, will you, to let you off! Do you 
 think I will let your tricks pass ? You little know this old 
 man. I will complain to the gods, not to the school- 
 master ; and as for your wine, youngster, I will offer it as 
 a libation, that heaven may forgive you. " 
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 
 The temple where, in the forecourt, Paaker was waiting, 
 and where the priest had disappeared to call the leech, was 
 called the "■ House of Seti," * and was one of the largest in 
 the City of the Dead. Only that magnificent building of 
 the time of the deposed royal race of the reigning king's 
 grandfather — that temple which had been founded by 
 Thotmes IH., and whose gateway Amenophis IH. had 
 adorned with immense colossal statues f — exceeded it in 
 the extent of its plan ; in every other respect it held the 
 pre-eminence among the sanctuaries of the Necropolis. 
 Rameses I. had founded it shortly after his accession, the 
 
 * It is still standing, and known as the temple of Qurnah. 
 ^ The well-known colossal statues, of which that which stands to the 
 north is the famous musical statue, or Pillar of Memnon. 
 
20 UARDA. 
 
 better to secure his possession of the throne of Egypt ; and 
 his yet greater son Seti carried on the erection, in which 
 the service of the dead for the Manes of the members of 
 the new royal family was conducted, and the high festi- 
 vals held in honor of the gods of the under-world. Great 
 sums had been expended for its establishment, for the 
 maintenance of the priesthood of its sanctuary, and the 
 support of the institutions connected with it. These were 
 intended to be equal to the great original foundations of 
 priestly learning at Heliopolis and Memphis ; they were 
 regulated on the same pattern, and with the object of rais- 
 ing the new royal residence of upper Egypt, namely 
 Thebes, above the capitals of lower Egypt in regard to 
 philosophical distinction. 
 
 One of the most important of these foundations was a 
 very celebrated school of learning. First there was the 
 high school, in which priests, physicians, judges, mathe- 
 maticians, astronomers, grammarians, and other learned 
 men, not only had the benefit of instruction, but, subse- 
 quently, when they had won admission to the highest 
 ranks of learning, and attained the dignity of "Scribes," 
 were maintained at the cost of the king, and enabled to 
 pursue their philosophical speculations and researches, in 
 freedom from all care, and in the society of fellow-workers 
 of equal birth and identical interests. 
 
 An extensive library, in which thousands of papyrus- 
 rolls were preserved, and to which a manufactory of papy- 
 rus was attached, was at the disposal of the learned ; and 
 some of them were intrusted with the education of the 
 younger disciples, who had been prepared in the element- 
 ary school, which was also dependent on the House — or 
 university — of Seti. The lower school was open to every 
 son of a free citizen, and was often frequented by several 
 hundred boys, who also found night-quarters there. The 
 parents were of course required either to pay for their 
 maintenance, or to send due supplies of provisions for the 
 keep of their children at school. 
 
 In a separate building lived the temple-boarders, a few 
 sons of the noblest families, who were brought up by the 
 priests at a great expense to their parents. 
 
 Seti I, the founder of this establishment, had had his 
 two son, and successor, Rameses, educated here. 
 
UARDA. ji 
 
 The elementary schools were strictly ruled, and the rod 
 played so large a part m them that a pedagogue could 
 record this saying : " The scholar's ears are at his back ; 
 when he is flogged then he hears. " 
 
 Those youths who wished to pass up from the lower to 
 the high school had to undergo an examination. The 
 student, when he had passed it, could choose a master 
 from among the learned of the higher grades, who under- 
 took to be his philosophical guide, and to whom he re- 
 mained attached all his life through, as a client to his 
 patron. He could obtain the degree of ''Scribe" and 
 qualify for public office by a second examination. 
 
 Near to these schools of learning there stood also a 
 school of art, in which instruction was given to students 
 who desired to devote themselves to architecture, sculpt- 
 ure, or painting ; in these also the learner might choose 
 his master. 
 
 Every teacher in these institutions belonged to the 
 priesthood of the House of Seti. It consisted of more than 
 eight hundred members, divided into five classes, and con- 
 ducted by three so-called prophets. 
 
 The first prophet was the high-priest of the House of 
 Seti, and at the same time the superior of all the thousands 
 of upper and under servants of the divinities which be- 
 longed to the City of the Dead of Thebes. 
 
 The temple of Seti proper was a massive structure of 
 limestone. A row of Sphinxes led from the Nile to the 
 surrounding wall, and to the first vast pro-pylon, which 
 formed the entrance to a broad forecourt inclosed on the 
 two sides by colonnades, and beyond which stood a second 
 gateway. When he had passed through this door, which 
 stood between two towers, in shape like truncated pyra- 
 mids, the stranger came to a second court resembling the 
 first, closed at the farther end by a noble row of pillars, 
 which formed part of the central temple itself. 
 
 The innermost and last was dimly lighted by a few lamps. 
 
 Behind the temple of Seti stood large square structures 
 of brick of the Nile mud, which, however, had a hand- 
 some and decorative effect, as the humble material of 
 which they were constructed was plastered with lime, and 
 that again was painted with colored pictures and hiero- 
 glyphic inscriptions. 
 
22 UARDA. 
 
 The internal arrangement of all these houses was the 
 same. In the midst was an open court, on to which opened 
 the doors of the rooms of the priests and philosophers. 
 On each side of the court was a shady, covered colonnade 
 of wood, and in the midst a tank gay with ornamental 
 plants. In the upper story were the apartments for the 
 scholars ; and instruction was usually given in the paved 
 courtyard strewn with mats. 
 
 The most imposing was the house of the chief prophets ; 
 it was distinguished by its waving standards, and stood 
 about a hundred paces behind the temple of Seti, between 
 a well-kept grove and a clear lake, the sacred tank of the 
 temple ; but they only occupied it while fulfilling their 
 office, while the splendid houses which they lived in with 
 their wives and children lay on the other side of the river, 
 in Thebes proper. 
 
 The untimely visit to the temple could not remain unob- 
 served by the colony of sages. Just as ants, when a hand 
 breaks in on their dwelling, hurry restlessly hither and 
 thither, so an unwonted stir had agitated, not the school- 
 boys only, but the teachers and the priests. They collected 
 in groups near the outer walls, asking questions and hazard- 
 ing guesses. A messenger from the king had arrived — the 
 Princess Bent-Anat had been attacked by the Kolchytes — 
 and a wag among the school-boys, who had got out, de- 
 clared that Paaker, the king's pioneer, had been brought 
 into the temple by force to be made to learn to write better. 
 As the subject of the joke had formerly been a pupil of the 
 House of Seti, and many delectable stories of his errors in 
 penmanship still survived in the memory of the later gen- 
 eration of scholars, this information was received with joy- 
 ful applause ; and it seemed to have a glimmer of proba- 
 bility, in spite of the apparent contradiction that Paaker 
 filled one of the highest offices near the king, when a 
 grave young priest declared that he had seen the pioneer 
 in the forecourt of the temple. 
 
 The lively discussion, the laughter and shouting of the 
 boys at such an unwonted hour, was not unobserved by 
 the chief priest. 
 
 This remarkable prelate, Ameni, the son of Nebket, a 
 scion of an old and noble family, was far more than merely 
 the independent head of the temple-brotherhood, among 
 
UARDA. 23 
 
 whom he was prominent for his power and wisdom ; for 
 all the priesthood in the length and breadth of the land 
 acknowledged his supremacy, asked his advice in difficult 
 cases, and never resisted the decisions in spiritual matters 
 which emanated from the House of Seti — that is to say, 
 from Ameni. He was the embodiment of the priestly 
 idea ; and if at times he made heavy — nay extraordinary — 
 demands on individual fraternities, they were submitted 
 to, for it was known by experience that the indirect roads 
 which he ordered them to follow all converged on one goal, 
 namely, the exaltation of the power and dignity of the 
 hierarchy. The king appreciated this remarkable man, 
 and had long endeavored to attach him to the court, as 
 keeper of the royal seal ; but Ameni was not to be induced 
 to give up his apparently modest position ; for he con- 
 temned all outward show and ostentatious titles ; he ven- 
 tured sometimes to oppose a decided resistance to the 
 measures of the Pharaoh,* and was not minded to give up 
 his unlimited control of the priests for the sake of a lim- 
 ited dominion over what seemed to him petty external 
 concerns, in the service of a king who was only too inde- 
 pendent and hard to influence. 
 
 He regularly arranged his mode and habits of life in an 
 exceptional way. 
 
 Eight days out often he remained in the temple in- 
 trusted to his charge ; two he devoted to his family, who 
 lived on the other bank of the Nile ; but he let no one, not 
 even those nearest to him, know what portion of the ten 
 days he gave up to recreation. He required only four 
 hours of sleep. This he usually took in a dark room 
 which no sound could reach, and in the middle of the day ; 
 never at night, when the coolness and quiet seemed to add 
 to his powers of work, and when from time to time he 
 could give himself up to the study of the starry heavens. 
 
 All the ceremonials that his position required of him, 
 the cleansing, purification, shaving, and fasting, he ful- 
 filled with painful exactitude, and the outer bespoke the 
 inner man. 
 
 * Pharaoh is the Hebrew form of the Egyptian Peraa — or Phrah. 
 '* The great house," "sublime house," or "high gate," is the literal 
 meaning. — Author. 
 
 A remnant of the idea seems to survive in the title, " The Sublime 
 Porte.' ' — Translator, 
 
n 
 
 UARDA. 
 
 Ameni was entering" on his fiftieth year ; his figure was 
 tall, and had escaped altogether the stoutness to which at 
 that age the Oriental is liable. The shape of his smoothly 
 shaven head was symmetrical and of a long oval ; his fore- 
 head was neither broad nor high, but his profile was unu- 
 sually delicate, and his face striking ; his lips were thin and 
 dry, and his large and piercing eyes, though neither fiery 
 nor brilliant, and usually cast down to the ground under 
 his thick eyebrows, were raised with a full, clear, dispas- 
 sionate gaze when it was necessary to see and to examine. 
 
 The poet of the House of Seti, the young Pentaur, who 
 knew these eyes, had celebrated them in song, and 
 had likened them to a well-disciplined army which the 
 general allows to rest before and after the battle, so 
 that they may march in full strength to victory in the 
 •fight. 
 
 The refined deliberateness of his nature had in it much 
 that was royal as well as priestly ; it was partly intrinsic 
 and born with him, partly the result of his own mental 
 self-control. He had many enemies, but calumny seldom 
 dared to attack the high character of Ameni. 
 
 The high-priest looked up in astonishment as the 
 disturbance in the court of his temple broke in on his 
 studies. 
 
 The room in which he was sitting was spacious and 
 cool ; the lower part of the walls was lined with earthen- 
 ware tiles, the upper half plastered and painted. But 
 little was visible of the masterpieces of the artists of the 
 establishment, for almost everywhere they were concealed 
 by wooden closets and shelves, in which were papyrus-rolls 
 and wax tablets. A large table, a couch covered with a 
 panther's skin, a footstool in front of it, and on it a cres- 
 cent-shaped support for the head, made of ivory,* several 
 seats, a stand with beakers and jugs, and another with 
 flasks of all sizes, saucers, and boxes, composed the furni- 
 ture of the room, which was lighted by three lamps, 
 shaped Hke birds and filled with kiki oil.f 
 
 Ameni wore a fine pleated robe of snow-white linen, 
 
 * A support of crescent form on which the Egyptians rested their 
 heads. Many specimens were found in the catacombs, and similar 
 objects are still used in Nubia. 
 
 t Castor oil, which was used in the lamps. 
 
UARDA. 25, 
 
 which reached to his ankles ; round his hips was a scar:f 
 adorned with fringes, which in front formed an apron, 
 with broad, stiffened ends which fell to his knees ; a wide 
 belt of white and silver brocade confined the drapery of 
 his robe. Round his throat and far down on his bare 
 breast hung a necklace more than a span deep, composed 
 of pearls and agates, and his upper arm was covered with 
 broad gold bracelets. He rose from the ebony seat with 
 lion's feet, on which he sat, and beckoned to a servant 
 who squatted by one of the walls of the sitting-room. He 
 rose, and without any word of command from his master, 
 silently and carefully placed on the high-priest's bare head 
 a long and thick curled wig, and threw a leopard skin, 
 with its head and claws overlaid with gold-leaf, over his 
 shoulders. A second servant held a metal mirror before 
 Ameni, in which he cast a look as he settled the panther- 
 skin and head-gear. 
 
 A third servant was handing him the crosier, the in- 
 signia of his dignity as a prelate, when a priest entered 
 and announced the scribe Pentaur. 
 
 Ameni nodded, and the young priest, who had talked 
 with the Princess Bent-Anat at the temple gate came into 
 the room. 
 
 Pentaur knelt and kissed the hand of the prelate, who 
 gave him his blessing, and in a clear, sweet voice, and 
 rather formal and unfamiliar language — as if he were read- 
 ing rather than speaking, said : 
 
 *'Rise, my son ; your visit will save me a walk at this 
 untimely hour, since you can inform me of what disturbs 
 the disciples in our temple. Speak." 
 
 "Little of consequence has occurred, holy father," re- 
 plied Pentaur. *' Nor would I have disturbed thee at this 
 hour, but that a quite unnecessary tumult has been raised 
 by the youths ; and that the Princess Bent-Anat appeared 
 in person to request the aid of a physician. The unusual 
 
 hour and the retinue that followed her " 
 
 "Is the daughter of the Pharaoh sick?" asked the 
 prelate. 
 
 "No, father. She is well — even to wantonness, since 
 — wishing to prove the swiftness of her horse — she ran 
 over the daughter of the paraschites Pinem. Noble-hearted 
 as she is, she herself carried the sorely-wounded |;irl to hei 
 house." 
 
26 UARDA. 
 
 "She entered the dwelling of the unclean I ** 
 
 "Thou hast said." 
 
 " And she now asks to be purified ? " 
 
 "I thought I might venture to absolve her, father, for 
 the purest humanity led her to the act, which was no doubt 
 a breach of discipline, but " 
 
 "But?" asked the high-priest in a grave voice, and he 
 raised his eyes which he had hitherto kept fixed on the 
 ground. 
 
 "But," said the young priest, and now his eyes fell, 
 " which can surely be no crime. When Ra in his golden 
 bark sails across the heavens, his light falls as freely and 
 as bountifully on the hut of the despised poor as on the 
 palace of the Pharaohs ; and shall the tender human heart 
 withhold its pure light — which is benevolence — from the 
 wretched, only because they are base ? " 
 
 "It is the poet Pentaur that speaks," said the prelate, 
 "and not the priest to whom the privilege was given to 
 be initiated into the highest grade of the sages, and whom 
 I call my brother and my equal. I have no advantage 
 over you, young man, but perishable learning, which the 
 past has won for you as much as forme — nothing but cer- 
 tain perceptions and experiences that offer nothing new to 
 the world, but teach us, indeed, that it is our part to maintain 
 all that is ancient in living efficacy and practice. That 
 which you promised a few weeks since, I many years ago 
 vowed to the gods ; to guard knowledge as the exclusive 
 possession of the initiated. Like fire, it serves those who 
 know its uses to the noblest ends, but in the hands of chil- 
 dren — and the people, the mob, can never ripen into man- 
 hood — it is a destroying brand, raging and inextinguish- 
 able, devouring all around it, and destroying all that has 
 been built and beautified by the past. And how can we 
 remain ' the Sages ' and continue to develop and absorb all 
 learning within the shelter of our temples, not only with- 
 out endangering the weak, but for their benefit ? You 
 know and have sworn to act after that knowledge. To 
 bind the crowd to the faith and the institutions of the 
 fathers is your duty — is the duty of every priest. Times 
 have changed, my son ; under the old kings the fire, of 
 which I spoke figuratively to you — the poet — was inclosed 
 \Xk bra^seii walls which the people passed stupidly b^. Now 
 
UARDA. 
 
 27 
 
 I see breaches in the old fortifications ; the eyes of the un- 
 initiated have been sharpened, and one tells the other what 
 he fancies he has spied, though half-blinded, through the 
 glowing rifts. " 
 
 A slight emotion had given energy to the tones of the 
 speaker, and while he held the poet spell-bound with his 
 piercing glance he continued : 
 
 ** We curse and expel any one of the initiated who en- 
 larges these breaches ; we punish even the friend who idly 
 neglects to repair and close them with beaten brass ! " 
 
 ** My father ! " cried Pentaur, raising his head in aston- 
 ishment while the blood mounted to his cheeks. 
 
 The high-priest went up to him and laid both hands on 
 his shoulders. 
 
 They were of equal height and of equally symmetrical 
 build ; even the outline of their features was similar. 
 Nevertheless no one would have taken them to be even 
 distantly related ; their countenances were so infinitely 
 unlike in expression. 
 
 On the face of one were stamped a strong will and the 
 power of firmly guiding his life and commanding himself ; 
 on the other, an amiable desire to overlook the faults and 
 defects of the world, and to contemplate life as it painted 
 itself in the transfiguring magic-mirror of his poet's soul. 
 Frankness and enjoyment spoke in his sparkling eye, but 
 the subtle smile on his lips when he was engaged in a dis- 
 cussion, or when his soul was stirred, betrayed that Pen- 
 taur, far from childlike carelessness, had fought many a 
 severe mental battle, and had tasted the dark waters of 
 doubt. 
 
 At this moment mingled feelings were struggling in his 
 soul. He felt as if he must withstand the speaker ; and yet 
 the powerful presence of the other exercised so strong an 
 influence over his mind, long trained to submission, that 
 he was silent, and a pious thrill passed through him when 
 Ameni's hands were laid on his shoulders. 
 
 ** I blame you," said the high-priest, while he firmly 
 held the young man, *' nay, to my sorrow I must chastise 
 you ; and yet," he said, stepping back and taking his right 
 hand, " I rejoice in the necessity ; for I love you and honor 
 you, as one whom the Unnameable has blessed with high 
 gifts md destined to great things. Man leaves a weed to 
 
28 UARDA. 
 
 grow unheeded or roots it up ; but you are a noble tree, and 
 I am like the gardener who has forgotten to provide it with 
 a prop, and who is now thankful to have detected a bend 
 that reminds him of his neglect. You look at me inquir- 
 ingly, and I can see in your eyes that I seem to you a 
 severe judge. Of what are you accused? — You have suf- 
 fered an institution of the past to be set aside. It does not 
 matter — so the short-sighted and heedless think ; but I 
 say to you : You have doubly transgressed, because the 
 wrong-doer was the king's daughter, whom all look up to, 
 great and small, and whose actions may serve as an ex- 
 ample to the people. On whom then must a breach of the 
 ancient institutions lie with the darkest stain if not on the 
 highest in rank ? In a few days it will be said the paraschites 
 are men even as we are, and the old law to avoid them as 
 unclean is folly. And will the reflections of the people, 
 think you, end there, when it is so easy for them to say that 
 he who errs in one point may as well fail in all ? In questions 
 of faith, my son, nothin-g is insignificant. If we open one 
 tower to the enemy he is master of the whole fortress. In 
 these unsettled times our sacred lore is like a chariot on the 
 declivity of a precipice, and under the wheels thereof a stone. 
 A child takes away the stone, and the chariot rolls down 
 into the abyss and is dashed in pieces. Imagine the 
 princess to be that child, and the stone a loaf that she 
 would fain give to feed a beggar. Would you then give 
 it to her if your father and your mother and all that is 
 dear and precious to you were in the chariot ? Answer 
 not ! the princess will visit the paraschites again to morrow. 
 You must await her in the man's hut, and there inform 
 her that she has transgressed and must crave to be puri- 
 fied by us. For this time you are excused from any further 
 punishment. Heaven has bestowed on you a gifted soul. 
 Strive for that which is wanting to you — the strength to 
 subdue, to crush for One — and you know that One — all 
 things else — even the misguiding voice of your heart, the 
 treacherous voice of your judgment. But stay ! send 
 leeches to the house of the paraschites, and desire them 
 to treat the injured girl as though she were the queen her- 
 self. Who knows where the man dwells ? " 
 
 "The princess," replied Pentaur, "has left Paaker, the 
 king's pioneer, behind in the temple to conduct the leeches 
 tp the house of Pinem." 
 
UARDA. 29 
 
 The grave high-priest smiled and said. Paaker I to 
 attend the daughter of a paraschitcs." 
 
 Pentaur half beseechingly and half in fun raised his 
 eyes which he had kept cast down. " And Pentaur," he 
 murmured, *'the gardener's son I who is to refuse absolu- 
 tion to the king's daughter ! " 
 
 '* Pentaur, the minister of the gods — Pentaur, the priest 
 — has not to do with the daughter of the king, but with 
 the transgressor of the sacred institutions," replied Ameni, 
 gravely. *' Let Paaker know I wish to speak with him." 
 
 The poet bowed low and quitted the room, the high- 
 priest muttered to himself : ' * He is not yet what he should 
 be, and speech is of no effect with him." 
 
 For a while he was silent, walking to and fro in medita- 
 tion ; then he said half aloud : *' And the boy is destined 
 to great things. What gift of the gods does he lack? 
 He has the faculty of learning, of thinking, of feeling, 
 of winning all hearts, even mine. He keeps himself unde- 
 
 filed and separate " suddenly the prelate paused and 
 
 struck his hand on the back of a chair that stood by him. 
 '*I have it ; he has not yet felt the fire of ambition. We 
 will light it, for his profit and our own." 
 
 CHAPTER IIL 
 
 Pentaur hastened to execute the commands of the high- 
 priest. He sent a servant to escort Paaker, who was wait- 
 ing in the forecourt, into the presence of Ameni, while 
 he himself repaired to the physicians to impress on them 
 the most watchful care of the unfortunate girl. 
 
 Many proficients in the healing arts * were brought up 
 in the House of Seti, but few used to remain after passing 
 the examination for the degree of Scribe. The most gifted 
 
 * What is here stated with regard to the medical schools is principally 
 derived from the medical writings of the Egyptians themselves, among 
 which the " Ebers Papyrus " holds the first place, " Medical Papyrus 
 I," of Berlin the second, and a hieratic MS. in London which, like the first 
 mentioned, has come down to us from the i8th dynasty, takes the third 
 Also see Herodotus II. 84. Diodorus I. 82. 
 
3© UARDA. 
 
 were sent to Heliopolis, where flourished, in the great 
 ** Hall of the Ancients," the most celebrated medical fac- 
 ulty of the whole country, whence they returned to Thebes, 
 endowed with the highest honors in surgery, in ocular 
 treatment, or in any other branch of their profession, and 
 became physicans to the king or made a living by impart- 
 ing their learning and by being called in to consult on 
 serious cases. 
 
 Naturally most of the doctors lived on the east bank of 
 the Nile, in Thebes proper, and even in private houses 
 with their families ; but each was attached to a priestly 
 college. 
 
 Whoever required a physician sent for him, not to his 
 own house, but to a temple. There a statement was re- 
 quired of the complaint from which the sick person was 
 suffering, and it was left to the principal of the medical 
 staff of the sanctuary to select that master of the healing 
 art whose special knowledge appeared to him to be suited 
 for the treatment of the case. 
 
 Like all priests, the physicians lived on the income 
 which came to them from their landed property, from the 
 gifts of the king, the contributions of the laity, and the 
 share which was given them of the state-revenues ; they 
 expected no honorarium from tHeir patients, but the re- 
 stored sick seldom neglected making a present to the sanc- 
 tuary whence a physician had come to them, and it was 
 not unusual for the priestly leech to make the recovery of 
 the sufferer conditional on certain gifts to be offered to the 
 temple. 
 
 The medical knowledge of the Egyptians was, according 
 to every indication, very considerable ; but it was natural 
 that physicians, who stood by the bed of sickness as 
 ** ordained servants of the Divinity," should not be satis- 
 fied with a rational treatment of the sufferer, and should 
 rather think that they could not dispense w^ith the mys- 
 tical effects of prayers and vows. 
 
 Among the professors of medicine in the House of Seti 
 there were men of the most different gifts and bent of 
 mind ; but Pentaur was not for a moment in doubt as to 
 which should be intrusted with the treatment of the girl 
 who had been run over, and for whom he felt the greatest 
 sympathy. 
 
UARDA. 31 
 
 The one he chose was the grandson of a celebrated 
 leech, long since dead, whose name of Nebsecht he had 
 inherited, and a beloved school-friend and old comrade of 
 Pentaur. 
 
 This young man had from his earliest years shown high 
 and hereditary talent for the profession to which he had 
 devoted himself ; he had selected surgery* for his special 
 province at Heliopolis, and would certainly have attained 
 the dignity of teacher there if an impediment in his 
 speech had not debarred him from the viva voce recitation 
 of formulas and prayers. 
 
 This circumstance, which was deeply lamented by his 
 parents and tutors, was in fact, in the best opinions, an 
 advantage to him ; for it often happens that apparent 
 superiority does us damage, and that from apparent 
 defect springs the saving of our life. 
 
 Thus while the companions of Nebsecht were employed 
 in declaiming or in singing, he, thanks to his fettered 
 tongue, could give himself up to his inherited and almost 
 passionate love of observing organic life ; and his teachers 
 mdulged up to a certain point his innate spirit of investi- 
 gation, and derived benefit from his knowledge of the 
 human and animal structures, and from the dexterity of 
 his handling. 
 
 His deep aversion to the magical part of his profession 
 would have brought him heavy punishment, nay very 
 likely would have cost him expulsion from the craft, if he 
 had ever given it expression in any form. But Neb- 
 secht's was the silent and reserved nature of the learned 
 man, who, free from all desire of external recognition, 
 finds a rich satisfaction in the delights of investigation ; 
 and he regarded every demand on him to give proof of his 
 capacity as a vexatious but unavoidable intrusion on his 
 unassuming but laborious and fruitful investigations. 
 
 Nebsecht was nearer and dearer to Pentaur than any 
 other of his associates. 
 
 He admired his learning and skill ; and when the 
 slightly-built surgeon, who was indefatigable in his wan- 
 
 * Among the six hermetic books of medicine mentioned by Clement, 
 of Alexandria, was one devoted to surgical instruments; otherwise the 
 very badly-set fractures found in some of the mummies do little honof 
 to the Egyptian surgeons. 
 
32 UARDA. 
 
 derings, roved through the thickets of the Nile, the desert, 
 or the mountain range, the young poet-priest accompanied 
 him with pleasure and with great benefit to himself, for his 
 compani )n observed a thousand things to which without 
 him hid would have remained forever blind ; and the ob- 
 jects around him, which were known to him only by their 
 shapes, derived connection and significance from the 
 explanations of the naturalist, whose intractable tongue 
 moved freely when it was required to expound to his friend 
 the peculiarities of organic beings whose development he" 
 had been the first to detect. 
 
 The poet was dear in the sight of Nebsecht, and he 
 loved Pentaur, who possessed all the gifts he lacked; 
 manly beauty, childlike lightness of heart, the frankest 
 openness, artistic power, and the gift of expressing in 
 X^ord and song every emotion that stirred his soul. 
 
 The poet was as a novice in the order in which Nebsecht 
 was master, but quite capable of understanding its most 
 difficult points ; so it happened that Nebsecht attached 
 greater value to his judgment than to that of his own 
 colleagues, who showed themselves fettered by prejudice, 
 while Pentaur's decision always was free and unbiased. 
 
 The naturalist's room lay on the ground floor, and had 
 no living rooms above it, being under one of the granaries 
 attached to the temple. It was as large as a public hall, 
 and yet Pentaur, making his way toward the silent owner 
 of the room, found it everywhere strewed with thick bun- 
 dles of every variety of plant, with cages of palm-twigs 
 piled four or five feet high, and a number of jars, large 
 and small, covered with perforated paper. Within these 
 prisons moved all sorts of living creatures, from the jerboa, 
 the lizard of the Nile, and a light-colored species of owl, 
 to numerous specimens of frogs, snakes, scorpions and 
 beetles. 
 
 On the solitary table in the middle of the room, near 
 to a writing-stand, lay bones of animals, with various 
 sharp flints and bronze knives. 
 
 In a corner of this room lay a mat, on which stood a 
 wooden head-prop, indicating that the naturalist was in 
 the habit of sleeping on it. 
 
 When Pentaur's step was heard on the threshold of this 
 strange abode, its owner pushed a rather large object 
 
UARDA. 33 
 
 under the table, threw a cover over it, and hid a sharp 
 flint scalpel * fixed into a wooden handle, which he had 
 just been using, in the folds of his robe — as a school-boy 
 might hide some forbidden game from his master. Then 
 he crossed his arms, to give himself the aspect of a man 
 who is dreaming in harmless idleness. 
 
 The solitary lamp, which was fixed on a high stand near 
 his chair, shed a scanty light, which, however, sufficed to 
 show him his trusted friend Pentaur, who had disturbed 
 Nebsecht in his prohibited occupations. Nebsecht nodded 
 to him as he entered, and, when he had seen who it was, 
 said : 
 
 **You need not have frightened me sol" Then he 
 drew out from under the table the object he had hidden — 
 a living rabbit fastened down to a board — and continued 
 his interrupted observations on the body, which he had 
 opened and fastened back with wooden pins while the 
 heart continued to beat. 
 
 He took no further notice of Pentaur, who for some 
 time silently watched the investigator ; then he laid his 
 hand on his shoulder and said : 
 
 ''Lock your door more carefully when you are busy 
 with forbidden things. " 
 
 "They took — they took away the bar of the door 
 lately," stammered the naturalist, *' when they caught me 
 dissecting the hand of the forger Ptahmes, " 
 
 "The mummy of the poor man will find its right hand 
 wanting," answered the poet. 
 
 " He will not want it out there." 
 
 " Did you bury the least bit of an image in his grave ? " 
 
 "Nonsense ! " 
 
 "You go very far, Nebsecht, and are not foreseeing. 
 "He who needlessly hurts an innocent animal shall be 
 rserved in the same way by the spirits of the nether- world,' 
 •says the law ; but I see what you will say. You hold it 
 .lawful to put a beast to pain, when you can thereby in- 
 crease that knowledge by which you alleviate the suffer- 
 ings of man, and enrich " 
 
 * The Egyptians seem to have preferred to use flint instruments for 
 surgical purposes, at any rate for the opening of bodies and for circum- 
 cision. Many flint instruments have been found and preserved in 
 museums. 
 
 3 
 
34 UARDA. 
 
 '* And do not you ? *' 
 
 A gentle smile passed over Pentaur's face ; he leaned 
 over the animal and said : 
 
 ** How curious ! the little beast still lives and breathes ; 
 a man would have long been dead under such treatment. 
 His organism is perhaps of a more precious, subtle, and 
 so more fragile nature ?" 
 
 Nebsecht shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 * ' Perhaps ! " he said. 
 
 " I thought you must know." 
 
 *'I — how should I?" asked the leech. *'Ihave told 
 you — they would not even let me try to find out how the 
 hand of a forger moves. " 
 
 ''Consider, the Scripture tells us the passage of the soul 
 depends on the preservation of the body." 
 
 Nebsecht looked up with his cunning little eyes, and 
 shrugging his shoulders, said : 
 
 ''Then no doubt it is so ; however, these things do not 
 concern me. Do what you like with the souls of men ; I 
 seek to know something of their bodies, and patch them 
 when they are damaged as well as may be.*' 
 
 "Nay — Toth* be praised, at least you need not deny 
 that you are master in that art. " 
 
 "Who is master," asked Nebsecht, "excepting God? 
 I can do nothing, nothing at all, and guide my instruments 
 with hardly more certainty than a sculptor condemned to 
 work in the dark. " 
 
 " Something like the blind Resu then," said Pentaur, 
 smiling, "who understood painting better than all the 
 painters who could see." 
 
 " In my operations there is a * better' and a * worse ; *" 
 said Nebsecht, " but there is nothing ' good.' " 
 
 "Then we must be satisfied with the ' better,' and I have 
 come to claim it," said Pentaur. 
 
 * Toth is the god of the learned and of physicians. The Ibis was 
 sacred to him, and he was usually represented as Ibis-headed. Ra 
 created him "a beautiful light to show the name of his evil enemy." 
 Originally the Moon-god, he became the lord of time and measure. He 
 is the weigher, the philosopher among the gods, the lord of writing, of 
 art and of learning. The Greeks called him Hermes Trismegistos, /. f., 
 threefold or " very great," which was, in fact, in imitation of the Egypt- 
 ians, whose name Toth or Techuti signified twofold, in the same way 
 ** very great.*' 
 
 I 
 I 
 
"Are you ill?" 
 
 **Isis be praised, I feel so well that I could uproot a 
 palm-tree, but I would ask you to visit a sick girl. The 
 Princess Bent-Anat " 
 
 "The royal family has its own physicians." 
 
 **Let me speak ! the Princess Bent-Anat has run over a 
 young girl, and the poor child is seriously hurt." 
 
 ** Indeed," said the student, reflectively. ** Is she over 
 there in the city, or here in the Necropolis ? " 
 
 ''Here. She is in fact the daughter of a paraschites. " 
 
 " Of a paraschites .? " exclaimed Nebsecht, once more 
 slipping the rabbit under the table, "then I will go." 
 
 *'You strange fellow. I believe you expect to find 
 something strange among the unclean folk." 
 
 '* That is my affair ; but I will go. What is the man's 
 name ? " 
 
 **Pinem." 
 
 ''There will be nothing to be done with him," muttered 
 the student, " however — who knows ? " 
 
 With these words he rose, and opening a tightly closed 
 flask he dropped some strychnine* on the nose and in the 
 mouth of the rabbit, which immediately ceased to breathe. 
 
 Then he laid it in a box and said, " I am ready." 
 
 "But you cannot go out of doors in this stained dress." 
 
 The physician nodded assent, and took from a chest a 
 clean robe, which he was about to throw on over the other ; 
 but Pentaur hindered him. " First take off your work- 
 ing dress," he said, laughing. " I will help you. But by 
 Besa, f you have as many coats as an onion." 
 
 Pentaur was known as a mighty laugher among his com- 
 panions, and his loud voice rung in the quiet room, when 
 he discovered that his friend was about to put a third clean 
 robe over two dirty ones, and wear no less than three 
 dresses at once. 
 
 Nebsecht laughed too, and said, " Now I know why my 
 clothes were so heavy, and felt so intolerably hot at noon. 
 While I get rid of my superfluous clothing, will you go and 
 ask the high-priest if I have leave to quit the temple." 
 
 * Strychnine was a poison well known to the Egyptians. 
 
 t The god of the toilet of the Egyptians. He was represented as a 
 deformed pigmy. He led the women to conquest in love, and the men 
 in war. He was probably of Arab origin. 
 
36 UARDA. 
 
 '* He commissioned me to send a leech to the paraschites, 
 and added that the girl was to be treated like a queen. " 
 
 *' Ameni ! and did he know that we have to do with a 
 paraschites ? " 
 
 *' Certainly." 
 
 ** Then I shall begin to believe that broken limbs may- 
 be set with vows — ay, vows ! You know I cannot go alone 
 to the sick, because my leather tongue is unable to recite 
 the sentences or to wring rich offerings for the temple from 
 the dying. Go, while I undress, to the prophet Gagabu 
 and beg him to send the pastophorus Teta, who usually 
 accompanies me." 
 
 "I would seek a young assistant rather than that blind 
 old man." 
 
 * ' Not at all. I should be glad if he would stay at home, 
 and only let his tongue creep after me like an eel or a slug. 
 Head and heart have nothing to do with his wordy opera- 
 tions, and they go on like an ox treading out corn."* 
 
 " It is true," said Pentaur ; "just lately I saw the old 
 man singing out his litanies by a sick bed, and all the time 
 quietly counting the dates, of which they had given him a 
 whole sack-full." 
 
 *' He will be unwilling to go to the paraschites, who is 
 poor, and he would sooner seize the whole brood of scor- 
 pions yonder than take a piece of bread from the hand of 
 the unclean. Tell him to come and fetch me, and drink 
 some wine. There stands three days' allowance ; in this 
 hot weather it dims my sight Does the paraschites live to 
 the north or south of the Necropolis ? " 
 
 "1 think to the north. Paaker, the king's pioneer, will 
 show you the way." 
 
 *' He ! " exclaimed the student, laughing. *' What day 
 in the calendar is this, then ? f The child of a paraschites 
 is to be tended like a princess, and a leech have a noble to 
 
 * In Egypt, as in Palestine, beasts trod out the com, as we learn from 
 many pictures in the catacombs, even in the remotest ages; often with 
 the addition of a weighted sledge, to the runners of which rollers are 
 attached. It is now called nore^. 
 
 t Calendars have been preserved; the completestis the papyrus Sallier 
 IV. which has been admirably treated by F. Chabas. Many days are 
 noted as lucky, unlucky, etc. In the temples many Calendars of feast 
 have been found, the most perfect at Medinet Abu, deciphered 
 Diimich. 
 
UARDA. 37 
 
 guide him, like the Pharaoh himself 1 I ought to have 
 kept on my three robes I " 
 
 ** The night is warm," said Pentaur. 
 
 * ' But Paaker has strange ways with him. Only the day 
 before yesterday I was called to a poor boy whose collar- 
 bone he had simply smashed with a stick. If I had been 
 the princess' horse I would rather have trodden him down 
 than a poor little girl. " 
 
 *'So would I," said Pentaur, laughing, and left the room 
 to request the second prophet Gagabu, who was also the 
 head of the medical staff of the House of Seti, to send the 
 blind pastophorus * Teta, with his friend, as singer of the 
 litany. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Pentaur knew where to seek Gagabu, for he himself had 
 been invited to the banquet which the prophet had pre- 
 pared in honor of two sages who had lately come to the 
 House of Seti from the university of Chennu.t 
 
 In an open court, surrounded by gayly-painted wooden 
 pillars, and lighted by many lamps, sat the feasting priests 
 in two long rows on comfortable arm-chairs. Before each 
 sAood a little table, and servants were occupied in supply- 
 ing them with the dishes and drinks, which were laid out 
 on a splendid table in the middle of the court. Joints of 
 gazelle,! roast geese and ducks, meat pasties, artichokes, 
 asparagus and other vegetables, and various cakes and 
 sweetmeats were carried to the guests, and their beakers 
 well filled with the choice wines of which there was never 
 any lack in the lofts of the House of Seti.§ In the 
 
 * The Pastophori were an order of priests to which the physicians be- 
 longed. 
 
 t Chennu was situated on a bend of the Nile, not far from the Nubian 
 frontier; it is now called Gebel Silsileh; it was in very ancient times the 
 seat of a celebrated seminary. 
 
 X Gazelles were tamed for domestic animals; we find them in the re- 
 presentations of the herds of the wealthy Egyptians and as slaughtered 
 for food. The banquet is described from tne pictures of feasts which 
 h>.ve been found in the tombs. 
 
 § Cellars maintain the mean temperature of the climate, and in Egypt 
 aie hot. Wine is best preserved in shady and airy lofts. 
 
38 UARDA. 
 
 spaces between the guests stood servants with metal bowls, 
 in which they might wash their hands, and towels of fine 
 linen. 
 
 When their hunger was appeased, the wine flowed more 
 freely, and each guest was decked with sweetly-smelling 
 flowers, whose odor was supposed to add to the vivacity of 
 the conversation. 
 
 Many of the sharers in this feast wore long, snow-white 
 garments, and were of the class of the Initiated into the 
 mysteries of the faith, as well as chiefs of the different 
 orders of priests of the House of Seti. 
 
 The second prophet, Gagabu, who was to-day charged 
 with the conduct of the feast by Ameni — who on such oc- 
 casions only showed himself for a few minutes — was a 
 short, stout man with a bald and almost spherical head. 
 His features were those of a man of advancing years, but 
 well formed, and his smoothly-shaven, plump cheeks were 
 well rounded. His gray eyes looked out cheerfully and 
 observantly, but had a vivid sparkle when he was excited, 
 and began to twitch his thick, sensual mouth. 
 
 Close by him stood the vacant, highly-ornamented chair 
 of the high-priest, and next to him sat the priests arrived 
 from Chennu, two tall, dark-colored old men. The re- 
 mainder of the company was arranged in the order of 
 precedency, which they held in the priests' colleges, and 
 which bore no relation to their respective ages. 
 
 But strictly as the guests were divided with reference to 
 their rank, they mixed without distinction in the conver- 
 sation. 
 
 "We know how to value our call to Thebes," said the 
 elder of the strangers from Chennu, Tuauf, whose essays 
 were frequently used in the schools ; ' ' for while, on one 
 hand, it brings us into the neighborhood of the Pharaoh, 
 where life, happiness, and safety flourish, on the other it 
 procures us the honor of counting ourselves among your 
 number ; for, though the university of Chennu in former 
 times was so happy as to bring up many great men, whom 
 she could call her own, she can no longer compare with 
 the House of Seti. Even Heliopolis and Memphis are 
 behind you ; and if I, my humble self, nevertheless ven- 
 ture boldly among you, it is because I ascribe your suc- 
 cess as much to the active influence of the Divinity in 
 
UARDA. 39 
 
 your temple, which may promote my acquirements and 
 achievements, as to your great gifts and your industry, in 
 which I will not be behind you. I have already seen 
 your high-priest Ameni— what a man ! And who does not 
 know thy name, Gagabu, or thine, Meriapu ? " 
 
 ** And which of you," asked the other new-comer, " may 
 we greet as the author of the most beautiful hymn to 
 Amon, which was ever sung in the land of the Sycamore ? 
 Which of you is Pentaur? " 
 
 "The empty chair yonder," answered Gagabu, pointing 
 to a seat at the lower end of the table, *' is his. He is the 
 youngest of us all, but a great future awaits him." 
 
 "And his songs," added the elder of the strangers. 
 
 ''Without doubt," replied the chief of the haruspices.. 
 an old man with a large gray curly head, that seemed too 
 heavy for his thin neck, which stretched forward — per- 
 haps from the habit of constantly watching for signs — while 
 his prominent eyes glowed w4th a fanatical gleam. ' ' With- 
 out doubt the gods have granted great gifts to our young 
 friend ; but it remains to be proved how he will use them. 
 I perceive a certain freedom of thought in the youth, 
 which pains me deeply. Although in his poems his flexi- 
 ble style certainly follows the prescribed forms, his ideas 
 transcend all tradition, and even in the hymns intended 
 for the ears of the people I find turns of thought, which 
 might well be called treason to the mysteries which only a 
 few months ago he swore to keep secret. For instance he 
 says — and we sing — and the laity hear — 
 
 " One only art Thou, Thou Creator of beings ; 
 And Thou only makest all that is created. 
 
 And again — 
 
 " He is one only. Alone, without equal; 
 Dwelling alone in the holiest of holies." * 
 
 " Such passages as these ought not to be sung in public, 
 at least in times like ours, when new ideas come in upon 
 us from abroad, like the swarms of locusts from the 
 East." 
 
 " Spoken to my very soul ! " cried the treasurer of the 
 temple; "Ameni initiated this boy too early into the 
 mysteries. " 
 
 * Hymn to Amon preserved in a papyrus-roll at Bulaq, and deciphered 
 by Grebaut and L. Stem. 
 
40 UARDA. 
 
 "In my opinion, and I am his teacher," said Gagabu, 
 ''our brotherhood may be proud of a member who adds 
 so brilHantly to the fame of our temple. The people hear 
 the hymns without looking closely at the meaning of the 
 words. I never saw the congregation more devout than 
 when the beautiful and deeply-felt song of praise was sung 
 at the feast of the stairs. * 
 
 "Pentaur was always thy favorite," said the former 
 speaker. **Thou wouldst not permit in any one else 
 many things that are allowed to him. His hymns are 
 nevertheless to me and to many others a dangerous per- 
 formance, and canst thou dispute the fact that we have 
 grounds for grave anxiety, and that things happen and 
 circumstances grow up around us which hinder us, and 
 at last may perhaps crush us, if we do not, while there is 
 yet time, inflexibly oppose them ? " 
 
 "Thou bringest sand to the desert, and sugar to sprinkle 
 over honey," exclaimed Gagabu, and his lips began to 
 twitch. "Nothing is now as it ought to be, and there will 
 be a hard battle to fight ; not with the sword, but with this 
 — and this. " And the impatient man touched his forehead 
 and his lips. "And who is there more competent than 
 my disciple ? There is the champion of our cause, a second 
 cap of Hor, that overthrew the evil one with winged sun- 
 beams, and you come ahd would clip his wings and biuret 
 his claws ! Alas, alas, my lords ! will you never understand 
 that a lion roars louder than a cat, and the sun shines 
 brighter than an oil-lamp ? Let Pentaur alone, I say ; or 
 you will do as the man did, who, for fear of the toothache?, 
 had his sound teeth drawn. Alas, alas ! in the years to 
 come we shall have to bite deep into the flesh, till the 
 blood flows, if we wish to escape being eaten up our- 
 selves ! " 
 
 "The enemy is not unknown to us also," said the elder 
 priest from Chennu, " although we, on the remote southern 
 frontier of the kingdom, have escaped many evils that in 
 the north have eaten into our body like a cancer. Here 
 foreigners are now hardly looked upon at all as unclean 
 and devilish. " | 
 
 * A particularly solemn festival in honor of Amon-Chem, held in tho 
 temple of Medinet-Abu. 
 
 t " Typhonisch," belonging to Typhon or Seth. — Translator, 
 
UARDA. 41 
 
 ** Hardly ? " exclaimed the chief of the haruspices ; "they 
 are invited, caressed, and honored. Like dust, when the 
 simoon blows through the chinks of a wooden house, they 
 crowd into the houses and temples, taint our manners and 
 language ; nay, on the throne of the successors of Ra sits 
 a descendant " 
 
 ' ' Presumptuous man I " cried the voice of the high- 
 priest, who at this instant entered the hall. " Hold your 
 tongue, and be not so bold as to wag it against him who 
 is our king, and wields the scepter in this kingdom as the 
 Vicar of Ra." 
 
 The speaker bowed and was silent ; then he and all the 
 company rose to greet Ameni, who bowed to them all with 
 polite dignity, took his seat, and turning to Gagabu asked 
 him carelessly : 
 
 **I find you all in most unpriestly excitement ; what 
 has disturbed your equanimity ? " 
 
 ** We were discussing the overwhelming influx of for- 
 eigners into Egypt, and the necessity of opposing some 
 resistance to them." 
 
 *' You will find me one of the foremost in the attempt," 
 replied Ameni. "We have endured much already, and 
 news has arrived from the north which grieves me deeply. *' 
 
 " Have our troops sustained a defeat ? " 
 
 "They continue to be victorious, but thousands of our 
 countrymen have fallen victims in the fight or on the 
 march. Rameses demands fresh reinforcements. The 
 pioneer, Paaker, has brought me a letter from our brethren 
 who accompany the king, and delivered a document from 
 him to the Regent, which contains the order to send to 
 him fifty thousand fighting men ; and as the whole of the 
 soldier-caste and all the auxiliaries are already under arms, 
 the bondsmen of the temple, who till our acres, are to be 
 levied, and sent into Asia." 
 
 A murmur of disapproval arose at these words. The 
 chief of the haruspices stamped his foot, and Gagabu 
 asked : 
 
 * * What do you mean to do .? " 
 
 "To prepare to obey the commands of the king," an- 
 swered Ameni, "and to call the heads of the temples of 
 the city of Amon here without delay to hold a council. 
 J^ach must first in his holy of holies seek ^ood couyisel of 
 
42 UARDA. 
 
 the Celestials. When we have come to a conclusion, \^e 
 must next win the Viceroy over to our side. Who yester- 
 day assisted at his prayers ? " 
 
 ** It was my turn," said the chief of the haruspices. 
 
 ** Follow me to my abode when the meal is over," com- 
 manded Ameni. " But why is our poet missing from our 
 circle?" 
 
 At this moment Pentaur came into the hall, and while 
 he bowed easily and with dignity to the company and low 
 before Ameni, he prayed him to grant that the pastophorus 
 Teta should accompany the leech Nebsecht to visit the 
 daughter of the paraschites. 
 
 Ameni nodded consent and exclaimed: ''They must 
 make haste. Paaker waits for them at the great gate, and 
 will accompany them in my chariot." 
 
 As soon as Pentaur had left the party of feasters, the old 
 priest from Chennu exclaimed, as he turned to Ameni : 
 
 "Indeed, holy father, just such a one and no other had 
 I pictured your poet. He is like the Sun -god, and his 
 demeanor is that of a prince. He is no doubt of noble 
 birth." 
 
 " His father is a homely gardener, "said the high-priest, 
 ** who indeed tills the land apportioned to him with in- 
 dustry and prudence, but is of humble birth and rough ex- 
 terior. He sent Pentaur to the school * at an early age, 
 and we have brought up the wonderfully gifted boy to be 
 what he now is." 
 
 " What office does he fill here in the temple ? " 
 
 "He instructs the elder pupils of the high-school in 
 grammar and eloquence ; he is also an excellent observer 
 of the starry heavens, and a most skilled interpreter of 
 dreams," replied Gagabu. "But here he is again. To 
 whom is Paaker conducting our stammering physician 
 and his assistant ? " 
 
 ' * To the daughter of the paraschites, who has been run 
 over," answered Pentaur. " But what a rough fellow this 
 pioneer is. His voice hurts my ears ; and he spoke to our 
 leeches as if they had been his slaves." 
 
 " He was vexed with the commission the princess had 
 
 *It is certain from the papyri that people of the lower orders could be 
 received into the priesthood. Separate castes Uke those of the Hindoo? 
 ^ere unknown to the Egyptians. 
 
UARDA. 
 
 43 
 
 devolved on him," said the high priest benevolently, *' and 
 his unamiable disposition is hardly mitigated by his real 
 piety." 
 
 ** And yet," said an old priest, ''his brother, who left us 
 some years ago, and who had chosen me for his guide and 
 teacher, was a particularly lovable and docile youth.'' 
 
 " And his father," said Ameni, "was one of the most 
 superior, energetic, and withal subtle-minded of men." 
 
 "Then he has derived his bad peculiarities from his 
 mother ? " 
 
 " By no means. She is a timid, amiable, soft-hearted 
 woman." 
 
 " But must the child always resemble its parents ? " 
 asked Pentaur. " Among the sons of the sacred bull, 
 sometimes not one bears the distinguishing mark of his 
 father." 
 
 "And if Paaker's father were indeed an Apis," said 
 Gagabu, laughing, "according to your view the pioneer 
 himself belongs, alas ! to the peasant's stable." 
 
 Pentaur did not contradict him, but said with a smile : 
 
 " Since he left the school-bench, where his school- 
 fellows called him the wild ass on account of his unruli- 
 ness, he has remained always the same. He was stronger 
 than most of them, and yet they knew no greater pleasure 
 than putting him in a rage. " 
 
 " Children are so cruel ! " said Ameni. " They judge 
 only by appearances, and never inquire into the causes of 
 them. The deficient are as guilty in their eyes as the idle, 
 and Paaker could put forward small claims to their in- 
 dulgence. I encourage freedom and merriment," he con- 
 tinued, turning to the priests from Chennu, "among our 
 disciples, for in fettering the fresh enjoyment of youth we 
 lame our best assistant. The excrescences on the natural 
 growth of boys cannot be more surely or painlessly extir- / 
 pated than in their wild games. The school-boy is the / 
 school-boy's best tutor." 
 
 " But Paaker, " said the priest Meriapu, "was not im- 
 proved by the provocations of his companions. Constant 
 contests with them increased that roughness which now 
 makes him the terror of his subordinates and alienates all 
 affection. " 
 
 ^* He is the most unhappy of all the many youths who 
 
44 
 
 UARDA. 
 
 were intrusted to my care," said Ameni, *'and I believe I 
 know why — he never had a child-like disposition, even 
 when in years he was still a child, and the gods had 
 denied him the heavenly gift of good-humor. Youth 
 should be modest, and he was assertive from his childhood. 
 He took the sport of his companions for earnest, and his 
 father, who was unwise only as a tutor, encouraged him 
 to resistance instead of to forbearance, in the idea that he 
 thus would be steeled to the hard life of a Mohar." * 
 
 " I have often heard the deeds of the Mohar spoken of," 
 said the old priest from Chennu, **yet I do not exactly 
 know what his office requires of him." 
 
 " He has to wander among the ignorant and insolent 
 people of hostile provinces, and to inform himself of the 
 kind and number of the population, to investigate the 
 direction of the mountains, valleys, and rivers, to set 
 forth his observations, and to deliver them to the house 
 of war, f so that the march of the troops may be guided 
 by them." 
 
 ** The Mohar, then, must be equally skilled as a war- 
 rior and as a scribe. " 
 
 ** As thou sayest ; and Paaker's father was not a hero 
 only, but at the same time a writer, whose close and clear 
 information depicted the country through which he had 
 traveled as plainly as if it were seen from a mountain 
 height. He was the first who took the title of Mohar. 
 The king held him in such high esteem that he was the 
 inferior to no one but the king himself, and the minister 
 of the house of war." 
 
 * * Was he of noble race ? " 
 
 "Of one of the oldest and noblest in the country. His 
 father was the noble warrior Assa," answered the harus- 
 pex, "and he therefore, after he himself had attained the 
 highest consideration and vast wealth, escorted home the 
 niece of the King Hor-em-heb, who would have had a 
 claim to the throne, as well as the Regent, if the grand- 
 father of the present Rameses had not seized it from the 
 old family by violence." 
 
 * The severe duties of the Mohar are well known from the papyrus 
 of Anastasi I. in the British Museum, which has been ably treated oy F. 
 Chabas, Voyage d'un Egyptien. 
 
 t Corresponding to our minister of war. A person of the highest im 
 portance <;ven in the e*iriiest times, 
 
UARDA. 4^ 
 
 "Be careful of your words, " said Ameni, interrupting 
 the rash old man. " Rameses I. was and is the grand- 
 father of our sovereign, and in the king's veins, from his 
 mother's side, flows the blood of the legitimate descendants 
 of the Sun-god." 
 
 **But fuller and purer in those of the Regent," the har- 
 uspex ventured to retort. 
 
 *'But Rameses wears the crown," cried Ameni, **and 
 will continue to wear it so long as it pleases the gods. 
 Reflect ! — your hairs are gray, and seditious words are like 
 sparks, which are borne by the wind, but which, if they 
 fall, may set our home in a blaze. Continue your feast- 
 ing, my lords ; but I would request you to speak no more 
 this evening of the king and his new decree. You, Pen- 
 taur, fulfill my orders to-morrow morning with energy 
 and prudence. " 
 
 The high-priest bowed and left the feast. 
 
 As soon as the door was shut behind him, the old priest 
 from Chennu spoke. 
 
 "What we have learned concerning the pioneer of the 
 king, a man who holds so high an office, surprises me. 
 Does he distinguish himself by a special acuteness ? " 
 
 " He was a steady learner, but of moderate ability." 
 
 " Is the rank of Mohar then as high as that of a prince 
 of the empire ? " 
 
 "By no means." 
 
 "How then is it ?" 
 
 "It is, as it is," interrupted Gagabu. "The sun of the 
 vine-dresser has his mouth full of grapes, and the child of 
 the door-keeper opens the lock with words." 
 
 " Never mind, "said an old priest who had hitherto kept 
 silence. " Paaker earned for himself the post of Mohar, 
 and possesses many praiseworthy qualities. He is inde- 
 fatigable and faithful, quails before no danger, and has 
 always been earnestly devout from his boyhood. When 
 the other scholars carried their pocket-money to the fruit- 
 sellers and confectioners at the temple gates, he would buy 
 ^eese, and, when his mother sent him a handsome sum, 
 young gazelles, to offer to the gods on the altars. No 
 noble in the land owns a greater treasure of charms and 
 images of the gods than he. To the present time he is 
 the most pious of men, and the offerings for the dead, 
 
46 tJARDA. 
 
 which he brings in the name of his late father, may be 
 said to be positively kingly." 
 
 " We owe him gratitude for these gifts," said the treas- 
 urer, ''and the high honor he pays his father even after 
 his death is exceptional and far-famed." 
 
 *'He emulates him in every respect," sneered Gagabu ; 
 **and though he does not resemble him in any feature, 
 grows more and more like him. But unfortunately it is as 
 the goose resembles the swan, or the owl resembles the 
 eagle. For his father's noble pride he has overbearing 
 haughtiness ; for kindly severity, rude harshness ; for 
 dignity, conceit ; for perseverance, obstinacy. Devout 
 he is, and we profit by his gifts. The treasurer may rejoice 
 over them, and the dates off a crooked tree taste as well 
 as those off a straight one. But if I were the Divinity I 
 should prize them no higher than a hoopoe's crest ; for 
 He, who sees into the heart of the giver — alas ! what does 
 He see ! Storms and darkness are of the dominion of 
 Seth, and in there — in there," and the old man struck his 
 broad breast, " all is wrath and tumult, and there is not a 
 gleam of the calm blue heaven of Ra that shines soft and 
 pure in the soul of the pious ; no, not a spot as large as 
 this wheaten-cake." 
 
 **Hast thou then sounded to the depths of his soul? " 
 asked the haruspex. 
 
 "As this beaker !" exclaimed Gagabu, and he touched 
 the rim of an empty drinking-vessel. ' * For fifteen years 
 without ceasing. The man has been of service to us, 
 is so still, and will continue to be. Our leeches extract 
 salves from bitter gall and deadly poisons ; and folks like 
 these " 
 
 '* Hatred speaks in thee," said the haruspex, interrupt- 
 ing the indignant old man. 
 
 ' * Hatred ! " he retorted, and his lips quivered. * ' Hatred ? " 
 and he struck his breast with his clenched hand. ** It is 
 true, it is no stranger to this old heart. But open thine 
 ears, O haruspex, and all you others too shall hear. I 
 recognize two sorts of hatred. The one is between man 
 and man ; that I have gagged, smothered, killed, annihi- 
 lated — with what efforts, the gods know. In past years I 
 have certainly tasted its bitterness, and served it like a 
 wasp, which, though it knows that in stinging it must die, 
 
UARDA. 47 
 
 yet useSi its sting. But now I am old in years, that is in 
 knowledge, and I know that of all the powerful impulses 
 which stir our hearts, one only comes solely from Seth, 
 one only belongs wholly to the Evil one — and that is hatred 
 between man and man. Covetousness may lead to in- 
 dustry, sensual appetites may beget noble fruit, but hatred 
 is a devastator, and in the soul that it occupies all that is 
 noble grows not upward and toward the light, but down- 
 ward to the earth and to darkness. Everything may be 
 forgiven by the gods, save only hatred between man and 
 man. But there is another sort of hatred that is pleasing 
 to the gods, and which you must cherish if you would not 
 miss their presence in your souls ; that is, hatred for all 
 that hinders the growth of light and goodness and purity 
 — the hatred of Horus of Seth. The gods would punish 
 me if I hated Paaker, whose father was dear to me ; but 
 the spirits of darkness would possess the old heart in my 
 breast if it were devoid of horror for the covetous and sor- 
 did. devotee, who would fain buy earthly joys of the gods 
 with gifts of beasts and wine, as men exchange an ass for 
 a robe, in whose soul seethe dark promptings. Paaker's 
 gifts can no more be pleasing to the Celestials than a cask 
 of attar of rose would please thee, haruspex, in which 
 scorpions, centipedes, and venomous snakes were swim- 
 ming. I have long led this man's prayers, and never 
 have I heard him crave for noble gifts, but a thousand 
 times for the injury of the men he hates." 
 
 *'In the holiest prayers that come down to us from the 
 past,' said the haruspex, "the gods are entreated to throw 
 our enemies under our feet ; and, besides, I have often 
 heard Paaker pray fervently for the bliss of his parents. " 
 
 ''You are a priest and one of the initiated," cried 
 Gagabu, *' and you know not — or will not seem to know 
 — that by the enemies for whose overthrow we pray, are 
 meant only the demons of darkness and the outlandish 
 peoples by whom Egypt is endangered ! Paaker prayed 
 for his parents ? Ay, and so will he for his children, for 
 they will be his future as his forefathers are his past. If 
 he had a wife, his offerings would be for her too, for she 
 would be the half of his own present." 
 
 "In spite of all this," said the haruspex Septah, "you 
 are too hard in your judgment of Paaker, for although he 
 
48 UARDA. 
 
 was born under a lucky sign, the Hathors denied him all 
 that makes youth happy. The enemy for whose de- 
 struction he prays is Mena, the king's charioteer, and, 
 indeed, he must have been of superhuman magnanimity, 
 or of unmanly feebleness, if he could have wished well to 
 the man who robbed him of the beautiful wife who was 
 destined for him." 
 
 "How could that happen?" asked the priest from 
 Chennu. ** A betrothal is sacred." 
 
 *' Paaker," replied Septah, *'was attached with all the 
 strength of his ungoverned but passionate and faithful 
 heart to his cousin Nefert, the sweetest maid in Thebes, 
 the daughter of Katuti, his mother's sister ; and she was 
 promised to him to wife. Then his father, whom he ac- 
 companied on his marches, was mortally wounded in 
 Syria. The king stood by his death-bed, and granting his 
 last request, invested his son with his rank and office. 
 Paaker brought the mummy of his father home to Thebes, 
 gave him a princely interment, and then before the time 
 of mourning was over, hastened back to Syria, where, 
 while the king returned to Egypt, it was his duty to re- 
 connoiter the new possessions. At last he could quit the 
 scene of war with the hope of marrying Nefert. He rode 
 his horse to death the sooner to reach the goal of his de- 
 sires ; but when he reached Tanis, the city of Rameses, the 
 news met him that his affianced cousin had been given to 
 another, the handsomest and bravest man in Thebes — the 
 noble Mena. The more precious a thing is that we hope 
 to possess, the more we are justified in complaining of 
 him who contests our claim, and can w^in it from us. 
 Paaker's blood must have been as cold as a frog's if he 
 could have forgiven Mena instead of hating him, and the 
 cattle he has offered to the gods to bring down their 
 wrath on the head of the traitor may be counted by hun- 
 dreds. " 
 
 * * And if you accept them, knowing why they are offered, 
 you do unwisely and wrongly/' exclaimed Gagabu. " If 
 I were a layman, I would take good care not to worship 
 a Divinity who condescends to serve the foulest human 
 ends for a reward. But the Omniscient Spirit, that rules 
 the world in accordance with the eternal laws, knoM's 
 nothing of these sacrifices, which only tickle the nostrils 
 
UARDA. 49 
 
 of the Evil one. The treasurer rejoices when a beautiful 
 spotless heifer is driven in among our herds. But Seth 
 rubs his red hands* with delight that he accepts it. My 
 friends, I have heard the vows which Paaker has poured 
 out over our pure altars, like hogwash that men set before 
 swine. Pestilence and boils has he called down on Mena, 
 and barrenness and heart-ache on the poor sweet woman ; 
 and I really cannot blame her for preferring a battle-horse 
 to a hippopotamus — a Mena to a Paaker." 
 
 **Yet the Immortals must have thought his remon- 
 strances less unjustifiable, and have stricter views as to 
 the inviolable nature of a betrothal than you," said the 
 treasurer, **for Nefert, during four years of married life, 
 has passed only a few weeks with her wandering husband, 
 and remains childless. It is hard to me to understand how 
 you, Gagabu, who so often absolve where we condemn, 
 can so relentlessly judge so great a benefactor to our 
 temple. " 
 
 "And I fail to comprehend," exclaimed the old man, 
 * how you — you whoso willingly condemn, can so weakly 
 etcuse this — this — call him what you will." 
 
 "He is indispensable to us at this time," said the 
 haruspex. 
 
 "Granted," said Gagabu, lowering his tone. "And I 
 think still to make use of him, as the high-priest has done 
 in past years with the best effect when dangers have threat- 
 ened us ; and a dirty road serves when he makes for the 
 g,voal. The gods themselves often permit safety to come 
 from what is evil ; but shall we therefore call evil good — 
 or say the hideous is beautiful ? Make use of the king's 
 pioneer as you will, but do not, because you are indebted 
 to him for gifts, neglect to judge him according to his im- 
 aginings and deeds, if you would deserve your title of the 
 Initiated and the Enlightened. Let him bring his cattle 
 into our temple and pour his gold into our treasury, but 
 do not defile your souls with the thought that the offerings 
 of such a heart and such a hand are pleasing to the Divin- 
 ity. Above all," and the voice of the old man had a 
 heartfelt impressiveness, "Above all, do not flatter the 
 
 ♦Red was the color of Seth and Typhon. The evil one is named the 
 Red, as for instance in the papyrus of Ebers. Red-haired men wert 
 typhonic. 
 
 4 
 
50 UARDA. 
 
 erringf man — and this is what you do — with the Idea that 
 he is walking in the right way ; for your, for our first duty, 
 O my friends, is always this — to guide the souls of tjiosft 
 w^ho trust in us to goodness and truth." 
 
 " Oh, my master I " cried Pentaur, ** how tender is thy 
 severity. " 
 
 "I have shown the hideous sores of this man's soul,'* 
 said the old man, as he rose to quit the hall. ''Your 
 praise will aggravate them, your blame will tend to heal 
 them. Nay, if you are not content to do your duty, old 
 Gagabu will come some day with his knife, and will throw 
 the sick man down and cut out the canker." 
 
 During this speech the haruspex had frequently shrugged 
 his shoulders. Now he said, turning to the priests from 
 Chennu : 
 
 ''Gagabu is a foolish, hot-headed old man, and you 
 have heard from his lips just such a sermon as the young 
 scribes keep by them when they enter on the duties of 
 the care of souls. His sentiments are excellent, but he 
 easily overlooks small things for the sake of great ones. 
 Ameni, would tell you that ten souls, no, nor a hundred, 
 do not matter when the safety of the whole is in question." 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The night during which the Princess Bent- An at and her 
 followers had knocked at the gate of the House of Seti was 
 past. 
 
 The fruitful freshness of the dawn gave way to the heat, 
 which began to pour down from the deep-blue cloudless 
 vault of heaven. The eye could no longer gaze at the 
 mighty globe of light whose rays pierced the fine white 
 dust which hung over the declivity of the hills that inclosed 
 the City of the Dead on the west. The limestone rocks 
 showed with blinding clearness ; the atmosphere quivered 
 as if heated over a flame ; each minute the shadows grew 
 shorter and their outlines sharper. 
 
 All the beasts which we saw peopling the Necropolis in 
 
UARDA. 51 
 
 the evening^ had now withdrawn into their lurking- places; 
 only man defied the heat of the summer day. Undis- 
 turbed he accomplished his daily work, and only laid his 
 tools aside for a moment, with a sigh, when a cooling 
 breath blew across the overflowing stream and fanned his 
 brow. 
 
 The harbor or dock, where those landed who had crossed 
 from eastern Thebes, was crowded with gay barks and 
 boats waiting to return. 
 
 The crews of rowers and steersmen who were attached 
 to priestly brotherhoods or noble houses, were enjoying a 
 rest till the parties they had brought across the Nile drew 
 toward them again in long processions. 
 
 Under a wide-spreading sycamore a vendor of eatables, 
 spirituous drinks, and acids for cooling the water, had set 
 up his stall, and close to him, a crowd of boatmen and 
 drivers shouted and disputed as they passed the time in 
 eager games at morra. * 
 
 Many sailors lay on the decks of the vessels, others on 
 the shore; here in the thin shade of a palm-tree, there in 
 the full blaze of the sun, from whose burning rays they 
 protected themselves by spreading the cotton cloths, 
 which served them for cloaks, over their faces. 
 
 Between the sleepers passed bondmen and slaves, brown 
 and black, in long files one behind the other, bending 
 under the weight of heavy burdens which had to be con- 
 veyed to their destination at the temples for sacrifice, or 
 to the dealers in various wares. Builders dragged blocks 
 of stone, which had come from the quarries of Chennu 
 and Suan, on sledges to the site of a new temple; laborers 
 poured water under the runners, that the heavily loaded 
 and dried wood should not take fire. 
 
 All these workingmen wef e driven with sticks by their 
 overseers, and sang at their labor ; but the voices of the 
 leaders sounded muffled and hoarse, though, when after 
 their frugal meal they enjoyed an hour of repose, they 
 might be heard loud enough. Their parched throats 
 refused to sing in the noontide of their labor. 
 
 ♦In Latin "micare digitia." A game still constantly played in the 
 south of Europe, and frequently represented by the Egyptians. The 
 games depicted in the monuments are collected by Minutoli, in tha 
 Leipziger Illustrirte Zeitung, 1852. 
 
52 
 
 UARDA. 
 
 Thick clouds of g-nats followed these tormented gang«<, 
 who with dull and spirit-broken endurance suffered alike 
 the stings of the insects and the blows of their driver. 
 The gnats pursued them to the very heart of the City of 
 the Dead, where they joined themselves to the flies and 
 wasps, which swarmed in countless crowds round the 
 slaughter-houses, cooks' shops, stalls of fried fish, and 
 booths of meat, vegetables, honey, cakes emd drinks, which 
 were doing a brisk business in spite of the noontide heat 
 and the oppressive atmosphere heated and filled with a 
 mixture of odors. 
 
 The nearer one got to the Libyan frontier, the quieter it 
 became, and the silence of death reigned in the broad 
 northwest valley, where in the southern slope the father 
 of the reigning king had caused his tomb to be hewn, and 
 where the stone-mason of the Pharaoh had prepared a 
 rock tomb for him. 
 
 A newly-made road led into this rocky gorge, whose 
 steep yellow and brown walls seemed scorched by the 
 sun in many blackened spots, and looked like a ghostly 
 array of shades that had risen from the tombs in the night 
 and remained there. 
 
 At the entrance of this valley some blocks of stone 
 formed a sort of doorway, and through this, indifferent 
 to the heat of the day, a small but brilliant troop of men 
 was passing. 
 
 Four slender youths as staff bearers led the processior/, 
 each clothed only with an apron and a flowing head-cloth 
 of gold brocade ; the midday sun played on their smooth, 
 moist, red-brown skins, and their supple naked feet hardly 
 stirred the stones on the road. 
 
 Behind them followed an elegant, two-wheeled chariot 
 with two prancing, brown horses, bearing tufts of red and 
 blue feathers on their noble heads, and seeming by the 
 bearing of their arched necks and flowing tails to express 
 their pride in the gorgeous housings, richly embroidered 
 in silver, purple, and blue and golden ornaments, which 
 they wore — and even more in their beautiful, royal 
 charioteer, Bent-Anat, the daughter of Rameses, at who*** 
 lightest word they pricked their ears, and whose little hand 
 guided thero with a scarcely perceptible touch. 
 
 , :7d young men dressed like the other runners followed 
 
UARDA. 53 
 
 the chariot, and kept the rays of the sun off the face of 
 their mistress with large fans of snow-white ostrich feathers 
 fastened to long wands. 
 
 By the side of Bent-Anat, so long as the road was wide 
 enough to allow of it, was carried Nefert, the wife of 
 Mena, in her gilt litter, borne by eight tawny bearers, who, 
 running with a swift and equally measured step, did not 
 remain far behind the trotting horses of the princess and 
 her fan-bearers. 
 
 Both the women, whom we now see for the first time 
 in daylight, were of remarkable but altogether different 
 beauty. 
 
 The wife of Mena had preserved the appearance of a 
 maiden ; her large almond-shaped eyes had a dreamy sur- 
 prised look out from under her long eyelashes, and her 
 figure of hardly the middle-height had acquired a little 
 stoutness without losing its youthful grace. No drop of 
 Egyptian blood flowed in her veins, as could be seen in the 
 color of her skin, which was of that fresh and equal hue 
 which holds a medium between golden-yellow and bronze- 
 brown, and which to this day is so charming in the 
 maidens of Abyssinia, in her straight nose, her well-formed 
 brow, in her smooth but thick black hair, and in the fine- 
 ness of her hands and feet, which were ornamented with 
 circles of gold. 
 
 The maiden princess next to her had hardly reached her 
 nineteenth year, and yet something of a womanly self- 
 consciousness betrayed itself in her demeanor. Her stat- 
 ure was by almost a head taller than that of her friend, 
 her skin was fairer, her blue eyes kind and frank, without 
 tricks of glance, but clear and honest, her profile was 
 noble but sharply cut, and resembled that of her father, as 
 a landscape in the mild and softening light of the moon 
 resembles the same landscape in the broad clear light of 
 day. The scarcely perceptible aquiline of her nose, she 
 inherited from her Semitic ancestors,* as well as the 
 slightly waving abundance of her brown hair, over which 
 she wore a blue and white striped silk kerchief ; its care- 
 fully pleated folds were held in place by a gold ring, from 
 
 * Many portraits have come down to us of Rameses; the finest is the 
 noble statue preserved at Turin. A likeness has been detected be- 
 tween its profile, with its slightly a(i.uiliu9 {iQse» and that ol Napoleou L 
 
54 
 
 UARDA. 
 
 which in front a horned urseus * raised its head crowned 
 with a disk of rubies. From her left temple a large tress, 
 pleated with gold thread, hung down to her waist, the sign 
 of her royal birth. She wore a purple dress of fine, almost 
 transparent stuff, that was confined with a gold belt and 
 straps. Round her throat was fastened a necklace like a 
 collar, made of pearls and costly stones, and hanging low 
 down on her well-formed bosom. 
 
 Behind the princess stood her charioteer, an old officer 
 of noble birth. 
 
 Three litters followed the chariot of the princess, and in 
 each sat two officers of the court ; then came a dozen of 
 slaves ready for any service, and lastly, a crowd of wand- 
 bearers to drive off the idle populace, and of lightly armed 
 soldiers, who — dressed only in the apron and head-cloth — • 
 each bore a dagger-shaped sword in his girdle, an ax in 
 his right hand, and in his left, in token of free service, a 
 palm-branch. 
 
 Like dolphins round a ship, little girls in long shirt- 
 shaped garments swarmed round the whole length of the 
 advancing procession, bearing water-jars on their steady 
 heads, and at a sign from any one who was thirsty were 
 ready to give him a drink. With steps as light as the 
 gazelle they often outran the horses, and nothing could be 
 more graceful than the action with which the taller ones 
 bent over with the water-jars held in both arms to the 
 drinker. 
 
 The courtiers, cooled and shaded by waving fans, and 
 hardly perceiving the noontide heat, conversed at their 
 ease about indifferent matters, and the princesses pitied 
 the poor horses, who were tormented as they went by 
 annoying gad-flies : while the runners and soldiers, the 
 litter-bearers and fan-bearers, the girls with their jars and 
 the panting slaves, were compelled to exert themselves 
 under the rays of the midday sun in the service of their 
 masters, till their sinews threatened to crack and their 
 lungs to burst their bodies. 
 
 ^ At a spot where the road widened, and where, to the 
 right, lay the steep cross-valley where the last kings of the 
 
 * A venomous Egyptian serpent which was adopted as the symbol of 
 sovereign power, in consequence of its swift effects for life or death. It 
 is never wanting to the diadem of the Pharaohs. 
 
UARDA. 55 
 
 dethroned race were interred, the procession stopped at a 
 sign from Paaker, who preceded the princess, and who 
 drove his fiery black Syrian horses with so lieavy a hand 
 that the bloody foam fell from their bits. 
 
 When the Mohar had given the reins into the hand of a 
 servant, he sprang from his chariot, and after the usual 
 form of obeisance, said to the princess : 
 
 '* In this valley lies the loathsome den of the people, to 
 whom thou, O princess, dost deign to do such high honor. 
 Permit me to go forward as guide to thy party/' 
 
 ** We will go on foot," said the princess, ** and leave our 
 followers behind here." 
 
 Paaker bowed, Bent-Anat threw the reins to her char- 
 ioteer and sprang to the ground, the wife of Mena and the 
 courtiers left their litters, and the fan-bearers and cham- 
 berlains were about to accompany their mistress on foot 
 into the little valley, when she turned round and ordered, 
 *' Remain behind, all of you. Only Paaker and Nefert 
 need go with me." 
 
 The princess hastened forward into the gorge, which 
 was oppressive with the noontide heat ; but she moderated 
 her steps as soon as she observed that the frailer Nefert 
 found it difficult to follow her. 
 
 At a bend in the road Paaker stood still, and with him 
 Bent-Anat and Nefert. Neither of them had spoken a 
 word during their walk. The valley was perfectly still 
 and deserted ; on the highest pinnacles of the cliff, which 
 rose perpendicularly to the right, sat a long row of vult- 
 ures, as motionless as if the midday heat had taken all 
 strength out of their wings. 
 
 Paaker bowed before them as being the sacred animals 
 of the Great Goddess of Thebes,* and the two women 
 silently followed his example. 
 
 *' There," said the Mohar, pointing to two huts close to 
 the left cliff of the valley, built of bricks made of dried 
 Nile mud, *' there, the 'neatest, next the cave in the 
 rock." 
 
 Bent-Anat went toward the solitary hovel with a beat- 
 ing heart. Paaker let the ladies go first. A few steps 
 
 * She formed a triad with Amon and Chunsu under the name of 
 Muth. The great " Sanctuary of the kingdom" — ^the temple of Kamak 
 —was dedicated to them. 
 
56 ' UARDA. 
 
 brought them to an ill-constructed fence of reeds, palm- 
 branches, briars, and maize haulms, roughly thrown to- 
 gether. A heart-rending cry of pain from within the hut 
 trembled in the air and arrested the steps of the two 
 women. Nefert staggered and clung to her stronger com- 
 panion, whose beating heart she seemed to hear. Both 
 stood a few minutes as if spell-bound, then the princess 
 called Paaker, and said : 
 
 *' You go first into the house." 
 
 Paaker bowed to the ground. 
 
 *'I will call the man out," he said, *'but how dare we 
 step over his threshold ? Thou knowest such a proceed- 
 ing will defile us." 
 
 Nefert looked pleadingly at Bent-Anat, but the princess 
 repeated her command. 
 
 ** Go before me ; I have no fear of defilement." 
 
 The Mohar still hesitated. 
 
 "Wilt thou provoke the gods, and defile thyself?" 
 
 But the princess let him say no more ; she signed to 
 Nefert, who raised her hands in horror and aversion ; so, 
 with a shrug of her shoulders, she left her companion 
 behind with the Mohar, and stepped through an opening 
 in the hedge into a little court, where lay two brown 
 goats ; a donkey with his forelegs tied together stood by, 
 and a few hens were scattering the dust about in a vain 
 search for food. 
 
 Soon she stood, alone, before the door of the paraschites* 
 hovel. No one perceived her, but she could not take 
 her eyes — accustomed only to scenes of order and splen- 
 dor — from the gloomy but wonderfully strange picture 
 which riveted her attention and her sympathy. At last 
 she went up to the doorway, which was too low for her 
 tall figure. Her heart shrunk painfully within her, and 
 she would have wished to grow smaller, and, instead of 
 shining in splendor, to have found herself wrapped in a 
 beggar's robe. 
 
 Could she step into this hovel decked with gold and 
 jewels as if in mockery ? — like a tyrant who should feast 
 at a groaning table and compel the starving to look on at 
 the banquet. Her delicate perception made her feel 
 what trenchant discord her appearance offered to all that 
 surrounded her, and the discord pained her ; for she could 
 
UARDA. 57 
 
 not conceal from herself that misery and external mean- 
 ness were here entitled to give the key-note, and that her 
 magnificence derived no especial grandeur from contrast 
 with all these modest accessories, amid dust, gloom, and 
 suffering, but rather became disproportionate and hid- 
 eous, like a giant among pigmies. 
 
 She had already gone too far to turn back, or she would 
 willingly have done so. The longer she gazed into the 
 hut, the more deeply she felt the impotence of her 
 princely jDower, the nothingness of the splendid gifts with 
 which she approached it, and that she might not tread the 
 dusty floor of this wretched hovel but in all humility, and 
 to crave a pardon. 
 
 The room into which she looked was low but not very 
 small, and obtained from two cross lights a strange and 
 unequal illumination ; on one side the light came through 
 the door, and on the other through an opening in the 
 time-worn ceiling of the room, which had never before 
 harbored so many and such different guests. 
 
 All attention was concentrated on a group, which was 
 clearly lighted up from the doorway. 
 
 On the dusty floor of the room cowered an old woman, 
 with dark weather-beaten features and tangled hair that 
 had long been gray. Her black-blue cotton shirt was 
 open over her withered bosom, and showed a blue star 
 tattooed upon it. 
 
 In her lap she supported with her hands the head of 
 a girl, whose slender body lay motionless on a narrow, 
 ragged mat. The little white feet of the sick girl almost 
 touched the threshold. Near to them squatted a benevo- 
 lent-looking old man, who wore only a coarse apron, and 
 sitting all in a heap, bent forward now and then, rubbing 
 the child's feet with his lean hands and muttering a few 
 words to himself 
 
 The sufferer wore nothing but a short petticoat of 
 coarse light-blue stuff. Her face, half resting on the lap 
 of the old woman, was graceful and regular in form, her 
 eyes were half shut — like those of a child, whose soul is 
 wrapped in some sweet dream — but from her finely chis- 
 elled lips there escaped from time to time a painful, 
 almost convulsive sob. 
 
 An abundan :e of soft, but disordered, reddish fair hair, 
 
58 UARDA. 
 
 in which clung- a few withered flowers, fell over the lap 
 of the old woman and on to the mat where she lay. Her 
 cheeks were white and rosy-red, and when the young- 
 surgeon Nebsecht — who sat by her side, near his blind, 
 stupid companion, the litany-singer — lifted the ragged 
 cloth that had been thrown over her bosom, which had 
 been crushed by the chariot wheels, or when she lifted 
 her slender arm, it was seen that she had the shining fair- 
 ness of those daughters of the north who not unfrequently 
 came to Thebes, among the king's prisoners of war. 
 
 The two physicians sent hither from the House of Seti 
 sat on the left side of the maiden on a little carpet From 
 time to time one or the other laid his hand over the heart 
 of the sufferer, or listened to her breathing, or opened 
 his case of medicaments, and moistened the compress on 
 her wounded breast with a white ointment. 
 
 In a wide circle close to the wall of the room crouched 
 several women, young and old, friends of the paraschites, 
 who from time to time gave expression to their deep sym- 
 pathy by a piercing cry of lamentation. One of them 
 rose at regular intervals to fill the earthen bowl by the 
 side of the physician with fresh water. As often as the 
 sudden coolness of a fresh compress on her hot bosom 
 startled the sick girl, she opened her eyes, but always 
 soon to close them again for a longer interval, and turned 
 them at first in surprise, and then with gentle reverence, 
 toward a particular spot. 
 
 These glances had hitherto been unobserved by him to 
 whom they were directed. 
 
 Leaning against the wall on the right hand side of the 
 room, dressed in his long, snow-white priest's robe, Pen- 
 taur stood awaiting the princess. His head-dress touched 
 the ceiling, and the narrow streak of light, which fell 
 through the opening in the roof, streamed on his hand- 
 some head and his breast, while all around him was veiled 
 in twilight gloom. 
 
 Once more the suffering girl looked up, and her 
 glance this time met the eye of the young priest, who im- 
 mediately raised his hand, and half-mechanically, in alow 
 voice, uttered the words of blessing ; and then once more 
 fixed his gaze on the dingy floor, and pursued his ©wn 
 reflections. 
 
UARDA. 59 
 
 Some hours since he had come hither, obedient to the 
 orders of Ameni, to impress on the princess that she had 
 defiled herself by touching a paraschites, and could only be 
 cleansed again by the hand of the priests. 
 
 He had crossed the threshold of the paraschites most 
 reluctantly, and the thought that he, of all men, had been 
 selected to censure a deed of the noblest humanity, and to 
 bring her who had done it to judgment, weighed upon him 
 as a calamity. 
 
 In his intercourse with his friend Nebsecht, Pentaur 
 had thrown off many fetters, and given place to many 
 thoughts that his master would have held sinful and pre- 
 sumptuous ; but at the same time he acknowledged the 
 sanctity of the old institutions, which were upheld by those 
 whom he had learned to regard as the divinely appointed 
 guardians of the spiritual possessions of God's people ; nor 
 was he wholly free from the pride of caste and the haugh- 
 tiness which, with prudent intent, were inculcated in the 
 priests. He held the common man, who put forth his 
 strength to win a maintenance for his belongings by honest 
 bodily labor — the merchant— the artisan — the peasant, nay 
 even the warrior, as far beneath the goodly brotherhood 
 who strove for only spiritual ends ; and most of all he 
 scorned the idler, given up to sensual enjoyments. 
 
 He held him unclean who had been branded by the law ; 
 and how should it have been otherwise ? 
 
 These people, who at the embalming of the dead opened 
 the body of the deceased, had become despised for their 
 office of mutilating the sacred temple of the soul ; but no 
 paraschites chose his calling of his own free will. It was 
 handed down from father to son, and he who was born a 
 paraschites — so he was taught — had to expiate an old guilt 
 with which his soul had long ago burdened itself in a 
 former existence, within another body, and which had de- 
 prived it of absolution in the nether-world. It had passed 
 through various animal forms ; and now began a new 
 human course in the body of a paraschites, once more to 
 stand after death in the presence of the judges of the under- 
 world. 
 
 Pentaur had crossed the threshold of the man he de- 
 spised with aversion ; the man himself, sitting at the feet 
 of the suffering girl, had exclaimed as he saw the pries^ 
 approaching tiie hov^l : 
 
6o UARDA. 
 
 '* Yet another white robe 1 Does misfortune cleanse the 
 unclean ? " 
 
 Pentaur had not answered the old man, who on his part 
 took no further notice of him, while he rubbed the girl's 
 feet by order of the leech, and his hands impelled by tender 
 anxiety untiringly continued the same movement, as the 
 water-wheel in the Nile keeps up without intermission its 
 steady motion in the stream. 
 
 " Does misfortune cleanse the unclean ? " Pentaur asked 
 himself. * ' Does it indeed possess a purifying efficacy, and 
 is it possible that the gods, who gave to fire the power of 
 refining metals and to the winds power to sweep the clouds 
 from the sky, should desire that a man made in their own 
 image — that a man should be tainted from his birth to his 
 death with an indelible stain ? " 
 
 He looked at the face of the paraschites, and it seemed 
 to him to resemble that of his father. 
 
 This startled him 1 
 
 And when he noticed how the woman, in whose lap the 
 girl's head was resting, bent over the injured bosom of the 
 child to catch her breathing, which she feared had come 
 to a standstill — with the anguish of a dove that is struck 
 down by a hawk — he remembered a moment in his own 
 childhood when he had lain trembling with fever on his 
 httle bed. What then had happened to him, or had gone 
 on around him, he had long forgotten, but one image was 
 deeply imprinted on his soul, that of the face of his mother 
 bending over him in deadly anguish, but who had gazed 
 on her sick boy not more tenderly, or more anxiously, 
 than this despised woman on her suffering child. 
 
 ''There is only one utterly unselfish, utterly pure and 
 utterly divine love," said he to himself, "and that is the 
 love of Isis for Horus — the love of a mother for her child. 
 If these people were indeed so foul as to defile everything 
 they touch, how would this pure, this tender, holy impulse 
 show itself even in them in all its beauty and perfection." 
 
 " Still," he continued, "the Celestials have implanted 
 maternal love in the breast of the lioness, of the typhonic 
 river-horse of the Nile." 
 
 He looked compassionately at the wife of the paras- 
 chites. 
 
 He saw her dark face as she turned it away (rom thq 
 
UARDA. 6l 
 
 sick girl. She had felt her breathe, and a smile of hap- 
 piness lighted up her old features ; she nodded first to the 
 surgeon, and then with a deep sigh of relief to her hus- 
 band, who, while he did not cease the movement of his 
 left hand, held up his right hand in prayer to heaven, and 
 his wife did the same. 
 
 It seemed to Pentaur that he could see the souls of these 
 two floating above the youthful creature in holy union as 
 they joined their hands, and again he thought of his par- 
 ents' house, of the hour when his sweet only sister died. 
 His mother had thrown herself weeping on the pale form, 
 but his father had stamped his foot and had thrown back 
 his head, sobbing and striking his forehead with his fist. 
 
 " How piously submissive and thankful are these un- 
 clean ones ! " thought Pentaur, and repugnance for the old 
 laws began to take root in his heart. * ' Maternal love may 
 exist in the hyena, but to seek and find God pertains only 
 to man, who has a noble aim. Up to the limits of eternity 
 — and God is eternal — thought is denied to animals ; they 
 cannot even smile. Even men cannot smile at first, for 
 only physical life — an animal soul — dwells in them ; but 
 soon a share of the world's soul — beaming intelligence — 
 works within them, and first shows itself in the smile of 
 a child, which is as pure as the light and the truth from 
 which it comes. The child of the paraschites smiles like 
 any other creature born of woman, but how few aged men 
 there are, even among the initiated, who can smiTe as in- 
 nocently and brightly as this woman who has grown gray 
 under open ill-treatment." 
 
 Deep sympathy began to fill his heart, and he knelt down 
 by the side of the poor child, raised her arm and prayed 
 fervently to that One, who bad created the heavens- and 
 who rules the world — to that One, whom the mysteries of 
 faith forbade him to name ; and not to the innumerable 
 gods, whom the people worshiped, and who to him were 
 nothing but incarnations of the attributes of the One and 
 only God of the initiated — of whom he was one — who was 
 thus brought down to the comprehension of the laity. 
 
 He raised his soul to God in passionate emotion ; but he 
 prayed, not for the child before him and for her recovery, 
 but rather for the whole despised race, and for its release 
 from the old ban for the enlightenment of his own soul, 
 
63 UARDA. 
 
 imprisoned in doubts, and for strength to fulfill his hard" 
 task with discretion. 
 
 The gaze of the sufferer followed him as he took up his 
 former position. 
 
 The prayer had refreshed his soul and restored him to 
 cheerfulness of spirit. He began to reflect what in the 
 princess' conduct he would have to comment on. 
 
 He had not met Bent-Anat for the first time yesterday ; 
 on the contrary, he had frequently seen her in holiday 
 processions, and at the high festivals in the Necropolis, 
 and like all his young companions had admired her proud 
 beauty — admired it as the distant light of the stars, or the 
 evening-glow on the horizon. 
 
 Now he must approach this lady with words of reproof. 
 
 He pictured to himself the moment when he must ad- 
 vance to meet her, and could not help thinking of his little 
 tutor Chufu, above whom he towered by two heads while 
 he was still a boy, and who used to call up his admonitions 
 to him from below. It was true, he himself was tall and 
 slim, but he felt as if to-day he were to play the part 
 toward Bent-Anat of the much-laughed-at little tutor. 
 
 His sense of the comic was touched, and asserted itself 
 at this serious moment, and with such melancholy sur- 
 roundings. Life is rich in contrasts, and a susceptible 
 and highly-strung human soul would break down like a 
 bridge under the measured tread of soldiers, if it were 
 allowed to let the burden of the heaviest thoughts and 
 strongest feelings work upon it in undisturbed monotony ; 
 but just as in music every key-note has its harmonies, so 
 when we cause one chord of our heart to vibrate for long, 
 all sorts of strange notes respond and clang, often those 
 which we least expect. 
 
 Pentaur's glance flew round the one low, overfilled room 
 of the paraschites* hut, and like a lightning flash the 
 thought, " How will the princess and her train find room 
 here?" flew through his mind. 
 
 His fancy was lively, and vividly brought before him 
 how the daughter of the Pharaoh with a crown pn her proud 
 head would bustle into the silent chamber, how the chaf* 
 tering courtiers w^ould follow her, and how the women bv 
 the walls, the physicians by the side of the sick girl, the 
 sleek white cat from the chest where she sat, would rise 
 
¥ 
 
 UARDA. 63 
 
 and throng round her. There must be frightful confu^ 
 sion. Then he imagined how the smart lords and ladies 
 would kecrp themselves far from the unclean, hold their 
 slender hands over their mouths and noses, and suggest to 
 the old foiks how they ought to behave to the princess 
 who condescended to bless them with her presence. The 
 old woman must lay down the head that rested in her 
 bosom, the paraschites must drop the feet he so anxiously 
 rubbed, on the floor, to rise and kiss the dust before Bent- 
 Anat. Whereupon — the ** mind's eye" of the young 
 priest seemed to see it all — the courtiers fled before him, 
 pushing each other, and all crowded together into a corner, 
 and at last the princess threw a few silver or gold rings 
 into the laps of the father and mother, and perhaps to the 
 girl too, and he seemed to hear the courtiers all cry out : 
 " Hail to the gracious daughter of the Sun 1 " — to hear the 
 joyful exclamations of the crowd of women — to see the 
 gorgeous apparition leave the hut of the despised people, 
 and then to see, instead of the lovely sick child who still 
 breathed audibly, a silent corpse on the crumpled mat, 
 and in the place of the two tender nurses at her head and 
 feet, two heart-broken, loud-lamenting wretches. 
 
 Pentaur's hot spirit was full of wrath. As soon as the 
 noisy cortege appeared actually in sight he would place 
 himself in the doorway, forbid the princess to enter, and 
 receive her with strong words. 
 
 She could hardly come hither out of human kindness. 
 
 ** She wants variety," said he to himself, ** something 
 new at court ; for \here is little going on there now the 
 king tarries with the troops in a distant country ; it tickles 
 the vanity of the great to find themselves once in a while 
 in contact with the small, and it is well to have your good- 
 ness of heart spoken of by the people. If a little misfor- 
 tune opportunely happens, it is not worth the trouble to 
 inquire whether the form of our benevolence does more 
 good or mischief to sucn wretched people." 
 
 He ground his teeth angrily, and thought no more of 
 the defilement which might threaten Bent-Anat from the 
 paraschites, but exclusively, on the contrary, on the initia- 
 tion which she might derive from the holy feelings that 
 were astir in this silent room. 
 
 Excited as he was to fanaticism, his condemning lips 
 could not fail to find vigoi>.trt «ind impressive words. 
 
64 UARDA. 
 
 He stood drawn to his full height and drawing" h;.s 
 breath deeply, like a spirit of light who holds his weapon 
 raised to annihilate a demon of darkness, and he looked 
 out into the valley to perceive from afar the cry of the 
 runners, and the rattle of the wheels of the gay train he 
 expected. 
 
 And he saw the doorway darkened by a lowly, bending 
 figure, who, with folded arms, glided into the room and 
 sank down silently by the side of the sick girl. The phy- 
 sicians and the old people moved as if to rise ; but she 
 signed to them without opening her lips, and with moist, 
 expressive eyes, to keep their places ; she looked long and 
 lovingly in the face of the wounded girl, stroked her white 
 arm, and turning to the old woman softly whispered to 
 her : 
 
 " How pretty she is I " 
 
 The paraschites' wife nodded assent, and the girl smiled 
 and moved her lips as though she had caught the words 
 and wished to speak. 
 
 Bent-Anat took a rose from her hair and laid it on her 
 bosom. 
 
 The paraschites, who had not taken his hands from the 
 feet of the sick child, but who had followed every move- 
 ment of the princess, now whispered, "May Hathor 
 requite thee, who gave thee thy beauty." 
 
 The princess turned to him and said, ** Forgive the 
 sorrow I have caused you." 
 
 The old man stood up, letting the feet of the sick girl 
 fall, and asked in a clear, loud voice : 
 
 "Art thou Bent-Anat.?" 
 
 " Yes, I am," replied the princess, bowing her head low, 
 and in so gentle a voice that it seemed as though she were 
 ashamed of her proud name. 
 
 The eyes of the old man flashed. Then he said softly 
 but decisively : 
 
 " Leave my hut then, it will defile thee." 
 
 " Not till you have forgiven me for that which I did 
 unintentionally." 
 
 "Unintentionally! I believe thee," replied the para 
 schites. " The hoofs of thy horse became unclean when 
 
 they trod on this white breast. Look here " and he 
 
 lifted the cloth from the girl's bosom, and showed her the 
 
UARDA. 65 
 
 a eep red wound. "Look here — here is the first rose you 
 laid on my grandchild's bosom, and the second — there it 
 goes." 
 
 The paraschites raised his arm to fling the flower 
 through the door of his hut. But Pentaur had approached 
 him, and with a grasp of iron held the old man's hand. 
 
 *' Stay," he cried, in an eager tone, moderated, however, 
 for the sake of the sick girl. *'The third rose, which this 
 noble hand has offered you, your sick heart and silly head 
 have not even perceived. And yet you must know it if 
 only from your need, your longing for it. The fair blossom 
 of pure benevolence is laid on your child's heart, and at 
 your very feet by this proud princess. Not with gold, but 
 V7ith humility. And whoever the daughter of Rameses 
 approaches as her equal, bows before her even if he were 
 the first prince in the land of Egypt. Indeed, the gods 
 shall not forget this deed of Bent-Anat. And you — for- 
 give, if you desire to be forgiven that guilt which you bear 
 as an inheritance from your fathers, and for your own 
 sins." 
 
 The paraschites bowed his head at these words, and 
 v."hen he raised it the anger had vanished from his well- 
 cut features. He rubbed his wrist, which had been 
 squeezed by Pentaur's iron fingers, and said in a tone 
 v/hich betrayed all the bitterness of his feelings : 
 
 *'Thyhandis hard, priest, and thy words hit like the 
 strokes of a hammer. This fair lady is good and loving, 
 and I know that she did not drive her horse intentionally 
 over this poor girl, who is my grandchild and not my 
 daughter. If she were thy wife or the wife of the leech 
 there, or the child of the poor woman yonder, who sup- 
 ports life by collecting the feet and feathers of the fowls 
 that are slaughtered for sacrifice, I would not only for- 
 give her, but console her for having made herself like to 
 me ; fate would have made her a murderess without any 
 fault of her own, just as it stamped me as unclean while 
 I was still at my mother's breast. Ay — I would comfort 
 her ; and yet I am not very sensitive. Ye holy three of 
 Thebes ! how should I be? Great and small get out of 
 my way that I may not touch them, and every day when 
 I have done what it is my business to do they throw stones 
 •t me. The fulfillment of duty — which brings a living to 
 
 5 
 
66 tJARDA. 
 
 other men, which makes their happiness, and at the same 
 time earns them honor, brings me every day fresh disgrace 
 and painful sores. But I complain to no man, and must 
 forgive — forgive — forgive, till at last all that men do to 
 me seems quite natural and unavoidable, and I take it all 
 like the scorching of the sun in summer, and the dust 
 that the west wind blows into my face. It does not make 
 me happy, but what can I do .? I forgive all " 
 
 The voice of the paraschites had softened, and Bent- 
 Anat, who looked down on him with emotion, interrupted 
 him, exclaiming with deep feeling : 
 
 '* And so you will forgive me? — poor man ! " 
 
 The old man looked steadily, not at her, but at Pen- 
 taur, while he replied : '' Poor man ! ay, truly, poor man. 
 You have driven me out of the world in which you live, 
 and so I made a world for myself in this hut. I do not 
 belong to you, and if I forget it you drive me out as an 
 intruder — nay, as a wolf, who breaks into your fold ; but 
 you belong just as little to me, only when you play the 
 wolf and fall upon me, I must bear it ! " 
 
 ''The princess came to your hut as a suppliant, and 
 with the wish of doing you some good," said Pentaur. 
 
 "May the avenging gods reckon it to her, when they 
 visit on her the crimes of her father against me ! Perhaps 
 it tnay bring me to prison, but it must come out. Seven 
 sons were mine, and Rameses took them all from me and 
 sent them to death ; the child of the youngest, this girl, 
 the light of my eyes, his daughter has brought to her 
 death. Three of my boys the king left to die of thirst by 
 the Tenat,* which is to join the Nile to the Red Sea, three 
 were killed by the Ethiopians, and the last, the star of 
 my hopes, by this time is eaten by the hyenas of the 
 north." 
 
 At these words the old woman, in wnose lap the head 
 of the girl rested, broke out into a loud cry, in which she 
 was joined by all the other women. 
 
 The sufferer started up frightened, and opened her eyes. 
 
 * Literally the " cutting " which, under Seti I, the father of Rameses, 
 was the first " Suez canal : " a representation of it is found on the north- 
 em outer wall of the temple of Kamack. It followed nearly the same 
 direction as the South-water canal of Lesseps, and fertilize^ the land of 
 Goshen. 
 
tJARDA. 67 
 
 " For whom are you wailing ? " she asked, feebly. 
 
 *' For your poor father," said the old woman. 
 
 The girl smiled like a child who detects some well- 
 meant deceit, and said : 
 
 ** Was not my father here, with you? He is here, in 
 Thebes, and looked at me, and kissed me, and said that 
 he is bringing home plunder, and that a good time is com- 
 ing for you. The gold ring that he gave me I was fasten- 
 ing into my dress, when the chariot passed over me. I 
 was just pulling the knots, when all grew black before 
 my eyes, and I saw and heard nothing more. Undo it, 
 grandmother, the ring is for you ; I meant to bring it to 
 you. You must buy a beast for sacrifice with it, and wine 
 for grandfather, and eye-salve for yourself, and sticks of 
 mastic, which you have so long had to do without." 
 
 The paraschites seemed to drink these words from the 
 mouth of his grandchild. Again he lifted his hand in 
 prayer, again Pentaur observed that his glance met that of 
 his wife, and a large, warm tear fell from his old eyes on 
 to his callous hand. Then he sunk down, for he thought 
 the sick child was deluded by a dream. But there were 
 the knots in her dress. 
 
 With a trembling hand he untied them, and a gold ring 
 rolled out on the floor. 
 
 Bent-Anat picked it up and gave it to the paraschites. 
 
 *' I came hereiii a lucky hour," she said, " for you have 
 recovered your son and your child will live." 
 
 " She will live," repeated the surgeon, who had re- 
 mained a silent witness of all that had occurred. 
 
 *' She will stay with us," murmured the old man, and 
 then said, as he approached the princess on his knees, and 
 looked up at her beseechingly with tearful eyes : 
 
 *' Pardon me as I pardon thee ; and if a pious wish may 
 not turn to a curse from the lips of the unclean, let me 
 bless thee." 
 
 ** I thank you," said Bent-Anat, toward whom the old 
 man raised his hand in blessing. 
 
 Then she turned to Nebsecht and ordered him to take 
 anxious care of the sick girl ; she bent over her, kissed her 
 forehead, laid her gold bracelet by her side, and signing t* 
 Pentrtur, left the hut with him. 
 
6S UAR,.M. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 During the occurrence we have described, the king's 
 pioneer and the young wife of Mena were obliged to wait 
 for the princess. 
 
 The sun stood in the meridian when Bent-Anat had gone 
 into the hovel of the pmraschites. 
 
 The bare limestone rocks on each side of the valley and 
 the sandy soil between shone with a vivid whiteness that 
 hurt the eyes ; not a hand's breadth of shade was any- 
 where to be seen, and the fan-bearers of the two, who were 
 waiting there, had, by command of the princess, stayed 
 behind with the chariot and litters. 
 
 For a time they stood silently near each other ; then the 
 fair Nefert said, wearily closing her almond-shaped eyes : 
 
 '* How long Bent-Anat stays in the hut of the unclean ! 
 I am perishing here. What shall we do ? " 
 
 ** Stay ! " said Paaker, turning his back on the lady ; and 
 mounting a block of stone by the side of the gorge, he 
 cast a practiced glance all around, and returned to Nefert ; 
 '* I have found a shady spot," he said/* out there." 
 
 Mena's wife followed with her eyes the indication of his 
 hand and shook her head. The gold ornaments on her 
 head-dress rattled gently as she did so, and a cold shiver 
 passed over her slim body in spite of the midday heat. 
 
 ''Sechef* is raging in the sky," said Paaker. " Let us 
 avail ourselves of the shady spot, small though it be. At 
 this hour of the day many are struck with sickness." 
 
 "I know it," said Nefert, covering her neck with her 
 hand. Then she went toward two blocks of stone which 
 leaned against each other, and between them afforded the 
 spot of shade, not many feet wide, which Paaker had 
 pointed out as a shelter from the sun. 
 
 * A goddess with the head of a lioness or a cat, over which the Sun 
 disk is usually found. She was the daughter of Ra, and in the form of 
 the Uraeus on her father's cro\yn personified the murdeous heat of the 
 star of day. She incites man to the hot and wild passion of love, and as 
 a cat or lioness tears burning wounds in the limbs of the guilty in the 
 nether-world; drunkenness and pleasure are her gifts. She was also 
 named Bast and Astarte after her sister-divinity among the Phoenicians. 
 
UARDA. 69 
 
 Paaker preceded her, and rolled a flat piece of limestone, 
 inlaid by nature with nodules of flint, under the stone 
 pavilion, crushed a few scorpions which had taken refuge 
 there, spread his head-cloth over the hard seat, and said, 
 ''Here you are sheltered." 
 
 Nefert sank down on the stone and watched the Mohar, 
 who slowly and silently paced backward and forward in 
 front of her. This incessant to and fro of her companion 
 at last became unendurable to her sensitive and irritated 
 nerves, and suddenly raising her head from her hand, on 
 which she had rested it, she exclaimed : 
 
 "Pray stand still.'' 
 
 The pioneer obeyed instantly, and looked, as he stood 
 with his back to her, toward the hovel of the paraschites. 
 
 After a short time Nefert said : 
 
 "Say something to me ! " 
 
 The Mohar turned his face full toward her, and she was 
 frightened at the wild fire that glowed in the glance with 
 which he gazed at her. 
 
 Nefert's eyes fell, and Paaker, saying : 
 
 " I would rather remain silent, "recommenced his walk, 
 till Nefert called to him again and said : 
 
 "I know you are angry with me; but I was but a 
 child when I was betrothed to you. I liked "j ou too, and 
 when in our games your mother called me your little wife, 
 I was really glad, and used to think how fine it would be 
 when I might call all your possessions mine, the house 
 you would have so splendidly restored for me after your 
 father's death, the noble gardens, the fine horses in their 
 stables, and all the male and female slaves." 
 
 Paaker laughed, but the laugh sounded so forced and 
 scornful that it cut Nefert to the heart, and she went on, 
 as if begging for indulgence : 
 
 " It was said that you were angry with us ; and now 
 you will take my words as if I had cared only for your 
 wealth ; but I said I liked you. Do you no longer re- 
 member how I cried with you over your tales of the bad 
 boys in the school, and over your father's severity ? Then 
 my uncle died — then you went to Asia." 
 
 ' ' And you, " interrupted Paaker, hardly and dryly, ' ' you 
 broke your betrothal vows, and became the wife of the 
 cha' -Qteer Mena. I know it all ; of what use is talking ! '' 
 
;o UARDA. 
 
 ** Because it grieves me that you should be angry, and 
 your good mother avoid our house. If only you could 
 know what it is when love seizes one, and one can no 
 longer even think alone, but only near, and with, and in 
 the very arms of another ; when one's beating heartthrobs 
 in one's very temples, and even in one's dreams one sees 
 nothing — but one only." 
 
 "And do I not know it ? " cried Paaker, placing himself 
 close before her with his arms crossed. "Do I not know 
 it ? and you it was who taught me to know it. When I 
 thought of you, not blood, but burning fire, coursed in 
 my veins, and now you have filled them with poison ; 
 and here in this breast, in which your image dwelt, as 
 lovely as that of Hathor in her holy of holies all is like 
 that sea in Syria which is called the Dead Sea, in which 
 everything that tries to live presently dies and perishes. " 
 
 Paaker's eyes rolled as he spoke, and his voice sounded 
 hoarsely as he went on. 
 
 "But Mena was near to the king — nearer than I, an6 
 your mother " 
 
 "My mother!" Nefert interrupted the angry Mohar. 
 " My mother did not choose my husband. I saw him 
 driving the chariot, and to me he resembled the Sun-god, 
 and he observed me, and looked at me, and his glance 
 pierced deep into my heart like a spear ; and when, at the 
 festival of the king's birthday, he spoke to me, it was just 
 as if Hathor had thrown round me a web of sweet, sound- 
 ing sunbeams. And it was the same with Mena ; he him- 
 self has told me so since I have been his wife. For your 
 sake my mother rejected his suit, but I grew pale and dull 
 with longing for him, and he lost his bright spirit, and 
 was so melancholy that the king remarked it, and asked 
 what weighed on his heart — for Rameses loves him as his 
 own son. Then Mena confessed to the Pharaoh that it 
 was love that dimmed his eye and weakened his strong 
 hand ; and then the king himself courted me for his faith- 
 ful servant, and my mother gave way, and we were made 
 man and wife, and all the joys of the justified in the fields 
 of Aalu * are shallow and feeble by the side of the bliss 
 
 * The fields of the blest, which were opened to glorified souls. In the 
 Book of the Dead it is shown that in them men linger, and sow and reap 
 by cool waters. 
 
UARDA. 71 
 
 which we two have known — not like mortal men, but like 
 the celestial gods." 
 
 Up to this point Nefert had fixed her large eyes on the 
 sky, like a glorified soul ; but now her gaze fell, and she 
 said softly : 
 
 " But the Cheta * disturbed our happiness, for the king 
 took Men a with him to the war. Fifteen times did the 
 moon rise upon our happiness, and then " 
 
 "And then the gods heard my prayer, and accepted my 
 offerings," said Paaker, with a trembling voice, "and tore 
 the robber of my joys from you, and scorched your heart 
 and his with desire. Do you think you can tell me any- 
 thing I do not know? Once again for fifteen days was 
 Mena yours, and now he has not returned again from the 
 war which is raging hotly in Asia." 
 
 "But he will return," cried the young wife. 
 
 ' ' Or possibly not, " laughed Paaker. * ' The Cheta carry 
 sharp weapons, and there are many vultures in Lebanon, 
 who perhaps at this hour are tearing his flesh as he tore 
 my heart." 
 
 Nefert rose at these words, her sensitive spirit bruised 
 as with stones thrown by a brutal hand, and attempted 
 to leave her shady refuge to follow the princess into the 
 house of the paraschites ; but her feet refused to bear her, 
 and she sank back trembling on her stone seat. She tried 
 to find words, but her tongue was powerless. Her powers 
 of resistance forsook her in her unutterable and soul-felt 
 distress — heart-wrung, forsaken and provoked. 
 
 A variety of painful sensations raised a hot, vehement 
 storm in her bosom, which checked her breath, and at last 
 found relief in a passionate and convulsive weeping that 
 shook her whole body. She saw nothing more, she heard 
 nothing more, she only shed tears and felt herself miser- 
 able. 
 
 Paaker stood over her in silence. 
 
 There are trees in the tropics on which white blossoms 
 hang close by the withered fruit ; there are days when the 
 pale moon shows itself near the clear bright sun ; and it 
 
 * An Aramaean race, according to Schrader's excellent judgment. At 
 the time of our story the peoples of western Asia had allied themselves 
 to them. 
 
72 
 
 UARDA- 
 
 is given to the soul of man to feel love and hatred both 
 at the same time, and to direct both to the same end. 
 
 Nefert's tears fell as dew, her sobs as manna on the sou\ 
 of Paaker, v^^hich hungered and thirsted for revenge. Her 
 pain was joy to him, and yet the sight of her beauty filled 
 him with passion ; his gaze lingered spell-bound on her 
 graceful form ; he would have given all the bliss of Heaven 
 once, only once, to hold her in his arms — once, only once, 
 to hear a word of love from her lips. 
 
 After some minutes Nefert's tears grew less violent. 
 With a weary, almost indifferent gaze she looked at the 
 Mohar, still standing before her, and said in a soft tone of 
 entreaty : 
 
 "My tongue is parched, fetch me a little water." 
 
 "The princess may come out at any moment," replied 
 Paaker. 
 
 "But I am fainting," said Nefert, and began again to 
 cry gently. 
 
 Paaker shrugged his shoulders, and went further into 
 the valley, which he knew as well as his father's house ; 
 for in it was the tomb of his mother's ancestors, in which 
 as a boy he had put up prayers at every full and new moon 
 and laiti gifts on the altar. 
 
 The hut of the paraschites was prohibited to him, but he 
 knew that scarcely a hundred paces from the spot where 
 Nefert was sitting lived an old woman of evil repute, in 
 whose hole in the rock he could not fail to find a drink oi 
 water. 
 
 He hastened forward, half intoxicated with all he had 
 seen and felt within the last few minutes. 
 
 The door, which at night closed the cave against the in- 
 trusions of the plunder-seeking jackals, was wide open 
 and the old woman sat outside under a ragged piece of 
 brown sail-cloth, fastened at one end to the rock and at 
 the other to two posts of rough wood. She was sorting a 
 heap of dark and light-colored roots, which lay in her lap. 
 Near her was a wheel, which turned in a high wooden 
 fork. A wryneck was made fast to it by a little chain, 
 and by springing from spoke to spoke kept it in continual 
 motion. A large black cat crouched beside her, and smelt 
 at some ravens' and owls' heads, from which the eyes had 
 not long since been extw "ted. 
 
UARDA. 73 
 
 Two sparrow-hawks sat huddled up over the door of the 
 cave, out of which came the sharp odor of burning juniper- 
 berries ; this was intended to render the various emana* 
 tions rising from the different strange substances, which 
 were collected and preserved there, innocuous. 
 
 As Paaker approached the cavern the old woman called 
 out to some one within : 
 
 ** Is the wax cooking ? " 
 
 An unintelligible murmur was heard in answer. 
 
 "Then throw in the ape's eyes,* and the ibis-feathers, 
 and the scraps of linen with the black signs on them. 
 Stir it all a little ; now put out the fire. Take the jug 
 and fetch some water — make haste, here comes a stranger." 
 
 A sooty-black negro woman, with a piece of torn color- 
 less stuff hanging round her hips, set a large clay jar on 
 her gray woolly matted hair, and without looking at him 
 went past Paaker, who was now close to the cave. 
 
 The old woman, a tall figure bent with years, with a 
 sharply-cut and wrinkled face that might once have been 
 handsome, made her preparations for receiving the visitor 
 by tying a gaudy kerchief over her head, fastening her 
 blue cotton garment round her throat, and flinging a fiber 
 mat over the birds' heads. 
 
 Paaker called out to her, but she feigned to be deaf 
 and not to hear his voice. Only when he stood quite 
 close to her did she raise her shrewd, twinkling eyes and 
 cried out : 
 
 ** A lucky day I a white day that brings a noble guest 
 and high honor." 
 
 ''Get up," commanded Paaker, not giving her any 
 greeting, but throwing a silver ringf among the roots that 
 lay in her lap, ** and give me in exchange for good money 
 some water in a clean vessel." 
 
 "Fine pure silver," said the old woman, while she held 
 the ring, which she had quickly picked out from the roots, 
 close to her eyes ; "it is too much for mere water, and too 
 little for my good liquors." 
 
 *The sentences and mediums employed by the witches, according to 
 papyrus-rolls which remain. I have availed myself of the magic papyrus 
 of Harris, and of two in the Berlin collection, one of which is in 
 Greek. 
 
 t The Egyptians had no coins before Alexander of Ptolemais, but 
 qsi^d metals f ot ^xch£^nge, usually in the form of rings. 
 
74 
 
 UARDA. 
 
 "Don't chatter, hussy, but make haste," cried Paake» 
 taking another ring from his money-bag and throwing v, 
 into her lap. 
 
 **Thou hast an open hand," said the old woman, speatc- 
 ing in the dialect of the upper classes ; "many doors m«st 
 be open to thee, for money is a pass-key that turns any 
 lock. Wouldst thou have water for thy good mon^^y ? 
 Shall it protect thee against noxious beasts ? Shall it tielp 
 thee to reach down a star? Shall it guide thee to j^ecret 
 paths ? It is thy duty to lead the way. Shall it make heat 
 cold, or cold warm ? Shall it give thee the power oi read- 
 ing hearts, or shall it beget beautiful dreams ? Wilt thou 
 drink of the water of knowledge and see whether thy 
 friend or thine enemy — ha ! if thine enemy snail die ? 
 Wouldst thou a drink to strengthen thy memorv ? Shall 
 the water make thee invisible? or remove the «ixth toe 
 from thy left foot?" 
 
 ** You know me? " asked Paaker. 
 
 " How should I ? " said the old woman, *' bu' my eyes 
 are sharp, and I can prepare good waters for great and 
 small." 
 
 "Mere babble I " exclaimed Paaker, impatiently, clutch- 
 ing at the whip in his girdle. ** Make haste, for the lady 
 for whom " 
 
 " Dost thou want the water for a lady ? " interrupted the 
 old woman. ' ' Who would have thought it ? Old men 
 certainly ask for my philters much oftener than young 
 ones ; but I can serve thee, I can serve thee. " 
 
 With these words the old woman went into the cave, 
 and soon returned with a thin cylindrical flask of alabaster 
 in her hand. 
 
 "This is the drink," she said, giving the phial to Paaker. 
 "Pour half into water, and offer it to the lady. If it does 
 not succeed at first it is certain the second time. A child 
 may drink the water and it will not hurt him, or if an old 
 man takes it, it makes him gay. Ah, I know the taste of 
 it ! " and she moistened her lips with the white fluid. 
 " It can hurt no one, but I will take no more of it, or old 
 Hekt will be tormented with love and longing for thee ; 
 and that would ill please the rich young lord, ha ! ha ! 
 If the drink is in vain I am paid enough; if it takes effect 
 tnou shalt bring me three more gold rings ; and thou wilt 
 return, I know it well" 
 
UARDA. 75 
 
 Paaker had listened motionless to the old woman, and 
 seized the flask eagerly, as if bidding defiance to some ad- 
 versary ; he put it in his money-bag, threw a few more 
 rings at the feet of the witch, and once more hastily de- 
 manded a bowl of Nile water. 
 
 ** Is my lord in such a hurry? " muttered the old woman, 
 once more going into the cave. '* He asks if I know him ? 
 him, certainly I do ; but the darling ? who can it be here- 
 abouts ? perhaps little Uarda at the paraschites yonder. 
 She is pretty enough ; but she is lying on a mat, run over 
 and dying. We must see what my lord means. He 
 would have pleased me well enough, if I were young ; but 
 he will reach the goal, for he is resolute and spares no 
 one." 
 
 While she muttered these and similar words, she filled a 
 graceful cup of glazed earthenware with filtered Nile 
 water which she poured out of a large porous clay jar, 
 and laid a laurel leaf, on which was scratched two hearts 
 linked together by seven strokes, on the surface of the 
 limpid fluid. Then she stepped out into the air again. 
 
 As Paaker took the vessel from her hand, and looked at 
 the laurel leaf, she said : 
 
 "This indeed binds hearts ; three is the husband, four 
 is the wife, seven is the indivisible. Chaach, chachach, 
 charcharachacha. " * 
 
 The old woman sang this spell not without skill ; but 
 the Mohar appeared not to listen to her jargon. He de- 
 scended carefully into the valley, and directed his steps 
 to the resting-place of the wife of Mena. 
 
 By the side of a rock, which hid him from Nefert, he 
 paused, set the cup on a flat block of stone, and drew the 
 flask with the philter out of his girdle. 
 
 His fingers trembled, but a thousand voices within 
 seemed to surge up and cry : 
 
 "Take it ! do it ! put in the drink ! Now or never \" 
 
 He felt like a solitary traveler who finds on his road the 
 last will of a relation whose possessions he had hoped for, 
 but which disinherits him. Shall he surrender it to the 
 judge, or shall he destroy it? 
 
 Paaker was not merely outwardly devout ; hitherto he 
 had in everything intended to act according to the pre- 
 * This jargon is found \n a magic papyrus at Berlin, 
 
 i 
 
76 UARDA. 
 
 scriptions of the religion of his fathers. Adultery was a 
 heavy sin ; but had not he an older right to Nefert than 
 the king's charioteer? 
 
 He who followed the black arts of magic, should, ac- 
 cording to the law, be punished by death, and the old 
 woman had a bad name for her evil arts ; but he had not 
 sought her for the sake of the philter. Was it not possible 
 that the Manes of his forefathers, that the gods themselves, 
 moved by his prayers and offerings, had put him in pos- 
 session, by an accident — which was almost a miracle — of 
 the magic potion whose efficacy he never for an instant 
 doubted ? 
 
 Paaker's associates held him to be a man of quick de- 
 cision, and, in fact, in difficult cases he could act with 
 unusual rapidity, but what guided him in these cases, was 
 not the swift-winged judgment of a prepared and well- 
 schooled brain, but usually only resulted from the out- 
 come of a play of question and answer. 
 
 Amulets of the most various kinds hung round his neck, 
 and from his girdle, all consecrated by priests, and of 
 special sanctity or the highest efficacy. 
 
 There was the lapis lazuli eye, which hung to his girdle 
 by a gold chain ; when he threw it on the ground, so as to 
 lie on the earth, if its engraved side turned to heaven and 
 its smooth side lay on the ground, he said, " yes ; " in the 
 other case, on the contrary, * ' no;" In his purse lay always 
 a statuette of the god Apheru, * who opened roads ; this he 
 threw down at cross-roads, and followed the direction 
 which the pointed snout of the image indicated. He fre- 
 quently called into council the seal-ring of his deceased 
 father, an old family possession, which the chief-priest of 
 Abydos had laid upon the holiest of the fourteen graves of 
 Osiris, and endowed with miraculous power, f It consisted 
 of a gold ring with a broad signet, on which could be read 
 the name of Thotmes III. , who had long since been deified, 
 and from whom Paaker's ancestors had derived it. If it 
 
 * A particular form of Anubis — ^as was the jackal-headed local divinity 
 of Lykopolis, the modern Sint 
 
 t Typhon cut the body of Osiris into fourteen pieces, and then strewed 
 them in Egypt. When Isis found one of them she erected a monument 
 to her husband. In later times none of these was reckoned more holy 
 that of Abydos, whither also Egyptians oi rank h^d their muirimies con- 
 veyed to rest in the vicinity of Os^iris, 
 
UARDA. 
 
 77 
 
 were desirable to consult the ring-, the Mohar touched ith 
 the point of his bronze dagger the engraved sign of the 
 name, below which were represented three objects sacred 
 to the gods, and three that were, on the contrary, profane. 
 If he hit one of the former, he concluded that his father — 
 who was gone to Osiris — concurred in his design ; in the 
 contrary case he was careful to postpone it. Often he 
 pressed the ring to his heart and awaited the first living 
 creature that he might meet, regarding it as a messenger 
 from his father ; if it came to him from the right hand as 
 an encouragement, if from the left as a warning. 
 
 By degrees he had reduced these questionings to a sys- 
 tem. All that he found in nature he referred to himself 
 and the current of his life. It was at once touching and 
 pitiful to see how closely he lived with the Manes of his 
 dead. His lively but not exalted fancy, whenever he gave 
 it play, presented to the eye of his soul the image of his 
 father and of an elder brother who had died early, always 
 in the same spot, and almost tangibly distinct. 
 
 But he never conjured up the remembrance of the be- 
 loved dead in order to think of them with silent melan- 
 choly — that sweet blossom of the thorny wreath of sorrow ; 
 only for selfish ends. The appeal to the Manes of his 
 father he had found especially efficacious in certain desires 
 and difficulties ; calling on the Manes of his brother was 
 potent in certain others ; and so he turned from one to the 
 other with the precision of a carpenter, who rarely doubts 
 whether he should give the preference to a hatchet or a 
 saw. 
 
 These doings he held to be well-pleasing to the gods, . 
 and as he was convinced that the spirits of his dead had, 
 after their justification, passed into Osiris — that is to say, 
 as atoms forming part of the great world-soul, at this time 
 had a share in the direction of the universe — he sacrificed 
 to them not only in the family catacomb, but also in the 
 temples of the Necropolis dedicated to the worship of 
 ancestors, and with special preference in the House of 
 Seti. 
 
 He accepted advice, nay, even blame, from Ameni and 
 the other priests under his direction ; and so lived full of a 
 virtuous pride in being one of the most zealous devotees 
 in the land, and one of the most pleasing to the gods, a 
 belief on which his pastors never threw any doubt. 
 
yg ' UARDA. 
 
 Attended and guided at every step by supernatural 
 powers, he wanted no friend and no confidant. In the 
 field, as in Thebes, he stood apart and passed among his 
 comrades for a reserved man, rough and proud, but with a 
 strong will. 
 
 He had the power of calling up the image of his lost 
 love with as much vividness as the forms of the dead, and 
 indulged in this magic not only through a hundred still 
 nights, but in long rides and drives through silent wastes. 
 
 Such visions were commonly followed by a vehement 
 and boiling overflow of his hatred against the charioteer, 
 and a whole series of fervent prayers for his destruction. 
 
 When Paaker set the cup of water for Nefert on the 
 flat stone and felt for the philter, his soul was so full of 
 desire that there was no room for hatred ; still he could 
 not altogether exclude the idea that he would commit 
 a great crime by making use of a magic drink. Before 
 pouring the fateful drops into the water he would consult 
 the oracle of the ring. The dagger touched none of the 
 holy symbols of the inscription on the signet, and in other 
 circumstances he would, without going any further, have 
 given up his project. 
 
 But this time he unwillingly returned it to its sheath, 
 pressed the gold ring to his heart, muttered the name of 
 his brother in Osiris, and awaited the first living creature 
 that might come toward him. 
 
 He had not long to wait ; from the mountain slope op- 
 posite to him rose, with heavy, slow wing-strokes, two 
 light colored vultures. 
 
 In anxious suspense he followed their flight as they rose 
 higher and higher. For a moment they poised motion- 
 less, borne up by the air, circled round each other, then 
 wheeled to the left and vanished behind the mountains, 
 denying him the fulfillment of his desire. 
 
 He hastily grasped the phial to fling it from him, but 
 the surging passion in his veins had deprived him of his 
 self-control. Nefert's image stood before him as if beck- 
 oning him ; a mysterious power cHnched his fingers close 
 and yet closer round the phial, and with the same defiance 
 which he showed to his associates, he poured half of the 
 philter into the cup and approached his victim. 
 
 Nefert had meanwhile left her shady retreat and came 
 toward him. 
 
UARDA. 79 
 
 She silently accepted the water he offered her, and 
 drank it with delight to the very dregs. 
 
 ** Thank you," she said, when she had recovered breath 
 after her eager draught. ' ' That has done me good ! How 
 fresh and acid the water tastes ; but your hand shakes, 
 and you are heated by your quick run for nr.e — poor man." 
 
 With these words she looked at him .idth a peculiar ex- 
 pressive glance of her large eyes, and gave him her right 
 hand which he pressed wildly to his lips. 
 
 "That will do," she said, smiling; *'here comes the 
 princess with a priest, out of the hovel of the unclean. 
 With what frightful words you terrified me just now. It 
 is true I gave you just cause to be angry with me ; but 
 now you are kind again — do you hear ? — and will bring 
 your mother again to see mine. Not a word. I shall see, 
 whether cousin Paaker refuses me obedience." 
 
 She threatened him playfully with her finger and then 
 growing grave she added, with a look that pierced Paaker's 
 heart with pain and yet with ecstasy, *•' Let us leave off 
 quarreling. It is so much better when people are kind to 
 each other." 
 
 After these words she walked toward the house of the 
 paraschites, while Paaker pressed his hands to his breast, 
 and murmured : 
 
 ''The drink is working and she will be mine. I thank 
 ye — ye immortals ! " 
 
 But this thanksgiving, which hitherto he had never failed 
 to utter when any good fortune had befallen him, to-day 
 died on his lips. Close before him he saw the goal of his 
 desires ; there, under his eyes, lay the magic spring longed 
 for for years. A few steps further, and he might slake at 
 its copious stream his thirst both for love and for revenge. 
 
 While he followed the wife of Mena, and replaced the 
 phial carefully in his girdle, so as to lose no drop of the 
 precious fluid which, according to the prescription of the 
 old woman, he needed to use again, warning voices spoke 
 in his breast, to which he usually listened as to a fatherly 
 admonition ; but at this moment he mocked at them, and 
 even gave outward expression to the mood that ruled him 
 — for he flung up his right hand like a drunken man, who 
 turns away from the preacher of morality on his way to 
 the wine-cask ; and yet passion held him so closely en- 
 
8o UARDA. 
 
 snared that the thought that he should live through the 
 swift moments which would change him from an honest 
 man into a criminal hardly dawned darkly on his soul. 
 He had hitherto dared to indulge his desire for love and 
 revenge in thought only, and had left it to the gods to 
 act for themselves ; now he had taken his cause out of 
 the hand of the Celestials, and gone into action without 
 them and in spite of them. 
 
 The sorceress Hekt passed him ; she wanted to see the 
 woman for whom she had given him the philter. He 
 perceived her and shuddered, but soon the old woman 
 vanished among the rocks muttering : 
 
 ''Look at the fellow with six toes. He makes himself 
 comfortable with the heritage of Assa.'' 
 
 In the middle of the valley walked Nefert and the 
 pioneer, with the Princess Bent-Anat and Pentaur, who 
 accompanied her. 
 
 When these two had come out of the hut of the paras- 
 chites they stood opposite each other in silence. 
 
 The royal maiden pressed her hand to her heart, and, 
 like one who is thirsty, drank in the pure air of the mount- 
 ain valley with deeply drawn breath ; she felt as if released 
 from some overwhelming burden, as if delivered from son\e 
 frightful danger. 
 
 At last she turned to her companion, who gazed earnestly 
 at the ground. 
 
 '' What an hour ! " she said. 
 
 Pentaur's tall figure did not move, but he bowed his 
 head in assent, as if he were in a dream. 
 
 Bent-Anat now saw him for the first time in full day- 
 light ; her large eyes rested on him with admiration, and 
 she asked : 
 
 " Art thou the priest, w^ho, yesterday after my first visit 
 to this house, so readily restored me to cleanness ? " 
 
 " I am he," replied Pentaur. 
 
 " I recognized thy voice, and I am grateful to thee, for 
 it was thou that didst strengthen my courage to follow the 
 impulse of my heart in spite of my spiritual guides, and to 
 come here again. Thou wilt defend me if others blame 
 me." 
 
 " I came here to pronounce thee unclean." 
 
 ** Then thou hast changed thy mind? " asked Bent-Anat, 
 and a smile of contempt curled her lips. 
 
UARDA. 8l 
 
 " I follow a high injunction, that commands us to keep 
 the old institutions sacred. If touching a paraschites, it is 
 said, does not defile a princess, whom then can it defile ? 
 for whose garment is more spotless than hers ? " 
 
 *' But this is a good man with all his meanness," inter- 
 rupted Bent-Anat, ''and in spite of the disgrace, which is 
 the bread of life to him as honor is to us. May the nine 
 great Gods forgive me ! but he who is in there is loving, 
 pious and brave, and pleases me — and thou, thou, who 
 didst think yesterday to purge away the taint of his touch 
 with a word — what prompts thee to-day to cast him with 
 the lepers ? " 
 
 ** The admonition of an enlightened man, never to give 
 up any link of the old institutions ; because thereby the 
 already weakened chain may be broken, and fall rattling 
 to the ground." 
 
 " Then thou condemnestme to uncleanness for the sake 
 of an old superstition, and of the populace, but not for 
 my actions ? Thou art silent ? Answer me now, if thou 
 art such a one as I took thee for, freely and sincerely ; for 
 it concerns the peace of my soul." 
 
 Pentaur breathed hard ; and then from the depths of 
 his soul, tormented by doubts, these deeply-felt words 
 forced themselves as if wrung from him ; at first softly, 
 but louder as he went on. 
 
 " Th.ou dost compel me to say what I had better not 
 even think ; but rather will I sin against obedience than 
 against truth, the pure daughter of the Sun, whose aspect, 
 Bent-Anat, thou dost wear. Whether the paraschites is 
 unclean by birth or not, who am I that I should decide ? 
 But to me this man appeared — as to thee — as one moved 
 by the same pure and holy emotions as stir and bless rne 
 and mine, and thee and every soul born of woman ; and I 
 believe that the impressions of this hour have touched thy 
 soul as well as mine, not to taint but to purify. If I am 
 wrong, may the many-named Gods forgive me. Whose 
 breath lives and works in the paraschites as well as in thee 
 and me, in Whom I believe, and to Whom I will ever 
 address my humble songs louder and more joyfully as I 
 learn that all that lives and breathes, that weeps and re- 
 joices, is the image of their sublime nature, and born to 
 equal joy and equal sorrow," 
 6 
 
82 UARDA. 
 
 Pentaur had raised his eyes to heaven ; now they met 
 the proud and joyful radiance of the princess' glance, while 
 she frankly offered him her hand. He humbly kissed her 
 robe, but she said : 
 
 ** Nay — not so. Lay thy hand in blessing- on mine. 
 Thou art a man and a true priest. Now I can be satisfied 
 to be regarded as unclean, for my father also desires that 
 by us especially the institutions of the past that have so 
 long continued should be respected, for the sake of the 
 people. Let us pray in common to the gods, that these 
 poor people may be released from the old ban. How 
 beautiful the world might be, if men would but let man 
 remain what the Celestials have made him. But Paaker 
 and poor Nefert are waiting in the scorching sun — come, 
 follow me." 
 
 She went forward, but after a few steps she turned round 
 to him, and asked : 
 
 "What is thy name?" 
 
 ** Pentaur." 
 
 " Thou, then, art the poet of the house of Seti ? " 
 
 **They call me so." 
 
 Bent-Anat stood still a moment, gazing full at him as at 
 a kinsman whom we meet for the first time face to face, 
 and said : 
 
 "The gods have given thee great gifts, for thy glance 
 reaches further and pierces deeper than that of other men ; 
 and thou canst say in words what we can only feel — I 
 follow thee willingly ! " 
 
 Pentaur blushed like a boy, and said, while Paaker and 
 Nefert came nearer to them : 
 
 "Till to-day life lay before me as if in twilight; but 
 this moment shows it to me in another light. I have seen 
 its deepest shadows ; and," he added in a low tone, " how 
 glorious its light can be." 
 
 CHAPTER Vn. 
 
 An hour later, Bent-Anat and her train of followers stood, 
 before the gate of the House of Seti. 
 
 Swift as a ball thrown from a man's hand, a runner hac 
 
UARDA. 83 
 
 sprung forward and hurried on to announce the approach 
 of the princess to the chief priest. She stood alone in her 
 chariot in advance of all her companions, for Pentaur had 
 found a place with Paaker. At the gate of the temple they 
 were met by the head of the haruspices. 
 
 The great doors of the Pylon were wide open, and 
 afforded a view into the forecourt of the sanctuary, paved 
 with polished squares of stone, and surrounded on three 
 sides with colonnades. The walls and architraves, the 
 pillars and the fluted cornice, which slightly curved in 
 over the court, were gorgeous with many-colored figures 
 and painted decorations. In the middle stood a great 
 sacrificial altar, on which burned logs of cedar wood, 
 while fragrant balls of Kyphi* were consumed by the 
 flames, filling the wide space with their heavy perfume. 
 Around, in semicircular array, stood more than a hundred 
 white-robed priests, who all turned to face the approach- 
 ing princess, and sang heart-rending songs of lamenta- 
 tion. 
 
 Many of the inhabitants of the Necropolis had collected 
 on either side of the lines of sphinxes, between which the 
 princess drove up to the sanctuary. But none asked what 
 these songs of lamentation might signify, for about this 
 sacred place lamentation and mystery forever lingered. 
 **Hail to the child of Rameses ! " ''All hail to the 
 daughter of the Sun ! " rang from a thousand throats ; and 
 the assembled multitude bowed almost to the earth at the 
 approach of the royal maiden. 
 
 At the Pylon, the princess descended from her chariot, 
 and preceded by the chief of the haruspices, who had 
 gravely and silently greeted her, passed on to the door of 
 the temple. But as she prepared to cross the forecourt, 
 suddenly, without warning, the priests' chant swelled to 
 a terrible, almost thundering loudness, the clear, shrill 
 voices of the Temple scholars rising in passionate lament, 
 supported by the deep and threatening roll of the basses. 
 
 * Kyphi was a celebrated Egyptian incense. Recipes for its prepara* 
 tion have been preserved in the papyrus of Ebers, in the laboratories of 
 the temples, and elsewhere. Parthey had three different varieties pre- 
 pared by the chemist, L. Voigt, in Berlin. Kyphi, after the formula of 
 Dioskorides, was the best. It consisted of rosin, wine, Rad, Galangae, 
 
 4'uniper-berries, the root of the aromatic rush, asphalt, mastic, myrrh, 
 Jurgundy grapes, and honey. 
 
84 UARDA. 
 
 Bent-Anat started and checked her steps. Then sh6 
 walked on again. 
 
 But on the threshold of the door, Ameni, in full pontifical 
 robes, stood before her in the way, his crozier extended as 
 though to forbid her entrance. 
 
 "The advent of the daughter of Rameses in her purity," 
 he cried in loud and passionate tones, *' augurs blessing 
 to this sanctuary ; but this abode of the gods closes its 
 portals on the unclean, be they slaves or princes. In the 
 name of the Immortals, from whom thou art descended, I 
 ask thee, Bent-Anat, art thou clean, or hast thou, through 
 the touch of the unclean, defiled thyself and contaminated 
 thy royal hand ? " 
 
 Deep scarlet flushed the maiden's cheeks, there was a 
 rushing sound in her ears as of a stormy sea surging close 
 beside her, and her bosom rose and fell in passionate emo- 
 tion. The kingly blood in her veins boiled wildly ; she 
 felt that an unworthy part had been assigned to her in a 
 carefully-premeditated scene ; she forgot her resolution 
 to accuse herself of uncleanness, and already her lips were 
 partedin vehement protest against the priestly assumption 
 that so deeply stirred her to rebellion, when Ameni, who 
 had placed himself directly in front of the princess, raised 
 his eyes, and turned them full upon her with all the 
 depths of their indwelling earnestness. 
 
 The words died away, and Bent-Anat stood silent, but 
 she endured the gaze, and returned it proudly and 
 defiantly. 
 
 The blue veins started in Ameni's forehead, yet he re- 
 pressed the resentment which was gathering like thunder- 
 clouds in his soul, and said, with a voice that gradually 
 deviated more and more from its usual moderation : 
 
 **For the second time the gods demand through me, 
 their representative : Hast thou entered this holy place in 
 order that the Celestials may purge thee of the defilement 
 that stains thy body and soul ? " 
 
 **My father will communicate the answer to thee," 
 replied Bent-Anat, shortly and proudly. 
 
 "Not to me," returned Ameni, "but to the gods, in 
 whose name I now command thee to quit this sanctuary, 
 which is defiled by thy presence." 
 
 Bent-Anat's whole frame quivered. "I will go," she 
 said With sullen dignity. 
 
UARDA. 85 
 
 She turned to recross the gateway of the Pylon. At 
 the first step her glance met the eye of the poet. 
 
 As one to whom it is vouchsafed to stand and gaze at 
 some great prodigy, so Pentaur had stood opposite the 
 royal maiden, uneasy and yet fascinated, agitated, yet with 
 secretly uplifted soul. Her deed seemed to him of bound- 
 less audacity, and yet one suited to her true and noble 
 nature. By her side, Ameni, his revered and admired 
 master, sank into insignificance ; and when she turned 
 to leave the temple, his hand was raised indeed to hold 
 h6r back, but as his glance met hers, his hand refused its 
 office, and sought instead to still the throbbing of his over- 
 flowing heart. 
 
 The experienced priest, meanwhile, read the features 
 of these two guileless beings like an open book. A quickly 
 formed tie, he felt, linked their souls, and the look which 
 he saw them exchange startled him. The rebellious prin- 
 cess had glanced at the poet as though claiming approba- 
 tion for her triumph, and Pentaur's eyes had responded to 
 the appeal. 
 
 One instant Ameni paused. Then he cried *'Bent- 
 Anat 1 " 
 
 The princess turned to the priest, and looked at him 
 gravely and inquiringly. 
 
 Ameni took a step forward, and stood between her and 
 the poet. 
 
 "Thou wouldst challenge the gods to combat," he said 
 sternly. **That is bold ; but such daring it seems to me 
 has grown up in thee because thou canst count on an ally, 
 who stands scarcely farther from the Immortals than I 
 myself Hear this : to thee, the misguided child, much 
 maybe forgiven. But a servant of the Divinity," and 
 with these words he turned a threatening glance on Pen- 
 taur, **a priest, who in the war of free-will against law 
 becomes a deserter, who forgets his duty and his oath — 
 he will not long stand beside thee to support thee, for he — 
 even though every God had blessed him with the richest 
 gifts — ^he is damned. We drive him from among us, we 
 curse him, we " 
 
 At these words Bent-Anat looked now at Ameni, trem- 
 bling with excitement, and now at Pentaur standing oppo- 
 site to her. Her face was red and white by turns, as light 
 
86 UARDA. 
 
 and shade chase each other on the ground when at nooiv 
 
 day a palm grove is stirred by a storm. 
 
 The poet took a step toward her. 
 
 She felt that if he spoke it would be to defend ail that 
 she had done, and to ruin himself. A deep sympathy, 
 a nameless anguish seized her soul, and before Pentaur 
 could open his Hps, she had sunk slowly down before 
 Ameni, saying in low tones : 
 
 *'I have sinned and defiled myself; thou hast said it — 
 as Pentaur said it by the hut of the paraschites. Restore 
 me to cleanness, Ameni, for I am unclean." 
 
 Like a flame that is crushed out by a hand, so the fire 
 in the high-priest's eye was extinguished. Graciously, 
 almost lovingly, he looked down on the princess, blessed 
 her and conducted her before the holy of holies, there had 
 clouds of incense wafted round her, anointed her with 
 the nine holy oils, and commanded her to return to the 
 royal castle. 
 
 Yet, said he, her guilt was not expiated; she should 
 shortly learn by what prayers and exercises she might 
 attain once more to perfect purity before the gods, of 
 whom he purposed to inquire in the holy place. 
 
 During all these ceremonies the priests stationed in the 
 forecourt continued their lamentations. 
 
 The people standing before the temple listened to the 
 priests' chant, and interrupted it from time to time with 
 ringing cries of wailing, for already a dark rumor of 
 what was going on within had spread among the mul- 
 titude. 
 
 The sun was going down. The visitors to the Necropo- 
 lis must soon be leaving it, and Bent-Anat, for whose ap- 
 pearance the people impatiently waited, would not show 
 herself. One and another said the princess had been 
 cursed, because she had taken remedies to the fair and 
 injured Uarda, who was known to many of them. 
 
 Among the curious who had flocked together were 
 many embalmers, laborers and humble folk, who lived 
 in the Necropolis. The mutinous and refractory temper 
 of the Egyptians, which brought such heavy suffering on 
 them under their later foreign rulers, was aroused, and rising 
 with every minute. They reviled the pride of the priests, 
 and their senseless, worthless, institutions. A drunken 
 
UARDA. Sy 
 
 soldier, who soon reeled back into the tavern which he had 
 but just left, distinguished himself as ringleader, and 
 was the first to pick up a heavy stone to fling at the huge 
 brass-plated temple gates. A few boys followed his ex- 
 ample with shouts, and law-abiding men even, urged by 
 the clamor of fanatical women, let themselves be led away 
 to stone-flinging and words of abuse. 
 
 Within the House of Seti the priests' chant went on un- 
 interruptedly ; but at last, when the noise of the crowd 
 grew louder, the great gate was thrown open, and with a 
 solemn step Ameni, in full robes, and followed by twenty 
 pastophori, who bore images of the gods and holy symbols 
 on their shoulders — Ameni walked into the midst of the 
 crowd. 
 
 All were silent. 
 
 * * Wherefore do you disturb our worship ? " he asked, 
 loudly and calmly. 
 
 A roar of confused cries answered him, in which the 
 frequently repeated name of Bent-Anat could alone be dis- 
 tinguished. 
 
 Ameni preserved his immovable composure, and raising 
 his crozier, he cried : 
 
 " Make way for the daughter of Rameses, who sought 
 and has found purification from the gods, who behold the 
 guilt of the highest as of the lowest among you. They re- 
 ward the pious, but they punish the offender. Kneel down 
 and let us pray that they may forgive you and bless both 
 you and your children." 
 
 Ameni took the holy Sistrum * from one of the at- 
 tendant pastophori, and held it on high ; the priests behind 
 him raised a solemn hymn, and the crowd sank on their 
 knees ; nor did they move till the chant ceased and the 
 high-priest again cried out : 
 
 * A rattling metal instrument used bj^ the Egyptians in the service oi 
 the Gods. Many specimens are extant in Museums. Plutarch describes 
 it correctly, thus : *' The Sistrum is rounded above, and the loop holds ihc 
 four bars which are shaken. On the bend of the Sistrum they often set 
 the head of a cat with a human face ; below the four little bars, on one 
 side is the face of Isis, on the other that of Nephthys." The cat head is 
 seen on a bronze Sistrum in the Berlin Museum ; on other examples we 
 find at the upper end of the handle the usual mask of Hathor. In the 
 sanctuary of this Goddess at Dendera the image of the holy Sistrum 
 was thrown into great prominence. 
 
88 UARDA. 
 
 **The Immortals bless you by me their servant. Leave 
 this spot and make way for the daughter of Rameses." 
 
 With these words he withdrew into the temple, and the 
 patrol, without meeting with any opposition, cleared the 
 road guarded by Sphinxes which led to the Nile. 
 
 As Bent-Anat mounted her chariot Ameni said : 
 
 "Thou art the child of kings. The house of thy father 
 rests on the shoulders of the people. Loosen the old laws 
 which hold them subject, and the people will conduct 
 themselves like these fools. " 
 
 Ameni retired. Bent-Anat slowly arranged the reins in 
 her hand, her eyes resting the while on the poet, who, lean- 
 ing against a door-post, gazed at her in beatitude. She 
 let her w^hip fall to the ground, that he might pick it up 
 and restore it to her, but he did not observe it. A runner 
 sprang forward and handed it to the princess, whose horses 
 started off, tossing themselves and neighing. 
 
 Pentaur remained as if spell-bound, standing by the 
 pillar, till the rattle of the departing wheels on the flag- 
 way of the Avenue of Sphinxes had altogether died away, 
 and the reflection of the glowing sunset painted the eastei n 
 hills with soft and rosy hues. 
 
 The far-sounding clang of a brass gong roused the po(irt 
 from his ecstasy. It was the tom-tom calling him to duty, 
 to the lecture on rhetoric, which at this hour he had to 
 deliver to the young priests. He laid his left hand to his 
 heart, and pressed his right hand to his forehead, as if to 
 collect in its grasp his wandering thoughts ; then silently 
 and mechanically he went toward the open court in which 
 his disciples awaited him. But instead of, as usual, con- 
 sidering on the way the subject he was to treat, his spirit 
 and heart were occupied with the occurrences of the last 
 few hours. One image reigned supreme in his imagination, 
 filling it with delight — it was that of the fairest woman, 
 who, radiant in her royal dignity and trembling with pride, 
 had thrown herself in the dust for his sake. He felt as if 
 her action had invested his whole being with a new and 
 princely worth, as if her glance had brought light to his 
 inmost soul, he seemed to breathe a freer air, to be borne 
 onward on winged feet. 
 
 In such a mood he appeared before his hearers. 
 
 When he found himself confronting all the well-known 
 
UARDA. 89 
 
 faces, he remembered what it was he was called upon to 
 do. He supported himself against the wall of the court, 
 and opened the papyrus-roll handed to him by his favoritQ 
 pupil, the young Anana. It was the book which twenty- 
 four hours ago he had promised to begin upon. He looked 
 now upon the characters that covered it, and felt that he 
 was unable to read a word. 
 
 With a powerful effort he collected himself, and looking 
 upward tried to find the thread he had cut at the end of 
 yesterday's lecture, and intended to resume to-day ; but 
 between yesterday and to-day, as it seemed to him, lay a 
 vast sea whose roaring surges stunned his memory and 
 powers of thought. 
 
 His scholars, squatting cross-legged on reed-mats before 
 him, gazed in astonishment on their silent master who was 
 usually so ready of speech, and looked inquiringly at each 
 other. A young priest whispered to his neighbor. ** He is 
 
 praying *' and Anana noticed with silent anxiety the 
 
 strong hand of his teacher clutching the manuscript so 
 tightly that the slight material of which it consisted 
 threatened to split. 
 
 At last Pentaur looked down ; he had found a subject. 
 While he was looking upward his gaze fell on the opposite 
 wall, and the painted name of the king with the accom- 
 panying title ' ' the good God " met his eye. Starting from 
 tliese words he put this question to his hearers, *' How do 
 we apprehend the Goodness of the Divinity ? " 
 
 He challenged one priest after another to treat this 
 subject as if he were standing before his future congre- 
 gation. 
 
 Several disciples rose, and spoke with more or less truth 
 and feeling. At last it came to Anana's turn, who, in well- 
 chosen words, praised the purposeful beauty of animate 
 and inanimate creation, in which the goodness of Amon,* 
 
 *Amon, that is to say, " the hidden one." He was the god of 
 Thebes, which was under his aegis, and after the Hyksos were expelled 
 from the Nile valley, he was united with Ra of Heliopolis and endowed 
 with the attributes of all the remaining gods. His nature was more and 
 more spiritualized, till in the esoteric philosophy of the time of the 
 Rameses he is compared to the All-filling and All-guiding intelligence 
 He is "the husband of his mother, his own father, and his own son." 
 As the living Osiris, he is the soul and spirit of all creation, which first 
 enters on a higher order of existence through him. He was " benevo* 
 
UARDA. 90 
 
 of Ra,I and Ptah,f as well as of the other gods, finds ex- 
 pression. 
 
 Pentaur listened to the youth with folded arms, now 
 looking at him inquiringly, now nodding approbation. 
 Then taking up the thread of the discourse when it was 
 ended, he began himself to speak. 
 
 Like obedient falcons at the call of the falconer^ thoughts 
 rushed down into his mind, and the divine p3.ssioi? 
 awakened in his breast glowed and shone through his in- 
 spired language that soared every moment on freer and 
 stronger wings. Melting into pathos, exulting in rapture, 
 he praised the splendor of nature ; and the words floweci 
 from his lips like a limpid crystal-clear stream as he glori- 
 fied the eternal order of things, and the incomprehensible 
 wisdom and care of the Creator — the One, who is one 
 alone, and great, and without equal. 
 
 ''So incomparable," he said in conclusion, " is ti)eha»^e 
 which God has given us. All that He — the oiie — has 
 created is penetrated with his own essence, and bears wit' 
 ncss to His goodness. He who knows how to find Him 
 sees Him everywhere, and lives at every instant in the en- 
 joyment of his glory. Seek Him, and when ye have 
 found Him fall down and sing praises before Him. But 
 praise the Highest, not only in gratitude for the splendor 
 of that which He has created, but for having given us ^he 
 capacity for delight in His work. Ascend the mountain- 
 lent," " beautiful," " without equal,'* and also was called the " annihi- 
 lator of evil " — by which man expressed his reverence fol the hidden 
 power which raises the good, and overthrows the wicked. He i& reorg- 
 nized by the tall double plume on his crown. He was represented with 
 a ram's head as Amon Chnem. 
 
 *Ra, originally the Sun-god; later his name was introduced into 
 the pantheistic mystic philosophy for that of the got? who is the 
 Universe. 
 
 t Ptah is the Greek Hephaistos, the oldest of the gods, the great mak^-r 
 of the material for the creation, the " first beginner," by whose side tho 
 seven Chnemu stand, as architects, to help him, and who was named 
 " the lord of truth," because the laws and conditions of being proceeded 
 from him. He created also the germ of light, he stood, therefore, at 
 the head of the solar gods, and was called the creator of ice, from which, 
 when he had cleft it, the sun and the moon came forth. Hence his 
 name "the opener." Memphis was the center of his worship, Apis his 
 sacred animal. In the mysteries of the under-world, and of immortality, 
 he appears usually under the name of Ptah Sodar Osiris, who grants 
 to the setting sun the power to rise again, as to the dea,d the power ot 
 resurrection. 
 
UARDA. 91 
 
 peaks and look on the distant country, worship when the 
 sunset glows with rubies, and the dawn with roses, go out 
 in the night-time, and look at the stars as they travel in 
 eternal, unerring, immeasurable, and endless circles on 
 silver barks through the blue vault of heaven, stand by 
 the cradle of the child, by the buds of the flowers, and 
 see how the mother bends over the one, and the bright 
 dewdrops fall on the other. But would you know where 
 the stream of divine goodness is most freely poured out, 
 where the grace of the Creator bestows the richest gifts, 
 and where His holiest altars are prepared ? In your own 
 heart ; so long as it is pure and full of love. In such a 
 heart, nature is reflected as in a magic-mirror, on whose 
 surface the beautiful shines in threefold beauty. There the 
 eye can reach far away over stream, and meadow, and hill, 
 and take in the whole circle of the earth ; there the morning 
 and evening red shine, not like roses and rubies, but like 
 the very cheeks of the Goddess of Beauty ; there the stars 
 circle on, not in silence, but with the mighty voices of 
 the pure eternal harmonies of heaven ; there the child 
 smiles like an infant-god, and the bud unfolds to magic 
 flowers ; finally, there thankfulness grows broader and 
 devotion grows deeper, and we throw ourselves into the 
 arms of a god, who — as I imagine his glory — is a god to 
 whom the sublime nine great gods pray as miserable and 
 helpless suppliants. " 
 
 The tom-tom which announced the end of the hour in- 
 terrupted him. 
 
 Pentaur ceased speaking with a deep sigh, and for a 
 minute not a scholar moved. 
 
 At last the poet laid the papyrus-roll out of his hand, 
 wiped the sweat from his hot brow, and walked slowly to- 
 ward the gate of the court, which led into the sacred grove 
 of the temple. He had hardly crossed the threshold when 
 he felt a hand laid upon his shoulder. 
 
 He looked round. Behind him stood Ameni. 
 
 "You fascinated your hearers, my friend," said the 
 high-priest, coldly ; "it is a pity that only the harp was 
 wanting." 
 
 Ameni's words fell on the agitated spirit of the poet like 
 ice on the breast of a man in fever. He knew this tone in 
 bis master's voice, for thus he was accustomed to reprove 
 
92 
 
 UARDA. 
 
 bad scholars and erring priests ; but to him he had never 
 yet so spoken. 
 
 *' It certainly would seem," continued the high-priest» 
 bitterly, **as if in your intoxication you had forgotten 
 what it becomes the teacher to utter in the lecture-hall. 
 Only a few weeks since you swore on my hands to guard 
 the mysteries, and this day you have offered the great 
 secret of the Unnameable one, the most sacred pos- 
 session of the initiated, like some cheap ware in the open 
 market. " 
 
 *' Thou cuttest with knives," said Pentaur. 
 
 *'May they prove sharp, and extirpate the undeveloped 
 canker, the rank weed from your soul," cried the high- 
 priest. " You are young, too young ; not like the tender 
 fruit-tree that lets itself be trained aright, and brought to 
 perfection, but like the green fruit on the ground, which 
 will turn to poison for the children who pick it up — yeii 
 even though it fall from a sacred tree. Gagabu and I to 
 ceived you among us, against the opinion of the majoritjr 
 of the initiated. We gainsaid all those who doubted your 
 ripeness because of your youth ; and you swore to me, 
 gratefully and enthusiastically, to guard the mysteries and 
 the law. To-day for the first time I set you on the battle- 
 field of life beyond the peaceful shelter of the schools. And 
 how have you defended the standard that it was incum- 
 bent on you to uphold and maintain ? " 
 
 ** I did that which seemed to me to be right and true," 
 answered Pentaur deeply moved. 
 
 " Right is the same for you as for us — what the law pre- 
 scribes ; and what is truth ? " 
 
 **None has lifted her veil," said Pentaur, ''but my soul 
 is the offspring of the soul-filled body of the All ; a portion 
 of the infallible spirit of the Divinity stirs in my breast, 
 and if it shows itself potent in me " 
 
 " How easily we may mistake the flattering voice of 
 self-love for that of the Divinity ! " 
 
 ''Cannot the Divinity which works and speaks in me— 
 as in thee — as in each of us — recognize Himself and His 
 own voice ? " 
 
 "If the crowd were to hear you," Ameni interrupted 
 him, "each would set himself on his little throne, would 
 proclaim the voice of the god within him as his guidie. 
 
UARDA. 93 
 
 tear the law to shreds, and let the fragments fly to the 
 desert on the east wind." 
 
 " I am one of the elect whom thou thyself hast taught 
 to seek and to find the One. The light which I gaze on 
 and am blest, would strike the crowd — I do not deny it — 
 with blindness " 
 
 **And nevertheless you blind our disciples with the 
 dangerous glare " 
 
 **I am educating them for future sages." 
 
 ** And that with the hot overflow of a heart intoxicated 
 with love ! " 
 
 '*Ameni!" 
 
 "I stand before you, uninvited, as your teacher, who 
 reproves you out of the law, which always and everywhere 
 is wiser than the individual, whose * defender ' the king — 
 among his highest titles — boasts of being, and to which 
 the sage bows as much as the common man whom we 
 bring up to blind belief — I stand before you as your father, 
 who has loved you from a child, and expected from none 
 of his disciples more than from you ; and who will there- 
 fore neither lose you nor abandon the hope he has set 
 upon you. 
 
 "Make ready to leave our quiet house early to-morrow 
 morning. You have forfeited your office of teacher. You 
 shall now go into the school of life, and make yourself fit 
 for the honored rank of the initiated which, by my error, 
 was bestowed on you too soon. You must leave yout 
 scholars without any leave-taking, however hard it may 
 appear to you. After the star of Sothis * has risen come 
 for your instructions. You must in these next months 
 try to lead the priesthood in the temple of Hatasu, and 
 in that post to win back my confidence which you have 
 thrown away. No remonstrance ; to-night you will re- 
 ceive my blessing, and our authority — you must greet 
 the rising sun from the terrace of the new scene of your 
 labors. May the Unnameable stamp the law upon your 
 soul ! " ^ 
 
 Ameni returned to his room. 
 
 * The holy star of Isis, Sirius, or the dog-star, whose course in the time 
 of the Pharaohs coincided with the exact solar year, and served at a very 
 early date as a foundation for the reckoning of time among the Egyp 
 tians. 
 
94 
 
 UARDA. 
 
 He walked restlessly to and fro. 
 
 Qn a little table lay a mirror ; he looked into the clear 
 metal pane, and laid it back in its place again, as if he had 
 seen some strange and displeasing countenance. 
 
 The events of the last few hours had moved him deeply, 
 and shaken his confidence in his unerring judgment of 
 men and things. 
 
 The priests on the other bank of the Nile were Bent- 
 Anat's counsellors, and he had heard the princess spoken 
 of as a devout and gifted maiden. Her incautious breach of 
 the sacred institutions had seemed to him to offer a welcome 
 opportunity for humiliating a member of the royal family. 
 
 Now he told himself that he had undervalued this young 
 creature, that he had behaved clumsily, perhaps foolishly, 
 to her ; for he did not for a moment conceal from himself 
 that her sudden change of demeanor resulted much more 
 from the warm flow of her sympathy, or perhaps of her 
 affection, than from any recognition of her guilt, and he 
 could not utilize her transgression with safety to himself, 
 unless she felt herself guilty. 
 
 Nor was he of so great a nature as to be wholly free 
 from vanity, and his vanity had been deeply wounded by 
 the haughty resistance of the princess. 
 
 When he commanded Pentaur to meet the princess with 
 words of reproof, he had hoped to awaken his ambition 
 through the proud sense of power over the mighty ones of 
 the earth. 
 
 And now ? 
 
 How had his gifted admirer, the most hopeful of all his 
 disciples, stood the test. 
 
 The one ideal of his life, the unlimited dominion of the 
 priestly idea over the minds of men, and of the priesthood 
 over the king himself, had hitherto remained unintelligible 
 to this singular young man. 
 
 He must learn to understand it. 
 
 '*Here, as the least among a hundred who are his 
 superiors, all the powers of resistance of his soaring soul 
 have been roused," said Ameni to himself. '*ln the 
 temple of Hatasu he will have to rule over the inferior 
 orders of slaughterers of victims and incense-burners ; and, 
 by requiring obedience, will learn to estimate the neces- 
 sity of it. The rebel, to whom a throne devolves, becomes 
 a tyrant J" 
 
UARDA. 95 
 
 " Pentaur's poet soul," so he continued to reflect, "has 
 quickly yielded itself a prisoner to the charm of Bent- 
 Anat ; and what woman could resist this highly favored 
 being, who is radiant in beauty as Ra-Harmachis, and from 
 whose lips flows speech as sweet as Techuti's. They 
 ought never to meet again, for no tie must bind him to the 
 house of Rameses." 
 
 Again he paced to and fro, and murmured : 
 
 ' ' How is this ? Two of my disciples have towered above 
 their fellows, in genius and gifts, like palm-trees above the 
 undergrowth. I brought them up to succeed me, to in- 
 herit my labors and my hopes. 
 
 *'Mesu * fell away ; and Pentaur may follow him. 
 
 *' Must my aim be an unworthy one because it does not 
 attract the noblest ? Not so. Each feels himself made of 
 better stuff than his companions in destiny, constitutes 
 his own law, and fears to see the great expended in trifles ; 
 but I think otherwise ; like a brook of ferruginous water 
 from Lebanon, I mix with the great stream, and tinge it 
 with my color." 
 
 Thinking thus Ameni stood still. 
 
 Then he called to one of the so-called "holy fathers," 
 his private secretary, and said :   
 
 "Draw up at once a document, to be sent to all the 
 priests' colleges in the land. Inform them that the 
 daughter of Rameses has lapsed seriously from the law, 
 and defiled herself, and direct that public — you hear me, 
 public — prayers shall be put up for her purification in 
 every temple. Lay the letter before me to be signed within 
 an hour. But no ! Give me your reed and palette ; I will 
 myself draw up the instructions." 
 
 The "holy father" gave him writing materials, and 
 retired into the background. Ameni muttered : " The 
 king will do us some unheard-of violence ! Well, this 
 writing may be the first arrow in opposition to his lance. " 
 
 * Mesu is the Egyptian name of Moses, whom we may consider as a 
 contemporary of Rameses, under whose successor the exodus of the 
 Jews from Egypt took plac«. 
 
^6 UARDA 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The moon was risen over the city of the living that lay 
 opposite the Necropolis of Thebes. 
 
 The evening song had died away in the temples, that 
 fitood about a mile from the Nile, connected with each 
 other by avenues of sphinxes and pylons ; but in the 
 streets of the city life seemed only just really awake. 
 
 The coolness, which had succeeded the heat of the sum- 
 mer day, tempted the citizens out into the air, in front of 
 their doors or on the roofs and turrets of their houses ; or 
 at the tavern-tables, where they listened to the tales of the 
 story-tellers while they refreshed themselves with beer, 
 wine, and the sweet juice of fruits. Many simple folks 
 squatted in circular groups on the ground, and joined in 
 the burden of songs which were led by an appointed singer, 
 to the sound of a tabor and flute. 
 
 To the south of the temple of Amon stood the king's 
 palace, and near it, in more or less extensive gardens, rose 
 the houses of the magnates of the kingdom, among which 
 one was distinguished by its splendor and extent. 
 
 Paaker, the king's pioneer, had caused it to be erected 
 after the death of his father, in the place of the more 
 homely dwelling of his ancestors, when he hoped to bring 
 home his cousin, and install her as its mistress. 
 
 A few yards farther to the west was another stately 
 though older and less splendid house, which Mena, the 
 king's charioteer, had inherited from his father, and which 
 was inhabited by his wife Nefert and her mother Katuti, 
 while he himself, in the distant Syrian land, shared the 
 tent of the king, as being his body guard. 
 
 Betore the aoor of each house stood servants bearing 
 torches, and awaiting the long deferred return home of 
 their masters. 
 
 The gate, which gave admission to Paaker's plot of 
 ground through the wall which surrounded it, Avas dispro- 
 portionately, almost ostentatiously, high and decorated 
 with various paintings. On the right hand an4 on the 
 
UARDA. 97 
 
 left, two cedar-trunks were erected as masts to carry- 
 standards ; he had had them felled for the purpose on 
 Lebanon, and forwarded by ship to Pelusium on the north- 
 east coast of Egypt. Thence they were conveyed by the 
 Nile to Thebes. 
 
 On passing thiough the gate one entered a wide, paved 
 courtyard,* at the sides of which walks extended, closed 
 in at the back, and with roofs supported on slender painted 
 wooden columns. Here stood the pioneer's horses and 
 chariots, here dwelt his slaves, and here the necessary 
 store of produce for the month's requirements was kept. 
 
 In the further wall of this store-court was a very high 
 doorway, that led into a large garden with rows of well- 
 tended trees and trellised vines, clumps of shrubs, flowers, 
 and beds of vegetables. Palms, sycamores, and acacia- 
 trees, figs, pomegranates, and jasmine throve here particu- 
 larly well — for Paaker's mother, Setchem, superintended 
 the labors of the gardeners ; and in the large tank in the 
 midst there was never any lack of water for watering the 
 beds and the roots of the trees, as it was always supplied 
 by two canals, into which wheels turned by oxen poured 
 water day and night from the Nile-stream. 
 
 On the right side of this plot of ground rose the one- 
 storied dwelling house, its length stretching into distant 
 perspective, as it consisted of a single row of living and 
 bedrooms. Almost every room had its own door that 
 opened into a veranda supported by colored wooden 
 columns, and which extended the whole length of the 
 garden side of the house. This building was joined at a 
 right angle by a row of store-rooms, in which the garden 
 produce in fruits and vegetables, the wine-jars, and the 
 possessions of the house in woven stuffs, skins, leather, 
 and other property were kept. 
 
 In a chamber of strong masonry lay safely locked up 
 the vast, riches accumulated by Paaker's father and by 
 himself ; in gold and silver rings, vessels and figures of 
 beasts. Nor was there lack of bars of copper and of pre- 
 cious stones, particularly of lapis-lazuli and malachite. 
 
 * The inheritance of Paaker is described from the beautiful pictures of 
 shouses and buildings in the tombs of Tel el Amarna (represented in 
 I^epsius' monuments of Egypt). To own a garden was considered par- 
 ticularly lucky. 
 
 r 
 
98' UARDa. 
 
 In the middle of the garden stood a handsomely deco* 
 
 rated kiosk, and a chapel with images of the gods ; in the 
 background stood the statues of Paaker's ancestors in the 
 form of Osiris wrapped in mummy-cloths.* The faces, 
 which were likenesses, alone distinguished these statues 
 from each other. 
 
 The left side of the store-yard was veiled in gloom, yet 
 the moonlight revealed numerous dark figures clothed only 
 with aprons, the slaves of the king's pioneer, who squatted 
 on the ground in groups of five or six, or lay near each 
 other on thin mats of palm-bast, their hard beds. 
 
 Not far from the gate, on the right side of the court, a 
 few lamps lighted up a group of dusky men, the officers 
 of Paaker's household, who wore short, shirt-shaped white 
 garments, and who sat on a carpet round a table hardly 
 two feet high. They were eating their evening meal, 
 consisting of a roasted antelope, and large flat cakes of 
 bread. Slaves waited on them and filled their earthen 
 beakers with yellow beer. The steward cut up the great 
 roast on the table, offered the intendant of the gardens a 
 piece of antelope-leg, and said : 
 
 ** My arms ache ; the mob of slaves get more and more 
 dirty and refractory." 
 
 ** I notice it in the palm-trees," said the gardener, ** you 
 
 *The justified dead became Osiris; that is to say, attained to the 
 fullest union (Henosis) with the divinity. The Osiris-myth has been re- 
 stored hi all its p^rts from the literary remains of the Egyptians. 
 Plutarch records it in detail. Omitting minor matters it is as follows : 
 Isis and Osiris reigned blissful and benignant in the Nile valley ; Typhon 
 (Seth) induced Osiris to lay himself in a chest, locked it with his seventy 
 companions, and set it on the Nile, which carried it north, to the sea. 
 It was cast on shore at Byblos. Isis sought it lamenting, found it, and 
 brought it back to Egypt. While she was seeking for her son Horus, 
 Typhon found the body, cut it into fourteen parts, and strewed them 
 throughout the land. Horus having meanwhile grown up, fights with 
 Typhon, and conquers him, and restores to his mother her husband, and 
 to his father — who during his apparent death had continued to reign in 
 the under-world — his earthly throne. This fanciful myth personified 
 not only the cycle of the vegetative life of the earth, but also the path of 
 the sun, and the fate of the human soul. The procreative power of 
 nature, and the overflow of the Nile come from drought, the light of the 
 sun from darkness; man passes through death to life, the principle of 
 good comes from evil. Truth appears to be destroyed by Lies ; yet 
 each triumphs in the spring (the time of the inundations) — in the morn- 
 ing — in the other world— or in the day of retribution — as Osiris conquered^ 
 through Horus» 
 
UARDA. 99 
 
 want so many cudgels that their crowns will soon be as 
 bare as a moulting bird, " 
 
 "We should do as the master does/* said the head- 
 groom, ** and get sticks of ebony — they last a hundred 
 years. " 
 
 ''At any rate longer than men's bones,'' laughed the 
 chief neat-herd, who had come into town from the pio- 
 neer's country estate, bringing with him animals for sacri- 
 fice, butter and cheese. "If we were all to follow the 
 master's example, we should soon have none but cripples 
 in the servants' house." 
 
 *' Out there lies the lad whose collar-bone he broke yes- 
 terday," said the steward, " it is a pity, for he was a clever 
 mat-plaiter. The old lord hit softer." 
 
 "You ought to know!" cried a small voice, that 
 sounded mockingly, behind the feasters. 
 
 They looked and laughed when they recognized the 
 strange guest, who had approached them unobserved. 
 
 The new-comer was a deformed little man about as big 
 as a five-year old boy, with a big head and oldish but un- 
 commonly sharply-cut features. 
 
 The noblest Egyptians kept house-dwarfs for sport, and 
 this little wight served the wife of Mena in this capacity. 
 He was called Nemu, or "the dwarf," and his sharp 
 tongue made him much feared, though he was a favorite, 
 for he passed for a very clever fellow and was a good tale- 
 teller. 
 
 "Make room for me, my lords," said the little man. 
 "I take very little room, and your beer and roast is in lit- 
 tle danger from me, for my maw is no bigger than a fly's 
 head. " 
 
 " But your gall is as big as that of a Nile-horse," cried 
 the cook. 
 
 " It grows," said the dwarf, laughing, ** when a turnspit 
 and spoon-wielder like you turns up. There — I will sit 
 here." 
 
 "You are welcome," said the steward, "what do you 
 bring?" 
 
 "Myself." 
 
 "Then you bring nothing great.*' 
 
 "Else I should not suit you either ! " retorted the dwarf. 
 *'Bi»t seriously, my lady mother, the noble Katuti, and 
 
100 UARDA. 
 
 the regent, who just now is visiting us, sent me here to 
 ask you whether Paaker is not yet returned. He accom- 
 panied the princess and Nefert to the City of the Dead, 
 and the ladies are not yet come in. We begin to be anx- 
 ious, for it is already late." 
 
 The steward looked up at the starry sky and said : ** The 
 moon is already tolerably high, and my lord meant to be 
 home before sundown." 
 
 * ' The meal was ready, " sighed the cook. ' * I shall have 
 to go to work again if he does not remain out all night." 
 
 ''How should he ? " asked the steward. ** He is with 
 the Princess Bent-Anat.*' 
 
 "And my mistress,'' added the dwarf, 
 
 "What will they say to each other," laughed the gar- 
 dener ; "your chief litter-bearer declared that yesterday 
 on the way to the City of the Dead they did not speak 9 
 word to each other." 
 
 "Can you blame the lord if he is angry with the lady 
 who was betrothed to him, and then was wed to another ? 
 When I think of the moment when he learned Nefert's 
 breach of faith I turn hot and cold. " 
 
 "Care the less for that," sneered the dwarf, "since 
 you must be hot in summer and cold in winter." 
 
 "It is not evening all day," cried the head groom. 
 "Paaker never forgets an injury, and we shall live to see 
 him pay Mena — high as he is — for the affront he has 
 offered him." 
 
 "My lady Katuti," interrupted Nemu, "stores up the 
 arrears of her son-in-law. " 
 
 "Besides, she has long wished to renew the old friend- 
 ship with your house, and the regent too preaches peace. 
 Give me a piece of bread, steward. I am hungry ! " 
 
 "The sacks, into which Mena's arrears flow, seem to be 
 empty," laughed the cook. 
 
 "Empty ! empty ! much like your wit ! " answered the 
 dwarf " Give me a bit of roast meat, steward ; and you 
 slaves bring me a drink of beer." 
 
 "You just now said your maw was no bigger than a 
 fly's head," cried the cook, "and now you devour meat 
 like the crocodiles in the sacred tank of Seeland. * You 
 
 ♦The Modern Fajum, where, in the temple of the God Sebek, sacred 
 crocodiles were kept and decorated, and expensively fed. 
 
UARDA. loi 
 
 must come from a world of upside-down, where fnc men 
 are as small as flies, and the flies as big as the giants of 
 the past/' 
 
 ** Yet, I might be much bigger/' mumbled the dwarf, 
 while he munched on unconcernedly, ** perhaps as big as 
 your spite which grudges me the third bit of meat, which 
 the steward — may Zefa * bless him with great possessions 
 — is cutting out of the back of the antelope/' 
 
 ** There, take it, you glutton, but let out your girdle," 
 said the steward laughing, ** I had cut the slice for myself, 
 and admire your sharp nose/' 
 
 "Ah, noses," said the dwarf, **they teach the knowing 
 better than any haruspex what is inside a man/' 
 
 " How is that ? " cried the gardener. 
 
 "Only try to display your wisdom," laughed the 
 steward ; "for, if you want to talk, you must at least leave 
 off eating/' 
 
 "The two may be combined," said the dwarf "Listen 
 then ! A hooked nose, which I compare to a vulture's 
 beak, is never found together with a submissive spirit. 
 Think of the Pharaoh and all his haughty race. The re- 
 gent, on the contrary, has a straight, well-shaped, medium- 
 sized nose, like the statue of Amon in the temple, and he 
 is an upright soul, and as good as the gods. He is 
 neither overbearing nor submissive beyond just what is 
 right ; he holds neither with the great nor yet with the 
 mean, but with men of our stamp. There's the king 
 for us ! " 
 
 "A king of noses ! " exclaimed the cook, "I prefer the 
 eagle Rameses. But what do you say to the nose of your 
 mistress Nefert ? " 
 
 "It is delicate and slender and moves with every 
 thought like the leaves of flowers in a breath of wind, and 
 her heart is exactly like it" 
 
 "And Paaker? " asked the head groom. 
 
 " He has a large short nose with wide open nostrils. 
 When Seth whirls up the sand, and a grain of it flies up 
 his nose, he waxes angry — so it is Paaker's nose, and that 
 only, which is answerable for all your blue bruises. His 
 mother Setchem, the sister of my lady Katuti, has a little 
 
 roundish soft " 
 
 * Zefa, the goddess of the inundation. 
 
102 v)ARDA. 
 
 '**Y(yu'|)i'^*y," -cried the steward, interrupting the 
 speaker, " we have fed you and let you abuse people to 
 your heart's content, but if you wag your sharp tongue 
 against our mistress, I will take you by the girdle and 
 fling you to the sky, so that the stars may remain sticking 
 to your crooked hump." 
 
 At these words the dwarf rose, turned to go, and said 
 indifferently: *'l would pick the stars carefully off my 
 back and send you the finest of the planets in return for 
 your juicy bit of roast. But here come the chariots. Fare- 
 well ! my lords, when the vulture's beak seizes one of 
 you and carries you off to the war in Syria, remember the 
 words of the little Nemu who knows men and hoses." 
 
 The pioneer's chariot rattled through the high gates 
 into the court of his house, the dogs in their leashes 
 how^led joyfully, the head groom hastened toward Paaker 
 and took the reins in his charge, the steward accompanied 
 him, and the head cook retired into the kitchen to make 
 ready a fresh meal for his master. 
 
 Before Paaker had reached the garden gate, from the 
 pylon of the enormous temple of Amon was heard first 
 the far-sounding clang of hard-struck plates of brass, and 
 then the many-voiced chant of a solemn hymn. 
 
 The Mohar stood still, looked up to heaven, called to 
 his servants — *'The divine star Sothis is risen!" threw 
 himself on the earth, and lifted his arms toward the star 
 in prayer. 
 
 The slaves and officers immediately followed his ex- 
 ample. 
 
 No circumstance in nature remained unobserved by the 
 priestly guides of the Egyptian people. Every phenom- 
 enon on earth or in the starry heavens was greeted by 
 them as the manifestation of a divinity, and they sur- 
 rounded the life of the inhabitants of the Nile valley — 
 from morning to evening — from the beginning of the in- 
 undation to the days of drought — with a web of chants 
 and sacrifices, of processions and festivals, which insepa- 
 rably knit the human individual to the Divinity and its 
 earthly representatives the priesthood. 
 
 For many minutes the lord and his servants remained 
 on their knees in silence, their eyes fixed on the sacred 
 star, and listening to the pious chant of the priests. 
 
 I 
 
UARDA. 103 
 
 As it died away Paaker rose. All around him still lay 
 on the earth ; only one naked figure, strongly lighted by 
 the clear moonlight, stood motionless by a pillar near the 
 slaves' quarters. 
 
 The pioneer gave a sign, the attendants rose ; but Paaker 
 went with hasty steps to the man who had disdained the 
 act of devotion, which he had so. earnestly performed, and 
 cried : 
 
 * * Steward, a hundred strokes on the soles of the feet of 
 this scoffer." 
 
 The officer thus addressed bowed and said : " My lord, 
 the surgeon commanded the mat-weaver not to move, and 
 he cannot lift his arm. He is suffering great pain. Thou 
 didst break his collar-bone yesterday." 
 
 " It served him right ! " said Paaker, raising his voice so 
 much that the injured man could not fail to hear it. Then 
 he turned his back upon him, and entered the garden ; here 
 he called the chief butler and said : ** Give the slaves beer 
 for their night draught — to all of them, and plenty." 
 
 A few minutes later he stood before his mother, whom 
 he found on the roof of the house, which was decorated 
 with leafy plants, just as she gave her two-years'-old 
 granddaughter, the child of her youngest son, into the 
 arms of her nurse, that she might take her to bed. 
 
 Paaker greeted the worthy matron with reverence. 
 
 She was a woman of a friendly, homely aspect ; several 
 little dogs were fawning on her feet. Her son put aside 
 the leaping favorites of the widow, whom they amused 
 through many long hours of loneliness, and turned to 
 take the child in his arms from those of the attendant. 
 But the little one struggled with such loud cries, and 
 could not be pacified, that Paaker set it down on the 
 ground and involuntarily exclaimed : 
 
 " The naughty little thing ! " 
 
 "She has been sweet and good the whole afternoon," 
 said his mother Setchem. "She sees you so seldom." 
 
 "May be," replied Paaker; ''still I know this — the 
 dogs love me, but no child will come to me." 
 
 "You have such hard hands." 
 
 "Take the squalling brat away," said Paaker to the 
 nurse. " Mother, I want to speak to you." 
 
 Setchem quieted the child, gave it many kisses, and sent 
 
I04 UARDA. 
 
 it to bed ; then she went up to her son, stroked his cheeks, 
 and said : 
 
 "If the little one were your own, she would go to you 
 at once, and teach you that a child is the greatest blessing 
 which the gods bestow on us mortals. " 
 
 Paaker smiled and said : ''I know what you are aiming 
 at — but leave it for the present, for I have something im- 
 portant to communicate to you." 
 
 **Well? " asked Setchem. 
 
 "To-day for the first time since — you know when, I 
 have spoken to Nefert. The past may be forgotten. You 
 long for your sister ; go to her, I have nothing more to 
 say against it." 
 
 Setchem looked at her son with undisguised astonish- 
 ment ; her eyes, which easily filled with tears, now over- 
 flowed, and she hesitatingly asked: ''Can I believe my 
 ears ; child, have you " 
 
 **I have a wish," said Paaker firmly, ''that you should 
 knit once more the old ties of affection with your relations ; 
 the estrangement has lasted long enough." 
 
 ** Much too long ! " cried Setchem. 
 
 The pioneer looked in silence at the ground, and obeyed 
 his mother's signs to sit down beside her. 
 
 "I knew," she said, taking his hand, "that this day 
 would bring us joy ; for I dreamed of your father in Osiris, 
 and when I was being carried to the temple, I was met, 
 first by a white cow, and then by a wedding procession. 
 The white ram of Amon, too, touched the wheat cakes 
 that I offered him. " * 
 
 "Those are lucky presages," said Paaker, in a tone of 
 conviction. 
 
 "And let us hasten to seize with gratitude that which 
 the gods set before us, "cried Setchem, with joyful emotion. 
 "I will go to-morrow to my sister and tell her that we 
 shall live together in our old affection, and share both 
 good and evil ; we are both of the same race, and I know 
 that, as order and cleanliness preserve a house from ruin 
 and rejoice the stranger, so nothing but unity can keep up 
 the happiness of a family and its appearance before people. 
 What is bygone is bygone, and let it be forgotten. There 
 
 * It boded death to Germanicus when the Apis refused to eat out of 
 his hand. 
 
UARDA. t05 
 
 are many women in Thebes beside Nefert, and a hundred 
 nobles in the land would esteem themselves happy to win 
 you for a son-in-law. " 
 
 Paaker rose, and began thoughtfully pacing the broad 
 space, while Setchem went on speaking. 
 
 " I know," she said, *' that I have touched a wound in 
 thy heart ; but it is already closing, and it will heal when 
 you are happier even than the charioteer Mena, and need 
 no longer hate him. Nefert is good, but she is delicate 
 and not clever, and scarcely equal to the management of 
 so large a household as ours. Ere long I too shall be 
 wrapped in mummy-cloths, and then if duty calls you into 
 Syria some prudent housewife must take my place. It is 
 no small matter. Your grandfather Assa often would say 
 that a house well-conducted in every detail was the mark 
 of a family owning an unspotted name, and living with 
 wise liberality and secure solidity, in which each had his 
 assigned place, his allotted duty to fulfill, and his fixed 
 rights to demand. How often have I prayed to the 
 Hathors that they may send you a wife after my own 
 heart." 
 
 " A Setchem I shall never find !" said Paaker, kissing 
 his mother's forehead ; * ' women of your sort are dying 
 out." 
 
 " Flatterer ! " laughed Setchem, shaking her finger at her 
 son. " But it is true. Those who are now growing up 
 dress and smarten themselves with stuffs from Kaft,* 
 mix their language with Syrian words, and leave the 
 steward and housekeeper free when they themselves ought 
 to command. Even my sister Katuti, and Nefert " 
 
 ''Nefert is different from other women," interrupted 
 Paaker, "and if you had brought her up she would 
 know how to manage a house as well as how to ornament 
 it." 
 
 Setchem looked at her son in surprise ; then she said, 
 half to herself: "Yes, yes, she is a sweet child; it is 
 impossible for any one to be angry with her who looks 
 into her eyes. And yet I was cruel to her because you 
 were hurt by her, and because — but you know. But now 
 vou have forgiven, I forgive her, willingly ; her and h^r 
 husband." 
 
lo6 UARDA. 
 
 Paaker's brow clouded, and while he paused in front of 
 his mother he said with all the peculiar harshness of his 
 voice : 
 
 ''He shall pine away in the desert, and the hyenas of the 
 north shall tear his unburied corpse. " 
 
 At these words Setchem covered her face with her veil, 
 and clasped her hands tightly over the amulets hanging 
 round her neck. Then she said softly : 
 
 *' How terrible you can be ! I know well that you hate 
 the charioteer, for I have seen the seven arrows over your 
 couch over which is written 'Death to Mena.' That 
 is a Syrian charm which a man turns against any one 
 whom he desires to destroy. How black you look ! Yes, 
 it is a charm that is hateful to the gods, and that gives 
 the Evil one power over him that uses it. Leave it to 
 them to punish the criminal, for Osiris withdraws his 
 favor from those who choose the fiend for their ally." 
 
 ** My sacrifices," replied Paaker, ''secure me the favor 
 of the gods ; but Mena behaved to me like a vile robber, 
 and I only return to him the evil that belongs to him. 
 Enough of this ! and if you love me never again utter the 
 name of my enemy before me. I have forgiven Nefert 
 and her mother — that may satisfy you." 
 
 Setchem shook her head, and said : "What will it lead 
 to! The war cannot last forever, andif Mena returns the 
 reconciliation of to-day will turn to all the more bitter 
 enmity. I see only one remedy. Follow my advice, and 
 let me find you a wife worthy of you." 
 
 "Not now!" exclaimed Paaker, impatiently. "In a 
 few days I must go again into the enemy's country, and 
 do not wish to leave my wife, like Mena, to lead the life 
 of a widow during my existence. Why urge it? my 
 brother's wife and children are with you — that might 
 satisfy you." 
 
 "The gods know how I love them," answered Setchem ; 
 " but your brother Horus is the younger, and you the 
 elder, to whom the inheritance belongs. Your little niece 
 is a delightful plaything, but in your son I should see at 
 once the future stay of our race, the future head of the 
 family ; brought up to my mind and your father's ; for 
 all is sacred to me that my dead husband wished. He 
 rejoiced in your early betrothal to Nefert, and hoped 
 
UARDA. 107 
 
 that a son of his eldest son should continue the race of 
 Assa." 
 
 ''It shall be by no fault of mine that any wish of his 
 remains unfulfilled. The stars are high, mother ; sleep 
 well, and if to-morrow you visit Nefert and your sister, 
 say to them that the doors of my house are open to them. 
 But stay ! Katuti's steward has offered to sell a herd of 
 cattle to ours, although the stock on Mena's land can be 
 but small. What does that mean .? " 
 
 "You know my sister," replied Setchem. "She man- 
 ages Mena's possessions, has many requirements, tries to 
 vie with the greatest in splendor, sees the governor often in 
 her house, her son is no doubt extravagant — and so the 
 most necessary things may often be wanting." 
 
 Paaker shrugged his shoulders, once more embraced his 
 mother and left her. 
 
 Soon after, he was standing in the spacious room in 
 which he was accustomed to sit and to sleep when he was 
 in Thebes. The walls of this room were whitewashed 
 and decorated with pious sentences in hieroglyphic writ- 
 ing, which framed in the door and the window opening 
 into the garden. 
 
 In the middle of the further wall was a couch in the 
 form of a lion. The upper end of it imitated a lion's 
 head, and the foot, its curling tail ; a finely dressed lion's 
 skin was spread over the bed, and a head-rest of ebony, 
 decorated with pious texts, stood on a high footstep, 
 ready for the sleeper. 
 
 Above the bed various costly weapons and whips were 
 elegantly displayed, and below them the seven arrows 
 over which Setchem had read the words * ' Death to 
 Mena." They were written across a sentence which en- 
 joined feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, 
 and clothing the naked ; with loving kindness alike to the 
 great and the humble. 
 
 A niche by the side of the bed-head was closed with a 
 curtain of purple stuff. 
 
 In each corner of the room stood a statue ; three of 
 them symbolized the triad of Thebes — Amon, Muth, and 
 Chunsu, and the fourth the dead father of the pioneer. 
 In front of each was a small altar for offerings, with a 
 hollow in it, in which was an odoriferous essence. On a 
 
io8 UARDA. 
 
 wooden stand were little images of the gods and amulets 
 in great number, and in several painted chests lay the 
 clothes, the ornaments and the papers of the master. In 
 the midst of the chamber stood a table and several stool- 
 shaped seats. 
 
 When Paaker entered the room he found it lighted with 
 lamps, and a large dog sprang joyfully to meet him. He 
 let him spring upon him, threw him to the ground, let 
 him once more rush upon him, and then kissed his clever 
 head. 
 
 Before his bed an old negro of powerful build lay in 
 deep sleep. Paaker shoved him with his foot and called 
 to him as he awoke : 
 
 "I am hungry." 
 
 The gray-headed black man rose slowly and left the 
 room. 
 
 As soon as he was alone Paaker drew the philter from 
 his girdle, looked at it tenderly, and put it in a box, in 
 which there were several flasks of holy oils for sacrifice. 
 
 He was accustomed every evening to fill the hollows in 
 the altars with fresh essences, and to prostrate himself in 
 prayer before the images of the gods. 
 
 To-day he stood before the statue of his father, kissed 
 its feet, and murmured : **Thy will shall be done. The 
 woman whom thou didst intend for me shall indeed be 
 mine — thy eldest son's. " 
 
 Then he walked to and fro and thought over the events 
 of the day. 
 
 At last he stood still, with his arms crossed, and looked 
 defiantly at the holy images ; like a traveler who drives 
 away a false guide, and thinks to find the road by him- 
 self. 
 
 His eye fell on the arrows over his bed ; he smiled, and, 
 striking his broad breast with his fist, he exclaimed, '* I — 
 I— I " 
 
 His hound, who thought his master meant to call him, 
 rushed up to him. He pushed him off and said : 
 
 '* If you meet a hyena in the desert, you fall upon it 
 without waiting till it is touched by my lance — and if the 
 gods, my masters, delay, I myself will defend my right ; 
 but thou," he continued, turning to the image of his 
 father, "thou wilt support me," 
 
UARDA. 109 
 
 This soliloquy was interrupted by the slaves who 
 brought in his meal. 
 
 Paaker glanced at the various dishes which the cook 
 had prepared for him, and asked: ''How often shall I 
 command that not a variety, but only one large dish shall 
 be dressed for me ? And the wine ? " 
 
 "Thou art used never to touch it," answered the old 
 negro. 
 
 ''But to-day I wish for some," said the pioneer. 
 *' Bring one of the old jars of red wine of Kakem." * 
 
 The slaves looked at each other in astonishment ; the 
 wine was brought, and Paaker emptied beaker after beaker. 
 When the servants had left him, the boldest among them 
 said : " Usually the master eats like a lion, and drinks like 
 a midge, but to-day " 
 
 *'Hold your tongue!" cried his companion, *'come 
 into the court, for Paaker has sent us out beer. The 
 Hathors must have met him." 
 
 The occurrences of the day must indeed have taken deep 
 hold on the inmost soul of the pioneer ; for he, the most 
 sober of all the warriors of Rameses, to whom intoxication 
 was unknown, and who avoided the banquets of his asso- 
 ciates — now sat at the midnight hours, alone at his table, 
 and toped till his weary head grew heavy. 
 
 He collected himself, went toward his couch and drew 
 the curtain which concealed the niche at the head of the 
 bed. A female figure, with the head-dress and attributes 
 of the Goddess Hathor, made of painted limestone, re- 
 vealed itself. 
 
 Her countenance had the features of the wife of 
 Mena. 
 
 The king, four years since, had ordered a sculptor to 
 execute a sacred image with the lovely features of the 
 newly-married bride ofhis charioteer, and Paaker had 
 succeeded in having a duplicate made. 
 
 He now knelt down on the couch, gazed on the image 
 with moist eyes, looked cautiously around to see if he 
 was alone, leaned forward, pressed a kiss to the delicate, 
 cold stone lips ; laid down and went to sleep without 
 
 * A place not far from the Pyramid of Saqqarah in the Necropolis of 
 Memphis, where, even in remote times, there must have been a wine 
 press, as the red wine of Kakem (Kochome ?) is often mentioned. 
 
110 UARDA. 
 
 undressing himself, and leaving- the lamps to burn them- 
 selves out. 
 
 Restless dreams disturbed his spirit, and when the dawn 
 grew gray, he screamed out, tormented by a hideous 
 vision, so pitifully, that the old negro, who had laid him- 
 self near the dog at the foot of his bed, sprang up alarmed, 
 and while the dog howled, called him by his name to wake 
 him. 
 
 Paaker awoke with a dull headache. The vision which 
 had tormented him, stood vividly before his mind, and he 
 endeavored to retain it that he might summon a haruspex 
 to interpret it. After the morbid fancies of the preceding 
 evening he felt sad and depressed. 
 
 The morning-hymn rang into his room with a warning 
 voice from the temple of Amon ; he cast off evil thoughts, 
 and resolved once more to resign the conduct of his fate to 
 the gods, and to renounce all the arts of magic. 
 
 As he was accustomed, he got into the bath that was 
 ready for him. While splashing in the tepid water he 
 thought with ever increasing eagerness of Nefert and of 
 the philter which at first he had meant not to offer to her, 
 but which actually was given to her by his hand, and 
 which might by this time have begun to exercise its 
 charm. 
 
 Love placed rosy pictures — hatred set blood-red images 
 before his eyes. He strove to free himself from the temp- 
 tations, which more and more tightly closed in upon him, 
 but it was with him as with a man who has fallen into a 
 bog, who, the more vehemently he tries to escape from the 
 mire, sinks the deeper. 
 
 As the sun rose, so rose his vital energy and his self- 
 confidence, and when he prepared to quit his- dwelling, in 
 his most costly clothing, he had arrived once more at the 
 decision of the night before, and had again resolved to 
 fight for his purpose, without — and if need were — against 
 the gods. 
 
 The Mohar had chosen his road, and he never turned 
 back when once he had begun a journey. 
 
UARDA. Ill 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 / 
 
 It was noon ; the rays of the sun found no way into 
 the narrow shady streets of the city of Thebes, but they 
 blazed with scorching heat on the broad dyke-road which 
 led to the king's castle, and which at this hour was usually 
 almost deserted. 
 
 To-day it was thronged with foot-passengers and 
 chariots, with riders and litter-bearers. 
 
 Here and there negroes poured water on the road out 
 of skins, but the dust was so deep that, in spite of this, it 
 shrouded the streets and the passengers in a dry cloud, 
 which extended not only over the city, but down to the 
 harbor where the boats of the inhabitants of the Necropo- 
 lis landed their freight. 
 
 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. 
 
 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 
 centered 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 
 
 * The Egyptians were great letter-writers, and many of their letters 
 have come aown to us; they also had established postmen, and had a 
 word for them in their language "fai schat." Maspero has treated the 
 matter extremely well in his paper " du genre-epistolaire chez les anciens 
 Egyptiens de I'epoque Pharaonique." 
 
112 UARDA. 
 
 oftener the heralds of tears than of joy ; though the writ- 
 ten rolls which they brought told more often of death and 
 wounds than of promotion, royal favors, and conquered 
 spoils, 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 communica- 
 tion, and the lists of those who had fallen or perished — 
 were closely besieged with inquirers. 
 
 Man has nothing harder to endure than uncertainty, and 
 generally, when in suspense, looks forward to bad rather 
 than to good news. And the bearers of ill ride faster than 
 the messengers of weal. 
 
 The Regent Ani resided in a building adjoining the 
 king's palace. His business-quarters surrounded an im- 
 mensely wide court, and consisted of a great number of 
 rooms opening into this court, in which numerous scribes 
 worked with their chief On the farther side was a large, 
 veranda-like hall open at the front, but with a roof sup- 
 ported by pillars. 
 
 Here Ani was accustomed to hold courts of justice, and 
 to receive officers, messengers, and petitioners. 
 
 To-day he sat, visible to all comers, on a costly throne 
 in this hall, surrounded by his numerous followers, and 
 overlooking the crowd of people whom the guardians of 
 the peace* guided with long staves, admitting them in 
 troops into the court of the *' High Gate," and then again 
 conducting them out. 
 
 What he saw and heard was nothing joyful, for from 
 each group surrounding a scribe arose a cry of woe. Few 
 and far between were those who had to tell of the rich 
 booty that had fallen to their friends. 
 
 An invisible web woven of wailing and tears seemed to 
 envelop the assembly. 
 
 Here men were lamenting and casting dust upon their 
 heads, there women were rending their clothes, shrieking 
 loudly and crying as they waved their veils : "Oh, my 
 husband ! oh, my father ! oh, my brother ! " 
 
 Parents who had received the news of the death of their 
 son fell on each other's necks weeping ; old men plucked 
 out their gray hair and beard ; young women beat their 
 * Presumably a kind of police. — Translator* 
 
 I 
 
. UARDA. 113 
 
 foreheads and breasts, or implored the scribes who read 
 out the lists to let them see for themselves the name of 
 the beloved one who was forever torn from them. 
 
 The passionate stirring of a soul, whether it be the 
 result of joy or of sorrow, among us moderns covers its 
 features with a veil, which it had no need of among the 
 ancients. 
 
 Where the loudest laments sounded a restless little being 
 might be seen hurrying from group to group ; it was 
 Nemu, Katuti's dwarf, whom we know. 
 
 Now he stood near a woman of the better class, dis- 
 solved in tears because her husband had fallen in the last 
 battle. 
 
 * ' Can you read ? " he asked her ; "up there on the 
 architrave is the name of Rameses, with all his titles. 
 * Dispenser of life,' he is called. Ay, indeed, he can create 
 — widows ; for he has all the husbands killed." 
 
 Before the astonished woman could reply, he stood by a 
 man sunk in woe, and pulling his robe, said: "Finer 
 fellows than your son have never been seen in Thebes. 
 Let your youngest starve, or beat him to a cripple, else he 
 also will be dragged off to Syria ; for Rameses needs much 
 good Egyptian meat for the Syrian vultures." 
 
 The old man, who had hitherto stood there in silent 
 despair, clenched his fist. The dwarf pointed to the 
 regent, and said : **If he there wielded the scepter, there 
 would be fewer orphans and beggars by the Nile. To-day 
 its sacred waters are still sweet, but soon it will taste as 
 salt as the north sea with all the tears that have been shed 
 on its banks." 
 
 It almost seemed as if the regent had heard these words, 
 for he rose from his seat and lifted his hands like a man 
 who is lamenting. 
 
 Many of theby-standers observed this action ; and loud 
 cries of anguish filled the wide courtyard, which was soon 
 cleared by soldiers to make room for other troops of peo- 
 ple who were thronging in. 
 
 While these gathered round the scribes, the Regent Ani 
 sat with quiet dignity on the throne, surrounded by his 
 suite and his secretaries, and held audiences. 
 
 He was a man at the close of his fortieth year and the 
 ffcirorite cousin of the kingr. 
 
114 UARDA. . 
 
 Rameses I. the grandfather of the reigning mor.arch, 
 had deposed the legitimate royal family, and usurped the 
 scepter of the Pharaohs. He descended from a Semitic 
 race who had remained in Egypt at the time of the expul- 
 sion of the Hyksos,* and had distinguished itself by war- 
 like talents under Thotmes and Amenophis. After his 
 death he was succeeded by his son Seti, who sought to 
 earn a legitimate claim to the throne by marrying Tuaa, 
 the granddaughter of Amenophis III. She presented 
 him with an only son, whom he named after his father 
 Rameses. This prince might lay claim to perfect legit- 
 imacy through his mother, who descended directly from 
 the old house of sovereigns; for in Egypt a noble fam- 
 ily — even that of the Pharaohs — might be perpetuated 
 through women. 
 
 Seti proclaimed Rameses f partner to his throne, so as 
 to remove all doubt as to the validity of his position. The 
 young nephew of his wife Tuaa, the Regent Ani, who was 
 a few years younger than Rameses, he caused to be 
 brought up in the house of Seti and treated like his own 
 son, while the other members of the dethroned royal 
 family were robbed of their possessions or removed alto- 
 gether. 
 
 Ani proved himself a faithful servant to Seti and to his 
 son, and was trusted as a brother by the warlike and mag- 
 nanimous Rameses, who, however, never disguised from 
 himself the fact that the blood in his own veins was less 
 purely royal than that which flowed in his cousin's. 
 
 It was required of the race of the Pharaohs of Egypt 
 that it should be descended from the Sun-god Ra, and the 
 Pharaoh could boast of this high descent only through his 
 mother — Ani through both parents. 
 
 But Rameses sat on the throne, held the scepter with a 
 
 * These were an eastern race who migrated from Asia into Egypt, con- 
 ouered the lower Nile valley, and ruled over it for nearly 500 years, till 
 tney were driven out by the successors of the old legitimate Pharaohs, 
 whose dominion had been confined to upper Egypt. 
 
 t Apparently even at his birth. According to an inscription at Abydos, 
 published by Mariette, and first interpreted by Maspero, Rameses boasts 
 of having been " King even in the egg." He is the Sesostris of the 
 Greeks. His surname Sesesu-Ra is preserved on the monuments. 
 When the Greeks speak of the great deeds of Sesostris, they include 
 ^ose of Seti and Rameses. 
 
UARDA. 115 
 
 strong hand, and thirteen young sons promised to his 
 house the lordship over Egypt to all eternity. 
 
 When, after the death of his warlike father, he went to 
 fresh conquests in the north, he appointed Ani, who had 
 proved himself worthy, as governor of the province of 
 Kusch,* to the regency of the kingdom. 
 
 A vehement character often overestimates the man who 
 is endowed with a quieter temperament, into whose nature 
 he cannot throw himself, and whose excellences he is un- 
 able to imitate ; so it happened that the deliberate and 
 passionless nature of his cousin impressed the fiery and 
 warlike Rameses. 
 
 Ani appeared to be devoid of ambition, or the spirit of 
 enterprise ; he accepted the dignity that was laid upon him 
 with apparent reluctance, and seemed a particularly safe 
 person, because he had lost both wife and child, and could 
 boast of no heir. 
 
 He was a man of more than middle height ; his features 
 were remarkably regular — even beautifully-cut, but smooth 
 and with little expression. His clear blue eyes and thin 
 lips gave no evidence of the emotions that filled his heart ; 
 on the contrary, his countenance wore a soft smile that 
 could adapt itself to haughtiness, to humility, and to a 
 variety of shades of feeling, but which could never be en- 
 tirely banished from his face. 
 
 He had listened with affable condescension to the com- 
 plaint of a landed proprietor, whose cattle had been driven 
 off for the king's army, and had promised that his case 
 should be inquired into. The plundered man was leaving 
 full of hope ; but when the scribe who sat at the feet of the 
 regent inquired to whom the investigation of this en- 
 croachment of the troops should be intrusted, Ani said : 
 *' Each one must bring a victim to the war ; it must remain 
 among the things that are done, and cannot be undone." 
 
 The Nomarcht of Suan, in the southern part of the 
 country, asked for funds for a necessary new embank- 
 ment. The regent listened to his eager representation 
 with benevolence, nay with expressions of sympathy ; but 
 assured him that the war absorbed all the funds of the 
 state, that the chests were empty ; still he felt inclined— 
 
 * Ethiopia. t Chief of a Nome or district. 
 
Il6 UARDA. 
 
 even if they had not failed — to sacrifice a part of his own 
 income to preserve the endang-ered arable land of his faith- 
 ful province of Suan, to which he desired greeting. 
 
 As soon as the Nomarch had left him, he commanded 
 that a considerable sum should be taken out of the treas- 
 ury, and sent after the petitioner. 
 
 From time to time in the middle of conversation, he 
 arose, and made a gesture of lamentation, to show to the 
 assembled mourners in the court that he sympathized in 
 the losses which had fallen on them. 
 
 The sun had already passed the meridian when a dis- 
 turbance, accompanied by loud cries, took possession of 
 the masses of people, who stood round the scribes in the 
 palace court. 
 
 Many men and women were streaming together toward 
 one spot, and even the most impassive of the Thebarvs 
 present turned their attention to an incident so unusual in 
 this place. 
 
 A detachment of constabulary made a way through the 
 crushing and yelling mob, and another division of Lybian 
 police led a prisoner toward a side gate of the court. 
 Before they could reach it, a messenger came up with 
 them, from the regent, who desired to be informed as fo 
 what had happened. 
 
 The head of the officers of public safety followed him, 
 and with eager excitement informed Ani, who was wait- 
 ing for him, that a tiny man, the dwarf of the Lady Ka- 
 tuti, had for several hours been going about in the court 
 and endeavoring to poison the minds of the citizens with 
 seditious speeches. 
 
 Ani ordered that the misguided man should be thrown 
 into the dungeon ; but so soon as the chief officer had left 
 him, he commanded his secretary to have the dwarf 
 brought into his presence before sundown. 
 
 While he was giving this order an excitement of another 
 kind seized the assembled multitude. 
 
 As the sea parted and stood on the right hand and on 
 the left of the Hebrews, so that no wave wetted the foot 
 of the pursued fugitives, so the crowd of people of their 
 own free will, but as if in reverent submission to some 
 high command, parted and formed a broad way, through 
 which walked the high-priest of the House of Seti, as, full 
 
UARDA. 
 
 117 
 
 robed and accompanied by some of the * holy fathers," 
 he now entered the court. 
 
 The regent went to meet him, bowed before him, and 
 then withdrew to the back of the hall with him alone. 
 
 **It is nevertheless incredible," said Ameni, *'that our 
 serfs are to follow the militia ! " 
 
 ** Rameses requires soldiers — to conquer," replied the 
 regent. 
 
 **And we bread — to live," exclaimed the priest. 
 
 *' Nevertheless I am commanded at once, before the 
 seed-time, to levy the temple serfs. I regret the order, 
 but the king is the will, and I am only the hand." 
 
 ''The hand, which he makes use of to sequester an- 
 cient rights, and to open a way to the desert over the 
 fruitful land." 
 
 "Your acres will not long remain unprovided for. 
 Rameses will win new victories with the increased army, 
 and the help of the gods." 
 
 "The gods ! whom he insults ! " 
 
 "After the conclusion of peace he will reconcile the 
 gods by doubly rich gifts. He hopes confidently for an 
 early end to the war, and writes to me that after the next 
 battle he wins he intends to offer terms to the Cheta. A. 
 plan of the king's is also spoken of— to marry again, and, 
 indeed, the daughter of the Cheta King Chetasar." 
 
 Up to this moment the regent had kept his eyes cast 
 down. Now he raised them, smiling, as if he would fain 
 enjoy Ameni's satisfaction, and asked : 
 
 "What dost thou say to this project.? " 
 
 "I say," returned Ameni, and his voice, usually so 
 stern, took a tone of amusement, "I say that Rameses 
 seems to think that the blood of thy cousin and of his 
 mother, which gives him his right to the throne, is in- 
 capable of pollution." 
 
 " It is the blood of the Sun-god ! " 
 
 "Which runs but half pure in his veins, but wholly 
 pure in thine." 
 
 The regent made a deprecatory gesture, and said softly, 
 with a smile which resembled that of a dead man : 
 
 " We are not alone." 
 
 "No one is here," said Ameni, " who can hear us ; and 
 what I say is known to every child." 
 
li8 UARDA. 
 
 **But if it came to the king's ears," whispered Ani, 
 -he " 
 
 ** He would perceive how unwise it is to derogate from 
 the ancient rights of those on whom it is incumbent to 
 prove the purity of blood of the sovereign of this land. 
 However, Rameses sits on the throne ; may life bloom 
 for him, with health and strength I " * 
 
 The regent bowed, and then asked : 
 
 **Do you propose to obey the demand of the Pharaoh 
 without delay ? '* 
 
 **He is the king. Our council, which v/ill meet in a 
 few days, can only determine hoWy and not whether, we 
 shall fulfill his command." 
 
 *' You will retard the departure of the serfs, and Rameses 
 requires them at once. The bloody labor of the war 
 demands new tools." 
 
 "And the peace will perhaps demand a new master, 
 who understands how to employ the sons of the land to its 
 greatest advantage — a genuine son of Ra." 
 
 The regent stood opposite the high-priest, motionless as 
 an image cast in bronze, and remained silent ; but Ameni 
 lowered his staff before him as before a god, and then went 
 into the fore part of the hall. 
 
 When Ani followed him a soft smile played as usual 
 upon his countenance, and full of dignity he took his seat 
 on the throne. 
 
 ** Art thou at an end of thy communications ? " he asked 
 the high-priest. 
 
 ** It remains for me to inform you all," replied Ameni, 
 with a louder voice, to be heard by all the assembled 
 dignitaries, '' that the Princess Bent-Anat yesterday morn- 
 ing committed a heavy sin, and that in all the temples in 
 the land the gods shall be entreated with offerings to take 
 her un cleanness from her." 
 
 Again a shadow passed over the smile on the regent's 
 countenance. He looked meditatively on the ground, 
 and then said : 
 
 * ' To-morrow I will visit the House of Seti ; till then I 
 beg that this affair may be left to rest*' 
 
 * A fonnula which even in private letters constantly follows the name 
 of the Pharaoh, 
 
UARDA. 
 
 119 
 
 Ameni bowed, and the regent left the hall to withdraw 
 to a wing of the king's palace, in which he dwelt. 
 
 On his writing-table lay sealed papers. He knew that 
 they contained important news for him ; but he loved to 
 do violence to his curiosity, to test his resolution, and like 
 an epicure to reserve the best dish till the last. 
 
 He now glanced first at some unimportant letters. 
 
 A dumb negro, who squatted at his feet, burned the 
 papyrus-rolls which his master gave him in a brazier. A 
 secretary made notes of the short facts which Ani called 
 out to him, and the ground work was laid of the answers 
 to the different letters. 
 
 At a sign from his master this functionary quitted the 
 room, and Ani then slowly opened a letter from the king, 
 whose address: **To my brother Ani," showed that it 
 contained, not public, but private information. 
 
 On these lines, as he well knew, hung his future life, 
 and the road it should follow. 
 
 With a smile, that was meant to conceal even from him- 
 self his deep inward agitation, he broke the wax which 
 sealed the short manuscript in the royal hand. 
 
 "What relates to Egypt, and my concern for my 
 country, and the happy issue of the war," wrote the 
 Pharaoh, *'I have written to you by the hand of my 
 secretary ; but these words are for the brother, who desires 
 to be my son, and I write to him myself. The lordly 
 essence of the Divinity which dwells in me, readily brings 
 a quick 'Yes' or 'No' to my lips, and it decides for the 
 best. Now you demand my daughter Bent- An at to wife, 
 and I should not be Rameses if I did not freely confess 
 that before I had read the last words of your letter, a vehe- 
 ment ' No ' rushed to my lips. I caused the stars to be 
 consulted, and the entrails of the victims to be examined, 
 and they were adverse to your request ; and yet I could not 
 refuse you, for you are dear to me, and your blood is royal 
 as my own. Even more royal, an old friend said, and 
 warned me against your ambition and your exaltation. 
 Then my heart changed, for I were not Seti's son if I 
 allow myself to injure a friend through idle apprehensions; 
 and he who stands so high that men fear that he may try 
 to rise above Rameses, seems to me to be worthy of Bent- 
 Anat. Woo her, and, should she consent freely, the mar- 
 
120 UARDA. 
 
 iage may be celebrated on the day when I return home. 
 You are young enough to make a wife happy, and your 
 mature wisdom will guard my child from misfortune. Bent- 
 Anat shall know that her father, and king, encourages, 
 your suit ; but pray too to the Hathors that .they may 
 influence Bent-Anat's heart in your favor, for to her decis- 
 ion we must both submit." 
 
 The regent had changed color several time while read- 
 ing this letter. Now he laid it on the table with a shrug 
 of his shoulders, stood up, clasped his hands behhid him, 
 and, with his eyes cast meditatively on the floor, leaned 
 against one of the pillars which supported the beams of 
 the roof. 
 
 The longer he thought, the less amiable his expression 
 became. " A pill sweetened with honey,* such as they 
 give to women," he muttered to himself. Then he went 
 back to the table, read the king's letter through once more, 
 and said : " One may learn from it how to deny by grant- 
 ing, and at the same time not to forget to give it a brilliant 
 show of magnanimity. Rameses knows his daughter. 
 She is a girl like any other, and will take good care not to 
 choose a man twice as old as herself, and who might be 
 her father. Rameses will 'submit' — I am to 'submit!' 
 And to what .? to the judgment and the choice of a willful 
 child ! " 
 
 With these words he threw the letter so vehemently on 
 to the table that is slipped off on to the floor. 
 
 The mute slave picked it up, and laid it carefully on the 
 table again, while his master threw a ball into a silver 
 basin. 
 
 Several attendants rushed into the room, and Ani 
 ordered them to bring to him the captive dwarf of the Lady 
 Katuti. His soul rose in indignation against the king, 
 who in his remote camp-tent could fancy he had made 
 him happy by a proof of his highest favor. 
 
 When we are plotting against a man we are inclined to 
 regard him as an enemy, and if he offers us a rose we be- 
 lieve it to be for the sake, not of the perfume, but of the 
 thorns. 
 
 • Two recipes for pills are found in the papyri, one with honey for 
 women, and one without for m«n. 
 
UARDA. 121 
 
 The dwarf Nemu was brought before the regent and 
 threw himself on the ground at his feet. 
 
 Ani ordered the attendants to leave him, and said to the 
 little man : 
 
 "You compelled me to put you in prison. Stand up ! " 
 
 The dwarf rose and said, ** Be thanked— for my arrest 
 too. " 
 
 The regent looked at him in astonishment ; but Nemu 
 went on half humbly, half in fun, " I feared for my life, 
 but thou hast not only not shortened it, but hast prolonged 
 it ; for in the solitude of the dungeon time seemed long, 
 and the minutes grown to hours." 
 
 ''Keep your wit for the ladies," replied the regent 
 *• Did I not know that you meant well, and acted in 
 accordance with the Lady Katuti's fancy, I would send 
 you to the quarries." 
 
 "My hands," mumbled the dwarf, " could only break 
 stones for a game of draughts ; but my tongue is like the 
 water, which makes one peasant rich, and carries away 
 the fields of another." 
 
 "We shall know how to dam it up." 
 
 " For my lady and for thee it will always flow the right 
 way," said the dwarf. "I showed the complaining 
 citizens who it is that slaughters their flesh and blood, and 
 from whom to look for peace and content. I poured 
 caustic into their wounds, and praised the physician." 
 
 * * But unasked and recklessly, " interrupted Ani ; * ' other- 
 wise you have shown yourself capable, and I am willing 
 to spare you for a future time. But over-busy friends are 
 more damaging than intelligent enemies. When I need 
 your service I will call for you. Till the i avoid speech. 
 Now go to your mistress, and carry to I atuti this letter 
 which has arrived for her." 
 
 "Hail to Ani, the son of the Sun !" c/ied the dwarf, 
 kissing the regent's foot. " Have I no letter to carry to 
 my mistress Nefert ? " 
 
 "Greet her from me," replied the regent. "Tell 
 Katuti I will visit her after the next meal. The king's 
 charioteer has not written, yet I hear that he is well. Go 
 now, and be silent and discreet." 
 
 The dwarf quitted the room, and Ani went into an airy 
 jiall, in which his luxurious meal \v^s laid out, con- 
 
123 UARDA. 
 
 sisting of many dishes prepared with special care. His 
 appetite was gone, but he tasted of every dish, and gave 
 the steward, who attended on him, his opinion of each. 
 
 Meanwhile he thought of the king's letter, of Bent-Anat, 
 and whether it would be advisable to expose himself to a 
 rejection on her part. 
 
 After the meal he gave himself up to his body-servant, 
 who carefully shaved, painted, dressed, and decorated 
 him, and then held the mirror before him. He considered 
 the reflection with anxious observation, and when he 
 seated himself in his litter to be borne to the house of his 
 friend Katuti, he said to himself that he still might claim 
 to be called a handsome man. 
 
 If he paid his court to Bent-Anat — if she listened to his 
 suit — what then ? 
 
 He would refer it to Katuti, who always knew how to 
 say a decisive word when he, entangled in a hundred />ros 
 and cons, feared to venture on a final step. 
 
 By her advice he had sought to wed the princess, as a 
 fresh mark of honor — as an addition to his revenues — 
 as a pledge for his personal safety. His heart had never 
 been more or less attached to her than to any other beau- 
 tiful woman in Egypt. Now her proud and noble person- 
 ality stood before his inward eye, and he felt as if he must 
 look up to it as to a vision high out of his reach. It vexed 
 him that he had followed Katuti's advice, and he began to 
 wish his suit had been repulsed. Marriage with Bent- 
 Anat seemed to him beset with difficulties. His mood was 
 that of a man who craves some brilliant position, though 
 he knows that its requirements are beyond his powers — 
 that of an ambitious soul to whom kingly honors are 
 offered on condition that he will never remove a heavy 
 crown from his head. If indeed another plan should suc- 
 ceed, if — and his eyes flashed eagerly — if fate set him on 
 the seat of Rameses, then the alliance with Bent-Anat 
 would lose its terrors ; there would he be her absolute king 
 and lord and master, and no one could require him to 
 account for what he might be to her^^ or vouchsafe to her, 
 
UARDA. 123 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 During the events we have described the house of the 
 charioteer Mena had not remained free from visitors. 
 
 It resembled the neighboring estate of Paaker, though 
 the buildings were less new, the gay paint on the pillars 
 and walls was faded, and the large garden lacked careful 
 attention. In the vicinity of the house only, a few well- 
 kept beds blazed with splendid flowers, and the open colon- 
 nade, which was occupied by Katuti and her daughter, 
 was furnished with royal magnificence. 
 
 The elegantly carved seats were made of ivory, the 
 tables of ebony, and they, as well as the couches, had gilt 
 feet. The artistically worked Syrian drinking vessels on 
 the sideboard, tables, and consoles were of many forms ; 
 beautiful vases full of flowers stood everywhere ; rare per- 
 fumes rose from alabaster cups, and the foot sank in the 
 thick pile of the carpets which covered the floor. 
 
 And over the apparently careless arrangement of these 
 various objects there reigned a peculiar charm, an inde- 
 scribably fascinating something. 
 
 Stretched at full length on a couch, and playing with a 
 silky-haired white cat, lay the fair Nefert — fanned to cool- 
 ness by a negro girl — while her mother Katuti nodded a 
 last farewell to her sister Setchem and to Paaker. 
 
 Both had crossed this threshold for the first time for 
 four years ; that is, since the marriage of Mena with 
 Nefert, and the old enmity seemed now to have given way 
 to heartfelt reconciliation and mutual understanding. 
 
 After the pioneer and his mother had disappeared behind 
 the pomegranate shrubs at the entrance of the garden, 
 Katuti turned to her daughter and said : 
 
 "Who would have thought it yesterday? I believe 
 Paaker loves you still." 
 
 Nefert colored, and exclaimed softly, while she hit the 
 tcitten gently with her fan : 
 
124 UARDA. 
 
 Katuti smiled. 
 
 She was a tall woman, of noble demeanor, whose sharp 
 but delicately-cut features and sparkling eyes could still 
 assert some pretensions to feminine beauty. She wore a 
 long robe, which reached below her ankles ; it was of 
 costly material, but dark in color, and of a studied simpli- 
 city. Instead of the ornaments in bracelets, anklets, ear 
 and finger-rings, in necklaces and clasps, which most of the 
 Egyptian ladies — and indeed her own sister and daughter 
 . — were accustomed to wear, she had only fresh flowers, 
 which were never wanting in the garden other son-in-law. 
 Only a plain gold diadem, the badge of her royal descent, 
 always rested, from early morning till late at night, on her 
 high brow— for a woman too high, though nobly formed 
 — and confined the long blue-black hair, which fell un- 
 braided down her back, as if its owner contemned the vain 
 labor of arranging it artistically. But nothing in her ex- 
 terior was unpremeditated, and the unbejeweled wearer of 
 the diadem, in her plain dress, and with her royal figure, 
 was everywhere sure of being observed, and of finding 
 imitators of her dress, and indeed of her demeanor. 
 
 And yet Katuti had long lived in need ; ay, at the very 
 hour when we first make her acquaintance, she had little 
 of her own, but lived on the estate of her son-in-law as 
 his guest, and as the administrator of his possessions; and 
 before the marriage of her daughter she had lived with 
 her children in a house belonging to her sister Setchem. 
 
 She had been the wife of her own brother,* who had 
 died young, and who had squandered the greatest part of 
 the possessions which had been left to him by the new 
 royal family, in an extravagant love of display. 
 
 When she became a widow, she was received as a sister, 
 with her children, by her brother-in-law, Paaker's father. 
 She lived in a house of her own, enjoyed the income of an 
 estate assigned to her by the old Mohar, and left to her 
 son-in-law the care of educating her son, a handsome 
 
 * Marriages between brothers and sisters were allowed in ancient 
 Egypt. The Ptolemaic princes adopted this, which was contrary to the 
 Macedonian customs. When Ptolemy II. Philadelphus married his 
 sister Arsinoe, it seems to have been thought necessary to excuse it by 
 the relative positions of Venus and Saturn at that period, and the con- 
 straining influence of these planets. 
 
UARDA. 125 
 
 and overbearing lad, with all the claims and pretensions of 
 a youth of distinction. 
 
 Such great benefits would have oppressed and disgraced 
 the proud Katuti, if she had been content with them and 
 in every way agreed with the giver. But this was by no 
 means the case ; rather, she believed that she might pretend 
 to a more brilliant outward position, felt herself hurt when 
 her heedless son while he attended school, was warned to 
 work more seriously, as he would by and by have to rely 
 on his own skill and his own strength. And it had 
 wounded her when occasionally her brother-in-law had 
 suggested economy, and had reminded her, in his straight- 
 forward way, of her narrow means, and the uncertain 
 future of her children. 
 
 At this she was deeply offended, for she ventured to 
 say that her relatives could never, with all their gifts, 
 compensate for the insults they heaped upon her ; and thus 
 taught them by experience that we quarrel with no one 
 more readily than with the benefactor whom we can never 
 repay for all the good he bestows on us. 
 
 Nevertheless, when her brother-in-law asked the hand 
 of her daughter for his son, she willingly gave her con- 
 sent. 
 
 Nefert and Paaker had grown up together, and by this 
 union she foresaw that she could secure her own future 
 and that of her children. 
 
 Shortly after the death of the Mohar, the charioteer 
 Mena had proposed for Nefert's hand, but would have 
 been refused if the king himself had not supported the 
 suit of his favorite officer. After the wedding, she retired 
 with Nefert to Mena's house, and undertook, while he was 
 at the war, to manage his great estates, which, however, 
 had been greatly burdened with debt by his father. 
 
 Fate put the means into her hands of indemnifying her- 
 self and her children for many past privations, and she 
 availed herself of them to gratify her innate desire to be 
 esteemed and admired ; to obtain admission for her son, 
 splendidly equipped, into a company of chariot-warriors of 
 the highest class ; and to surround her daughter with 
 princely magnificence. 
 
 When the regent, who had been a friend of her late 
 husband, removed into the palace of the Pharaohs, he 
 
126 UARDA. 
 
 made her advances, and the clever and decided woman 
 knew how to make herself at first agreeable, and finally- 
 indispensable, to the vacillating man. 
 
 She availed herself of the circumstance that she, as well 
 as he, was descended from the old royal house to pique 
 his ambition, and to open to him a view, which, even to 
 think of, he would have considered forbidden as a crime, 
 before he became intimate with her. 
 
 Ani's suit for the hand of the Princess Bent-Anat was 
 Katuti's work. She hoped that the Pharaoh would refuse, 
 and personally offend the regent, and so make him more 
 inchned to tread the dangerous road which she was 
 endeavoring to smooth for him. The dwarf Nemu was 
 her pliant tool. 
 
 She had not initiated him into her projects by any 
 words ; he, however, gave utterance to every impulse of 
 her mind in free language, which was punished only with 
 blows from a fan, and, only the day before, had been so 
 audacious as to say that if the Pharaoh were called Ani 
 instead of Rameses, Katuti would be not a queen but a 
 goddess, for she would then have not to obey, but rather 
 to guide, the Pharaoh, who indeed himself was related to 
 the immortals. 
 
 Katuti did not observe her daughter's blush, for she was 
 looking anxiously out at the garden gate, and said : 
 
 ** Where can Nemu be I There must be some news 
 arrived for us from the army. " 
 
 *'Mena has not written for so long," Nefert said, softly. 
 *' Ah ! here is the steward ! " 
 
 Katuti turned to the officer, who had entered the veranda 
 through a side door. 
 
 * ' What do you bring .? '* she asked. 
 
 *'The dealer Abscha," was the answer, *' presses for 
 payment. The new Syrian chariot and the purple 
 cloth " 
 
 ''Sell some corn," ordered Katuti. 
 
 ''Impossible, for the tribute to the temples is not yet 
 paid, and already so much has been delivered to the deal- 
 ers that scarcely enough remains over for the maintenance 
 of the household and for sowing." 
 
 * ' Then pay with beasts. " 
 
 "But, madam," said the steward, sorrowfully, *' only 
 
UARDA. 127 
 
 yesterday we again sold a herd to the Mohar : and the 
 water-wheels must be turned, and the corn must be 
 thrashed, and we need beasts for sacrifice, and milk, 
 butter, and cheese for the use of the house, and dung for 
 firing/'* 
 
 Katuti looked thoughtfully at the ground. 
 
 *' It must be, "she said presently. " Ride to Hermonthis, 
 and say to the keeper of the stud that he must have ten 
 of Mena's golden bays driven over here. '* 
 
 **I have already spoken to him, "said the steward, "but 
 he maintains that Mena strictly forbade him to part with 
 even one of the horses, for he is proud of the stock. Only 
 for the chariot of the lady Nefert " 
 
 **I require obedience," said Katuti, decidedly, and cut- 
 ting short the steward's words, ' ' and I expect the horses 
 to-morrow. " 
 
 **But the stud-master is a daring man, whom Mena 
 looks upon as indispensable, and he " 
 
 " I command here, and not the absent," cried Katuti, 
 enraged, ** and I require the horses in spite of the former 
 orders of my son-in-law. " 
 
 Nefert, during this conversation, pulled herself up from 
 her indolent attitude. On hearing the last words she rose 
 from her couch, and said, with a decision which surprised 
 even her mother : 
 
 **The orders of my husband must be obeyed. The 
 horses that Mena loves shall stay in their stalls. Take 
 this armlet that the king gave me ; it is worth more than 
 twenty horses." 
 
 The steward examined the trinket, richly set with pre- 
 cious stones, and looked inquiringly at Katuti. She 
 shrugged her shoulders, nodded consent, and said : 
 
 "Abscha shall hold it as a pledge till Mena's booty 
 arrives. For a year your husband has sent nothing of 
 importance." 
 
 When the steward was gone, Nefert stretched herself 
 again on her couch and said, wearily : 
 
 "I thought we were rich." 
 
 "We might be," said Katuti, bitterly; but as she per- 
 ceived that Nefert's cheeks again were glowing, she said 
 
   In Egypt, where there is so little wood, to this day the dried dung of 
 beasts is the commonest kind of fueL 
 
128 UARDA. 
 
 amiably: *'Our high rank imposes great duties on us. 
 Princely blood flows in our veins, and the eyes of the 
 people are turned on the wife of the most brilliant hero in 
 the king s army. They shall not say that she is neglected 
 by her husband. How long Mena remains away ! " 
 
 *' I hear a noise in the court," said Nefert. *' The re- 
 gent is coming." 
 
 Katuti turned again toward the garden. 
 
 A breathless slave rushed in, and announced that Bent- 
 Anat, the daughter of the king, had dismounted at the 
 gate, and was approaching the garden with the Prince 
 Rameri. 
 
 Nefert left her couch, and went with her mother to 
 meet the exalted visitors. 
 
 As the mother and daughter bowed to kiss the robe of 
 the princess, Bent-Anat signed them back from her. 
 *' Keep farther from me," she said ; *' the priests have not 
 yet entirely absolved me from my uncleanness." 
 
 ''And in spite of them thou art clean in the sight of 
 Ra ! " exclaimed the boy who accompanied her, her brother 
 of seventeen, who was brought up at the House of Seti, 
 which, however he was to leave in a few weeks — and he 
 kissed her. 
 
 ** I shall complain to Ameni of this wild boy," said 
 Bent-Anat, smiling, "He would positively accompany 
 me. Your husband, Nefert, is his model, and I had no 
 peace in the house, for we came to bring you good 
 news." 
 
 ''From Mena?" asked the young wife, pressing her 
 hand to her heart. 
 
 "As you say," returned Bent-Anat. "My father 
 praises his ability, and writes that he, before all others, 
 will have his choice at the dividing of the spoil." 
 
 Nefert threw a triumphant glance at her mother, and 
 Katuti drew a deep breath. 
 
 Bent-Anat stroked Nefert's cheeks like those of a child. 
 Then she turned to Katuti, led her into the garden, and 
 begged her to aid her, who had so early lost her mother, 
 with her advice in a weighty matter. 
 
 " My father," she continued, after a few introductory 
 words, " informs me that the Regent Ani desires me for 
 his wife, and advises me to reward the fidelity of the 
 
tTARDA. 129 
 
 worthy man with my hand. He advises it, you under- 
 stand — he does not command." 
 
 ''And thou?" asked Katuti. 
 
 ''And I?" replied Bent-Anat, decidedly, "must refuse 
 him." 
 
 "Thou must!** 
 
 Bent-Anat made a sign of assent and went on. 
 
 "It is quite clear to me. I can do nothing else." 
 
 "Then thou dost not need my counsel, since even 
 thy father, I well know, will not be able to alter thy 
 decision. " 
 
 " No god even could alter this one I " said Bent-Anat, 
 firmly. "But you are Ani's friend, and, as I esteem him, 
 I would save him this humiliation. Endeavor to persuade 
 him to give up his suit. I will meet him as though I 
 knew nothing of his letter to my father/' 
 
 Katuti looked down reflectively. Then she said : "The 
 regent certainly likes very well to pass his hours of 
 leisure with me gossiping or playing draughts, but I do 
 not know that I should dare to speak to him of so grave a 
 matter." 
 
 "Marriage projects are women*s affairs," said Bent* 
 Anat, smiling. 
 
 "But the marriage of a princess is a state event," replied 
 the widow. "In this case, it is true the uncle only courts 
 his niece, who is dear to him, and who he hopes will make 
 the second half of his life the brightest. Ani is kind and 
 without severity. Thou wouldst win in him a husband, 
 who would wait on thy looks, and bow willingly to thy 
 strong will." 
 
 Bent-Anat's eyes flashed, and she hastily exclaimed : 
 "That is exactly what forces the decisive irrevocable 'No* 
 to my lips. Do you think that bQcause I am as proud as 
 my mother, and resolute hke my father, that I wish for a 
 husband whom I could govern and lead as I would.? How 
 little you know me ! I will be obeyed by my dogs, my 
 servants, my officers, if the gods so will it, by my children. 
 Abject beings, who will kiss my feet, I meet on every 
 road, and can buy by the hundred, if I wish it, in the 
 slave market. I may be courted twenty times, and reject 
 twenty suitors, but not because I fear that they might 
 bend my pride and my: will ; on the contrary, because I feel 
 
 9 
 
13© UARDA. 
 
 them increased. The man to whom I could wish to offer 
 my hand must be of a loftier stamp, must be greater, 
 firmer, and better than I, and I will flutter after the mighty 
 wing-strokes of his spirit, and smile at my own weakness, 
 and glory in admiring his superiority. " 
 
 Katuti listened to the maiden with the smile by which 
 the experienced love to signify their superiority over the 
 visionary. 
 
 ''Ancient times may have produced such men," she 
 said. * * But if in these days thou thinkest to find one, thou 
 wilt wear the lock of youth * till thou art gray. Our 
 thinkers are no heroes, and our heroes are no sages. 
 Here come thy brother and Nefert." 
 
 "Will you persuade Ani to give up his suit?" said the 
 princess, urgently. 
 
 "I will endeavor to do so, for thy sake,** replied Katuti. 
 Then, turning half to the young Rameri and half to his 
 sister, she said : 
 
 "The chief of the House of Seti, Ameni, was in his 
 youth such a man as thou paintest, Bent-Anat. Tell us, 
 thou son of Rameses, that art growing up under the young 
 sycamores, which shall some day overshadow the land — 
 whom dost thou esteem the highest among thy compan- 
 ions? Is there one among them who is conspicuous 
 above them all for a lofty spirit and the strength of in- 
 tellect?" 
 
 The young Rameri looked gayly at the speaker, and said, 
 laughing : * ' We are all much alike, and do more or less 
 willingly what we are compelled, and by preference every- 
 thing we ought not. " 
 
 ' ' A mighty soul — a youth, who promises to be a secondf 
 Snefru, a Thotmes, or even an Ameni ? Dost thou know 
 none such in the House of Seti? " asked the widow. 
 
 " Oh yes ! " cried Rameri, with eager certainty. 
 
 "And he is ? " asked Katuti. 
 
 * The lock of youth was a curl of hair which all the younger members 
 of princely families wore at the side of the head. The young Horus is 
 represented with it 
 
 1 The first king of the fourth dynasty, who to a late date was held in 
 high honor, and of whom it is said in several places that " the like has 
 not been seen since the days of Snefru." The monuments of his time 
 are the earliest which have generally come down to us. 
 
UARDA. 13 1 
 
 *'Pentaur, the poet," exclaimed the youth. Bent-Anat's 
 face glowed with scarlet color, while her brother went on 
 to explain. 
 
 *' He is noble and of a lofty soul, and all the gods dwell 
 in him when he speaks. Formerly we used to go to sleep 
 in the lecture-hall ; but his words carry us away, and if we 
 do not take in the full meaning of his thoughts, yet we 
 feel that they are genuine and noble." 
 
 Bent-Anat breathed quicker at the§e words, her eyes 
 hung on the boy's lips. 
 
 *' You know him, Bent-Anat," continued Rameri. ** He 
 was with you at the paraschites' house, and in the temple- 
 court when Ameni pronounced you unclean. He is as tall 
 and handsome as the God Menth,* and I feel that he is 
 one of those whom we can never forget when once we 
 have seen them. Yesterday, after you had left the temple, 
 he spoke as he never spoke before ; he poured fire into our 
 souls. Do not laugh, Katuti, I feel it burning still. This 
 morning we were informed that he had been sent from the 
 temple, who knows where — and had left us a message of 
 farewell. It was not thought at all necessary to commu- 
 nicate the reason to us ; but we know more than the 
 masters think. He did not reprove you strongly enough, 
 Bent-Anat, and therefore he is driven out of the House of 
 Seti. We have agreed to combine to ask for him to be 
 recalled ; Anana is drawing up a letter to the chief priest, 
 which we shall all subscribe. It would turn out badly for 
 one alone, but they cannot be at all of us at once. Very 
 likely they will have the sense to recall him. If not, we 
 shall all complain to our fathers, and they are not the 
 meanest in the land." 
 
 ** It is a complete rebellion," cried Katuti. ''Take care, 
 you lordlings ; Ameni and the other prophets are not to be 
 trifled with." 
 
 " Nor we either," said Rameri, laughing. " If Pentaur 
 is kept in banishment, I shall appeal to my father to place 
 me at the school at Heliopolis or Chennu, an^ the others 
 will follow me. Come, Bent-Anat, I must be back in the 
 trap before sunset. Excuse me, Katuti, so we call the 
 school. Here comes your little Nemu." 
 
 The brother and sister left the garden. 
 
 * Menth, the Egyptian God of War. 
 
132 UARDA. 
 
 As soon as the ladies, who accompanied them, had 
 turned their backs, Bent-Anat grasped her brother's hand 
 with unaccustomed warmth, and said : 
 
 ''Avoid all imprudenc6 ; but your demand is just, and I 
 will help you with all my heart. " 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 As soon as Bent-Anat had quitted Mena's domain, the 
 dwarf Nemu entered the garden with a letter, and briefly 
 related his adventures ; but in such a comical fashion that 
 both the ladies laughed, and Katuti, with a lively gayety, 
 which was usually foreign to her, while she warned him, 
 at the same time praised his acuteness. She looked at the 
 seal of the letter, and said : 
 
 ''This is a lucky day ; it has brought us great things, 
 and the promise of greater things in the future." 
 
 Nefert came close up to her and said imploringly : 
 '* Open the letter, and see if there is nothing in it from 
 him. " 
 
 Katuti unfastened the wax, looked through the letter 
 with a hasty glance, stroked the cheek of her child, and 
 said : 
 
 " Perhaps your brother has written for him ; I see no 
 line in his handwriting." 
 
 Nefert on her side glanced at the letter, but not to read 
 it, only to seek some trace of the well-known handwriting 
 of her husband. 
 
 Like all the Egyptian women of good family she could 
 read, and during the first two years of her married life she 
 had often — very often — had the opportunity of puzzling, 
 and yet rejoicing, over the feeble signs which the iron 
 hand of the .charioteer had scrawled on the papyrus for 
 her whose slender fingers could guide the reed-pen with 
 firmness and decision. 
 
 She examined the letter, and at last said, with tears in 
 her eyes : 
 
 " Nothing I I will go to my room, mother." 
 
UARDA. 
 
 ^23 
 
 Katuti kissed her and said : ** Hear first what your 
 brother writes. " 
 
 But Nefert shook her head, turned away in silence, and 
 disappeared into the house. 
 
 Katuti was not very friendly to her son-in-law, but her 
 heart clung to her handsome, reckless son, the very image 
 of her lost husband, the favorite of women, and the gayest 
 youth among the young nobles who composed the chariot- 
 guard of the king. 
 
 How fully he had written to-day — he who wielded the 
 reed-pen so laboriously. 
 
 This really was a letter ; while, usually, he only asked 
 in the fewest words for fresh funds for the gratification of 
 his extravagant tastes. 
 
 This time she might look for thanks, for not long since 
 he must have received a considerable supply, which she 
 had abstracted from the income of the possessions en- 
 trusted to her by her son-in-law. 
 
 She began to read. 
 
 The cheerfulness with which she had met the dwarf was 
 insincere, and had resembled the brilliant colors of the rain- 
 bow, which gleam over the stagnant waters of a bog. A 
 stone falls into the pool, the colors vanish, dim mists rise 
 up, and it becomes foul and cloudy. 
 
 The news which her son's letter contained fell, indeed, 
 like a block of stone on Katuti's soul. 
 
 Our deepest sorrows always flow from the same source as 
 might have filled us with joy, and those wounds burn the 
 fiercest which are inflicted by a hand we love. 
 
 The further Katuti went in the lamentably incorrect 
 epistle — which she could only decipher with difiiculty — 
 which her darling had written to her, the paler grew her 
 face, which she several times covered with the trembling 
 hands, from which the letter dropped. 
 
 Nemu squatted on the earth near her, and followed all 
 her movements. 
 
 When she sprang forward with a heart-piercing scream, 
 and pressed her forehead to a rough, palm-trunk, he 
 crept up to her, kissed her feet, and exclaimed, with a 
 depth of feeling that overcame even Katuti, who was ac- 
 customed to hear only gay or bitter speeches from the lips 
 of her jester : 
 
134 IJARDA. 
 
 ** Mistress I lady ! what has happened ? * 
 
 Katuti collected herself, turned to him, and tried to 
 speak ; but her pale lips remained closed, and her eyes 
 gazed dimly into vacancy as though a catalepsy had seized 
 her. 
 
 "Mistress ! Mistress ! " cried the dwarf again, with grow- 
 ing agitation. **What is the matter? shall I call thy 
 daughter ? " 
 
 Katuti made a sign with her hand, and cried feebly : 
 ** The wretches ! the reprobates 1 " 
 
 Her breath began to come quickly, the blood mounted 
 to her cheeks and her flashing eyes ; she trod upon the 
 letter, and wept so loud and passionately tJiat the dwarf, 
 who had never before seen tears in her eyes, raised himself 
 timidly, and said in mild reproach : " Katuti ! " 
 
 She laughed bitterly, and said with a trembling voice : 
 
 ** Why do you call my name so loud ; it is disgraced and 
 degraded. How the nobles and the ladies will rejoice I 
 Now envy can point at us with spiteful joy — and a minute 
 ago I was praising this day I They say one should exhibit 
 one's happiness in the streets, and conceal one's misery ; 
 on the contrary, on the contrary ! Even the gods should 
 not know of one's hopes and joys, for they too are envious 
 and spiteful ! " 
 
 Again she leaned her head against the palm-tree. 
 
 **Thou speakest of shame, and not of death," said 
 Nemu, ' ' and I learned from thee that one should give noth- 
 ing up for lost excepting the dead." 
 
 These words had a powerful effect on the agitated 
 woman. Quickly and vehemently she turned upon the 
 dwarf, saying : 
 
 " You are clever, and faithful too, so listen ! but if you 
 were Amon himself there is nothing to be done " 
 
 **We must try," said Nemu, and his sharp eyes met 
 those of his mistress. 
 
 " Speak," he said, " and trust me. Perhaps I can be of 
 no use ; but that I can be silent thou knowest." 
 
 "Before long the children in the streets will talk of 
 what this tells me," said Katuti, laughing with bitterness, 
 "only Nefert must know nothing of what has happened 
 —nothing, mind ; what is that ? the regent coming I 
 
UARDA. 135 
 
 quick, fly ; tell him I am suddenly taken ill, very ill ; I 
 cannot see him, not now I No one is to be admitted- 
 no one, do you hear?" 
 
 The dwarf went. 
 
 When he came back after he had fulfilled his errand, he 
 found his mistress still in a fever of excitement. 
 
 " Listen," she said ; "first the smaller matter, then the 
 frightful, the unspeakable. Rameses loads Mena with 
 marks of his favor. It came to a division of the spoils of 
 war, for the year ; a great heap of treasure lay ready for 
 each of his followers, and the charioteer had to choose 
 before all the others." 
 
 " Well ?" said the dwarf. 
 
 *' Well I " echoed Katuti. "Well I how did the worthy 
 householder care for his belongings at home, how did he 
 seek to relieve his indebted estate ? It is disgraceful, hid- 
 eous ! He passed by the silver, the gold,, the jewels, with 
 a laugh ; and took the captive daughter of the Danaid 
 princes, and led her into his tent. " 
 
 *' Shameful I" muttered the dwarf. 
 
 " Poor, poor Nefert I " cried Katuti, covering her face 
 with her hands. 
 
 ** And what more ? " asked Nemu, hastily. 
 
 '*That," said Katuti, "that is— but I will keep calm- 
 quite calm and quiet. You know my son. He is heed- 
 less, but he loves me and his sister more than anything in 
 the world. I, fool as I was, to persuade him to economy, 
 had vividly described our evil plight, and after that dis- 
 graceful conduct of Mena he thought of us and of our 
 anxieties. His share of the booty was small, and could 
 not help us. His comrades threw dice for the shares they 
 had obtained — he staked his to win more for us. He lost 
 — all — all — and at last against an enormous sum, still 
 thinking of us, and only of us, he staked the mummy of 
 his dead father.* He lost. If he does not redeem the 
 pledge before the expiration of the third month, he will 
 
 * It was a king of the fourth dynasty, named Asychis by Herodotus, 
 who, it is admitted, was the first to pledge the mummies of nis ancestors. 
 *' He who stakes this pledge and fails to redeem the debt shall, after his 
 death, rest neither in his father's tomb nor in any other, and sepulture 
 shall be denied to his descendants." Herod, il, 136. 
 
136 UARDA. 
 
 fall into infamy,* the mummy will beloni^ to the winner, 
 and disgrace and ignominy will be my lot and his." 
 
 Katuti pressed her hands on her face, the dwarf mut- 
 tered to himself, "The gambler and hypocrite I " 
 
 When his mistress had grown calmer, he said : 
 
 '' It is horrible, yet all is not lost. How much is the 
 debt?" 
 
 It sounded like a heavy curse, when Katuti replied, 
 '* Thirty Babylonian talents I " f 
 
 The dwarf cried out, as if an asp had stung him : " Who 
 dared to bid against such a mad stake ? " 
 
 *'The Lady Hathor's son, Antef," answered Katuti, 
 *' who has already gambled away the inheritance of his 
 fathers in Thebes." 
 
 "He will not remit one grain of wheat of his claim," 
 cried the dwarf. ** And Men a ? '* 
 
 *' How could my son turn to him after what has hap- 
 pened? The poor child implores me to ask the assistance 
 of the regent." 
 
 * ' Of the regent ? " said the dwarf, shaking his big head. 
 ** Impossible? " 
 
 "I know, as matters now stand; but his place, his 
 name." 
 
 "Mistress," said the dwarf, and deep purpose rang in 
 the words, "do not spoil the future for the sake of the 
 present. If thy son loses his honor under King Rameses, 
 the future King, Ani, may restore it to him. If the 
 regent now renders you all an important service, he will 
 regard you as amply paid when our efforts have succeeded, 
 and he sits on the throne. He lets himself be led by thee 
 now because thou hast no need of his help, and dost seem 
 to work only for his sake, and for his elevation. As soon 
 as thou hast appealed to him, and he has assisted thee, all 
 thy confidence and freedom will be gone, and the more 
 difficult he finds it to raise so large a sum of money at 
 once, the angrier he will be to think that thou art making 
 use of him. Thou knowest his circumstances." 
 
 " He is in debt," said Katuti. " I know that." 
 
 •*Thou shouldst know it," cried the dwarf, "for thou 
 
 * This it would appear was the heaviest punishment which could fall 
 on an Egyptian soldier. Diod. i., 78. 
 t £ 6,750 sterling. 
 
UARDA. 137 
 
 thyself hast forced him to enormous expenses. He has 
 won the people of Thebes with dazzling festive displays ; 
 as guardian of Apis * he gave a large donation to Memphis ; 
 he bestowed thousands on the leaders of the troops sent 
 into Ethiopia, which were equipped by him ; what his spies 
 cost him at the camp of the king thou knowest. He has 
 borrowed sums of money from most of the rich men in 
 the country, and that is well, for so many creditors are so 
 many allies. The regent is a bad debtor; but the King 
 Ani, they reckon, will be a grateful payer." 
 
 Katuti looked at the dwarf in astonishment. 
 
 ** You know men ! " she said. 
 
 *'To my sorrow ! " replied Nemu. "Do not apply to 
 the regent, and before thou dost sacrifice the labor of years, 
 and thy future greatness, and that of those near to thee, 
 sacrifice thy son's honor." 
 
 *' And my husband's and my own ? " exclaimed Katuti. 
 " How can you know what that is ! Honor is a word that 
 the slave may utter, but whose meaning he can never com- 
 prehend ; you rub the weals that are raised on you by 
 blows ; to me every finger pointed at me in scorn makes 
 a wound like an ashwood lance with a poisoned tip of brass. 
 Oh ye holy gods ! who can help us ? " 
 
 The miserable woman pressed her hands over her eyes, 
 as if to shut out the sight of her own disgrace. 
 
 The dwarf looked up at her compassionately, and said, 
 in a changed tone : 
 
 *'Dost thou remember the diamond which fell out of 
 Nefert's handsomest ring ? We hunted for it, and could 
 not find it. Next day, as I was going through the room, 
 I trod on something hard ; I stooped down and found the 
 stone. What the noble organ of sight, the eye, overlooked, 
 the callous despised sole of the foot found ; and perhaps 
 the small slave, Nemu, who knows nothing of honor, may 
 succeed in finding a mode of escape which is not revealed 
 to the lofty soul of his mistress ! " 
 
 '* What are you thinking of? " asked Katuti. 
 
 * When Apis (the sacred bull) died under Ptolemy I. Soter, his keepers 
 spent not only the money which they had received for his maintenance, 
 in his obsequies, but borrowed fifty talents of silver (;i^i 1,250) from the 
 Hing. In the time of Diodorus one hundred talents were spent for the 
 i|c^me purpose. 
 
I3S UARDA. 
 
 **Escape," answered the dwarf. "Is it true that thy 
 sister Setchem has visited thee, and that you are recon- 
 ciled ? " 
 
 ''She offered me her hand, and I took it ! " 
 
 *'Then go to her. Men are nevermore helpful than 
 after a reconciliation. The enmity they have driven out, 
 seems to leave, as it were, a freshly-healed wound which 
 must be touched with caution ; and Setchem is of thy own 
 blood, and kind-hearted. " 
 
 "She is not rich," replied Katuti. "Every palm in 
 her garden comes from her husband, and belongs to her 
 children." 
 
 ' * Paaker, too, was with you ? " 
 
 * ' Certainly only by the entreaty of his mother — he hates 
 my son-in-law." 
 
 " I know it," muttered the dwarf, "but if Nefert would 
 ask him ? " 
 
 The widow drew herself up indignantly. She felt that 
 she had allowed the dwarf too much freedom, and ordered 
 him to leave her alone. 
 
 Nemu kissed her robe and asked, timidly : 
 'Shall I forget that thou hast trusted me, or am I per- 
 mitted to consider further as to thy son's safety ? " 
 
 Katuti stood for a moment undecided, then she 
 said : 
 
 "You were clever enough to find what I carelessly 
 dropped ; perhaps some god may show you what I ought 
 to do. Now leave me." 
 
 ' ' Wilt thou want me early to-morrow ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Then I will go to the Necropolis, and offer a 
 sacrifice. " 
 
 "Go 1 " said Katuti, and went toward the house with 
 the fatal letter in her hand. 
 
 Nemu stayed behind alone ; he looked thoughtfully at 
 the ground, murmuring to himself : 
 
 "She must not lose her honor ; not at present, or indeed 
 all will be lost. What is this honor ? We all come into 
 the world without it, and most of us go to the grave with- 
 out knowing it, and very good folks notwithstanding. 
 Only a few who are rich and i41e weave it in with the 
 
UARDA. 
 
 139 
 
 homely stuff of their souls, as the Kuschites* do their 
 hair with grease and oils, till it forms a cap of which, 
 though it disfigures them, they are so proud that they 
 would rather have their ears cut off than the monstrous 
 thing. I see, I see — but before I open my mouth I will go 
 to my mother. She knows more than twenty prophets." 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Before the sun had risen the next morning, Nemu got 
 himself ferried over the Nile, with the small white ass 
 which Men as deceased father had given him many years 
 before. He availed himself of the cool hour which pre- 
 cedes the rising of the sun for his ride through the 
 Necropolis. 
 
 Well acquainted as he was with every stock and stone, 
 he avoided the high roads which led to the goal of his ex- 
 pedition, and trotted toward the hill which divides the 
 valley of the royal tombs from the plain of the Nile. 
 
 Before him opened a noble amphitheater of lofty lime- 
 stone peaks, the background of the stately terrace-temple 
 which the proud ancestress of two kings of the fallen 
 family, the great Hatasu, had erected to their memory, 
 and to the Goddess Hathor. 
 
 Nemu left the sanctuary to his left, and rode up the 
 steep hill-path which was the nearest way from the plain 
 to the valley of the tombs. 
 
 Below him lay a bird's eye view of the terrace-building 
 of Hatasu, and before him, still slumbering in cool dawn, 
 was the Necropolis with its houses and temples and colos- 
 sal statues, thebroadNileglistening with white sails under 
 the morning mist ; and, in the distant east, rosy with the 
 coming sun, stood Thebes and her gigantic temples. 
 
 But the dwarf saw nothing of the glorious panorama 
 that lay at his feet ; absorbed in thought, and stooping 
 over the neck of his ass, he let the panting beast climb 
 and rest at its pleasure. 
 
 * The monuments show us that the ancient negroes of the upper Nile 
 were devote^ to th^se repulsive fashions, as their n^pdqrn descendants 
 are. 
 
I40 UARDA. 
 
 When he had reached half the height of the hill, he per- 
 ceived the sound of footsteps coming nearer and nearer to 
 him. 
 
 The vigorous walker had soon reached him, and bid him 
 good-morning, which he civilly returned. 
 
 The hill-path was narrow, and when Nemu observed 
 that the man who followed him was a priest, he drew up 
 his donkey on a level spot, and said, reverently : 
 
 "Pass on, holy father; for thy two feet carry thee 
 quicker than my four. " 
 
 "A sufferer needs my help," replied the leech Neb- 
 secht, Pentaur's friend, whom we have already seen in the 
 House of Seti, and by the bed of the paraschites' daughter ; 
 and he hastened on so as to gain on the slow pace of the 
 rider. 
 
 Then rose the glowing disk of the sun above the eastern 
 horizon, and from the sanctuaries below the travelers rose 
 up the pious many-voiced chant of praise. 
 
 Nemu slipped off his ass, and assumed an attitude of 
 prayer ; the priest did the same ; but while the dwarf de- 
 voutly fixed his eyes on the new birth of the Sun-god 
 from the eastern range, the priest's eyes wandered to the 
 earth, and his raised hand fell to pick up a rare fossil shell 
 which lay on the path. 
 
 In a few minutes Nebsecht rose, and Nemu followed 
 him. 
 
 "It is a fine morning," said the dwarf; "the holy 
 fathers down there seem more cheerful to-day than 
 usual." 
 
 The surgeon laughed assent. **Do you belong to the 
 Necropolis ? " he said. "Who here keeps dwarfs ? " 
 
 "No one," answered the little man. "But I will ask 
 thee a question. Who that lives here behind the hill is of 
 so much importance that a leech from the House of Seti 
 sacrifices his night's rest for him ? " 
 
 " The one I visit is mean, but the suffering is great," 
 answered Nebsecht. 
 
 Nemu looked at him with admiration, and muttered, 
 
 " That is noble, that is " but he did not finish his 
 
 speech ; he struck his brow and exclaimed, * * You are going, 
 by the desire of the Princess Bent-Anat, to the child of the 
 paraschites that was run oyer. I guessed as much. The 
 
UARDA. 141 
 
 food must have an excellent after-taste, if a gentleman 
 rises so early to eat it. How is the poor child doing ? " 
 
 There was so much warmth in these last words that Neb- 
 secht, who had thought the dwarfs reproach uncalled for, 
 answered in a friendly tone : 
 
 '* Not so badly ; she may be saved." 
 
 " The gods be praised ? " exclaimed Nemu, while the 
 priest passed on. 
 
 Nebsecht went up and down the hillside at a redoubled 
 pace, and had long taken his place by the couch of 
 the wounded Uarda in the hovel of the paraschites, when 
 Nemu drew near to the abode of his Mother Hekt, from 
 whom Paaker had received the philter. 
 
 The old woman sat before the door of her cave. 
 
 Near her lay a board, fitted with cross-pieces, between 
 which a little boy was stretched in such a way that they 
 touched his head and his feet. 
 
 Hekt understood the art of making dwarfs; playthings in 
 human form were well paid for, and the child on the rack 
 with his pretty little face, promised to be a valuable 
 article. 
 
 As soon as the sorceress saw some one approaching, she 
 stooped over the child, took him up, board and all, in her 
 arms, and carried him into the cave. Then she said, 
 sternly : 
 
 ** If you move, little one, I will flog you. Now let me 
 tie you." 
 
 ** Don't tie me," said the child, " I will be good and lie 
 still." 
 
 ** Stretch yourself out," ordered the old woman, and 
 tied the child with a rope to the board. ' * If you are quiet, 
 I'll give you a honey-cake by and by, and let you play 
 with the young chickens." 
 
 The child was quiet, and a soft smile of delight and 
 hope sparkled in his pretty eyes. His little hand caught 
 the dress of the old woman, and with the sweetest coax- 
 ing tone, which God bestows on the innocent voices of 
 children, he said : 
 
 " I will be as still as a mouse, and no one shall know 
 that I am here ; but if you give me the honey-cake you 
 will untie me for a little, and let me go to Uarda." 
 
 " She is ill — what do you want there ? " 
 
14i UARDA. 
 
 " I would take her the cake," said the child, and hii 
 eyes glistened with tears. 
 
 The old woman touched the child's chin with her finger, 
 and some mysterious power prompted her to bend ovei 
 him to liiss him. But before her lips had touched his face 
 she turned away, and said, in a hard tone : 
 
 " Lie still ! by and by we will see." Then she stooped, 
 and threw a brown sack over the child. She went back 
 into the open air, greeted Nemu, entertained him with 
 milk, bread and honey, gave him news of the girl who ha<f. 
 been run over, for he seemed to take her misfortune very 
 much to heart, and finally asked : 
 
 ** What brings you here? The Nile was still narrow 
 when you last found your way to me, and now it has been 
 falling some time.* Are you sent by your mistress, or d<? 
 you want my help ? All the world is aHke. No one goesf 
 to see any one else unless he wants to make use of him. 
 What shall I give you ? " 
 
 ** I want nothing," said the dwarf, " but " 
 
 " You are commissioned by a third person," said the 
 witch, laughing. ** It is the same thing. Whoever wants 
 a thing for some one else only thinks of his own interest. " 
 
 ' ' May be, " said Nemu. * * At any rate your words sho\V 
 that you have not grown unwiser since I saw you last — 
 and I am glad of it, for I want your advice." 
 
 ''Advice is cheap. What is going on out there?" 
 Nemu related to his mother shortly, clearly, and withouf 
 reserve, what was plotting in his mistress' house, and the 
 frightful disgrace with which she was threatened through 
 her son. 
 
 The old woman shook her gray head thoughtfully sev- 
 eral times ; but she let the little man go on to the end of 
 his story without interrupting him. Then she asked, and 
 her eyes flashed as she spoke : 
 
 **And you really believe that you will succeed in put- 
 
 * This is in the beginning of November. The Nile begins slowly to 
 rise early in June; between the fifteenth and twentieth of July it sud- 
 denly swells rapidly, and in the first half of October, not, as was 
 formerly supposed, at the end of September, the inundation reaches its 
 highest level. Heinrich Barth established these data beyond dilute. 
 After the water has begun to sink it rises once more in October and to a 
 liigher level than before. Then it soon falls, at first slowly, but by d» 
 grees quicker and quicker. 
 
UARDA. 145 
 
 ting the sparrow on the eagle's perch — Ani on the thronf 
 of Rameses ? " 
 
 **The troops fighting in Ethiopia are for us," cried 
 Nemu. " The priests declare themselves against the king, 
 and recognize in Ani the genuine blood of Ra." 
 
 ''That is much," said the old woman. 
 
 "And many dogs are the death of the gazelle," said 
 Nemu, laughing. 
 
 "But Rameses is not a gazelle to run, but a lion,*' 
 said the old woman, gravely. "You are playing a higli 
 game." 
 
 "We know it," answered Nemu. "But it is for high 
 stakes — there is much to win." 
 
 "And all to lose," muttered the old woman, passing* 
 her fingers round her scraggy neck. "Well, do as you 
 please — it is all the same to me who it is sends the younj? 
 to be killed, and drives the old folks' cattle from the field 
 What do they want with me ? " 
 
 " No one has sent me," answered the dwarf. " I coirm 
 of my own free fancy to ask you what Katuti must do in 
 save her son and her house from dishonor." 
 
 "Hm!" hummed the witch, looking at Nemu whi^e 
 she raised herself on her stick. "What has come to you 
 that you take the fate of these great people to heart as if 
 it were your own ? " 
 
 The dwarf reddened, and answered, hesitatingly : 
 "Katuti is a good mistress, and, if things go well with 
 her, there may be windfalls for you and me." 
 
 Hekt shook her head doubtfully. 
 
 "A loaf for you, perhaps, and a crumb for me ! " she 
 said. ' * There is more than that in your mind, and I can 
 read your heart as if you were a ripped-up raven. You 
 are one of those who can never keep their fingers at rest, 
 and must knead everybody's dough ; must push, and drive 
 and stir something. Every jacket is too tight for you. 
 If you were three feet taller, and the son of a priest, you 
 might have gone far. High you will go, and high you 
 will end ; as the friend of a king — or on the gallows." 
 
 The old woman laughed ; but Nemu bit his lips, and 
 said : 
 
 " If you had sent me to school, and if I were not the son 
 of a witch, and a dwarf, I would play with men as they 
 
144 UARDA, 
 
 played with me ; for I am cleverer than all of them, and 
 none of their plans are hidden from me. A hundred 
 roads lie before me, when they don't know whether to go 
 out or in ; and where they rush heedlessly forward I see 
 the abyss that they are running to. *' 
 
 "And nevertheless you come to me?" said the old 
 woman sarcastically. 
 
 " I want your advice," said Nemu, seriously. **Four 
 eyes see more than one, and the impartial looker-on sees 
 clearer than the player ; besides you are bound to help 
 me." 
 
 The old woman laughed loud in astonishment. 
 *' Bound ! " she said, *' I ? and to what, if you please ? " 
 
 ^'To help me," replied the dwarf, half in entreaty, and 
 half in reproach. ''You deprived me of my growth, and 
 reduced me to a cripple.'' 
 
 "Because no one is better off than you dwarfs," inter- 
 rupted the witch. 
 
 Nemu shook his head, and answered sadly : 
 
 "You have often said so — and perhaps for many others, 
 who are born in misery like me — perhaps — you are right ; 
 but for me — you have spoiled my life ; you have crippled 
 not my body only, but my soul, and have condemned me 
 to sufferings that are nameless and unutterable." 
 
 The dwarfs big head sank on his breast, and with his 
 left hand he pressed his heart. 
 
 The old woman went up to him kindly. 
 
 "What ails you ? " she asked. "I thought it was well 
 with you in Mena's house." 
 
 "You thought so ? " cried the dwarf "You who show 
 me as in a mirror what I am, and how mysterious powers 
 throng and stir in me? You made me what I am by your 
 arts ; you sold me to the treasurer of Rameses, and he 
 gave me to the father of Mena, his brother-in-law. Fif- 
 teen years ago ! I was a young man then, a youth like any 
 other, only more passionate, more restless and fiery than 
 they. I was given as a plaything to the young Mena, and 
 he harnessed me to his little chariot, and dressed me out 
 with ribbons and feathers, and flogged me when I did not 
 go fast enough. How the girl — for whom I would have 
 given my life — the porter's daughter, laug-hed when I, 
 dressed up in motley, hopped panting in front of the 
 
UARDA. 145 
 
 chariot, and the young lord's whip whistled In my ears, 
 wringing the sweat from my brow, and the blood from my 
 broken heart. Then Mena's father died, the boy went 
 to school, and I waited on the wife of his steward, whom 
 Katuti banished to Hermonthis. That was a time ! The 
 little daughter of the house made a doll of me, laid me in 
 the cradle, and made me shut my eyes and pretend to sleep, 
 while love and hatred, and great projects were strong 
 within me. If I tried to resist they beat me with rods ; 
 and when once, in a rage, I forgot myself, and hit little 
 Mertitefs hard, Mena, who came in, hung me up in the 
 store-room to a nail by my girdle, and left me to swing 
 there ; he said he had forgotten to take me down again. 
 The rats fell upon me ; here are the scars, these little white 
 spots here — look 1 They perhaps will some day wear out, 
 but the wounds that my spirit received in those hours 
 have not yet ceased to bleed. Then Mena married Nefert, 
 and, with her, his mother-in-law Katuti came into the 
 house. She took me from the steward, I became indis- 
 pensable to her ; she treats me like a man, she values my 
 intelligence and listens to my advice — therefore I will 
 make her great, and with her, and through her, I will wax 
 mighty. If Ani mounts the throne, we will guide him — 
 you, and I, and she I Rameses, must fall, and with him 
 Mena, the boy who degraded my body and poisoned my 
 soul ! " 
 
 During this speech the old woman had stood in silence 
 opposite the dwarf. Now she sat down on her rough 
 wooden seat, and said, while she proceeded to pluck a 
 lapwing : 
 
 ''Now I understand you; you wish to be revenged. 
 You hope to rise high, and I am to whet your knife, and 
 hold the ladder for you. Poor little man 1 There, sit 
 down — drink a gulp of milk to cool you, and listen to my 
 advice. Katuti wants a great deal of money to escape 
 dishonor. She need only pick it up — it lies at her 
 door." 
 
 The dwarf looked at the witch in astonishment. 
 
 ''The Mohar Paaker is her sister Setchem's son, is he 
 not?" 
 
 ''As you say.'* 
 
 "Katuti's daughter Nefert is the wife of your mastet 
 10 
 
146 UARDA. 
 
 Mena, and another would like to tempt the neglected 
 Utile hen into his yard." 
 
 "You mean Paaker, to whom Nefert was promised 
 before she went after Mena." 
 
 "Paaker was with me the day before yesterday." 
 
 ''With you?" 
 
 "Yes, with me, with old Hekt — to buy a love-philter. 
 I gave him one, and as I was curious I went after him, 
 saw him give the water to the little lady, and found out 
 her name. " 
 
 "And Nefert drank the magic drink ? " asked the dwarf, 
 horrified. 
 
 " Vinegar and turnip juice," laughed the old witch. "A 
 lord who comes to me to win a wife is ripe for anything. 
 Let Nefert ask Paaker for the money, and the young 
 scapegraces' debts are paid." 
 
 " Katuti is proud, and repulsed me severely when I pro- 
 posed this." 
 
 "Then she must sue to Paaker herself for the money. 
 Go back to him, make him hope that Nefert is inclined to 
 him, tell him what distresses the ladies, and if he refuses, 
 but only if he refuses, let him see that you know some- 
 thing of the little dose." 
 
 The dwarf looked meditatively on the ground, and then 
 said, looking admiringly at the old woman, "That is the 
 right thing." 
 
 "You will find out the lie without my telling you," 
 mumbled the witch ; " your business is not perhaps such 
 a bad one as it seemed to me at first. Katuti may thank 
 the ne'er-do-well who staked his father's corpse. You 
 don't understand me ? Well, if you are really the sharpest 
 of them all over there, what must the others be ? " 
 
 "You mean that people will speak well of my mistress 
 for sacrificing so large a sum for the sake " 
 
 " Whose sake ? why speak well of her ? " cried the old 
 woman, impatiently. " Here we deal with other things, 
 with actual facts. There stands Paaker — there the wife of 
 Mena. If the Mohar sacrifices a fortune for Nefert, he 
 will be her master, and Katuti will not stand in his way ; 
 she knows well enough why her nephew pays for her. 
 But some one else stops the way, and that is Mena. It 
 is worth while to get him out of the way. The charioteer 
 
UARDA. 
 
 U7 
 
 stands close to the Pharaoh, and the noose that is flung 
 at one may easily fall round the neck of the other too. 
 Make the Mohar your ally, and it may easily happen that 
 your rat-bites may be paid for with mortal wounds, and 
 Rameses who, if you marched against him openly, might 
 blow you to the ground, may be hit by a lance thrown 
 from an ambush. When the throne is clear, the weak 
 legs of the regent may succeed in clambering up to it with 
 the help of the priests. Here you sit — open-mouthed ; 
 and I have told you nothing that you might not have 
 found out for yourself. " 
 
 ''You are a perfect cask of wisdom I" exclaimed the 
 dwarf. 
 
 ** And now you will go away," said Hekt, "and reveal 
 your schemes to your mistress and the regent, and they 
 will be astonished at your cleverness. To-day you still 
 know that I have shown you what you have to do ; to- 
 morrow you will have forgotten it ; and the day after to- 
 morrow you will believe yourself possessed by the inspira- 
 tion of the nine great gods. I know that ; but I cannot 
 give anything for nothing. You live by your smallness, 
 another makes his living with his hard hands, I earn my 
 scanty bread by the thoughts of my brain. Listen ! when 
 you have half won Paaker, and Ani shows himself inclined 
 to make use of him, then say to him that I may know 
 a secret — and I do know one, I alone — which may make 
 the Mohar the sport of his wishes, and that I may be dis- 
 posed to sell it." 
 
 * * That shall be done ! certainly, mother, " cried the 
 dwarf. * ' What do you wish for ? " 
 
 "Very little," said the old woman. "Only a permit 
 that makes me free to do and to practice whatever I please, 
 unmolested even by the priests, and to receive an honor- 
 able burial after my death." 
 
 * * The regent will hardly agree to that ; for he must avoid 
 everything that may offend the servants of the gods." 
 
 "And do everything," retorted the old woman, "that 
 can degrade Rameses in their sight. Ani, do you hear, 
 •need not write me a new license, but only renew the old 
 one granted to me by Rameses when I cured his favorite 
 horse. They burnt it with my other possessions, when 
 they plundered my house, and denounced me and my 
 
^f48 UARBA. 
 
 belongings for sorcery. The permit of Rameses is what 
 I want, nothing more."' 
 
 ' ' You shall have it, " said the dwarf. ' ' Good-bye ; I am 
 charged to look into the tomb of our house, and see 
 whether the offerings for the dead are regularly set out ; 
 to pour out fresh essences and have various things re- 
 newed. WhenSechet has ceased to rage, and it is cooler, 
 I shall come by here again, for I should like to call on the 
 paraschites, and see how the poor child is. " 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 During this conversation two men had been busily 
 !Occupied, in front of the paraschites' hut, in driving piles 
 into the earth, and stretching a torn linen cloth upon them. 
 
 One of them, old Pinem, whom we have seen tending 
 his grandchild, requested the other from time to time to 
 consider the sick girl arid to work less noisily. 
 
 After they had finished their simple task, and spread a 
 20uch of fresh straw under the awning, they too sat down 
 on the earth, and looked at the hut before which the sur- 
 geon Nebsecht was sitting waiting till the sleeping girl 
 should wake. 
 
 "Who is that?" asked the leech of the old man, point- 
 ing to his young companion, a tall sunburnt soldier, with 
 a bushy red beard. 
 
 *'My son," replied the paraschites, **who is just re- 
 turned from Syria. " 
 
 * ' Uarda's father ? " asked Nebsecht. 
 
 The soldier nodded assent, and said with a rough voice, 
 but not without cordiality : 
 
 **No one could guess it by looking at us — she is so 
 white and rosy. Her mother was a foreigner, and she 
 has turned out as delicate as she was. I am afraid to 
 touch her with my little finger — and there comes a chariot 
 over the brittle doll, and does not quite crush her, for she 
 is still alive." 
 
 ''Without the help of this holy father," said the paras- 
 
UARDA. 
 
 149 
 
 chites, approaching the surgeon, and kissing his robe, 
 "you would never have seen her alive again. May the 
 gods reward thee for what thou hast done for us poor 
 folks \" 
 
 "And we can pay too," cried the soldier, slapping a 
 full purse that hung at his girdle. "We have taken 
 plunder in Syria, and I will buy a calf, and give it to thy 
 temple." 
 
 "Offer a beast of dough, rather," replied Nebsecht, 
 "and if you wish to show yourself grateful to me, give 
 the money to your father, so that he may feed and nurse 
 your child in accordance with my instructions." 
 
 " Hm," murmured the soldier ; he took the purse from 
 his girdle, flourished it in his hand, and said, as he handed 
 it to the paraschites : 
 
 "I should have liked to drink it ! but take it, father, 
 for the child and my mother." 
 
 While the old man hesitatingly put out his hand for the 
 rich gift, the soldier recollected himself and said, opening 
 the purse : 
 
 "Let me take out a few rings, for to-day I cannot go 
 dry. I have two or three comrades lodging in the Red 
 Tavern. That is right. There — take the rest of the 
 rubbish." 
 
 Nebsecht nodded approvingly at the soldier, and he, as 
 his father gratefully kissed the surgeon's hand, exclaimed : 
 
 "Make the little one sound, holy father ! It is all over 
 with gifts and offerings, for I have nothing left ; but there 
 ave two iron fists and a breast like the wall of a fortress. 
 If at any time thou dost want help, call me, and I will 
 protect thee against twenty enemies. Thou hast saved 
 my child — good. Life for life. I sign myself thy blood- 
 ally— there." 
 
 With these words he drew his poniard out of his girdle. 
 He scratched his arm, and let a few drops of his blood 
 run down on a stone at the feet of Nebsecht — "Look," 
 he said. "There is my bond, Kaschta has signed him- 
 self thine, and thou canst dispose of my Hfe as of thine 
 own. What I have said, I have said." 
 
 " I am a man of peace," Nebsecht stammered. "And 
 my white robe protects me. But I believe our patient is 
 awake. " 
 
Igo UARDA. 
 
 The physician rose, and entered the hut. 
 
 Uarda's pretty head lay on her grandmother's lap, and 
 her large blue eyes turned contentedly on the priest. 
 
 *' She might get up and go out in the air/' said the old 
 woman. " She has slept long and soundly." 
 
 The surgeon examined her pulse, and her wound, on 
 which green leaves were laid. 
 
 "Excellent," he said; '*who gave you this healing 
 herb?" ^ ' 
 
 The old woman shuddered, and hesitated ; but Uarda 
 said, fearlessly : **01d Hekt, who lives over there in the 
 black cave." 
 
 *'The witch 1 " muttered Nebsecht. "But we will let 
 the leaves remain ; it they do good it is no matter where 
 they came from." 
 
 "Hekt tasted the drops thou didst give her," said the 
 old woman, " and agreed that they were good." 
 
 "Then we are satisfied with each other," answered 
 Nebsecht, with a smile of amusement. "We will carry 
 you now into the open air, little maid ; for the air in here 
 is as heavy as lead, and your damaged lung requires lighter 
 nourishment." 
 
 "Yes, let me go out," said the girl. "It is well that 
 thou hast not brought back the other with thee, who tor« 
 men ted me with his vows." 
 
 "You mean blind Teta," said Nebsecht; "he will not 
 come again ; but the young priest who soothed your father, 
 when he repulsed the princess, will visit you. He is 
 kindly disposed, and you should — you should " 
 
 " Pentaur will come? " said the girl, eagerly. 
 
 " Before midday. But how do you know his name ? " 
 
 "I know him," said Uarda, decidedly. 
 
 The surgeon looked at her surprised. 
 
 * * You must not talk any more, " he said, " for your cheeks 
 are glowing, and the fever may return. We have arranged 
 a tent for you, and now we will carry you into the open 
 air." 
 
 " Not yet," said the girl. " Grandmother, do my hair 
 for me, it is so heavy." 
 
 With these words she endeavored to part her mass 
 of long, reddish-brown hair with her slender hands, and 
 
UARDA. 151 
 
 to free it from the straws that had become entangled 
 in it. 
 
 " Lie still," said the surgeon in a warning voice. 
 
 ** But it is so heavy," said the sick girl, smiling and 
 showing Nebsecht her abundant wealth of golden hair 
 as if it were a fatiguing burden. " Come, grandmother, 
 and help me." 
 
 The old woman leaned over the child, and combed her 
 long locks carefully with a coarse comb made of gray horn, 
 gently disengaged the straws from the golden tangle, 
 and at last laid two thick long plaits on her granddaugh- 
 ter's shoulders. 
 
 Nebsecht knew that every movement of the wounded 
 girl might do mischief, and his impulse was to stop the old 
 woman's proceedings, but his tongue seemed spell-bound. 
 Surprised, motionless, and with crimson cheeks, he stood 
 opposite the girl, and his eyes followed every movement of 
 her hands with anxious observation. 
 
 She did not notice him. 
 
 When the old woman laid down the comb Uarda drew a 
 long breath. 
 
 " Grandmother," she said, ** give me the mirror." 
 
 The old woman brought a shard of dimly glazed, baked 
 clay. The girl turned to the light, contemplated the un- 
 defined reflection for a moment, and said : 
 
 ** I have not seen a flower for so long, grandmother." 
 
 "Wait, child," she replied; she took from a jug the rose 
 which the princess had laid on the bosom of her grand- 
 child, and offered it to her. Before Uarda could take it, 
 the withered petals fell, and dropped upon her. The sur- 
 geon stooped, gathered them up, and put them into the 
 child's hand. 
 
 ** How good you are I " she said ; ** I am called Uarda 
 — like this flower — and I love roses and the fresh air. 
 Will you carry me out now ? " 
 
 Nebsecht called the paraschites, who came into the hut 
 with his son, and they carried the girl out into the air and 
 laid her under the humble tent they had contrived for her. 
 The soldier's knees trembled while he held the light bur- 
 den of his daughter's weight in his strong hands, and 
 he sighed when he laid her carefully down on the mat. 
 
 •'How blue the sky is 1 " cried Uarda. ** Ah 1 grand* 
 
152 UARDA. 
 
 father has watered my pomegranate ; I thought so I and 
 there come my doves ! Give me some corn in my hand, 
 grandmother. How pleased they are. " 
 
 The graceful birds, with black rings round their reddish- 
 gray necks, flew confidingly to her, and took the corn that 
 she playfully laid between her lips. 
 
 Nebsecht looked on with astonishment at this pretty 
 play. He felt as if anew world had opened to him, and 
 some new sense, hitherto unknown to him, had been re- 
 vealed to him within his breast. He silently sat down in 
 front of the hut, and drew the picture of a rose on the 
 sand with a reed-stem that he picked up. 
 
 Perfect stillness was around him ; the doves even had 
 flown up, and settled on the roof Presently the dog 
 barked, steps approached ; Uarda lifted herself up and 
 said : 
 
 " Grandmother, it is the priest Pentaur." 
 
 " Who told you? " asked the old woman. 
 
 *'I know it," answered the girl, decidedly; and in a 
 few moments a sonorous voice cried ; *' Good-day to you. 
 How is your invalid ? " 
 
 Pentaur was soon standing by Uarda ; pleased to hear 
 Nebsecht's good report, and with the sweet face of the 
 girl. He had some flowers in his hand, that a happy 
 maiden had laid on the altar of the Goddess Hathor, which 
 he had served since the previous day, and he gave them 
 to the sick girl, who took them with a blush, and held 
 them between her clasped hands. 
 
 "The great goddess whom I serve sends you these," 
 said Pentaur, "and they will bring you healing. Con- 
 tinue to resemble them. You are pure and fair like them, 
 and your course henceforth may be like theirs. As the 
 sun gives life to the gray horizon, so you bring joy to this 
 dark hut. Preserve your innocence, and wherever you 
 go you will bring love, as flowers spring in every spot 
 that is trodden by the golden foot of Hathor. * May her 
 blessing rest upon you ! " 
 
 He had spoken the last words half to the old couple and 
 half to Uarda, and was already turning to depart when, 
 behind a heap of maize straw that lay close to the awning 
 
 * Hathor is frequently called "the golden," particularly at Dendera. 
 She has much in common with the "golden Aphrodite." 
 
UARDA. 
 
 »53 
 
 over the girl, the bitter cry of a child was heard, and a 
 little boy came forward who held, as high as he could 
 reach, a little cake, of which the dog, who seemed to know 
 him well, had snatched half. 
 
 " How do you come here, Scherau?" the paraschites 
 asked the weeping boy — the unfortunate child that Hekt 
 was bringing up as a dwarf. 
 
 " I wanted," sobbed the little one, ** to bring the cake 
 to Uarda. She is ill — I had so much " 
 
 *' Poor child," said the paraschites, stroking the boy's 
 hair ; ** there — give it to Uarda." 
 
 Scherau went up to the sick girl, knelt down by her, 
 and whispered, with streaming eyes : 
 
 "Take it I It is good, and very sweet, and if I get 
 another cake, and Hekt will let me out, I will bring it to 
 you." 
 
 ** Thank you, good little Scherau, " said Uarda, kissing 
 the child. Then she turned to Pentaur and said : 
 
 ** For weeks he has had nothing but papyrus pith and 
 lotus-bread,* and now he brings me the cake which grand- 
 mother gave old Hekt yesterday/* 
 
 The child blushed all over, and stammered : 
 
 ** It is only half — but I did not touch it. Your dog bit 
 out this piece, and this." 
 
 He touched the honey with the tip of his finger, and put 
 it to his lips. ** I was a long time behind the straw there 
 for I did not like to come out because of the strangers 
 there." He pointed to Nebsecht and Pentaur. ** But now 
 I must go home," he cried. 
 
 The child was going, but Pentaur stopped him, seized 
 him, lifted him up in his arms and kissed him ; saying, as 
 he turned to Nebsecht : 
 
 "They were wise, who represented Horus — the symbol 
 
   According to Herodotus ii., 92, Diodorus i., 80, Pliny xiii., 10, the 
 Egyptians eat the lower part of the stem of the papyrus, at any rate the 
 pith of it; by preference when it had been dried in the oven. Plerodotus 
 also tells us that " they pound the seeds of the lotus, which resembles a 
 poppy, and make bread of it." As we see from the monuments that 
 enormous quantities of lotus plants grew on the banks of the Nile, the 
 statement of Diodorus that a child, till it was grown up, cost its parents 
 no more than twenty drachmae — about fifteen shillings — is quite crediP 
 ijfile. It is extraordinary that in spite of the great utiUty of these plants^ 
 ps^rticularly of the papyrus, neither of them now occurs in Egypt. 
 
154 UARDA. 
 
 of the triumph of good over evil andof purity over the im- 
 pure — in the form of a child. Bless you, my little friend ; 
 be good, and always give away what you have to make 
 others happy. It will not make your house rich — but it 
 will your heart ! " 
 
 Scherau clung to the priest, and involuntarily raised his 
 little hand to stroke Pentaur's cheek. An unknown ten- 
 derness had filled his little heart, and he felt as if he must 
 throw his arms round the poet's neck and cry upon his 
 breast. 
 
 But Pentaur set him down upon the ground, and he 
 trotted down into the valley. There he paused. The sun 
 was high in the heavens, and he must return to the witch's 
 cave and his board, but he would so much like to go a little 
 further — only as far as to the king's tomb, which was quite 
 near. 
 
 Close by the door of this tomb was a thatch of palm- 
 branches, and under this the sculptor Batau, a very aged 
 man, was accustomed to rest. The old man was deaf, 
 but he passed for the best artist of his time, and with 
 justice ; he had designed the beautiful pictures and hiero- 
 glyphic inscriptions in Seti's splendid buildings at Adydos 
 and Thebes, as well as in the tomb of that prince, and he 
 was now working at the decoration of the walls in the 
 grave of Rameses. 
 
 Scherau had often crept close up to him, and thought- 
 fully watched him at work, and then tried himself to make 
 animal and human figures out of a bit of clay. 
 
 One day the old man had observed him. 
 
 The sculptor had silently taken his humble attempt out 
 of his hand, and had returned it to him with a smile of 
 encouragement. 
 
 From that time a peculiar tie had sprung up between 
 the two. Scherau would venture to sit down by the sculp- 
 tor, and try to imitate his finished images. Not a word 
 was exchanged between them, but often the deaf old man 
 would destroy the boy's works, often on the contrary im- 
 prove them with a touch of his own hand, and not seldom 
 nod at him to encourage him. 
 
 When he stayed away the old man missed his pupil, and 
 Scherau's happiest hours were those which he passed at 
 his sidQ, 
 
UARDA. 155 
 
 He was not forbidden to take some clay home with him. 
 There, when the old woman's back was turned, he 
 molded a variety of images, which he destroyed as soon 
 as they were finished. 
 
 While he lay on his rack his hands were left free, and 
 he tried to reproduce the various forms which lived in his 
 imagination ; he forgot the present in his artistic attempts, 
 and his bitter lot acquired a flavor of the sweetest enjoy- 
 ment. 
 
 But to-day it was too late ; he must give up his visit to 
 the tomb of Rameses. 
 
 Once more he looked back at the hut, and then hurried 
 into the dark cave. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Pentaur also soon quitted the hut of the paraschltes. 
 
 Lost in meditation, he went along the hill-path which 
 led to the temple * which Ameni had put under his direc- 
 tion. 
 
 He foresaw many disturbed and anxious hours in the 
 immediate future. 
 
 The sanctuary of which he was the superior, had been 
 dedicated to her own memory, and to the Goddess Hathor, 
 by Hatasu, j* a great queen of the dethroned dynasty. 
 
 The priests who served it were endowed with peculiar 
 chartered privileges, which hitherto had been strictly re- 
 spected. Their dignity was hereditary, going down from 
 father to son, and they had the right of choosing their 
 director from among themselves. 
 
 Now their chief priest Rui was ill and dying, and Ameni, 
 
 * This temple is well proportioned, and remains in good preservation. 
 Copies of the interesting pictures discovered in it are to he found in the 
 "Fleet of an Egyptian queen" by Dumiclien. Other details may be 
 found in Lepsius' Monuments of Egypt. 
 
 t The daughter of Thotmes I, wife of her brother Thotmes II, and 
 predecessor of her second brother Thotmes III. An energetic woman 
 who executed great works, and caused herself to be represented with thi 
 beUnet and bes^rd-case of ^ man. 
 
256 UARDA. 
 
 under whose jurisdiction they came, had, without consult- 
 ing them, sent the young poet Pentaur to fill his place. 
 
 riiey had received the intruder most unwillingly, and 
 combined strongly against him when it became evident 
 that he was disposed to establish a severe rule and to 
 abolish many abuses which had become established 
 customs. 
 
 They had devolved the greetuig of the rising sun on the 
 temple-servants ; Pentaur required that the younger one, 
 at least, should take part in chanting the morning hymn, 
 and himself led the choir. They had trafficked with the 
 offerings laid on the altar of the goddess ; the new master 
 repressed this abuse, as well as the extortions of which 
 they were guilty toward women in sorrow, who visited 
 the temple of Hathor in greater number than any other 
 sanctuary. 
 
 The poet — brought up in the temple of Seti to self-con- 
 trol, order, exactitude, and decent customs, deeply pene- 
 trated with a sense of the dignity of his position, and ac- 
 customed to struggle with special zeal against indolence 
 of body and spirit — was disgusted with the slothful life 
 and fraudulent dealings of his subordinates : and the deeper 
 insight which yesterday's experience had given him into 
 the poverty and sorrow of human existence, made him re- 
 solve with increased warmth that he would awake them 
 to a new life. 
 
 The conviction that the lazy herd whom he commanded 
 was called upon to pour consolation into a thousand sor- 
 rowing hearts, to dry innumerable tears, and to clothe the 
 dry sticks of despair with the fresh verdure of hope, urged 
 him to strong measures. 
 
 Yesterday he had seen how, with calm indifference, they 
 had listened to the deserted wife, the betrayed maiden, to 
 the woman, who implored the withheld blessing of chil- 
 dren, to the anxious mother, the forlorn widow — andsought 
 only to take advantage of sorrow, to extort gifts for the 
 goddess, or better still for their own pockets or belly. 
 
 Now he was nearing the scene of his new labors. 
 
 There stood the reverend building, rising stately from 
 the valley on four terraces handsomely and singularly 
 divided, and resting on the western side against the high 
 amphitheater of yeljow cliffy. 
 
UARDA. '157 
 
 On the closely joined foundation stones gigantic hawks 
 were carved in relief, each with the emblem of life, and 
 symbolized Horus, the son of the goddess, who brings all 
 that fades to fresh bloom, and all that dies to resurrec- 
 tion. 
 
 On each terrace stood a hall open to the east, and sup- 
 ported on two and twenty archaic* pillars. On their inner 
 walls elegant pictures, and inscriptions in the finest sculp- 
 tured work recorded, for the benefit of posterity, the great 
 things that Hatasu had done with the help of the gods 
 of Thebes. 
 
 There were the ships which she had to send to Punt,f 
 to enrich Egypt with the treasures of the east ; there the 
 wonders brought to Thebes from Arabia might be seen ; 
 there were delineated the houses| of the inhabitants of the 
 land of frankincense, and all the fishes of the Red Sea, in 
 distinct and characteristic outline. § 
 
 On the third and fourth terraces were the small adjoin- 
 ing rooms of Hatasu and her brothers Thotmes II. and III., 
 which were built against the rock, and entered by granite 
 doorways. In them purifications were accomplished, the 
 images of the goddess worshiped, and the more distin- 
 guished worshipers admitted to confess. The sacred cows 
 of the goddess were kept in a side-building. 
 
 As Pentaur approached the great gate of the terrace- 
 temple, he became the witness of a scene which filled him 
 with resentment. 
 
 A woman implored to be admitted into the forecourt, to 
 pray at the altar of the goddess for her husband, who was 
 very ill, but the sleek gate-keeper drove her back with 
 rough words. 
 
 " It is written up," said he, pointing to the inscription 
 
 * Polygonal pillars, which were used first in tomb-building under the 
 twelfth dynasty, and after the expulsion of the Hyksos under the kings of 
 the seventeenth and eighteenth, in public buildings ; but under the sub- 
 sequent races of kings th6y ceased to be employed. 
 
 t Arabia : apparently also the coast of east Africa, south of Egypt a.«i 
 far as Somali. The latest of the lists published by Mariette, of the south- 
 ern nations conquered by Thotmes III, mentions it. This list was fouaH 
 on the pylon of the temple of Karnak. 
 
 J They stood on piles and were entered by ladders. 
 
 § The species are in many cases distinguishable — Dr. Doni'.z hat 
 named several. 
 
158 UARDA. 
 
 over the gate, '' only the purified may set their foot across 
 this threshold, and you cannot be purified but by the 
 smoke of incense." 
 
 " Then swing the censer for me," said the woman, ** and 
 take this silver ring — it is all I have. " 
 
 **A silver ring ! " cried the porter, indignantly. ** Shall 
 the goddess be impoverished for your sake ! The grains 
 of Anta,* that would be used in purifying you, would cost 
 ten times as much." 
 
 "But I have no more," replied the woman, "my hus- 
 band, for whom I come to pray, is ill ; he cannot work, 
 and my children " 
 
 "You fatten them up and deprive the goddess of her 
 due," cried the gate-keeper. "Three rings down, or I 
 shut the gate. " 
 
 * * Be merciful, " said the woman, weeping. * * What will 
 become of us if Hathor does not help my husband ? " 
 
 " Will our goddess fetch the doctor ? " asked the porter. 
 " She has something to do beside curing sick starvelings. 
 Beside, that is not her office. Go to Imhotep,f or to 
 Chunsu, the counsellor, J or to the great Techuti herself, 
 who helps the sick. There is no quack-medicine to be got 
 here." 
 
 " I only want comfort in my trouble," said the woman. 
 
 "Comfort!" laughed the gate-keeper, measuring the 
 comely young woman with his eye. "That you may 
 have cheaper." 
 
 The woman turned pale, and drew back from the hand 
 the man stretched out toward her. 
 
 At this moment, Pentaur, full of wrath, stepped between 
 them. 
 
 * An incense frequently mentioned. 
 
 t The son of Ptah, named Asklepois by the Greeks. Memphis was 
 the chief city of his worship ; he is usually represented with a cap on, and 
 a book on his knee. There are fine statues of him at Berlin, the Louvre, 
 and other museums. A bronze of great beauty is in the possession of 
 Pastor Haken at Riga. 
 
 J-The third of the Triad of Thebes ; he is identical with Toth, and 
 frequently addressed as of good counsel for the healing of the sick. His 
 great Temple in Thebes (Kamak) is well preserved. In the time of the 
 twentieth dynasty B. C. 1273 to 1095, ^^^ statue (according to a passage 
 interpreted by E. de Ronge) was sent into Asia to cure the sister of 
 the wife of Rameses XII., an Asiatic princess, who was possessed by 
 devils. 
 
UARDA. 159 
 
 He raised his hand in blessing over the woman, who 
 bent low before him, and said, " Whoever calls fervently 
 on the Divinity is near to him. You are pure. Enter. " 
 
 As soon as she had disappeared within the temple, the 
 priest turned to the gate-keeper and exclaimed : 
 
 ''Is this how you serve the goddess ; is this how you 
 take advantage of a heart-wrung woman ? Give me the 
 keys of this gate. Your office is taken from you, and 
 early to-morrow you go out in the fields, and keep the 
 geese of Hathor." 
 
 The porter threw himself on his knees with loud out- 
 cries ; but Pentaur turned his back on him, entered the 
 sanctuary, and mounted the steps which led to his dwell- 
 ing on the third terrace. 
 
 A few priests whom he passed turned their backs upon 
 him, others looked down at their dinners, eating noisily, 
 and making as if they did not see him. They had com- 
 bined strongly, and were determined to expel the incon- 
 venient intruder at any price. 
 
 Having reached his room, which had been splendidly 
 decorated for his predecessor, Pentaur laid aside his new 
 insignia, comparing sorrowfully the past and the present. 
 
 To what an exchange Ameni had condemned him ! 
 
 Here, wherever he looked, he met with sulkiness and 
 aversion ; while, when he walked through the courts of the 
 House of Seti, a hundred boys would hurry toward him, 
 and cling affectionately to his robe. Honored there by 
 great and small, his every word had had its value ; and 
 when each day he gave utterance to his thoughts, what he 
 bestowed came back to him refined by earnest discourse 
 with his associates and superiors, and he gained new treas- 
 ures for his inner life. 
 
 "What is rare," thought he, '' is full of charm ; and yet 
 how hard it is to do without what is habitual ! " 
 
 The occurrences of the last few days passed before his 
 mental sight. Bent-Anat's image appeared before him, 
 and took a more and more distinct and captivating form. 
 His heart began to beat wildly, the blood rushed faster 
 through his veins ; he hid his face in his hands, and re- 
 called every glance, every word from her lips. 
 
 *'I follow thee willingly," she had said to him before 
 the hut of the paraschites. Now he asked himself whether 
 he were worthy of such a follower. 
 
£6o UARDA. 
 
 He had indeed broken through the old bonds, but not 
 to disgrace the house that was dear to him, only to let new 
 light into its dim chambers. 
 
 '*To do what we have earnestly felt to be right," said 
 he to himself, "may seem worthy of punishment to men, 
 but cannot before God/' 
 
 He sighed and walked out into the terrace in a mood of 
 lofty excitement, and fully resolved to do here nothing 
 but what was right, to lay the foundation of all that was 
 good. 
 
 * ' We men, " thought he, * ' prepare sorrow when we come 
 into the world, and lamentation when we leave it ; and 
 so it is our duty in the intermediate time to fight with suf- 
 fering, and to sow the seeds of joy. There are many tears 
 here to be wiped away. To work then ! " 
 
 The poet found none of his subordinates on the upper 
 terrace. They had all met in the forecourt of the temple, 
 and were listening to the gate-keeper's tale, and seemed 
 to sympathize with his angry complaint — against whom 
 Pentaur well knew. 
 
 With a firm step he went toward them and said : 
 
 "I have expelled this man from among us, for he is a 
 iisgrace to us. To-morrow he quits the temple." 
 
 The gate-keeper looked inquiringly at the priests. 
 
 Not one moved. 
 
 "Go back into your house," said Pentaur, going closer 
 £0 him. 
 
 The porter obeyed. 
 
 Pentaur locked the door of the little room, gave the key 
 to one of the temple servants, and said: "Perform your 
 duty, watch the man, and if he escapes you will go after 
 the geese to-morrow too. See, my friends, how many 
 worshipers kneel there before our altars — go and fulfill 
 your office. I will wait in the confessional to receive 
 complaints, and to administer comfort." 
 
 The priests separated and went to the votaries. Pentaur 
 once more mounted the steps, and sat down in the narrow 
 confessional which was closed by a curtain ; on its wall 
 the picture of Hatasu was to be seen, drawing the milk of 
 eternal life from the udders of the cow Hathor.* 
 
 He had hardly taken his place when a temple servant an- 
 * A remarkably life-like figure in relief, in perfect preservation. 
 
UARDA. "^ l6l 
 
 fiounced the arrival of a veiled lady. The bearers of her 
 litter were thickly veiled, and she had requested to be con- 
 ducted to the confession chamber. The servant handed 
 Pentaur a token by which the high-priest of the great 
 temple of Amon, on the other bank of the Nile, granted 
 her the privilege of entering the inner rooms of the temple 
 with the Rechiu,* and to communicate with all priests, 
 even with the highest of the initiated. 
 
 The poet withdrew behind a curtain, and awaited the 
 stranger with a disquiet that seemed to him all the more 
 singular that he had frequently found himself in a similar 
 position. Even the noblest dignitaries had often been 
 transferred to him by Ameni when they had come to the 
 temple to have their visions interpreted. 
 
 A tall female figure entered the still, sultry stone room, 
 sank on her knees, and put up a long and absorbed prayer 
 before the figure of Hathor. Pentaur also, seen by no 
 one, lifted his hands, and fervently addressed himself to 
 the omnipresent spirit with a prayer for strength and 
 purity. 
 
 Just as his arms fell the lady raised her head. It was as 
 though the prayers of the two souls had united to mount 
 upward together. 
 
 The veiled lady rose and dropped her veil. 
 
 It was Bent-Anat. 
 
 In the agitation of her soul she had sought the Goddess 
 Hathor, who guides the beating heart of woman and spins 
 the threads which bind man and wife. 
 
 ** High mistress of heaven ! many-named and beautiful ! " 
 she began to pray aloud, "golden Hathor ! who knowest 
 grief and ecstasy — the present and the future — draw near 
 to thy child,, and guide the spirit of thy servant, that he 
 may advise me well. I am the daughter of a father who is 
 great and noble and truthful as one of the gods. He ad- 
 vises me — he will never compel me — to yield to a man 
 whom I can never love. Nay, another has met me, humble 
 in birth but noble in spirit and in gifts " 
 
 Thus far, Pentaur, incapable of speech, had overheard 
 the princess. 
 
 Ought he to remain concealed and hear all her secret, or 
 
 * Egyptians wHo were admitted to the innermost chambers and th« 
 highest grades of learning. 
 II 
 
l62 UARDA. 
 
 should he step forth and show himself to her ? His pride 
 called loudly to him : **Now she will speak your name : 
 you are the chosen one of the fairest and noblest. " But 
 another voice to which he had accustomed himself to listen 
 in severe self-discipline made itself heard, and said — " Let 
 her say nothing- in ignorance, that she need be ashamed of 
 if she knew." 
 
 He blushed for her — he opened the curtain and went 
 forward into the presence of Bent-Anat. 
 
 The princess drew back startled. 
 
 ''Art thou Pentaur," she asked, ''or one of the Immor- 
 tals?" 
 
 "I am Pentaur," he answered, firmly, *' a man with all 
 the weakness of his race, but with a desire for what is 
 good. Linger here and pour out thy soul to our goddess ; 
 my whole life shall be a prayer for thee." 
 
 The poet looked full at her ; then he turned quickly, 
 as if to avoid a danger, toward the door of the con- 
 fessional. 
 
 Bent-Anat called his name, and he stayed his steps. 
 
 *' The daughter of Rameses," she said, "need offer no 
 justification of her appearance here, but the maiden Bent- 
 Anat," and she colored as she spoke, "expected to find, 
 not thee, but the old priest Rui, and she desired his advice. 
 Now leave me to pray." 
 
 Bent-Anat sank on her knees, and Pentaur went out 
 into the open air. 
 
 When the princess too had left the confessional, loud 
 voices were heard on the south side of the terrace on which 
 they stood. 
 
 She hastened toward the parapet. 
 
 " Hail to Pentaur ! " was shouted up from below. 
 
 The poet rushed forward, and placed himself near the 
 princess. Both looked down into the valley, and could be 
 seen by all. 
 
 " Hail, hail ! Pentaur," was called doubly loud. " Hail 
 to our teacher ! come back to the Plouse of Seti. Down 
 with the persecutors of Pentaur — down with our op- 
 pressors ! " 
 
 At the head of the youths, who, so soon as they had 
 found out whither the poet had been exiled, had escaped 
 to tell him that they were faithful to him, stood the Prince 
 
UARDA. 163 
 
 Ramefi, who nodded triumphantly to his sister, and Anana 
 stepped forward to inform the honored teacher, in a solemn 
 and well-studied speech, that, in the event of Ameni 
 refusing to recall him, they had decided requesting their 
 fathers to place them at another school. 
 
 The young sage spoke well, and Bent-Anat followed his 
 words, not without approbation ; but Pentaur's face grew 
 "darker, and before his favorite disciple had ended his 
 speech he interrupted him sternly. 
 
 His voice was at first reproachful, and then complaining, 
 and, loud as he spoke, only sorrow rang in his tones, and 
 not anger. 
 
 "In truth," he concluded, ''every word that I have 
 spoken to you I could but find it in me to regret, if it has 
 contributed to encourage you to this mad act. You were 
 born in palaces ; learn to obey, that later you may know 
 how to command. Back to your school ! You hesitate ? 
 Then I will come out against you with the watchman, and 
 drive you back, for you do me and yourselves small honor 
 by such a proof of affection. Go back to the school yoii 
 belong to." 
 
 The school-boys dared make no answer, but surprised 
 and disenchanted turned to go home. 
 
 Bent-Anat cast down her eyes as she met those of her 
 brother, who shrugged his shoulders, and then she looked 
 half shyly, half respectfully, at the poet ; but soon again 
 her eyes turned to the plain below, for thick dust-clouds 
 whirled across it, the sound of hoofs and the rattle of 
 wheels became audible, and at the same moment the 
 chariot of Septah, the chief haruspex, and a vehicle with 
 the heavily-armed guard of the House of Seti, stopped near 
 the terrace. 
 
 The angry old man sprang quickly to the ground, called 
 the host of escaped pupils to him in a stern voice, ordered 
 the guard to drive them back to the school, and hurried 
 up to the temple gates like a vigorous youth. The priests 
 received him with the deepest reverence, and at once laid 
 their complaints before him. 
 
 He heard them willingly, but did not let them discuss 
 the matter ; then, though with some difficulty, he quickly 
 mounted the steps, down which Bent-Anat came toward 
 him. 
 
104 UARDA. 
 
 The princess felt that she would divert all the blame 
 and misunderstanding- to herself, if Septah recognized 
 her; her hand involuntarily reached for her veil, but she 
 drew it back quickly, looked with quiet dignity into the 
 old man's eyes, which flashed with anger, and proudly 
 passed by him. The haruspex bowed, but without giving 
 her his blessing, and when he met Pentaur on the second 
 terrace, ordered that the temple should be cleared of 
 worshipers. 
 
 This was done in a few minutes, and the priests were 
 witnesses of the most painful scene which had occurred for 
 years in their quiet sanctuary. 
 
 The head of the haruspices of the House of Seti was the 
 most determined adversary of the poet who had so early 
 been initiated into the mysteries, and whose keen intel- 
 lect often shook those very ramparts which the zealous 
 old man had, from conviction, labored to strengthen from 
 his youth up. The vexatious occurrences, of which he 
 had been a witness at the House of Seti, and here also but 
 a few minutes since, he regarded as the consequence ol 
 the unbridled license of an ill-regulated imagination, and 
 in stern language he called Pentaur to account for the 
 " revolt " of the school-boys. 
 
 ** And besides our boys," he exclaimed, ** you have led 
 the daughter of Rameses astray. She was not yet purged 
 of her uncleanness, and yet you tempt her to an assigna- 
 tion, not even in the strangers' quarters — but in the holy 
 house of this pure Divinity. " 
 
 Undeserved praise is dangerous to the weak ; unjus\ 
 blame may turn even the strong from the right way. 
 
 Pentaur indignantly repelled the accusations of the old 
 man, called them unworthy of his age, his position, and 
 his name, and for fear that his anger might carry him too 
 far, turned his back upon him ; but the haruspex ordered 
 him to remain, and in his presence questioned the priests, 
 who unanimously accused the poet of having admitted to 
 the temple another unpurified woman besides Bent-Anat, 
 and of having expelled the gate-keeper and thrown him 
 into prison for opposing the crime. 
 
 The haruspex ordered that the "ill-used man "should be 
 set at liberty. 
 
 Pentaur resisted this command, asserted his right to 
 
UARDA. 165 
 
 gfovem in this temple, and with a trembling voice requested 
 Septah to quit the place. 
 
 The haruspex showed him Ameni's ring, by which, dur- 
 ing his residence in Thebes, he made him his plenipoten- 
 tiary, degraded Pentaur from his dignity, but ordered him 
 not to quit the sanctuary till further notice, and then finally 
 departed from the temple of Hatasu. 
 
 Pentaur had yielded in silence to the signet of his chief, 
 and returned to the confessional in which he had met 
 Bent-Anat. He felt his soul shaken to its very foundations, 
 his thoughts were confused, his feelings struggling with 
 each other ; he shivered, and when he heard the laugh- 
 ter of the priests and the gate-keeper, who were triumph- 
 ing in their easy victory, he started and shuddered like a 
 man who in passing a mirror should see a brand of disgrace 
 on his brow. 
 
 But by degrees he recovered himself, his spirit grew 
 clearer, and when he left the little room to look toward the 
 east — where, on the further shore, rose the palace where 
 Bent-Anat must be — a deep contempt for his enecnies 
 filled his soul, and a proud feeling of renewed manly 
 energy. He did not conceal from himself that he had 
 enemies ; that a time of struggle was beginning for him ; 
 but he looked forward to it like a young hero to the morn- 
 ing of his first battle. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The afternoon shadows were already growing long, 
 when a splendid chariot drew up to the gates of the 
 terrace-temple. Paaker, the chief pioneer, stood up in it, 
 driving his handsome and fiery Syrian horses. Behind 
 him stood an Ethiopian slave, and his big dog followed the 
 swift team with his tongue out. 
 
 As he approached the temple he heard himself called, 
 and checked the pace of his horses. A tiny man hurried 
 up to him, and, as soon as he had recognized in him the 
 dwarf Nemu, he cried, angrily : 
 
 "Is it for you, you rascal, that I stopped my drive? 
 What do you want ? " 
 
l66 UARDA. 
 
 "To crave," said the little man, bowing humbly, *' that, 
 when thy business in the City of the Dead is finished, thou 
 wilt carry me back to Thebes." 
 
 ** You are Mena's dwarf?" asked the pioneer. 
 
 **By no means," replied Nemu. *'I belong to his 
 neglected wife, the lady Nefert. I can only cover the 
 road very slowly with my little legs, while the hoofs of 
 your horses devour the way — as a crocodile does his 
 prey." 
 
 "Get up!" said Paaker. "Did you come here on 
 foot?" 
 
 "No, my lord, "replied Nemu, "on an ass ; but a demon 
 entered into the beast, and has struck it with sickness. I 
 had to leave it on the road. The beasts of Anubis will 
 have a better supper than we to-night." 
 
 " Things are not done handsomely then at your mistress' 
 house ? " asked Paaker. 
 
 " We still have bread," replied Nemu, " and the Nile is 
 full of water. Much meat is not necessary for women and 
 dwarfs, but our last cattle take a form which is too hard 
 for human teeth," 
 
 The pioneer did not understand the joke, and looked 
 inquiringly at the dwarf, 
 
 "The form of money," said the little man, "and that 
 cannot be chewed ; soon that will be gone too, and then 
 the point will be to find a recipe for making nutritious 
 cakes out of earth, water and palm-leaves. It makes very 
 little difference to me, a dwarf does not need much — but 
 the poor tender lady ! " 
 
 Paaker touched his horses with such a violent stroke of 
 his whip that they reared high, and it took all his strength 
 to control their spirit. 
 
 "The horses' jaws will be broken," muttered the slave 
 behind. " What a shame with such fine beasts ! " 
 
 " Flave you to pay for them ? " growled Paaker. Ther 
 he turned again to the dwarf, and asked : 
 
 "Why does Mena let the ladies want ? " 
 
 " He no longer cares for his wife," replied the dwarf, 
 casting his eyes down sadly. "At the last division of the 
 spoil he passed by the gold and silver, and took a foreign 
 woman into his tent. Evil demons have blinded him, for 
 where is there a woman fairer than Nefert ? " 
 
UARDA. 167 
 
 ** You love your mistress ? " 
 
 "As my very eyes." 
 
 During this conversation they had arrived at the terrace- 
 temple. Paaker threw the reins to the slave, ordered 
 him to wait with Nemu, and turned to the gate-keeper 
 to explain to him, with the help of a handful of gold, his 
 desire of being conducted to Pentaur, the chief of the 
 temple. 
 
 The gate-keeper, swinging a censer before him with a 
 hasty action, admitted him into the sanctuary. 
 
 " You will find him on the third terrace," he said, "but 
 he is no longer our superior. " 
 
 " They said so in the temple of Seti, whence I have just 
 come," replied Paaker. 
 
 The porter shrugged his shoulders with a sneer, and 
 said : ' * The palm-tree that is quickly set up falls down 
 more quickly still." Then he desired a servant to conduct 
 the stranger to Pentaur. 
 
 The poet recognized the Mohar at once, asked his will, 
 and learned that he was come to have a wonderful vision 
 interpreted by him. 
 
 Paaker explained before relating his dream, that he did 
 not ask this service for nothing ; and when the priest's 
 countenance darkened, he added : 
 
 "I will send a fine beast for sacrifice to the goddess if 
 the interpretation is favorable." 
 
 "And in the opposite case ? " asked Pentaur, who, in the 
 House of Seti, never would have anything whatever to do 
 with the payments of the worshipers or the offerings of the 
 devout. 
 
 "I will offer a sheep," replied Paaker, who did not per- 
 ceive the subtle irony that lurked in Pentaur's words, and 
 who was accustomed to pay for the gifts of the Divinity in 
 proportion to their value to himself. 
 
 Pentaur thought of the verdict which Gagabu, only 
 two evenings since, had passed on the Mohar, and it 
 occurred to him that he would test how far the man's 
 superstition would lead him. So he asked while he sup- 
 pressed a smile: 
 
 "And if I can foretell nothing bad, but also nothing 
 actually good " 
 
1 68 UARDA. 
 
 "An antelope, and four geese,'* answered Paaker, 
 promptly. 
 
 ''But if I were altogether disinclined to put myself at 
 your service ? " asked Pcntaur. " If I thought it unworthy 
 of a priest to let the gods be paid in proportion to their 
 favors toward a particular person, like corrupt officials ; if 
 I now showed you — you — and I have known you from a 
 school-boy, that there are things that cannot be bought 
 with inherited wealth ? " 
 
 The pioneer drew back, astonished and angry, but Pen- 
 taur continued calmly : 
 
 "I stand here as the minister of the Divinity; and 
 nevertheless, I see by your countenance that you were 
 on the point of lowering yourself by showing to me your 
 violent and extortionate spirit. 
 
 ''The immortals send us dreams, not to give us a fore- 
 taste of joy or caution us against danger, but to remind 
 us so to prepare our souls that we may submit quietly to 
 suffer evil, and with heartfelt gratitude accept the good, 
 and so gain from each profit for the inner life. I will not 
 interpret your dream ! Come without gifts, but with a 
 humble heart, and with longing for inward purification, 
 and I will pray to the gods that they may enlighten me, 
 and give you such interpretation of even evil dreams that 
 they may be fruitful in blessing. 
 
 " Leave me and quit the temple ! " 
 
 Paaker ground his teeth with rage ; but he controlled 
 himself, and only said as he slowly withdrew : 
 
 " If your office had not already been taken from you, 
 the insolence with which you have dismissed me might 
 have cost you your place. We shall meet again, and then 
 you shall learn that inherited wealth in the right hand is 
 worth more than you will like." 
 
 "Another enemy !" thought the poet, when he found 
 himself alone and stood erect in the glad consciousness of 
 having done right. 
 
 During Paaker's interview with the poet, the dwarf Nemu 
 had chattered to the porter, and had learned from him all 
 that had previously occurred. 
 
 Paaker mounted his chariot pale with rage, and whipped 
 on his horses before the dwarf had clambered up the step ; 
 
UARDA. 169 
 
 but the slave seized the little man, and set him carefully 
 on his feet behind his master. 
 
 '* The villain, the scoundrel ! he shall repent it — Pentaur 
 is he called ! the hound ! " muttered the pioneer to him- 
 self 
 
 The dwarf lost none of his words, and when he caught 
 the name of Pentaur he called to the pioneer, and 
 said : 
 
 '' They have appointed a scoundrel to be the superior of 
 this temple ; his name is Pentaur. He was expelled from 
 the temple of Seti for his immorality, and now he has 
 stirred up the younger scholars to rebellion, and invited 
 unclean women into the temple. My lips hardly dare re- 
 peat it, but the gate-keeper swore it was true — ihat the 
 chief haruspex from the House of Seti found him in con- 
 ference with Bent-Anat, the king's daughter, and at once 
 deprived him of his office." 
 
 '' With Bent-Anat ? " replied the pioneer, and muttered, 
 before the dwarf could find time to answer, ''Indeed, with 
 Bent-Anat !" and he recalled the day before yesterday, when 
 the princess had remained so long with the priest in the 
 hovel of the paraschites, while he had talked to Nefert and 
 visited the old witch. 
 
 ''I should not care to be in the priest's skin," observed 
 Nemu, " for though Rameses is far away, the Regent Ani 
 is near enough. He is a gentleman who seldom pounces, 
 but who will not let the doves be seized out of his own 
 nest." 
 
 Paaker looked inquiringly at Nemu. 
 
 ** I know," said the dwarf, '' Ani has asked Rameses* 
 consent to marry his daughter. 
 
 *' He has already asked it," continued the dwarf as 
 Paaker smiled incredulously, " and the king is not disin- 
 clined to give it. He likes making marriages — as thou 
 must know pretty well." 
 
 "I?" said Paaker, surprised. 
 
 " He forced Katuti to give her daughter as wife to the 
 charioteer. That I know from herself She can prove it 
 to thee." 
 
 Paaker shook his head in denial, but the dwarf continued 
 eagerly, "Yes, yes ! Katuti would have had thee for her 
 son-in-law, and it w^s the king, not she, who broke offth^ 
 
lyo UARDA. 
 
 betrothal. Thou must at the same time have been in<' 
 scribed in the black books of the ' high gate,' for Rameses 
 used many hard names for thee. One of us is Hke a mouse 
 behind the curtain, which knows a good deal." 
 
 Paaker suddenly brought his horses to a stand-still, threw 
 the reins to the slave, sprang from the chariot, called the 
 dwarf to his side, and said : 
 
 ** We will walk from here to the river, and you shall 
 tell me all you know ; but if an untrue word passes your 
 lips I will have you eaten by my dogs. " 
 
 **I know thou canst keep thy word," gasped the little 
 man. *'But go a little slower if thou wilt, for I am quite 
 out of breath. Let Katuti herself tell thee how it all came 
 about. Rameses compelled her to give her daughter to the 
 charioteer. I do not know what he said of thee, but it 
 was not complimentary. My poor mistress ! she let her- 
 self be caught by the dandy, the ladies' man — and now she 
 may weep and wail. When I pass the great gates of thy 
 house with Katuti, she often sighs and complains bitterly. 
 And with good reason, for it will soon be all over with our 
 noble estate, and we must seek a republic far away among 
 the Amu * in the low lands ; for the nobles will soon avoid 
 us as outcasts. Thou mayst be glad that thou hast not 
 linked thy fate to ours ; but I have a faithful heart, and 
 will share my mistress' trouble." 
 
 " You speak riddles," said Paaker, " what have they to 
 fear ? " 
 
 The dwarf now related how Nefert's brother had gambled 
 away the mummy of his father, how enormous was the 
 sum he had lost, and that degradation must overtake 
 Katuti, and her daughter with her. 
 
 ''Who can save them ? " he whimpered. " Her shame- 
 less husband squanders his inheritance and his prize-money. 
 Katuti is poor, and the little words * Give me ! ' scare away 
 friends as the cry of a hawk scares the chickens. My poor 
 mistress ! " 
 
 * * It is a large sum, " muttered Paaker to himself. 
 
 "It is enormous ! " sighed the dwarf, " and where is it 
 
 * A Semitic tribe, who at the time of our story peopled the eastern 
 delta. See *'^gypten und dte Buchea Moses," Ebers, and the second 
 edition of " Histoire de I'Egypte " by Brugsch. The name Bi-amites 
 Qomes from the old name Amu. 
 
UARDA. 171 
 
 to be found in these hard times ? It would have been dif- 
 ferent with us, if — ah if And it would be a form of 
 
 madness which I do not believe in, that Nefert should still 
 care for her braggart husband. She thinks as much of 
 thee as of him." 
 
 Paaker looked at the dwarf half incredulous and half 
 threatening. 
 
 *'Ay — of thee," repeated Nemu. *' Since our excursion 
 to the Necropolis — the day before yesterday it was — she 
 speaks only of thee, praising thy ability, and thy strong 
 manly spirit. It is as if some charm obliged her to think 
 of thee." 
 
 The pioneer began to walk so fast that his small com- 
 panion once more had to ask him to moderate his steps. 
 
 They gained the shore in silence, where Paaker's boat 
 was waiting, which also conveyed his chariot. He lay 
 down in the little cabin, called the dwarf to him, and 
 said : 
 
 "I am Katuti's nearest relative ; we are now reconciled ; 
 why does she not turn to me in her difficulty ? " 
 
 " Because she is proud, and thy blood flows in her veins. 
 Sooner would she die with her child — she said so — than 
 ask thee, against whom she sinned, for an alms." 
 
 "She did think of me then ? " 
 
 **At once; nor did she doubt thy generosity. She 
 esteems thee highly — I repeat it ; and if an arrow from a 
 Cheta's bow or a visitation of the gods attained Mena, she 
 would joyfully place her child in thine arms, and Nefert, 
 believe me, has not forgotten her play-fellow. The day 
 before yesterday, when she came home from the Necropolis, 
 and before the letter had come from the camp, she was full 
 of thee — nay, called to thee in her dreams ; I know it from 
 Kandake, her black maid." 
 
 The pioneer looked down and said : 
 
 "How extraordinary! And the same night I had a 
 vision in which your mistress appeared to me ; the insolent 
 priest in the temple of Hathor should have interpreted it 
 tome." 
 
 ' ' And he refused ? The fool ! But other folks under- 
 stand dreams, and I am not the worst of them. Ask thy 
 servant. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred my inter* 
 pretations come true. How was the vision ? " 
 
172 aARDA. 
 
 ** I stood by the Nile," said Paaker, casting down his 
 eyes and drawing lines with his whip through the wool of 
 the cabin rug. "The water was still, and I saw Nefert 
 standing on the further bank and beckoning to me. I 
 called to her, and she stepped on the water, which bore 
 her up as if it were this carpet. She went over the water 
 dry-foot as if it were the stony wilderness. A wonderful 
 sight ! She came nearer to me, and nearer, and already I 
 had tried to take her hand, when she ducked under like a 
 swan. I went into the water to seize her, and when she 
 came up again I clasped her in my arms ; but then the 
 strangest thing happened — she flowed away, she dissolved 
 like the snow on the Syrian hills, when you take it in your 
 hand, and yet it was not the same, for her hair turned to 
 water-lilies, and her eyes to blue fishes that swam away 
 merrily, and her lips to twigs of coral that sank at once, 
 and from her body grew a crocodile, with a head like 
 Mena, that laughed and gnashed its teeth at me. Then 
 I was seized with blind fury ; I threw myself upon him 
 with a drawn sword, he fastened his teeth in my flesh, I 
 pierced his throat with my weapon ; the Nile was dark 
 with our streaming blood, and so we fought and fought — 
 it lasted an eternity — till I awoke." 
 
 Paaker drew a long breath as he ceased speaking ; as if 
 his wild dream tormented him again. 
 
 The dwarf had listened with eager attention, but several 
 minutes passed before he spoke, 
 
 *' A strange dream," he said, *' but the interpretation as 
 to the future is not hard to find. Nefert is striving to 
 reach thee, she longs to be thine ; but if thou dost fancy 
 that she is already in thy grasp she will elude thee ; thy 
 hopes will melt like ice, slip away like sand, if thou dost 
 not know how to put the crocodile out of the way." 
 
 At this moment the boat struck the landing-place. 
 The pioneer started up, and cried : "We have reached the 
 end ! " 
 
 "We have reached the end," echoed the little man 
 with meaning. "There is only a narrow bridge to step 
 over." 
 
 When they both stood on the shore, the dwarf said : 
 
 " I have to thank thee for thy hospitality, and when I 
 can serve thee command me." 
 
UARDA. 17^ 
 
 "Come here," cried the pioneer, and drew Nemu away 
 with him under the shade of a sycamore veiled in the half 
 light of the departing sun. 
 
 ' ' What do you mean by a bridge which we must step 
 over? I do not understand the flowers of speech, and 
 desire plain language." 
 
 The dwarf reflected for a moment, and then asked : 
 
 "Shall I say nakedly and openly what I mean, and will 
 you not be angry ? " 
 
 "Speak!" 
 
 " Mena is the crocodile. Put him out of the world, and 
 you will have passed the bridge ; then Nefert will be thine 
 — if thou wilt listen to me." 
 
 "What shall I do?" 
 
 " Put the charioteer out of the world." 
 
 Paaker's gesture seemed to convey that that was a thing 
 that had long been decided on, and he turned his face, for 
 a good omen, so that the rising moon should be on his 
 right hand. 
 
 The dwarf went on. 
 
 "Secure Nefert, so that she may not vanish like her 
 image in the dream, before you reach the goal ; that is to 
 say, ransom the honor of your future mother and wife, 
 for how could you take an outcast into your house ? " 
 
 Paaker looked thoughtfully at the ground. 
 
 " May I inform my mistress that thou wilt save her?" 
 asked Nemu. " I may ? Then all will be well, for he who 
 will devote a fortune to love will not hesitate to devote a 
 reed lance with a brass point to it to his love and his 
 hatred together. " 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 The sun had set, and darkness covered the City of the 
 Dead ; but the moon shone above the valley of the kings' 
 tombs, and the projecting masses of the rocky walls of the 
 chasm threw sharply-defined shadows. A weird silence 
 lay upon the desert, where yet far more life was stirring 
 than in the noonday hour, for now bats darted like black 
 
174 UARDA. 
 
 silken threads through the night air, owls hovered aloft 
 on wide-spread wings, small troops of jackals slipped by, 
 one following the other up the mountain slopes. From 
 time to time their hideous yells, or the whining laugh of 
 the hyena, broke the stillness of the night. 
 
 Nor was human life yet at rest in the valley of the 
 tombs. A faint light glimmered in the cave of the sor- 
 ceress Hekt, and in front of the paraschites' hut a fire was 
 burning, which the grandmother of the sick Uarda now 
 and then fed with pieces of dry manure. Two men were 
 seated in front of the hut, and gazed in silence on the thin 
 flame, whose impure light was almost quenched by the 
 clearer glow of the moon ; while the third, Uarda's father, 
 disemboweled a large ram, whose head he had already cut 
 off. 
 
 ** How the jackals howl ! " said the old paraschites, draw- 
 ing as he spoke the torn brown cotton cloth, which he had 
 put on as a protection against the night air and the dew 
 closer round his bare shoulders. 
 
 "They scent the fresh meat," answered the physician 
 Nebsecht. "Throw them the entrails, when you have 
 done ; the legs and back you can roast. Be careful how 
 you cut out the heart — the heart, soldier. There it is ! 
 What a great beast. " 
 
 Nebsecht took the ram's heart in his hand, and gazed at 
 it with the deepest attention, while the old paraschites 
 watched him anxiously. At length : 
 
 "I promised," he said, "to do for you what you wish, 
 if you restore the little one to health ; but you ask for what 
 is imposssible." 
 
 " Impossible ? " said the physician, " why, impossible? 
 You open the corpses, you go in and out of the house of 
 the embalmer. Get possession of one of the Kanopis,* 
 lay this heart in it, and take out in its stead the heart of a 
 
 ♦Vases of clay, limestone, or alabaster, which were used for the pres- 
 ervation of the intestines of the embalmed Egyptians, and represented 
 the four genii of death, Amset, Hapi, Tuamutef, and Khebsennuf. In- 
 stead of the cover, the head of the genius to which it was dedicated, was 
 placed on each kanopus. Amset (under the protection of Isis) has a 
 human head, Hapi (protected by Nephthys) an ape's head, Tuamutef 
 (protected by Neith) a jackal's head, and Khebsennuf (protected by 
 Selk) a sparrow-hawk's head. In one of the Christian Coptic Manu- 
 scripts the four archangels are invoked in the place of these genii. 
 
UARDA. 175 
 
 human being. No one — no one will notice it. Nor need 
 you do it to-morrow, or the day after to-morrow even. 
 Your son can buy a ram to kill every day with my money 
 till the right moment comes. Your grandaughter will 
 soon grow strong on a good meat diet. Take courage ! " 
 
 '*I am not afraid of the danger," said the old man, "but 
 how can I venture to steal from a dead man his life in the 
 other world ? And then — in shame and misery have I 
 lived, and for many a year — no man has numbered them 
 for me — have- I obeyed the commandments, that I may be 
 found righteous in that world to come, and in the fields 
 of Aalu, and in the Sun-bark find compensation for all that 
 I have suffered here. You are good and friendly. Why, 
 for the sake of a whim, should you sacrifice the future 
 bliss of a man, who in all his long life has never known 
 happiness, and who has never done you any harm ? " 
 
 "What I want with the heart," replied the physician, 
 "you cannot understand, but in procuring it for me, you 
 will be furthering a great and useful purpose. I have no 
 whims, for I am no idler. And as to what concerns your 
 salvation, have no anxiety. I am a priest, and take your 
 deed and its consequences upon myself ; upon myself, do 
 you understand ? I tell you, as a priest, that what I de- 
 mand of you is right, and if the judge of the dead shall 
 inquire, ' Why didst thou take the heart of a human being 
 out of the Kanopus ? ' then reply — reply to him thus, 
 * Because Nebsecht, the priest, commanded me and prom- 
 ised himself to answer for the deed.' " 
 
 The old man gazed thoughtfully on the ground, and the 
 physician continued still more urgently : 
 
 *' If you fulfill my wish, then — then I swear to you that, 
 when you die, I will take care that your mummy is pro- 
 vided with all the amulets, and I myself will write you a 
 book of the Entrance into Day,* and have it wound within 
 your mummy-cloth, as is done with the great, f That will 
 give you power over all demons, and you will be admitted 
 to the hall of the twofold justice, which punishes and re- 
 wards, and your award will be bliss. " 
 
 * The first section of the so-called Book of the Dead is thus en- 
 titled. 
 
 t The Books of the Dead are often found among the clot'^s (>^y the 
 leg or under the arm), or else in the coffin under, or near» the mummy. 
 
176 UARDA. 
 
 "But the theft of a heart will make the weight of my 
 sins heavy, when my own heart is weighed," sighed the 
 old man. 
 
 Nebsecht considered for a moment, and then said : ' ' I 
 will give you a written paper, in which I will certify that 
 it was I who commanded the theft. You will sew it up 
 in a little bag, carry it on your breast, and have it laid 
 with you in the grave. Then when Techuti, the agent of 
 the soul, receives your justification before Osiris and the 
 judges of the dead,* give him the writing. He will read 
 it aloud, and you will be accounted just." 
 
 '' I am not learned in writing," muttered the paraschites, 
 with a slight mistrust that made itself felt in his voice. 
 
 *' But I swear to you by the nine great gods, that I will 
 write nothing on the paper but what I have promised you. 
 I will confess that I, the priest Nebsecht, commanded you 
 to take the heart, and that your guilt is mine." 
 
 "Let me have the writing then," murmured the old 
 man. 
 
 The physician wiped the perspiration from his forehead 
 and gave the paraschites his hand. ''To-morrow you 
 shall have it," he said, " and I will not leave your grand- 
 daughter till she is well again." 
 
 The soldier engaged in cutting up the ram, had heard 
 nothing of this conversation. Now he ran a wooden spit 
 through the legs, and held them over the fire to roast 
 them. The jackals howled louder as the smell of the 
 melting fat filled the air, and the old man, as he looked 
 on, forgot the terrible task he had undertaken. For a 
 year past, no meat had been tasted in his house. 
 
 The physician Nebsecht, himself eating nothing but a 
 piece of bread, looked on at the feasters. They tore the 
 meat from the bones, and the soldier, especially, devoured 
 
 *The vignettes of Chapter 125, of the Book of the Dead, represent 
 the Last Judgment of the Egyptians. Under a canopy Osiris sits en- 
 throned as Chief Judge, forty-two assessors assist him. In the hall stand 
 the scales; the dog-headed ape, the animal sacred to Toth, guides the 
 balance. In one scale lies the heart of the dead man, in the other the 
 image of the goddess of Truth, who introduces the soul into the hall of 
 justice. Toth writes the record. The soul affirms that it has not com- 
 mitted forty-two deadly sins, and if it obtains credit, it is named " maa 
 cheru," /. e., "the truth-speaker," and is therewith declared blessed. It 
 now receives its heart back, and grows into a new and divine life. 
 
UARDA. 
 
 177 
 
 the costly and unwonted meal like some ravenous animal. 
 He could be heard chewing like a horse in the manger, 
 and a feeling of disgust filled the physician's soul. 
 
 "Sensual beings, "he murmured to himself, "animals 
 with consciousness ! And yet human beings. Strange 1 
 They languish bound in the fetters of the world of sense, 
 and yet how much more ardently they desire thcit which 
 transcends sense than we — how much more real it is to 
 them than to us ! " 
 
 " Will you have some meat ? " cried the soldier, who had 
 remarked that Nebsecht's lips moved, and tearing a piece 
 of meat from the bone of the joint he was devouring, he 
 held it out to the physician. Nebsecht shrank back ; the 
 greedy look, the glistening teeth, the dark, rough features 
 of the man terrified him. And he thought of the white and 
 fragile form of the sick girl lying within on the mat, and 
 a question escaped his lips. 
 
 "Is the maiden, is Uarda, your own child.?" he 
 said. 
 
 The soldier struck himself on the breast. "So sure as 
 King Rameses is the son of Seti," he answered. 
 
 The men had finished their meal, and the flat cakes of 
 bread which the wife of the paraschites gave them, and on 
 which they had wiped their hands from the fat, were con- 
 sumed, when the soldier, in whose slow brain the phy- 
 sician's question still lingered, said, sighing deeply : 
 
 ** Her mother was a stranger ; she laid the white dove 
 in the raven's nest." 
 
 " Of what country was your wife a native? " asked the 
 physician. 
 
 "That I do not know," replied the soldier. 
 
 ** Did you never inquire about the family of your own 
 wife ? " 
 
 " Certainly I did ; but how could she have answered 
 me ? But it is a long and strange story." 
 
 "Relate it to me," said Nebsecht, "the night is long, 
 and I like listening better than talking. But first I will 
 see after our patient." 
 
 When the physician had satisfied himself that Uarda was 
 sleeping quietly and breathing regularly, he seated him- 
 self again by the paraschites and his son, and the soldier 
 began : 
 
 13 
 
178 UARDA. 
 
 "It all happened long ago. King Seti still lived, but 
 Rameses already reigned in his stead, when I came home 
 from the North. They had sent me to the workmen, who 
 were building the fortifications in Zoan, the town of 
 Rameses.* I was set over six men, Amus,f of the He- 
 brew race, over whom Rameses kept such a tight hand, J 
 Among the men there were sons oi rich cattle-holders, for 
 in levying the people it was never : * What have you ? ' but 
 ' Of what race are you ? ' The fortifications and the canal 
 which was to join the Nile and the Red Sea had to be com- 
 pleted, and the king, to whom be long life, health, and 
 prosperity, took the youth of Egypt with him to the wars, 
 and left the works to the Amus, who are connected by race 
 with his enemies in the east. One lives well in Goshen, 
 for it is a fine country, with more than enough of corn 
 and grass and vegetables and fish and fowls, and I always 
 had of the best, for among my six people were two mothers' 
 darlings whose parents sent me many a piece of silver. 
 Everyone loves his children, but the Hebrews love them 
 more tenderly than other people. We had daily our ap- 
 pointed tale of bricks to deliver, and when the sun burnt 
 hot, I used to help the lads, and I did more in an hour 
 than they did in three, for I am strong and was still 
 stronger then than I am now. 
 
 "Then came the time when I was relieved. I was 
 ordered to return to Thebes, to the prisoners of war who 
 were building the great temple of Amon over yonder, and 
 as I had brought home some money, and it would take a 
 good while to finish the great dwelling of the king of the 
 gods, I thought of taking a wife ; but no Egyptian. Of 
 daughters of paraschites there were plenty ; but I wanted 
 to get away out of my father's accursed caste, and the other 
 girls here, as I knew, were afraid of our uncleanness. In 
 the low country I had done better, and many an Amu and 
 Schasu woman had gladly come to my tent. From the 
 beginning I had set my mind on an Asiatic. 
 
 ' * Many a time maidens taken prisoners in war were 
 
 * The Rameses of the Bible. Exodus i, ii. 
 
 t Semites. 
 
 j For an account of the traces of the Jews in Egypt, see Chabas, 
 Melanges, and Ebers, ^Egypten und die BUcher Moses, also Durch Go»eii 
 zum Sinai. 
 
UARDA. J 79 
 
 brought to be sold, but either they did tiot please me, or 
 they were too dear. Meantime my money melted away, 
 for we enjoyed life in the time of rest which followed the 
 working hours. There were dancers too in plenty, in the 
 foreign quarter. 
 
 ''Well, it was just at the time of the holy feast of Amon- 
 Chem, that a new transport of prisoners of war arrived, 
 and among them many women, who were sold publicly 
 to the highest bidder. The young and beautiful ones 
 were paid for high, but even the older ones were too dear 
 for me. 
 
 '' Quite at the last a blind woman was led forward, and 
 a withered-looking woman who was dumb, as the auction- 
 eer, who generally praised up the merits of the prisoners, 
 informed the buyers. The blind woman had strong hands, 
 and was bought by a tavern-keeper, for whom she turns 
 the hand-mill to this day ; the dumb woman held a child 
 in her arms, and no one could tell whether she was young 
 or old. She looked as though she already lay in her coffin, 
 and the little one as though he would go under the grass 
 before her. And her hair was red, burning red, the very 
 color of Typhon. Her white pale face looked neither bad 
 nor good, only weary, weary to death. On her withered 
 white arms blue veins ran like dark cords, her hands hung 
 feebly down, and in them hung the child; If a wind 
 were to rise, I thought to myself, it would blow her away 
 and the little one with her. 
 
 * ' The auctioneer asked for a bid. All were silent for 
 the dumb shadow was of no use for work ; she was half- 
 dead, and a burial costs money. 
 
 *'So passed several minutes. Then the auctioneer 
 stepped up to her, and gave her a blow with his whip, that 
 she might rouse herself up, and appear less miserable to the 
 buyers. She shivered like a person in a fever, pressed the 
 child closer to her, and looked round at every one as 
 though seeking for help — and me full in the face. What 
 happened now was a real wonder, for her eyes were bigger 
 than any that I ever saw, and a demon dwelt in them that 
 had power over me and ruled me to the end, and that day 
 it bewitched me for the first time. 
 
 ** It was not hot and I had drunk nothing, and yet I 
 acted against my own will and better judgment when, aa 
 
i8o VA'RDA. 
 
 her eyes fell upon me, I bade all that I possessed in order 
 to buy her. 1 might have had her cheaper ! My compan- 
 ions laughed at me, the auctioneer shrugged his shoulders 
 as he took my money, but I took the child on my arm, 
 helped the woman up, carried her in a boat over the Nile, 
 loaded a stone-cart with my miserable property, and drove 
 her like a block of lime home to the old people. 
 
 " My mother shook her head, and my father looked as 
 if he thought me mad ; but neither of them said a word. 
 They made up a bed for her, and on my spare nights I 
 built that ruined thing hard by — it was a tidy hut once. 
 Soon my mother grew fond of the child. It was quite 
 small, and we called it Pennu,* because it was so pretty, 
 like a little mouse. I kept away from the foreign quarter, 
 and saved my wages, and bought a goat, which lived in 
 front of our door when I took the woman to her own hut. 
 
 "She was dumb, but not deaf, only she did not under- 
 stand our language ; but the demon in her eyes spoke for 
 her and understood what I said. She comprehended every- 
 thing, and could say everything with her eyes ; but best of 
 all she knew how to thank one. No high-priest who at the 
 great hill festival praises the gods in long hymns for their 
 gifts can return thanks so earnestly with his lips as she 
 with her dumb eyes. And when she wished to pray, then 
 it seemed as though the demon in her look was mightier 
 than ever. 
 
 *' At first I used to be impatient enough when she leaned 
 so feebly against the wall, or when the child cried and 
 disturbed my sleep ; but she had only to look up, and the 
 demon pressed my heart together and persuaded me that 
 the crying was really a song. Pennu cried more sweetly 
 too than other children, and he had such soft, white, pretty 
 little fingers. 
 
 ** One day he had been crying for a long time. At last 
 I bent down over him, and was going to scold him, but 
 he seized me by the beard. It was pretty to see ! After- 
 ward he was forever wanting to pull me about, and his 
 mother noticed that that pleased me, for when I brought 
 home anything good, an egg or a flower or a cake, she 
 used to hold him up and place his little hands on my 
 beard. 
 
 * Pennu is the name for the mouse in old Eg3rptian, 
 
UARDA. i8i 
 
 ''Yes, in a few months the woman had learned to hold 
 him up high in her arms, for with care and quiet she had 
 grown stronger. White she always remained and delicate, 
 but she grew younger and more beautiful from day to 
 day ; she could hardly have numbered twenty years when 
 I bought her. What she was called I never heard ; nor 
 did we give her any name. She was 'the woman,* and 
 so we called her. 
 
 " Eight moons passed by, and then the little mouse died. 
 I wept as she did, and as I bent over the corpse and let 
 my tears have free course, and thought — now he can never 
 lift up his pretty little finger to you again ; then I felt for 
 the first time the woman's soft hand on my cheek. She 
 stroked my rough beard as a child might, and with that 
 looked at me so gratefully that I felt as though King 
 Pharaoh had all at once made me a present of both Upper 
 and Lov/er Egypt. 
 
 "When the mouse was buried she got weaker again, but 
 my mother took good care of her. I lived with her, like a 
 father with his child. She was always friendly, but if I 
 approached her, and tried to show her any fondness, she 
 would look at me, and the demon in her eyes drove me 
 back, and I let her alone. 
 
 *' She grew healthier and stronger and more and more 
 beautiful, so beautiful that I kept her hidden, and was 
 consumed by the longing to make her my wife. A good 
 housewife she never became, to be sure ; her hands were 
 so tender, and she did not even know how to milk the 
 goat. My mother did that and everything else for her. 
 
 " In the daytime she stayed in her hut and worked, for 
 she was very skillful at woman's work, and wove lace as 
 fine as cobwebs, which my mother sold that she might 
 bring home perfumes with the proceeds. She was very 
 fond of them, and of flowers too ; and Uarda in there 
 takes after her. 
 
 "In the evening, when the folks from the other side 
 had left the City of the Dead, she would often walk up 
 and down the valley here, thoughtful, and often looking 
 up at the moon, which she was especially fond of. 
 
 "One evening in the winter-time I came home. It was 
 already dark, and I expected to find her in front of the 
 door. All at once, about a hundred steps behind old 
 
l82 UARDA. 
 
 Hekt's cave, I heard a troop of jackals barking so furiously 
 that I said to myself directly they had attacked a human 
 being, and I knew too who it was, though no one had told 
 me, and the woman could not call or cry out. Frantic 
 with terror, I tore a firebrand from the hearth and the 
 stake to which the goat was fastened out of the ground, 
 rushed to her help, drove away the beasts, and carried her 
 back senseless to the hut. My mother helped me, and we 
 called her back to life. When we were alone, I wept like 
 a child for joy at her escape, and she let me kiss her, and 
 then she became my wife, three years after I had bought 
 her. 
 
 **She bore me a little maid, that she herself named 
 Uarda ; for she showed us a rose, and then pointed to the 
 child, and we understood her without words. 
 
 ** Soon afterward she died. 
 
 *' You are a priest, but I tell you that when I am sum- 
 moned before Osiris, if I am admitted among the blessed, 
 I will ask whether I shall meet my wife, and if the door- 
 keeper says no, he may thrust me back, and I will go 
 down cheerfully to the damned, if I find her again there." 
 
 ' * And did no sign ever betray her origin t " asked the 
 physician. 
 
 The soldier had hidden his face in his hands ; he was 
 weeping aloud, and did not hear the question. But the 
 paraschites answered : 
 
 ** She was the child of some great personage, for in her 
 clothes we found a golden jewel with a precious stone in- 
 scribed with strange characters. It is very costly, and 
 my wife is keeping it for the little one." 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 In the earliest glimmer of dawn the following day, the 
 physician Nebsecht, having satisfied himself as to the state 
 of the sick girl, left the paraschites' hut and made his 
 way in the deepest thought to the terrace-temple of 
 Hatasu, to find his friend Pentaur and compose the writ- 
 ing which he had promised to the old man. 
 
UARDA. 183 
 
 As the sun rose in radiance he reached the sanctuary. 
 He expected to hear the morning song of the priests, but 
 all was silent. He knocked, and the porter, still half- 
 asleep, opened the door. 
 
 Nebsecht inquired for the chief of the temple. 
 
 " He died in the night," said the man, yawning. 
 
 "What do you say ?" cried the physician, in sudden 
 terror, " who is dead? " 
 
 "Our good old chief, Rui.'* 
 
 Nebsecht breathed again, and asked for Pentaur. 
 
 "You belong to the House of Seti," said the door- 
 keeper, "and you do not know that he is deposed from 
 his office ? The holy fathers have refused to celebrate the: 
 birth of Ra with him. He sings for himself now, alone up 
 on the watch-tower. There you will find him." 
 
 Nebsecht strode quickly up the stairs. Several of the 
 priests placed themselves together in groups as soon as. 
 they saw him, and began singing. He paid no heed to 
 them, however, but hastened on to the uppermost terrace,, 
 where he found his friend occupied in writing. 
 
 Soon he learned all that had happened, and wrathfully 
 he cried : "You are too honest for those wise gentlemeni 
 in the House of Seti, and too pure and zealous for the' 
 rabble here. I knew it, I knew what would come of it if 
 they introduced you to the mysteries. For us initiated; 
 there remains only the choice between lying and silence."^ 
 
 "The old error!" said Pentaur, "we know that the- 
 Godhead is One, we name it, 'The All,' * * The Veil of the> 
 
 * The sacred text repeatedly calls God the " One," the " only One."' 
 The pantheistic teaching of the Mysteries is most clearly expressed in 
 those texts which are found in almost all the Kings' tombs in Thebes,, 
 and on the walls of the entrance halls. They have been collected, and. 
 contain praises to Ra, whose seventy-five principal manifestations are' 
 invoked. These texts and the pantheism, in the esoteric teaching of the: 
 Egyptians, are excellently and comprehensively treated by E. Naville in- 
 ** La Litanie du Soleil." The text of the Book of Death, the Hymn to- 
 the Sun preserved at Bulaq, and treated by Stem and Grebaut, the in- 
 scriptions on the sarcophagi and on the walls of the Temple of Ptolemy,, 
 and second in order to these, Plutarch's treatise on Isis and Osiris, the-. 
 Egyptian Mysteries of Jamblichus, and the Discourse of Hermes Tris-- 
 megistuson the Human Soul, are the principal sources for the study of- 
 the secret teaching of the Eg)rptians. The views brought forward and', 
 developed in these discourses seem first to have come to perfection ini 
 the kingdom. The Egyptian religion proceeded from a comparatively^ 
 rude Sun and Nile worship. 
 
l84 UARDA. 
 
 All,' or simply * Ra/ But under the name Ra we under- 
 stand something different than is known to the common 
 herd ; for- to us, the Universe is God, and in each of its 
 parts we recognize a manifestation of that highest being 
 without whom nothing is, in the heights above or in the 
 depths below." 
 
 ** To me you can say everything, for I also am initiated," 
 interrupted Nebsecht. 
 
 **But neither from the laity do I withold it," cried 
 Pentaur, " only to those who are incapable of understand- 
 ing the whole, do I show the different parts. Am I a liar 
 if I do not say, *I speak,' but ' my mouth speaks ; ' if I 
 affirm, 'Your eye sees,' when it is you yourself who are 
 the seers ? When the light of the only One manifests itself, 
 then I fervently render thanks to Him in hymns, and the 
 most luminous of his forms I name Ra. When I look 
 upon yonder green fields, I call upon the faithful to give 
 thanks to Rennut,* that is, that active manifestation of 
 the One, through which the corn attains to its ripe maturity. 
 Am I filled with wonder at the bounteous gifts with which 
 that divine stream whose origin is hidden, blesses our land, 
 then I adore the One as the God Hapi,t the secret one. 
 Whether we view the sun, the harvest, or the Nile, whether 
 we contemplate with admiration the unity and harmony 
 of the visible or invisible world, still it is always with the 
 Only, the All-embracing One we have to do, to whom we 
 also ourselves belong as those of his manifestations in 
 which he places his self-consciousness. The imagination 
 of the multitude is limited " 
 
 ** And so we lions, J give them the morsel that we can 
 devour at one gulp, finely chopped up, and diluted with 
 broth as if for the weak stomach of a sick man. " 
 
 "Not so; we only feel it our duty to temper and 
 sweeten the sharp potion, which for men even is almost 
 too strong, before we offer it to the children, the babes in 
 spirit. The sages of old veiled indeed the highest truths 
 
 * Goddess of the harvest. 
 
 t The Nile. 
 
 j " The priests," says Clement of Alexandria, " allow none to be par- 
 ticipators in their mysteries, except kings or such among themselves as 
 are distinguished for virtue or wisdom. The same thing is shown by 
 the monuments in many places. 
 
UARDA. 185 
 
 in allegorical forms, in symbols, and finally in a beautiful 
 and richly-colored mythos, but they brought them near to 
 the multitude, shrouded, it is true, but stilldiscernible." 
 
 ''Discernible?" said the physician, "discernible? 
 Why then the veil ? '' 
 
 "And do you imagine that the multitude could look the 
 naked truth in the face,* and not despair ? " 
 
 "Can I, can any one who looks straight forward, and 
 strives to see the truth and nothing but the truth ? " cried 
 the physician. "We both of us know that things only 
 are, to us, such as they picture themselves in the prepared 
 mirror of our souls. I see gray, gray, and white, white, 
 and have accustomed myself in my yearning after knowl- 
 edge, not to attribute the smallest part to my own idiosyn- 
 crasy, if such indeed there be existing in my empty breast. 
 You look straight onward as I do, but in you each idea is 
 transfigured, for in your soul invisible shaping powers are 
 at work, which set the crooked straight, clothe the com- 
 monplace with charm, the repulsive with beauty. You 
 are a poet, an artist ; I only seek for truth." 
 
 "Only?" said Pentaur, "it is just on account of that 
 effort that I esteem you so highly, and, as you already 
 know, I also desire nothing but the truth." 
 
 "I know, I know," said the physician, nodding, "but 
 our ways run side by side without ever touching, and our 
 final goal is the reading of a riddle, of which there are 
 many solutions. You believe yourself to have found the 
 right one, and perhaps none exists." 
 
 "Then let us content ourselves with the nearest and the 
 most beautiful," said Pentaur. 
 
 "The most beautiful?" cried Nebsecht indignantly. 
 "Is that monster, whom you call God, beautiful — the 
 giant who forever regenerates himself that he may devour 
 himself again ? God is the All, you say, who suffices to 
 himself. Eternal he is and shall be, because all that goes 
 forth from him is absorbed by him again, and the great 
 niggard bestows no grain of sand, no ray of light, no 
 breath of wind, without reclaiming it for his household, 
 which is ruled by no design, no reason, no goodness, but 
 
 * In Sais the statue of Athene (Neith) has the following inscription : 
 " I am the All, the Past, the Present, and the Future, my veil has no 
 mortal yet lifted." 
 
l86 UARDA. 
 
 by a tyrannical necessity, whose slave he himself is. The 
 coward hides behind the cloud of incomprehensibility, and 
 can be revealed only by himself — I would I could strip 
 him of the veil ! Thus I see the thing that you call God ! " 
 
 " A ghastly picture," said Pentaur, "■ because you forget 
 that we recognize reason to be the essence of the All, the 
 penetrating and moving power of the universe which is 
 manifested in the harmonious working together of its 
 parts, and in ourselves also, since we are formed out of its 
 substance, and inspired with its soul." 
 
 ** Is the warfare of life in any way reasonable ? " asked 
 Nebsecht. *'Is this eternal destruction in order to build 
 up again especially well-designed and wise .? And with 
 this introduction of reason into the All, you provide your- 
 self with a self-devised ruler, who terribly resembles the 
 gracious masters and mistresses that you exhibit to the 
 people." 
 
 "Only apparently," answered Pentaur, ''only because 
 that which transcends sense is communicable through the 
 medium of the senses alone. When God manifests him- 
 self as the wisdom of the world, we call him. ' the Word.' 
 'He who covers his limbs with names,'* as the sacred 
 text expresses itself, is the power which gives to things 
 their distinctive forms ; the scarabaeus ' which enters life 
 as its own son' f reminds us of the ever self-renewing 
 creative power which causes you to call oi^r merciful and 
 benevolent God a monster, but which you can deny as 
 little as you can the happy choice of the type ; for, as you 
 know, there are only male scarabei, and this animal re- 
 produces itself." 
 
 Nebsecht smiled. " If all the doctrines of the mys- 
 teries," he said, "have no more truth than this happily 
 chosen image, they are in a bad way. These beetles have 
 for years been my friends and companions. I know their 
 family life, and I can assure you that there are males and 
 females among them as among cats, apes, and human- 
 beings. Your * good God ' I do not know, and what I 
 least comprehend in thinking it over quietly is the circum- 
 stance that you distinguish a good and evil principle in the 
 
 *From inscriptions at Abydos,. and the Praises qf Ra. at. Biban el 
 Afuluk. 
 t From the saiAQ Te^ts, 
 
UARDA. 187 
 
 world. If the All is indeed God, if God, as the Scriptures 
 teach, is goodness, and if besides Him is nothing at all, 
 where is a place to be found for evil ? " 
 
 ** You talk like a school-boy," said Pentaur indignantly. 
 *' All that is, is good and reasonable in itself, but the in- 
 finite One, who prescribes his own laws and his own 
 paths, grants to the finite its continuance through con- 
 tinual renewal, and in the changing forms of the finite 
 progresses for evermore. What we call evil, darkness, 
 wickedness, is in itself divine, good, reasonable, and 
 clear ; but it appears in another light to our clouded minds, 
 because we perceive the way only and not the goal, the 
 details only, and not the whole. Even so, superficial 
 listeners blame the music, in which a discord is heard, 
 while the harper has only evoked from the strings that his 
 hearers may more deeply feel the purity of the succeeding 
 harmony ; even so, a fool blames the painter who has 
 colored his board with black, and does not wait for the 
 completion of the picture which shall be thrown into 
 clearer relief by the dark background ; even so, a child 
 chides the noble tree, whose fruit rots, that a new life may 
 spring up from its kernel. Apparent evil is but an ante- 
 chamber to higher bliss, as every sunset is but veiled by 
 night, and will soon show itself again as the red dawn of 
 a new day." 
 
 "How convincing all that sounds!" answered the 
 physician, "all, even the. terrible, wins charm from your 
 lips ; but I could invert your proposition, and declare that 
 it is evil that rules the world, and sometimes gives us one 
 drop of sweet content, in order that we may more keenly 
 feel the bitterness of life. You see harmony and good- 
 ness in everything. I have observed that passion awakens 
 life, that all existence is a conflict, that one being devours 
 another." 
 
 "And do you not feel the beauty of visible creation, 
 and does not the immutable law in everything fill you, 
 with admiration and humility ? " 
 
 ' * For beauty, " replied Nebsecht,- ' ' Ihave never sought .; 
 the organ is somehow wanting in me to understand it of 
 myself, though I willingly allow you to mediate between 
 us. But of law in nature I fully appreciate the worth, for 
 that is the veritable soul of the universe. You call the 
 
1 88 UARDA. 
 
 One 'Temt/ that is to say, the total — the unity which is 
 reached by the addition of many units ; and that pleases 
 me, for the elements of the universe and the powers which 
 prescribe the paths of life are strictly defined by measure 
 and number — but irrespective of beauty or benevolence." 
 
 "Such views," cried Pen taur, troubled, " are the result 
 of your strange studies. You kill and destroy, in order, 
 as you yourself say, to come upon the track of the secrets 
 of life. Look out upon nature, develop the faculty which 
 you declare to be wanting in you, and the beauty of crea- 
 tion will teach you without my assistance that you are 
 praying to a false god." 
 
 '' I do not pray," said Nebsecht, ''for the law which 
 moves the world is as little affected by prayers as the 
 current of the sands in your hour-glass. Who tells you that 
 I do not seek to come upon the track of the first beginning 
 of things.? I proved to you just now that I know more 
 about the origin of scarabei than you do. I have killed 
 many an animal, not only to study its organism, but also 
 to investigate how it has built up its form. But precisely 
 in this work my organ for beauty has become blunt rather 
 than keen. I tell you that the beginning of things is not 
 more attractive to contemplate than their death and 
 decomposition." 
 
 Pentaur looked at the physician inquiringly. 
 
 " I also for once," continued Nebsecht, "will speak in 
 figures. Look at this wine, how pure it is, how fragrant; 
 and yet it was trodden from the grape by the brawny feet 
 of the vintagers. And those full ears of corn ! They 
 gleam golden yellow, and will yield us snow-white meal 
 when they are ground, and yet they grew from a rotting 
 seed. Lately you were praising to me the beauty of the 
 great Hall of Columns nearly completed in the temple of 
 Ammon* over yonder in Thebes. How posterity will 
 admire it ! I saw that hall arise. There lay masses of free- 
 stone in wild confusion, dust in heaps that took away my 
 breath, and three months since I was sent over there, because 
 above a hundred workmen engaged in stone-polishing under 
 the burning sun had been beaten to death. Were I a poet 
 
 * Begun by Rameses I., continued by Seti I, completed by Rameses II. 
 The remains of this immense hall, with its one hundred and thirty-four 
 joiumns, have not their equal in the world. 
 
UARDA. 189 
 
 like you, I would show you a hundred similar pictures, in 
 which you would not find much beauty. In the mean- 
 time, we have enough to do in observing the existing 
 order of things, and investigating the laws by which it is 
 governed. " 
 
 "I have never clearly understood your efforts, and have 
 difficulty in comprehending why you did not turn to the 
 science of the haruspices," said Pentaur. "Do you then 
 believe that the changing, and — owing to the conditions 
 by which they are surrounded — the dependent life of 
 plants and animals is governed by law, rule, and numbers 
 like the movement of the stars ? " 
 
 ''What a question ! Is the strong and mighty hand, 
 which compels yonder heavenly bodies to roll onward in 
 their carefully appointed orbits, not delicate enough to 
 prescribe the conditions of the flight of the bird, and the 
 beating of the human heart ? " 
 
 "There we are again with the heart," said the poet, 
 smiling, " are you any nearer your aim ? " 
 
 The physician became very grave. "Perhaps to-mor- 
 row even," he said, "I may have what I need. You 
 have your palette there with red and black color, and a 
 writing reed. May I use this sheet of papyrus ? " 
 
 "Of course ; but first tell me " 
 
 " Do not ask ; you would not approve of my scheme, 
 and there would only be a fresh dispute." 
 
 "I think," said the poet, laying his hand on his friend's 
 shoulder, "that we have no reason to fear disputes. So 
 far they have been the cement, the refreshing dew of our 
 friendship." 
 
 "So long as they treated of ideas only, and not of 
 deeds." 
 
 "You intend to get possession of a human heart!" 
 cried the poet. "Think of what you are doing! The 
 heart is the vessel of that effluence of the universal soul 
 which lives in us." 
 
 "Are you so sure of that? '' cried the physician, with 
 some irritation, " then give me the proof. Have you ever 
 examined a heart, has any one member of my profession 
 done so ? The hearts of criminals and prisoners of war even 
 are declared sacred from touch, and when we stand helpless 
 by a patient, and see our medicines work harm as often as 
 
190 
 
 UARDA. 
 
 g-ood, why is it ? Only because we physicians are ex- 
 pected to work as blindly as an astronomer, if he were re- 
 quired to look at the stars through a board. At Heliopolis 
 I entreated the great Urma* Rahotep, the truly learned 
 chief of our craft, and who held me in esteem, to allow 
 me to examine the heart of a dead Amu ; but he refused 
 me, because the great Sechetf leads virtuous Semites also 
 into the fields of the blessed. And then followed all the 
 o'id scruples ; that to cut up the heart of a beast even is 
 sinful, because it also is the vehicle of a soul, perhaps a 
 condemned and miserable human soul, which before it can 
 return to the One, must undergo purification by passing 
 through the bodies of animals. I was not satisfied, and 
 declared to him that my great-grandfather Nebsecht, before 
 he wrote his treatise on the heart, J must certainly have 
 examined such an organ. Then he answered me that the 
 divinity had revealed to him what he had written, and 
 therefore his work had been accepted among the sacred 
 writings of Toth, which stood fast and unassailable as the 
 laws of the world ; he wished to give me peace for quiet 
 work, and I also, he said, might be a chosen spirit — the 
 divinity might perhaps vouchsafe revelations to me too. I 
 was young at that time, and spent my nights in prayer, but 
 I only wasted away, and my spirit grew darker instead of 
 clearer. Then I killed in secret — first a fowl, then rats, then 
 a rabbit, and cut up their hearts, and followed the vessels 
 that lead out of them, and know little more now than I did 
 at first ; but I must get to the bottom of the truth, and I 
 must have a human heart." 
 
 ''What will that do for you?" asked Pentaur; "you 
 cannot hope to perceive the invisible and the infinite with 
 your human eyes." 
 
 *' Do you know my great-grandfather's treatise? " 
 *' A little," answered the poet ; "he said that wherever 
 he laid his finger, whether on the head, the hands, or 
 the stomach, he everywhere met with the heart, because 
 its vessels go into all the members, and the heart is the 
 meeting point of all these vessels. Then Nebsecht pro- 
 
 * High-priest of Heliopolis. 
 t The lion-headed goddess. 
 
 X The treatise forms the most interesting section of the papyrus Ebers. 
 Published by W. Engelmann, Leipzig. 
 
UARDA. 
 
 191 
 
 ceeds to state how these are distributed in the different 
 members, and shows — is it not so ? — that the various 
 mental states, such as anger, grief, aversion, and also the 
 ordinary use of the word heart, declare entirely for his 
 view. " 
 
 ''That is it. We have already discussed it, and I be- 
 lieve that he is right, so far as the blood is concerned, and 
 the animal sensations. But the pure and luminous intel- 
 ligence in us — that has another seat," and the physician 
 struck his broad but low forehead with his hand. '' I have 
 observed heads by the hundred down at the place of exe- 
 cution, and I have also removed the top of the skulls of 
 living animals. But now let me write, before we are 
 disturbed. " * 
 
 The physician took the reed, moistened it with black 
 color prepared from burnt papyrus, and in elegant hieratic 
 characters f wrote the paper for the paraschites, in which 
 he confessed to having impelled him to the theft of a heart, 
 and in the most binding manner declared himself willing 
 to take the old man's guilt upon himsef before Osiris and 
 the judges of the dead. 
 
 When he had finished, Pentaur held out his hand for 
 the paper, but Nebsecht folded it together, placed it in a 
 little bag In which lay an amulet that his dying mother 
 had hung round his neck, and said, breathing deeply : 
 
 "That is done. Farewell, Pentaur." 
 
 * Human brains are prescribed for a malady of the eyes in the Ebers 
 papyrus. Herophilus, one of the first scholars of the Alexandrine 
 Museum, studied not only the bodies of executed criminals, but made his 
 experiments also on living malefactors. He maintained that the four 
 cavities of the human brain are the seat of the soul. 
 
 t At the time of our narrative the Egyptians had two kinds of writing 
 — the hieroglyphic, which was generally used for monumental inscrip- 
 tions, and in which the letters consisted of conventional representations 
 of various objects, mathematical and arbitrary symbols, and the hieratic, 
 used for writing on papyrus, and in which, with the view of saving time, 
 the written pictures underwent so many alterations and abbreviations 
 that the originals could hardly be recognized. In the eighth century 
 there was a further abridgment of the hieratic writing, which was called 
 the demotic, or people's writing, and was used in commerce. While the 
 hieroglyphic and hieratic writings laid the foundations of the old sacred 
 dialect, the demotic letters were only used to write the spoken language 
 of the people. E. de Rouge's Chrestomathie Egyptienne. H. Brugsch*s 
 Hierogljrphische Grammatik. Le Page Renours shorter hieroglyphical 
 grammar* 
 
192 UARDA. 
 
 But the poet held the physician back ; he spoke to him 
 with the warmest words, and conjured him to abandon his 
 enterprise. His prayers, however, had no power to touch 
 Nebsecht, who only strove forcibly to disengage his finger 
 from Pentaur's strong hand, which held him as in a clasp 
 of iron. The excited poet did not remark that he was 
 hurting his friend, until after a new and vain attempt at 
 freeing himself, Nebsecht cried out in pain, '' You are 
 crushing my finger ! " 
 
 A smile passed over the poet's face, he loosened his 
 hold on the physician, and stroked the reddened hand 
 like a mother who strives to divert her child from pain. 
 
 *' Don't be angry with me, Nebsecht," he said, "you 
 know my unlucky fists, and to-day they really ought to 
 hold you fast, for you have too mad a purpose on hand. " 
 
 ''Mad .? " said the physician, while he smiled in his turn. 
 ** It may be so ; but do you not know that we Egyptians 
 all have a peculiar tenderness for our follies, and are ready 
 to sacrifice house and land to them ? " 
 
 "Our own house and our own land," cried the poet : 
 and then added seriously, "but not the existence, not the 
 happiness of another." 
 
 " Have I not told you that I do not look upon the heart 
 as the seat of our intelligence .? So far as I am concerned, 
 I would as soon be buried with a ram's heart as with my 
 own. " 
 
 "I do not speak of the plundered dead, but of the 
 living," said the poet. "If the deed of the paraschites is 
 discovered, he is undone, and you would only have saved 
 that sweet child in the hut behind there, to fling her into 
 deeper misery. " 
 
 Nebsecht looked at the other with as much astonish- 
 ment and dismay as if he had been awakened from sleep 
 by bad tidings. Then he cried : "All that I have, I would 
 share with the old man and Uarda." 
 
 "And who would protect her? " 
 
 "Her father." 
 
 "That rough drunkard who to-morrow or the day after 
 may be sent no one knows where." 
 
 " He is a good fellow," said the physician, interrupting 
 his friend, and stammering violently. " But who would 
 
UARDA. 193 
 
 do anything to the child ? She is so — so She is so 
 
 charming-, so perfectly sweet and lovely." 
 
 With these last words he cast down his eyes and red- 
 dened like a girl. 
 
 "You understand that," he said, "better than I do; 
 yes, and you also think her beautiful ! Strange ! you 
 must not laugh if I confess — I am but a man like every 
 one else — when I confess, that I believe I have at length 
 discovered in myself the missing organ for beauty of form 
 — not believe merely, but truly have discovered it, for it 
 has not only spoken, but cried, raged, till I felt a rushing 
 in my ears, and for the first time was attracted more by 
 the sufferer than by suffering. I have sat in the hut as 
 though spellbound, and gazed at her hair, at her eye, at 
 how she breathed. They must long since have missed 
 me at the House of Seti, perhaps discovered all my prep- 
 arations, when seeking me in my room ! For two days 
 and nights I have allowed myself to be drawn away from 
 my work, for the sake of this child. Were I one of the 
 laity, whom you would approach, I should say that 
 demons had bewitched me. But it is not that " — and with 
 these words the physician's eyes flamed up — "it is not 
 that ! The animal in me, the low instincts of which the 
 heart is the organ, and which swelled my breast at her 
 bedside, they have mastered the pure and fine emotions 
 here — here in this brain ; and in the very moment when I 
 hoped to know as the God knows whom you call the 
 Prince of knowledge, in that moment I must learn that the 
 animal in me is stronger than that which I call my God." 
 
 The physician, agitated and excited, had fixed his eyes 
 on the ground during these last words, and hardly noticed 
 the poet, who listened to him wondering and full of sym- 
 pathy. For a time both were silent ; then Pentaur laid 
 his hand on his friend's hand, and said cordially : 
 
 " My soul is no stranger to what you feel, and heart and 
 head, if I may use your own words, have known a like 
 emotion. But I know that what we feel, although it may 
 be foreign to our usual sensations, is loftier and more pre- 
 cious than these, not lower. Not the animal, Nebsecht, 
 is it that you feel in yourself, but God. Goodness is the 
 most beautiful attribute of the divine, and you have always 
 been well-disposed toward great and small ; but I ask you, 
 
 13 
 
194 UARDA. 
 
 have you ever before felt so irresistibly impelled to pour 
 out an ocean of goodness on another being, whether for 
 Uarda you would not more joyfully and more self-forget- 
 fully sacrifice all that you have, and all that you are, than 
 to father and mother and your oldest friend ? " 
 
 Nebsecht nodded assentingly. 
 
 ** Well, then," cried Pentaur, ** follow your new and god- 
 like emotion, be good to Uarda and do not sacrifice her to 
 your vain wishes. My poor friend ! With your inquiries 
 into the secrets of life, you have never looked round upon 
 life itself, which spreads open and inviting before our eyes. 
 Do you imagine that the maiden who can thus inflame 
 the calmest thinker in Thebes, will not be coveted by a 
 hundred of the common herd when her protector fails her ? 
 Need I tell you that among the dancers in the foreign 
 quarter nine out of ten are the daughters of outlawed 
 parents ? Can you endure the thought that by your hand 
 innocence may be consigned to vice, the rose trodden 
 under foot in the mud ? Is the human heart that you 
 desire worth an Uarda ? Now go, and to-morrow come 
 again to me, your friend who understands how to sympa- 
 thize with all you feel, and to whom you have approached 
 so much the nearer to-day that you have learned to share 
 his purest happiness." 
 
 Pentaur held out his hand to the physican, who held it 
 some time, then went thoughtfully and lingeringly, un- 
 mindful of the burning glow of the midday sun, over the 
 mountain into the valley of the kings' graves toward the 
 hut of the paraschites. 
 
 Here he found the soldier with his daughter. "Where 
 is the old man ? " he asked anxiously. 
 
 '' He has gone to his work in the house of the em- 
 balmer," was the answer. ** If anything should happen 
 to him he bade me tell you not to forget the writing 
 and the book. He was as though out of his mind when 
 he left us, and put the ram's heart in his bag and took it 
 with him. Do you remain with the little one ; my mother 
 is at work, and I must go with the prisoners of war to 
 Harmontis."* 
 
 * The Erment of to-day, the nearest town to the south of Thebes, at a 
 day's journey from that city. 
 
UARDA. 195 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 While the two friends from the House of Seti were en- 
 gaged in conversation, Katuti restlessly paced the large 
 open hall of her son-in-law's house, in which we have al- 
 ready seen her. A snow-white cat followed her steps, now 
 playing with the hem of her long plain dress, and now 
 turning to a large stand on which the dwarf Nemu sat in 
 a heap, where formerly a silver statue had stood, which 
 a few months previously had been sold. 
 
 He liked this place, for it put him in a position to look 
 into the eyes of his mistress and other full-grown people. 
 
 * * If you have betrayed me ! If you have deceived me ! " 
 said Katuti, with a threatening gesture as she passed his 
 perch. 
 
 ** Put me on a hook to angle for a crocodile, if I have. 
 But I am curious to know how he will offer you the 
 money." 
 
 " You swore to me," interrupted his mistress, with 
 feverish agitation, " that you had not used my name in 
 asking Paaker to save us ? " 
 
 *' A thousand times I swear it," said the little man. 
 "Shall I repeat all our conversation? I tell thee he will 
 sacrifice his land, and his house — great gate and all, for 
 one friendly glance from Neferfs eyes." 
 
 ** If only Mena loved her as he does ! " sighed the widow, 
 and then again she walked up and down the hall in 
 silence, while the dwarf looked out at the garden entrance. 
 Suddenly she paused in front of Nemu, and said so hoarsely 
 that Nemu shuddered : 
 
 ''I wish she were a widow." 
 
 The little man made a gesture as if to protect himself 
 from the evil eye, but at the same instant he slipped down 
 from his pedestal, and exclaimed : 
 
 ''There is a chariot, and I hear his big dog barking. It 
 is he. Shall I call Nefert?" 
 
196 UARDA. 
 
 "No ! " saidKatuti, in a low voice, and she clutched nt 
 the back of a chair as if for support. 
 
 The dwarf shrugged his shoulders, and slunk behind 
 a clump of ornamental plants, and a few minutes later 
 Paaker stood in the presence of Katuti, who greeted him 
 with quiet dignity and self-possession. 
 
 Not a feature of her finely-cut face betrayed her inward 
 agitation, and after the Mohar had greeted her she said 
 with rather patronizing friendliness : 
 
 ** I thought that you would come. Take a seat. Your 
 heart is like your father's ; now that you are friends with 
 us again it is not by halves. " 
 
 Paaker had come to offer his aunt the sum which was 
 necessary for the redemption of her husband's mummy. 
 He had doubted for a long time whether he should not 
 leave this to his mother, but reserve partly and partly 
 vanity had kept him from doing so. 
 
 He would have preferred to send the gold, which he had 
 resolved to give away, by the hand of one of his slaves, 
 like a tributary prince. But that could not be done ; so 
 he put on his finger a ring set with a valuable stone, which 
 King Seti had given to his late father, and added various 
 clasps and bracelets to his dress. 
 
 When, before leaving the house, he looked at himself in 
 a mirror, he said to himself, with some satisfaction, that 
 he, as he stood, was worth as much as the whole of 
 Mena's estates. 
 
 Since his conversation with Nemu, and the dwarfs in- 
 terpretation of his dream, the path which he must tread 
 to reach his aim had been plain before him. Nefert's 
 mother must be won with the gold which would save her 
 from disgrace, and Mena must be sent to the other world. 
 He relied chiefly on his own reckless obstinacy — which 
 he liked to call firm determination — Nemu's cunning, and 
 the love-philter. 
 
 He now approached Katuti with the certainty of suc- 
 cess, like a merchant who means to acquire some costly 
 object, and feels that he is rich enough to pay for it. But 
 his aunt's proud and dignified manner confounded him. 
 
 He had pictured her quite otherwise, spirit-broken, and 
 suppliant : and he had expected, and hoped to earn, 
 Nefert's thanks as well as her mother's by his generosity. 
 
UARDA. 197 
 
 Mena's pretty wife was however absent ; and Katuti did 
 not send for her even after he had inquired after her 
 health. 
 
 The widow made no advances, and some time passed 
 in indifferent conversation, till Paaker abruptly informed 
 her that he had heard of her son's reckless conduct, and 
 had decided, as being his mother's nearest relation, to pre- 
 serve her from the degradation that threatened her. For 
 the sake of his bluntness, which she took for honesty, 
 Katuti forgave the magnificence of his dress, which un- 
 der the circumstances certainly seemed ill-chosen ; she 
 thanked him with dignity, but warmly, more for the sake of 
 her children than for her own ; for life, she said, was open- 
 ing before them, while for her it was drawing to its close. 
 
 "You are still at a good time of life," said Paaker. 
 
 " Perhaps at the best," replied the widow ; '* at any rate 
 from my point of view ; regarding life as I do as a charge, 
 p. heavy responsibility." 
 
 "The adminstration of this involved estate must give 
 you many anxious hours — that I understand." 
 
 Katuti nodded, and then said sadly : 
 
 "I could bear it all, if I were not condemned to see my 
 poor child being brought to misery without being able to 
 tielp her or advise her. You once would willingly have 
 married her, and I ask you, was there a maiden in Thebes 
 —nay in all Egypt — to compare with her for beauty ? 
 Was she not worthy to be loved, and is she not so still ? 
 Does she deserve that her husband should leave her to 
 starve, neglect her, and take a strange woman into his 
 tent as if he had repudiated her ? I see what you feel 
 about it ! You throw all the blame on me. Your heart 
 pays: 'Why did she break off our betrothal?' and your 
 right feeling tells you that you would have given her a 
 happier lot." 
 
 With these words Katuti took her nephew's hand, anCL 
 went on with increasing warmth : 
 
 "We know you to-day for the most magnanimous man 
 in Thebes, for you have requited injustice with an im- 
 mense benefaction ; but even as a boy you were kind and 
 noble. Your father's wish has always been dear and 
 sacred to me, for during his lifetime he always behaved to 
 us as an affectionate brother, and I would sooner have 
 
198 UARDA. 
 
 sown the seeds of sorrow for myself than for your mother, 
 my beloved sister. I brought up my child — I guarded her 
 jealously — for the young hero who was absent, proving 
 his valor in Syria — for you and for you only. Then your 
 father died, my sole stay and protector. " 
 
 "I know it all ! " interrupted Paaker, looking gloomily 
 at the floor. 
 
 * ' Who should have told you ? " said the widow. * ' For 
 your mother, when that had happened which seemed in- 
 credible, forbid us her house, and shut her ears. The 
 king himself urged Mena's suit, for he loves him as his 
 own son, and when I represented your prior claim he com- 
 manded — and who may resist the commands of the sover- 
 eign of two worlds, the Son of Ra .? Kings have short 
 memories ; how often did your father hazard his life for 
 him, how many wounds had he received in his service ? 
 For your father's sake he might have spared you such an 
 affront, and such pain." 
 
 * ' And have I myself served him, or not ? " asked the 
 pioneer, flushing darkly. 
 
 **He knows you less," returned Katuti, apologetically. 
 Then she changed her tone to one of sympathy, and went 
 on : 
 
 ** How was it that you, young as you were, aroused his 
 dissatisfaction, his dislike, nay, his " 
 
 *' His what? " asked the pioneer, trembling with excite- 
 ment. 
 
 " Let that pass!" said the widow, soothingly. "The 
 favor and disfavor of kings are those of the gods. Men 
 rejoice in the one or bow to the other." 
 
 "What feeling have I aroused in Rameses beside dis- 
 satisfaction and dislike ? I insist on knowing ! " said 
 Paaker, with increasing vehemence. 
 
 "You alarm me," the widow declared. "And in 
 speaking ill of you, his ^nly motive was to raise his 
 favorite in Nefert's estimation." 
 
 "Tell me what he said ! " cried the pioneer ; cold drops 
 stood on his brown forehead, and his glaring eyes showed 
 the white eyeballs. 
 
 Katuti quailed before him, and drew back, but he fol- 
 lowed her, seized her arm, and said huskily : 
 
 "What did he say?" 
 
UARDA. 199 
 
 **Paaker ! ' cried the widow in pain and indignation. 
 ** Let me go. It is better for you that I should not repeat 
 the words with which Rameses sought to turn Nefert's 
 heart from you. Let me go, and remember to whom you 
 are speaking." 
 
 But Paaker gripped her elbow the tighter, and urgently 
 repeated his question. 
 
 "Shame upon you!" cried Katuti, **you are hurting 
 me ; let me go ! You will not till you have heard what 
 he said ? Have your own way then, but the words are 
 forced from me ! He said that if he did not know your 
 mother Setchem for an honest woman, he never would 
 have believed you were your father's son — for you were 
 no more like him than an owl to an eagle." 
 
 Paaker took his hand from Katuti's arm. **Andso — 
 and so " he muttered with pale lips. 
 
 "Nefert took your part, and I too, but in vain. Do 
 not take the words too hardly. Your father was a man 
 without an equal, and Rameses cannot forget that we 
 are related to the old royal house. His grandfather, his 
 father, and himself are usurpers, and there is one now 
 living who has a better right to the throne than he has. " 
 
 * * The Regent Ani I " exclaimed Paaker, decisively. 
 
 Katuti nodded ; she went up to the pioneer and said in 
 a whisper : 
 
 ** I put myself in your hands, though I know they may 
 be raised against me. But you are my natural ally, for 
 that same act of Rameses that disgraced and injured you 
 made me a partner in the designs of Ani. The king 
 robbed you of your bride, me of my daughter. He filled 
 your soul with hatred for your arrogant rival, and mine 
 with passionate regret for the lost happiness of my child. 
 I feel the blood of Hatasu in my veins, and my spirit is 
 high enough to govern men. It was I who roused the 
 sleeping ambition of the regent — I who directed his gaze 
 to the throne to which he was destined by the gods. The 
 ministers of the gods, the priests, are favorably disposed 
 to us ; we have " 
 
 At this moment there was a commotion in the garden, 
 and a breathless slave rushed in, exclaiming : 
 
 "The regent is at the gate ! " 
 
 Paaker stood in stupid perplexity, but he collected him- 
 
200 ' UARDA. 
 
 self with an effort and would have gone, but Katuti de- 
 tained him. 
 
 " I will go forward to meet Ani," she said. " He will 
 be rejoiced to see you, for he esteems you highly, and 
 was a friend of your father's." 
 
 As soon as Katuti had left the hall, the dwarf Nemu 
 crept out of his hiding-place, placed himself in front of 
 Paaker, and asked, boldly : 
 
 "Well? Did I give thee good advice yesterday, or 
 no ? " 
 
 But Paaker did not answer him ; he pushed him aside 
 with his foot, and walked up and down in deep thought. 
 
 Katuti met the regent half way down the garden. He 
 held a manuscript roll in his hand, and greeted her from 
 afar with a friendly wave of his hand. 
 
 The widow looked at him with astonishment. 
 
 It seemed to her that he had grown taller and younger 
 since the last time she had seen him. 
 
 "Hail to your highness ! " she cried half in joke, half 
 reverently, and she raised her hands in supplication, as if 
 he already wore the double crown of Upper and Lower 
 Egypt. "Have the nine* Gods met you? Have the 
 Hathors kissed you in your slumbers ? This is a white 
 day — a lucky day — I read it in your face ! " 
 
 "That is reading a cipher!" said Ani gayly, but with 
 dignity. " Read this dispatch." 
 
 Katuti took the roll from his hand, read it through, and 
 then returned it. 
 
 "The troops you equipped have conquered the allied 
 armies of the Ethiopians," she said, gravely, " and are 
 bringing their prince in fetters to Thebes, with endless 
 treasure, and ten thousand prisoners ! The gods be 
 praised ! " 
 
 "And above all things I thank the gods that my Gen- 
 eral Scheschenk — my foster-brother and friend — is return- 
 ing well and unwounded from the war. I think, Katuti, 
 that the figures in our dreams are this day taking forms 
 of flesh and blood ! " 
 
 * The Egyptians commonly classed their Gods in Triads, and 3X3==9t 
 but also sometimes in groups of 8, 13 and 15. In the tale of " The Twc 
 Brothers," the Holy Nine meet Batau, and make a wife for him. 
 
UARDA. 201 
 
 ** They are growing to the stature of heroes ! " cried the 
 widow. *'And you yourself, my lord, have been stirred 
 by the breath of the Divinity. You walk hke the worthy 
 son of Ra, the courage of Menth beams in your eyes, and 
 you smile like the victorious Horus." 
 
 ''Patience, patience, my friend," saidAni, moderating 
 the eagerness of the widow ; "now, more than ever, we 
 must cling to my principle of overestimating the strength 
 of our opponents, and underrating our own. Nothing has 
 succeeded on which I had counted, and on the contrary 
 many things have justified my fears that they would fail. 
 The beginning of the end is hardly dawning on us." 
 
 "But successes, like misfortunes, never come singly," 
 replied Katuti. 
 
 "I agree with you," said Ani. "The events of life 
 seem to me to fall in groups. Every misfortune brings its 
 fellow with it — like every piece of luck. Can you tell me 
 of a second success ? " 
 
 "Women win no battles," said the widow, smiling. 
 "But they win allies, and I have gained a powerful one." 
 
 "A god or an army ? " asked Ani. 
 
 "Something between the two," she replied. *' Paaker, 
 the king's chief pioneer, has joined us ; " and she briefly 
 related to Ani the history of her nephew's love and 
 hatred. 
 
 Ani listened in silence ; then he said with an expression 
 of much disquiet and anxiety : 
 
 "This man is a follower of Rameses, and must shortly 
 return to him. Many may guess at our projects, but every 
 additional person who knows them may become a traitor. 
 You are urging me, forcing me, forward too soon. A 
 thousand well-prepared enemies are less dangerous than 
 one untrustworthy ally " 
 
 " Paaker is secured to us," replied Katuti, positively. 
 
 " Who will answer for him? " asked Ani. 
 
 "His life shall be in your hand," replied Katuti 
 gravely. "My shrewd little dwarf Nemu knows that he 
 has committed some secret crime, which the law punishes 
 by death." 
 
 The regent's countenance cleared. 
 
 "That alters the matter," he said, with satisfaction. 
 
 "Has he committed a murder ? " 
 
309 UARDA. 
 
 **No," said Katuti, "but Nemu has sworn to reveal 
 to you alone all that he knows. He is wholly devoted to 
 us." 
 
 ' ' Well and good, " said Ani, thoughtfully, ' * but he too is 
 imprudent — much too imprudent. You are like a rider, 
 who to win a wager urges his horse to leap over spears. 
 If he falls on the points, it is he that suffers ; you let him 
 lie there, and go on your way." 
 
 **0r are impaled at the same time as the noble horse," 
 said Katuti, gravely. "You have more to win, and at 
 the same time more to lose than we ; but the meanest 
 clings to life ; and I must tell you, Ani, that I work for 
 you, not to win anything through your success, but because 
 you are as dear to me as a brother, and because I see in 
 you the embodiment of my father's claims which have 
 been trampled on." 
 
 Ani gave her his hand and asked : 
 
 *'Did you also as my friend speak to Bent-Anat ? Do 
 I interpret your silence rightly ? " 
 
 Katuti sadly shook her head ; but Ani went on : " Yester- 
 day that would have decided me to give her up ; but to-day 
 my courage has risen, and if the Hathors be my friends 
 I may yet win her." 
 
 With these words he went in advance of the widow into 
 the hall, where Paaker was still walking uneasily up 
 and down. 
 
 The pioneer bowed low before the regent, who returned 
 the greeting with a half-haughty, half-familiar waveofthe 
 hand, and when he had seated himself in an arm-chair, po- 
 litely addressed Paaker as the son of a friend, and a rela- 
 tion of his family. 
 
 * ' All the world, " he said, * ' speaks of your reckless cour- 
 age. Men like you are rare ; I have none such attached to 
 me. I wish you stood nearer to me ; but Rameses will not 
 
 part with you, although — although In point of fact 
 
 your office has two aspects ; it requires the daring of a 
 soldier, and the dexterity of ascribe. No one denies that you 
 have the first, but the second — the sword and the reed-pen 
 are very different weapons, one requires supple fingers, the 
 other a sturdy fist. The king used to complain of your 
 reports — is he better satisfied with them now ? " 
 
 ** I hope so," replied the Mohar; "my brother Horus 
 
UARDA. 203 
 
 !s a practiced writer, and accompanies me in my 
 journeys." 
 
 "That is well," said Ani. ** If I had the management 
 of affairs I should treble your staff, and give you four — 
 five — six scribes under you, who would be entirely at your 
 command, and to whom you could give the materials for 
 the reports to be sent out. Your office demands that you 
 should be both brave and circumspect ; these characteristics 
 are rarely united ; but there are scriveners by hundreds in 
 the temples." 
 
 " So it seems to me," said Paaker. 
 
 Ani looked down meditatively, and continued — " Ram- 
 eses is fond of comparing you with your father. That is 
 unfair, for he — who is now with the justified — was with- 
 out an equal ; at once the bravest of heroes and the most 
 skillful of scribes. You are judged unjustly ; and it grieves 
 me all the more that you belong, through your mother, to 
 my poor but royal house. We will see whether I cannot 
 succeed in putting you in the right place. For the pres- 
 ent you are required in Syria almost as soon as you have 
 got home. You have shown that you are a man who does 
 not fear death, and who can render good service, and you 
 might now enjoy your wealth in peace with your wife. " 
 
 "I am alone," said Paaker. 
 
 "Then, if you come home again, let Katuti seek you 
 out the prettiest wife in Egypt," said the regent, smiling. 
 " She sees herself every day in her mirror, and must be a 
 connoisseur in the charms of women." 
 
 Ani rose with these words, bowed to Paaker with 
 studied friendliness ; gave his hand to Katuti, and said as 
 he left the hall : 
 
 "Send me to-day the — the handkerchief — by the dwarf 
 Nemu." 
 
 When he was already in the garden, he turned once 
 more and said to Paaker : 
 
 "Some friends are supping with me to-day ; pray let me 
 see you too." 
 
 The pioneer bowed ; he dimly perceived that he was en- 
 tangled in invisible toils. Up to the present moment he 
 had been proud of his devotion to his calling, of his duties 
 as Mohar ; and now he had discovered that the king, 
 whos^ Qhain of honor hung round his neck, iAndQrvalue4 
 
204 
 
 UARDA. 
 
 him, and perhaps only suffered him to fill his arduous and 
 dangerous post for the sake of his father, while he, notwith- 
 standing the temptations offered him in Thebes by his 
 wealth, had accepted it willingly and disinterestedly. He 
 knew that his skill with a pen was small, but that was no 
 reason why he should be despised ; often had he wished 
 that he could reconstitute his office exactly as Ani had 
 suggested, but his petition to be allowed a secretary had 
 been rejected by Rameses. What he spied out, he was 
 told was to be kept secret, and no one could be responsible 
 for the secrecy of another. 
 
 As his brother Horus grew up, he had followed him as 
 his obedient assistant, even after he had married a wife, 
 who with her child remained in Thebes under the care of 
 Setchem. 
 
 He was now filling Paaker's place in Syria during his 
 absence ; badly enough, as the pioneer thought, and yet 
 not without credit ; for the fellow knew how to write 
 smooth words with a graceful pen. 
 
 Paaker, accustomed to solitude, became absorbed in 
 thought, forgetting everything that surrounded him ; even 
 the widow herself, who had sunk on to a couch, and was 
 observing him in silence. 
 
 He gazed into vacancy, while a crowd of sensations 
 rushed confusedly through his brain. He thought himself 
 cruelly ill-used, and he felt too that it was incumbent on 
 him to become the instrument of a terrible fate to some 
 other person. All was dim and chaotic in his mind, his 
 love merged in his hatred ; only one thing was clear and 
 unclouded by doubt, and that was his strong conviction 
 that Nefert would be his. 
 
 The gods indeed were in deep disgrace with him. How 
 much he had depended upon them — and with what a 
 grudging hand they had rewarded him ; he knew of but 
 one indemnification for his wasted life, and in that he be- 
 lieved so firmly that he counted on it as if it were capital 
 which he had invested in sound securities. But at this 
 moment his resentful feelings embittered the sweet dream 
 of hope, and he strove in vain for calmness and clear- 
 sightedness ; when such cross-roads as these met, no 
 amulet, no divining rod could guide him ; here he must 
 think for himself, and beat his own road before he could 
 
UARDA. 205 
 
 walk in it ; and yet he could think out no plan, and arrive 
 at no decision. 
 
 He grasped his burning forehead in his hands, and 
 started from his brooding reverie, to remember where he 
 was, to recall his conversation with the mother of the 
 woman he loved, and her saying that she was capable of 
 guiding men. 
 
 **She perhaps may be able to think for me," he mut- 
 tered to himself " Action suits me better." 
 
 He slowly went up to her and said : 
 
 *'So it is settled then — we are confederates." 
 
 "Against Rameses, and for Ani," she replied, giving 
 him her slender hand. 
 
 " In a few days I start for Syria, meanwhile you can 
 make up your mind what commissions you have to give 
 me. The money for your son shall be conveyed to you 
 to-day before sunset. May I not pay my respects to 
 Nefert ? " 
 
 ** Not now ; she is praying in the temple." 
 
 " But to-morrow ? " 
 
 "Willingly, my dear friend She will be delighted to 
 see you, and to thank you." 
 
 "Farewell, Katuti." 
 
 " Call me mother," said the widow, and she waved her 
 veil to him as a last farewell. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 As soon as Paaker had disappeared behind the shrubs, 
 Katuti struck a little sheet of metal, a slave appeared, and 
 Katuti asked her whether Nefert had returned from the 
 temple. 
 
 "Her litter is just now at the side gate," was the 
 answer. 
 
 " I a wait her here, " said the widow. The slave went 
 away, and a few minutes later Nefert entered the hall. 
 
 "You want me?" she said, and after kissing her 
 mother she sank upon her couch. "I am tired," she 
 exclaimed ; "Nemu, take a fan and keep the flies off me." 
 
 The dwarf sat down on a cushion by her couch, and 
 
2o6 UARDA. 
 
 began to wave the semi-circular fan of ostrich-feathers ; 
 but Katuti put him aside and said : 
 
 **You can leave us for the present ; we want to speak 
 to each other in private." 
 
 The dwarf shrugged his shoulders and got up, but 
 Nefert looked at her mother with an irrepressible appeal. 
 
 " Let him stay," she said, as pathetically as if her whole 
 happiness depended upon it. '•' The flies torment me so, 
 and Nemu always holds his tongue." 
 
 She patted the dwarfs big head as if he were a large 
 dog, and called the white cat, which with a graceful leap 
 sprang on to her shoulder and stood there with its back 
 arched, to be stroked by her slender fingers. 
 
 Nemu looked inquiringly at his mistress, but Katuti 
 turned to her daughter, and said, in a warning voice : 
 
 *' I have very serious things to discuss with you." 
 
 *' Indeed ? " said her daughter, "but I cannot be stung 
 by the flies all the same. Of course, if you wish it " 
 
 " Nemu may stay then," said Katuti, and her voice had 
 the tone of that of a nurse who gives way to a naughty 
 child. '' Besides, he knows what I have to talk about." 
 
 "There, now!" said Nefert, kissing the head of the 
 white cat, and she gave the fan back to the dwarf. 
 
 The widow looked at her daughter with sincere compas- 
 sion; she went up to her and looked for the thousandth time 
 in admiration at her pretty face. 
 
 "Poor child," she sighed, "how willingly I would 
 spare you the frightful news which sooner or later you 
 must hear — must bear. Leave off your foolish play with 
 the cat, I have things of the most hideous gravity to tell 
 you." 
 
 ' ' Speak on, " replied Nefert. ' * To-day I cannot fear the 
 worst. Mena's star, the haruspex told me, stands under 
 the sign of happiness, and I inquired of the oracle in the 
 temple of Besa, and heard that my husband is prospering. 
 I have prayed in the temple till I am quite content. Only 
 4speak ! — I know my brother's letter from the camp had 
 no good news in it ; the evening before last I saw you 
 had been crying, and yesterday you did not look well ; 
 even the pomegranate flowers in your hair did not suit 
 yw." 
 
 "Your brother," sighed Katuti, "has occasioned me 
 
UARDA. 207 
 
 great trouble, and we might through him have suffered 
 deep dishonor " 
 
 < < We — dishonor ? " exclaimed Nefert, and she nervously 
 clutched at the cat. 
 
 "Your brother lost enormous sums at play ; to recover 
 them he pledged the mummy of your father " 
 
 •* Horrible ! " cried Nefert. "We must appeal at once 
 to the king ; I will write to him myself ; for Mena's sake 
 he will hear me. Rameses is great and noble, and will 
 not let a house that is faithfully devoted to him fall into 
 disgrace through the reckless folly of a boy. Certainly I 
 will write to him." 
 
 She said this in a voice of most childlike confidence, and 
 desired Nemu to wave the fan more gently, as if this con- 
 cern were settled. 
 
 In Katuti's heart surprise and indignation at the unnat- 
 ural indifference of her daughter were struggling together ; 
 but she withheld all blame, and said carelessly : 
 
 "We are already released, for my nephew Paaker, as 
 soon as he heard what threatened us, offered me his help — 
 freely and unprompted, from pure goodness of heart and 
 attachment. " 
 
 "How good of Paaker !" cried Nefert. " He was so 
 fond of me, and you know, mother, I always stood up for 
 him. No doubt it was for my sake that he behaved so 
 generously ! " 
 
 The young wife laughed, and pulling the cat's face close 
 to her own, held her nose to its cool little nose, stared into 
 its green eyes, and said, imitating childish talk : 
 
 "There, now, pussy — how kind people are to your little 
 mistress. " 
 
 Katuti was vexed at this fresh outburst of her daughter's 
 childish impulses. 
 
 " It seems to me," she said, " that you might leave off 
 playing and trifling when I am talking of such serious 
 matters. I have long since observed that the fate of the 
 house to which your father and mother belong is a matter 
 of perfect indifference to you ; and yet you would have to 
 seek shelter and protection under its roof if your hus- 
 band " 
 
 "Well, mother?" asked Nefert, raising herself and 
 breathing more quickly. 
 
108 UARDA. 
 
 As soon as Katuti perceived her daughter's agitation she 
 regretted that she had not more gently led up to the news 
 she had to break to her ; for she loved her daughter, and 
 knew that it would give her keen pain. 
 
 So she went on more sympathetically : 
 
 "You boasted in joke that people are good to you, and 
 it is true ; you win hearts by your mere being — by only 
 being what you are. And Mena too loved you tenderly ; 
 but ' absence,' says the proverb, ' is the one real enemy,' 
 and Mena " 
 
 ** What has Mena done ? " Once more Nefert interrupted 
 her mother, and her nostrils quivered. 
 
 "Mena," said Katuti, decidedly, "has violated the 
 truth and esteem which he owes you — he has trodden 
 them under foot, and " 
 
 " Mena ? " exclaimed the young wife with flashing eyes ; 
 she flung the cat on the floor, and sprang from her couch. 
 
 "Yes — Mena," said Katuti, firmly. "Your brother 
 writes that he would have neither silver nor gold for his 
 spoil, but took the fair daughter of the prince of the Danaids 
 into his tent. The ignoble wretch ! " 
 
 " Ignoble wretch ! " cried Nefert, and two or three times 
 she repeated her mother's last words. Katuti drew back 
 in horror, for her gentle, docile, childlike daughter stood 
 before her absolutely transfigured beyond all recognition. 
 
 She looked like a beautiful demon of revenge ; her eyes 
 sparkled, her breath came quickly, her limbs quivered, 
 and with extraordinary strength and rapidity she seized 
 the dwarf by the hand, led him to the door of one of the 
 rooms which opened out of the hall, threw it open, pushed 
 the little man over the threshold, and closed it sharply 
 upon him; then with white lips she came up to her 
 mother. 
 
 "An ignoble wretch did you call him?" she cried out 
 with a hoarse, husky voice, "an ignoble wretch ! Take 
 back your words, mother, take back your words, or " 
 
 Katuti turned paler and paler, and said soothingly : 
 
 " The words may sound hard, but he has broken faith 
 with you, and openly dishonored you." 
 
 "And shall I believe it? "said Nefert, with a scornful 
 laugh. ' ' Shall I believe it, because a scoundrel has written 
 it, who has pawned his father's body and the honor of his 
 
UARDA. 209 
 
 family ; because it is told you by that noble and brave 
 gentleman ! why a box on the ears from Mena would be 
 the death of him. Look at me, mother, here are my eyes, 
 and if that table there were Mena's tent, and you were 
 Mena, and you took the fairest woman living by the hand 
 and led her into it, and these eyes saw it — ay, over and 
 over again — I would laugh at it — as I laugh at it now ; and 
 I should say : * Who knows what he may have to give her, 
 or to say to her,' and not for one instant would I doubt 
 his truth ; for your son is false and Mena is true. Osiris 
 broke faith with Isis * — but Mena may be favored by a 
 hundred women — he will take none to his tent but me ! " 
 
 "Keep your belief," said Katuti, bitterly, ''but leave 
 me mine." 
 
 ''Yours? " said Nefert, and her flushed cheeks turned 
 pale again. "What do you believe ? You listen to the 
 worst and basest things that can be said of a man who has 
 overloaded you with benefits ! A wretch, bah ! an ignoble 
 wretch ? Is that what you call a man who lets you dis- 
 pose of his estate as you please ? " 
 
 " Nefert," cried Katuti, angrily, " I will " 
 
 " Do what you will," interrupted her indignant daughter, 
 " but do not villify the generous man who has never hin- 
 dered you from throwing away his property on your son's 
 debts and your own ambition. Since the day before yes- 
 terday I have learned that we are not rich ; and I have re- 
 flected, and I have asked myself what has become of our 
 corn and our cattle, of our sheep and the rents from the 
 farmers. The wretch's estate was not so contemptible ; 
 but I tell you plainly I should be unworthy to be the wife 
 of the noble Mena if I allowed any one to villify his name 
 under his own roof. Hold to your belief, by all means, 
 but one of us must quit this house — you or I." 
 
 At these words Nefert broke into passionate sobs, threw 
 herself on her knees by her couch, hid her face in the 
 cushions, and wept convulsively and without intermission. 
 
 Katuti stood behind her, startled, trembling, and not 
 knowing what to say. Was this her gentle, dreamy 
 daughter ? Had ever a daughter dared to speak thus to 
 her mother? But was she right or was Nefert? This 
 question was the pressing one ; she knelt down by the side 
 * See Plutarch, Isis and Osiris. 
 14 
 
2IO UARDA. 
 
 of the young wife, put her arm round her, drew her head 
 against her bosom, and whispered pitifully : 
 
 "You cruel, hard-hearted child ; forgive your poor, mis- 
 erable mother, and do not make the measure of her 
 wretchedness overflow." 
 
 Then Nefert rose, kissed her mother's hand, and went 
 silently k\io her own room. 
 
 Katuti remained alone ; she felt as if a dead hand held 
 her heart in its icy grasp, and she muttered to herself : 
 
 "An! is right — nothing turns to good excepting that 
 from which we expect the worst. " 
 
 She held her hand to her head, as if she had heard 
 something too strange to be believed. Her heart went 
 after her daughter, but instead of sympathizing with her 
 she collected all her courage, and deliberately recalled all 
 the reproaches that Nefert had heaped upon her. She did 
 not spare herself a single word, and finally she murmured 
 to herself: "She can spoil everything. For Mena's sake 
 she will sacrifice me and the whole world ; Mena and 
 Rameses are one, and if she discovers what we are plot- 
 ting she will betray us without a moment's hesitation. 
 Hitherto all has gone on without her seeing it, but to-day 
 something has been unsealed in her — an eye, a tongue, 
 an ear, which have hitherto been closed. She is like a 
 deaf and dumb person, who by a sudden fright is restored 
 to speech and hearing. My favorite child will become the 
 spy of my actions, and my judge." 
 
 She gave no utterance to the last words, but she seemed 
 to hear them with her inmost ear ; the voice that could 
 speak to her thus, startled and frightened her, and solitude 
 was in itself a torture ; she called the dwarf, and desired 
 him to have her litter prepared, as she intended going to 
 the temple, and visiting the wounded who had been sent 
 home from Syria. 
 
 "And the handkerchief for the regent ? " asked the little 
 man. 
 
 "It was a pretext," said Katuti. " He wishes to speak 
 to you about the matter which you know of with regard 
 to Paaker. What is it?" 
 
 "Do not ask," replied Nemu, " I ought not to betray it. 
 By Besa, who protects us dwarfs, it is better that thou 
 shouldst never know it." 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
UARDA. 211 
 
 "For to-day I have learned enough that is new to me," 
 retorted Katuti. * ' Now go to Ani, and if you are able to 
 throw Paaker entirely into his power — good — I will give — 
 but what have I to give away ? I will be grateful to you ; 
 and when we have gained our end I will set you free and 
 make you rich." 
 
 Nemu kissed her robe, and said, in a low voice : ** What 
 is the end ? " 
 
 **You know what Ani is striving for," answered the 
 widow. ** And I have but one wish I " 
 
 ''And that is ?" 
 
 " To see Paaker in Mena's place." 
 
 "Then our wishes are the same," said the dwarf, and 
 he left the hall. 
 
 Katuti looked after him, and muttered : 
 
 "It must be so. For if everything remains as it was 
 and Mena comes home and demands a reckoning — it is 
 not to be thought of ! It must not be I " 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 As Nemu, on his way back from his visit to Ani, ap- 
 proached his mistress' house, he was detained by a boy, 
 who desired him to follow him to the strangers' quarter. 
 Seeing him hesitate, the messenger showed him the ring 
 of his mother Hekt, who had come into the town on busi- 
 ness, and wanted to speak with him. 
 
 Nemu was tired, for he was not accustomed to walking ; 
 his ass was dead, and Katuti could not afford to give him 
 another. Half of Mena's beasts had been sold, and the 
 remainder barely sufficed for the field-labor. 
 
 At the corners of the busiest streets, and on the market- 
 places, stood boys with asses which they hired out for a 
 small sum ; * but Nemu had parted with his last money for 
 
 * In the streets of modern Egyptian towns asses stand saddled for 
 hire. On the monuments only foreigners are represented as riding on 
 asses, but these beasts are mentioned in almost everv list of the posses- 
 sions of the nobles, even in very early times, and the number is often 
 considerable. There is a picture extant of a rich old man who rides on 
 a seat supported on the backs of two donkeys. Lepsius, Denkmaler, part 
 ti. 126. 
 
-812 UARDA. 
 
 a garment and a new wig, so that he might appear 
 worthily attired before the regent. In former times his 
 pocket had never been empty, for Mena had thrown him 
 many a ring of silver, or even of gold, but his restless and 
 ambitious spirit wasted no regrets on lost luxuries. He 
 remembered those yearsof superfluity with contempt, and 
 as he puffed and panted on his way through the dust he 
 felt himself swell with satisfaction. 
 
 The regent had admitted him to a private interview, and 
 the little man had soon succeeded in riveting his attention ; 
 Ani had laughed till the tears rolled down his cheeks at 
 Nemu's description of Paaker's wild passion, and he had 
 proved himself in earnest over the dwarfs further commu- 
 nications, and had met his demands half way. Nemu felt 
 like a duck hatched on dry land, and put for the first time 
 into water ; like a bird hatched in a cage, and that for the 
 first time is allowed to spread its wings and fly. He would 
 have swam or have flown willingly to death if circum- 
 stances had not set a limit to his zeal and energy. 
 
 Bathed in sweat and coated with dust, he at last reached 
 the gay tent in the strangers' quarter,* where the sorceress 
 Hekt was accustomed to alight when she came over to 
 Thebes. 
 
 He was considering far-reaching projects, dreaming of 
 possibilities, devising subtle plans — rejecting them as too 
 subtle, and supplying their place with others more feasible 
 and less dangerous ; altogether the little diplomatist had 
 no mind for the motley tribes which here surrounded him. 
 He had passed the temple in which the people of Kafi 
 adored their Goddess Astarte,f and the sanctuary of Seth, 
 where they sacrificed to Baal, J without letting himself be 
 disturbed by the dancing devotees or the noise of cymbals 
 
 * Herodotus mentions the Tyrian quarter of Memphis, which lay south- 
 ward from the temple of Ptah, and in which ^et,pi] ' A<f><ToSlT7] , i. e., the 
 foreign Aphrodite was worshiped. Brugsch has identified it with the 
 quarter of the city called the " world of life." 
 
 t Astarte, the great goddess of the Phoenicians, frequently appears on 
 the monuments as Sechet. At Edfu she is represented with the lioness- 
 head, and drives a chariot drawn by horses. Her name frequently oc- 
 curs in papyri of the time of our story with that of Rameses H., as well 
 as of a favorite horse and dog of the king's. 
 
 X According to the papyrus Sallier I., the Hyksos-king Apepi-Apophi» 
 "chose Seth for his lord, and worshiped no other god in Egypt." la 
 
UARDA. 
 
 213 
 
 and music which issued from their inclosures. The tents 
 and slightly-built wooden houses of the dancing girls did 
 not tempt him. Besides their inhabitants, who in the 
 evening tricked themselves out in tinsel finery to lure the 
 youth of Thebes into extravagance and folly, and spent 
 their days in sleeping till sundown, only the gambling 
 booths drove a brisk business ; and the guard of police had 
 much trouble to restrain the soldier, who had staked and 
 lost all his prize-money, or the sailor, who thought himself 
 cheated, from such outbreaks of rage and despair as must 
 end in bloodshed. Drunken men lay in front of the tav- 
 erns, and others were doing their utmost, by repeatedly 
 draining their beakers, to follow their example. 
 
 Nothing was yet to be seen of the various musicians, 
 jugglers, fire-eaters, serpent-charmers, and conjurers, who 
 in the evening displayed their skill in this part of the town, 
 which at all times had the aspect of a never-ceasing fair. 
 But these delights, which Nemu had passed a thousand 
 times, had never had any temptation for him. Women 
 and gambling were not to his taste ; that which could be 
 had simply for the taking, without trouble or exertion, 
 offered no charms to his fancy ; he had no fear of the ridi- 
 cule of the dancing-women, and their associates — indeed, 
 he occasionally sought them, for he enjoyed a war of words, 
 and he was of opinion that no one in Thebes could beat 
 him at having the last word. Other people, indeed, shared 
 this opinion, and not long before Paaker's steward had 
 said of Nemu : 
 
 "Our tongues are cudgels, but the little one's is a 
 dagger." 
 
 The destination of the dwarf was a very large and gaudy 
 tent, not in any way distinguished from a dozen others in 
 its neighborhood. The opening which led into it was 
 wide, but at present closed by a hanging of coarse stuff. 
 
 later times, the Semitic god Baal was called Seth by the Egyptians them- 
 selves, a^ we learn from the treaty of peace of Rameses II. with the 
 Cheta, found at Karnak, in which on one side the Seth of the Cheta (a 
 different god), and Astarte are invoked, and on the other the Egyptian 
 gods. The form " Sutech " occurs with " Seth." Seth-Typhon is dis- 
 cussed in '* Etudes egyptologiques " by Diestel, " Voyage d'un Egyptien " 
 by Chabas, " iEgypten und die Biicher Moses " by Ebers, and lately by 
 E. Meyer, in his " Dissertation iiber Seth." The Phoenician religion is 
 exhaustively treated by Moyers. 
 
a 14 UARDA. 
 
 Nemu squeezed himself in between the edge of the tent 
 and the yielding door, and found himself in an almost cir- 
 cular tent with many angles, and with its cone-chaped 
 roof supported on a pole by way of a pillar. 
 
 Pieces of shabby carpet lay on the dusty soil that was 
 the floor of the tent, and on these squatted some gayly- 
 clad girls, whom an old woman was busily engaged in 
 dressing. She painted the finger and toe-nails of the fair 
 ones with orange-colored Hennah, blackened their brows 
 and eyelashes with Mestem* to give brilliancy to their 
 glance, painted their cheeks with white and red, and 
 anointed their hair with scented oil. It was very hot in 
 the tent, and not one of the girls spoke a word ; they sat 
 perfectly still before the old woman, and did not stir a 
 finger, excepting now and then to take up one of the 
 porous clay pitchers, which stood on the ground, for a 
 draught of water, or to put a pill of Kyphi between their 
 painted lips. 
 
 Various musical instruments leaned against the walls of 
 the tent, hand-drums, pipes and lutes, and four tambou- 
 rines lay on the ground ; on the vellum of one slept a cat, 
 whose graceful kittens played with the bells in the hoop 
 of another. 
 
 An old negro woman went in and out of the little back 
 door of the tent, pursued by flies and gnats, while she 
 cleared away a variety of earthen dishes with the remains 
 of food — pomegranate-peelings, bread-crumbs, and garlic- 
 tops — which had been lying on one of the carpets for some 
 hours since the girls had finished their dinner. 
 
 Old Hekt sat apart from the girls on a painted trunk, 
 and she was saying, as she took a parcel from her wallet : 
 
 " Here, take this incense, and burn six seeds of it, and 
 
 the vermin will all disappear " she pointed to the flies 
 
 that swarmed round the platter in her hand. "If you 
 like I will drive away the mice too and draw the snakes 
 out of their holes better than the priests, "f 
 
 ' Keep your magic to yourself," said a girl, in a husky 
 voice. "Since you muttered your words over me, and 
 gave me that drink to make me grow slight and lissom 
 
 * Antimony. 
 
 t Recipes tot extenninating noxious creatures are found in the papyrus 
 in my possession. 
 
UAR®A. 215 
 
 again, I have been shaken to pieces with a cough at night, 
 and turn faint when I am dancing." 
 
 "But look how slender you have grown," answered 
 Hekt, "and your cough will soon be well." 
 
 * ' When I am dead, " whispered the girl to the old woman. 
 "I know that — most of us end so." 
 
 The witch shrugged her shoulders, and perceiving the 
 dwarf she rose from her seat. 
 
 The girls too noticed the little man, and set up the inde- 
 scribable cry, something like the cackle of hens, which is 
 peculiar to Eastern women when something tickles their 
 fancy. Nemu was well known to them, for his mother 
 always stayed in their tent whenever she came to Thebes, 
 and the gayest of them cried out : 
 
 "You are grown, little man, since the last time you 
 were here." 
 
 "So are you," said the dwarf, sharply ; "but only as 
 far as big words are concerned." 
 
 " And you are as wicked as you are small," retorted the 
 girl. 
 
 "Then my wickedness is small too," said the dwarf, 
 laughing, " for I am little enough I Good-morning, girls — 
 may Besa help your beauty. Good-day, mother — you 
 sent for me ? " 
 
 The old woman nodded ; the dwarf perched himself on 
 the chest beside her, and they began to whisper together. 
 
 " How dusty and tired you are," said Hekt. " I do be- 
 lieve you have come on foot in the burning sun." 
 
 "My ass is dead," replied Nemu, "and I have no 
 money to hire a steed." 
 
 "A foretaste of future splendor, " said the old woman, 
 with a sneer. "What have you succeeded in doing ? '' 
 
 "Paaker has saved us," replied Nemu, "and I have 
 just come from a long interview with the regent." 
 
 "Well.?" 
 
 " He will renew your letter of freedom, if you will put 
 Paaker into his power." 
 
 "Good — good. I wish he would make up his mind 
 to come and seek me — in disguise, of course. I 
 would " 
 
 " He is very timid, and it would not be wise to suggest 
 to him anything so unpracticable." 
 
2i6 UARDA. 
 
 " Hm ! ** said Hekt, ''perhaps you are right, for when 
 we have to demand a good deal it is best only to ask for 
 what is feasible. One rash request often altogether spoils 
 the patron's inclination for granting favors." 
 
 " What else has occurred ? " 
 
 " The regents army has conquered the Ethiopians, and 
 is coming home with rich spoils," 
 
 ** People maybe bought with treasure," muttered the 
 old woman, *' good — good ! " 
 
 *'Paaker's sword is sharpened ; I would give no more 
 for my master's life, than I have in my pocket — and you 
 know why I came on foot through the dust." 
 
 ''Well, you can ride home again," replied his mother, 
 giving the little man a small silver ring. "Has the 
 pioneer seen Nefert again ? " 
 
 "Strange things have happened," said the dwarf, and 
 he told his mother what had taken place between Katuti 
 and Nefert. Nemu was a good listener, and had not for- 
 gotten a word of what he had heard. 
 
 The old woman listened to his story with the most 
 eager attention. 
 
 "Well, well," she muttered, "here is another extraordi- 
 nary thing. What is common to all men is generally dis- 
 gustingly similar in the palace and in the hovel. Mothers 
 are everywhere she-apes, who with pleasure let themselves 
 be tormented to death by their children, who repay them 
 badly enough, and the wives generally open their ears 
 wide if any one can tell them of some misbehavior of 
 their husbands I But that is not the way with your mis- 
 tress." 
 
 The old woman looked thoughtful, and then she con- 
 tinued : 
 
 "In point of fact this can be easily explained, and is 
 not at all more extraordinary than it is that those tired 
 girls should sit yawning. You told me once that it was 
 a pretty sight to see the mother and daughter side by side 
 in their chttriot when they goto a festival or the Panegyrai ; 
 Katuti, you said, took care that the colors of their dresses 
 and the flowers in their hair should harmonize. For 
 which of them is the dress first chosen on such occa- 
 sions?" 
 
UARDA. 
 
 217 
 
 ''Always for the lady Katuti, who never wears any but 
 certain colors, " replied Nemu, quickly. 
 
 ** You see," said the witch, laughing, '* indeed it must 
 be so. That mother always thinks of herself first, and of 
 the objects she wishes to gain ; but they hang high, and 
 she treads down everything that is in her way — even her 
 own child — to reach them. She will contrive that Paaker 
 shall be the ruin of Mena, as sure as I have ears to hear 
 with, for that woman is capable of playing any tricks with 
 her daughter, and would marry her to that lame dog yon- 
 der if it would advance her ambitious schemes." 
 
 * ' But Nefert ! " said Nemu, ' * you should have seen her. 
 The dove became a lioness." 
 
 " Because she loves Mena as much as her mother loves 
 herself," answered Hekt. "As the poets say, 'she is full 
 of him.' It is really true of her, there is no room for any- 
 thing else. She cares for one only, and woe to those who 
 come between him and her ! " 
 
 **I have seen other women in love," said Nemu, 
 «'but " 
 
 "But," exclaimed the old witch, with such a snarp 
 laugh that the girls all looked up, "they behave differ- 
 ently to Nefert. I believe you, for there is not one in a 
 thousand that loves as she does. It is a sickness that gives 
 raging pain — like a poisoned arrow in an open wound, and 
 devours all that is near it like a fire-brand, and is harder 
 to cure than the disease which is killing that coughing 
 wench. To be possessed by that demon of anguish is to 
 suffer the torture of the aamned — or else," and her voice 
 sank to softness, "to be more blest than the gods, happy 
 as they are. I know — I know it all ; for I was once one 
 of the possessed, one of the thousand, and even now " 
 
 " Well } " asked the dwarf. 
 
 "Folly!" muttered the witch, stretching herself as if 
 awakening from sleep. "Madness! He — is so long 
 dead, and if he were not it would be all the same to me. 
 All men are alike, and Mena will be like the rest." 
 
 "But Paaker surely is governed by the demon you de- 
 scribe ? " asked the dwarf. 
 
 "May be," replied his mother ; "but he is self-willed to 
 madness. He would simply give his life for the thing be- 
 qausQ it is 4wied him. If your mistress Nefert wer^ his^ 
 
2i8 UARDA. 
 
 perhaps he might be easier ; but what is the use of chatter- 
 ing? I must go over to the gold tent, where every one 
 goes now who has any money in their purse, to speak to 
 the mistress " 
 
 *'What do you want with her? " interrupted Nemu. 
 
 " Little Uarda, over there," said the old woman, ** will 
 soon be quite well again. You have seen her lately ; is 
 she not grown beautiful, wonderfully beautiful ? Now I 
 shall see what the good woman will offer me if I take 
 Uarda to her. The girl is as light-footed as a gazelle, and 
 with good training would learn to dance in a very few 
 weeks." 
 
 Nemu turned perfectly white. 
 
 *' That you shall not do," said he, positively. 
 
 * 'And why not ? " asked the old woman, *'if it pays 
 well." 
 
 * ' Because I forbid it, " said the dwarf, in a choked voice. 
 
 "Bless me," laughed the woman ; "you want to play 
 my lady Nefert, and expect me to take the part of her 
 mother Katuti. But, seriously, having seen the child 
 again, have you any fancy for her ? " 
 
 "Yes," replied Nemu. " If we gain our end, Katuti 
 will make me free, and make me rich. Then I will buy 
 Pin em's grandchild, and take her for my wife. I will 
 build a house near the hall of justice, and give the com- 
 plainants and defendants private advice, like the hunch- 
 back Sent, who now drives through the streets in his own 
 chariot. " 
 
 " Hm ! " said his mother, " that might have done very 
 well, but perhaps it is too late. When the child had fever 
 she talked about the young priest who was sent from the 
 House of Seti by Ameni. He is a fine tall fellow, and 
 took a great interest in her ; he is a gardener's son named 
 Pentaur. " 
 
 "Pentaur?" said the dwarf. "Pentaur? He has the 
 haughty air and the expression of the old Mohar, and 
 would be sure to rise ; but they are going to break his 
 proud neck for him." 
 
 "So much the better," said the old woman. "Uarda 
 would be just the wife for you, she is good and steady, 
 and no one knows " 
 
 * * What ? " said Nemu. 
 
UARDA. 219 
 
 " Who her mother was — for she was not one of us. She 
 came here from foreign parts when she died, and she left a 
 trinket with strange letters on it. We must show it to one 
 of the prisoners of war, after you have got her safe ; per- 
 haps they could make out the queer inscription. She 
 comes of a good stock, that I am certain ; for Uarda is the 
 very living image of her mother, and as soon as she was 
 born she looked like the child of a great man. You smile, 
 you idiot ! Why, thousands of infants have been in my 
 hands, and if one was brought to me wrapped in rags I 
 could tell if its parents were noble or base-born. The 
 shape of the foot shows it — and other marks. Uarda may 
 stay where she is, and I will help you. If anything new 
 occurs let me know." 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 When Nemu, riding on an ass this time, reached home, 
 he found neither his mistress nor Nefert within. 
 
 The former was gone, first to the temple, and then into 
 the town ; Nefert, obeying an irresistible impulse, had 
 gone to her royal friend Bent-Anat. 
 
 The king's palace was more like a little town than 
 a house.* The wing in which the regent resided, and 
 which we have already visited, lay away from the river ; 
 while the part of the building which was used by the 
 royal family commanded the Nile. 
 
 It offered a splendid, and at the same time a pleasing 
 prospect to the ships which sailed by at its foot, for it 
 stood, not a huge and solitary mass in the midst of the 
 surrounding gardens, but in picturesque groups of various 
 outline. On each side of a large structure, which con- 
 tained the state-rooms and banqueting hall, three rows of 
 
 * The view accepted by many writers that the temples were also the 
 king's palace, is erroneous. In the best-preserved temples, as at Dendera 
 and Edfu, we know the purpose of the several rooms, and they were all 
 devoted to the service of the gods. We learn from the monuments that 
 the kings inhabited extensive buildings surrounded by gardens, and con- 
 structed of light materials. The palaces resembled, m fact, the houses 
 of the nobles, but were on a larger scale. 
 
220 UARDA. 
 
 pavilions of different sizes extended in symmetrical order. 
 They were connected with each other by colonnades, or 
 by little bridges, under which flowed canals, that watered 
 the gardens and gave the palace-grounds the aspect of a 
 town built on islands. 
 
 The principal part of the castle of the Pharaohs was con- 
 structed of light Nile-mud bricks and elegantly carved 
 wood-work, but the extensive walls which surrounded it 
 were ornamented and fortified with towers, in front of 
 which heavily-armed soldiers stood on guard. 
 
 The walls and pillars, the galleries and colonnades, even 
 the roofs, blazed in many-colored paints, and at every gate 
 stood tall masts, from which red and blue flags fluttered 
 when the king was residing there. Now they stood up 
 with only their brass spikes, which were intended to inter- 
 cept and conduct the lightning. 
 
 To the right of the principal building, and entirely sur- 
 rounded with thick plantations of trees, stood the house of 
 the royal ladies, some mirrored in the lake which they sur- 
 rounded at a greater or less distance. In this part of the 
 grounds were the king's storehouses in endless rows, 
 while behind the center building, in which the Pharaoh 
 resided, stood the barracks for his body-guard and the 
 treasuries. The left wing was occupied by the officers of 
 the household, the innumerable servants and the horses 
 and chariots of the sovereign. 
 
 In spite of the absence of the king himself, brisk activity 
 n;igned in the palace of Rameses, for a hundred gardeners 
 M'atered the turf, the flower-borders, the shrubs and trees ; 
 companies of guards passed hither and thither ; horses 
 were being trained and broken ; and the princess' wing 
 was as full as a bee-hive of servants and maids, officers 
 and priests. 
 
 Nefert was well known in this part of the palace. The 
 gate-keepers let her litter pass unchallenged, with low 
 bows ; once in the garden, a lord in waiting received her, 
 and conducted her to the chamberlain, who, after a short 
 delay, introduced her into the sitting-room of the king's 
 favorite daughter. 
 
 Bent-Anat's apartment was on the first floor of the pavil- 
 ion, next to the king's residence. Her dead mother had 
 inhabited these pleasant rooms, and when the princess was 
 
UARDA. 221 
 
 grown up it made the king happy to feel that she was neai 
 him ; so the beautiful house of the wife who had too early 
 departed was given up to her, and at the same time, as 
 she was his eldest daughter, many privileges were con- 
 ceded to her, which hitherto none but queens had enjoyed. 
 
 The large room, in which Nefert found the princess, 
 commanded the river. A doorway, closed with light 
 curtains, opened on to a long balcony with a finely worked 
 balustrade of copper-gilt, to which clung a climbing rose 
 with pink flowers. 
 
 When Nefert entered the room, Bent-Anat was just 
 having the rustling curtain drawn aside by her waiting- 
 women ; for the sun was setting, and at that hour she 
 loved to sit on the balcony, as it grew cooler, and watch 
 with devout meditation the departure of Ra, who, as the 
 gray-haired Tum, vanished behind the western horizon of 
 the Necropolis in the evening to bestow the blessing of 
 light on the under-world. 
 
 Nefert's apartment was far more elegantly appointed 
 than the princess' ; her mother and Men a had surrounded 
 her with a thousand pretty trifles. Her carpets were made 
 of sky-blue and silver brocade from Damascus, the seats 
 and couches were covered with stuff, embroidered in 
 feathers by the Ethiopian women, which looked like the 
 breasts of birds. The images of the Goddess Hathor, 
 which stood on the house-altar, were of an imitation of 
 emerald, which was called Mafkat, and the other little 
 figures, which were placed near the patroness, were of 
 lapis-lazuli, malachite, agate and bronze, overlaid with 
 gold. On her toilet-table stood a collection of salve-boxes, 
 and cups of ebony and ivory finely carved, and everything 
 was arranged with the utmost taste, and exactly suited 
 Nefert herself. 
 
 Bent-Anat's room also suited the owner. 
 
 It was high and airy, and its furniture consisted in costly 
 but simple necessaries ; the lower part of the wall was lined 
 with cool tiles of white and violet earthenware, on each of 
 which was pictured a star, and which, all together, formed 
 a tasteful pattern. Above these the walls were covered 
 Mnth a beautiful dark green material brought from Sais, and 
 the same stuff was used to cover the long divans by the 
 wall. Chairs and stools, made of cane, stood round a very 
 
222 UARDA, 
 
 large table in the middle of this room, out of which several 
 others opened ; all handsome, comfortable, and harmoni- 
 ous in aspect, but all betraying that their mistress took 
 small pleasure in trifling decorations. But her chief delight 
 was in finely-grown plants, of which rare and magnificent 
 specimens, artistically arranged on stands, stood in the 
 corners of many of the rooms. In others there were tall 
 obelisks of ebony, which bore saucers for incense, which 
 all the Egyptians loved, and which was prescribed by their 
 physicians to purify and perfume their dwellings. Her 
 simple bedroom would have suited a prince who loved 
 floriculture quite as well as a princess. 
 
 Before all things Bent-Anat loved air and light. The 
 curtains of her windows and doors were only closed when 
 the position of the sun absolutely required it ; while in 
 Nefert's rooms, from morning till evening, a dim twilight 
 was maintained. 
 
 The princess went affectionately toward the charioteer's 
 wife, who bowed low before her at the threshold ; she took 
 her chin with her right hand, kissed her delicate narrow 
 forehead, and said : 
 
 "Sweet creature ! At last you have come uninvited to 
 see lonely me ! It is the first time since our men went 
 away to the war. If Rameses' daughter commands there 
 is no escape, and you come ; but of your own free will " 
 
 Nefert raised her large eyes, moist with tears, with an 
 imploring look, and her glance was so pathetic that Bent- 
 Anat interrupted herself and taking both her hands, 
 exclaimed : 
 
 ** Do you know who must have eyes exactly like yours ? 
 I mean the goddess from whose tears, when they fall on 
 the earth, flowers spring." 
 
 Nefert's eyes fell and she blushed deeply. 
 
 *'I wish," she murmured, **that my eyes might close 
 forever, for I am very unhappy." And two large tears 
 rolled down her cheeks. 
 
 ** What has happened to you, my darling?" asked the 
 princess, sympathetically, and she drew her toward her, 
 putting her arm round her like a sick child. 
 
 Nefert glanced anxiously at the chamberlain, and the 
 ladies in waiting who had entered the room with her, and 
 Bent-Anat understood the look ; she requested her attend- 
 
UARDA. 223 
 
 ants to withdraw, and when she was alone with her sad 
 little friend — "Speak now," she said. "What saddens 
 your heart ? How comes this melancholy expression on 
 your dear baby-face ? Tell me, and I will comfort you, and 
 you shall be my bright, thoughtless plaything- once more." 
 
 "Thy plaything ! " answered Nefert, and a flash of dis- 
 pleasure sparkled in her eyes. "Thou art right to call 
 me so, for I deserve no better name. I have submitted 
 all my life to be nothing but the plaything of others." 
 
 "But, Nefert, I do* not know you again," cried Bent- 
 Anat. " Is this my gentle, amiable dreamer.? " 
 
 "That is the word I wanted," said Nefert, in a low tone. 
 "I slept, and dreamed, and dreamed on— till Mena awoke 
 me ; and when he left me I went to sleep again, and for 
 two whole years I have lain dreaming ; but to-day I have 
 been torn from my dreams so suddenly and roughly that 
 I shall never find any rest again." 
 
 While she spoke heavy tears fell slowly one after another 
 over her cheeks. 
 
 Bent-Anat felt what she saw and heard as deeply as if 
 Nefert were her own suffering child. She lovingly drew 
 the young wife down by her side on the divan, and in- 
 sisted on Nefert's letting her know all that troubled her 
 spirit. 
 
 Katuti's daughter had in the last few hours felt like one 
 born blind, and who suddenly receives his sight. He looks 
 at the brightness of the sun, and the manifold forms of 
 the creation around him, but the beams of the day-star 
 blind his eyes, and the new forms, which he has sought to 
 guess at in his mind, and which throng round him in their 
 rude reality, shock him and pain him. To-day, for the 
 first time, she had asked herself wherefore her mother, 
 and not she herself, was called upon to control the house 
 of which she nevertheless was called the mistress, and the 
 answer had rung in her ears : " Because Mena thinks you 
 incapable of thought and action." He had often called 
 her his little rose, and she felt now that she was neither 
 more nor less than a flower that blossoms and fades, and 
 only charms the eye by its color and beauty. 
 
 " My mother," she said to Bent-Anat, " no doubt loves 
 me, but she has managed badly for Mena, very badly; 
 and I, miserable idiot, slept and dreamed of Mena, and 
 
224 UARDA. 
 
 saw and heard nothing of what was happening to his — 
 to our — inheritance. Now my mother is afraid of my 
 husband, and those whom we fear, says my uncle, we 
 cannot love, and we are always ready to believe evil of 
 those we do not love. So she lends an ear to those people 
 who blame Mena, and say of him that he has driven me 
 out of his heart, and has taken a strange woman to his tent. 
 But it is false and a lie ; and I cannot and will not counte- 
 nance my own mother even, if she embitters and mars what 
 is left to me — what supports me— ^the breath and blood of 
 my life — my love, my fervent love for my husband." 
 
 Bent-Anat had listened to her without interrupting her ; 
 she sat by her for a time in silence. Then she said : 
 
 ''Come out into the gallery ; then I will tell you what I 
 think, and perhaps Toth may pour some helpful counsel 
 into my mind. I love you, and I know you well, and 
 though I am not wise, I have my eyes open and a strong 
 hand. Take it, come with me on to the balcony." 
 
 A refreshing breeze met the two women as they stepped 
 out into the air. It was evening, and a reviving coolness 
 had succeeded the heat of the day. The buildings and 
 houses already cast long shadows, and numberless boats, 
 with the visitors returning from the Necropolis crowded 
 the stream that rolled its swollen flood majestically north- 
 ward. 
 
 Close below lay the verdant garden, which sent odors 
 from the rose-beds up to the princess' balcony. A famous 
 artist had laid it out in the time of Hatasu, and the picture 
 which he had in his mind, when he sowed the seed and 
 planted the young shoots, was now realized, many decades 
 after his death. He had thought of planning a carpet, on 
 which the palace should seem to stand. Tiny streams, in 
 bends and curves, formed the outline of the design, and 
 the shapes they inclosed were filled with plants of every 
 size, form, and color ; beautiful plants of fresh green turf 
 everywhere represented the groundwork of the pattern, 
 and flower-beds and clumps of shrubs stood out from them 
 in harmonious mixture of colors, while the tall and rare 
 trees, of which Hatasu's ships had brought several from 
 Arabia, gave dignity and impressiveness to the whole. 
 
 Clear drops sparkled on leaf and flower and blade, for. 
 ^nly a short time before, the garden by Bent-Anat s house 
 
UARDA. 225 
 
 had been freshly watered. The Nile beyond surrounded 
 an island, where flourished the well-kept sacred grove of 
 Amon. 
 
 The Necropolis on the farther side of the river was also 
 well seen from Bent-Anat's balcony. There stood in long 
 perspective the rows of sphinxes, which led from the land- 
 ing-place of the festal barges to the gigantic buildings of 
 Amenophis III, with its colossi — the hugest in Thebes — to 
 the House of Seti, and to the temple of Hatasu. There 
 lay the long workshops of the embalmers and closely 
 packed homes of the inhabitants of the City of the Dead. 
 In the farthest west rose the Libyan mountains with their 
 innumerable graves, and the valley of the kings' tombs 
 took a wide curve behind, concealed by a spur of the hills. 
 
 The two women looked in silence toward the west. The 
 sun was near the horizon — now it touched it, now it sank 
 behind the hills ; and as the heavens flushed with hues 
 like living gold, blazing rubies, and liquid garnet and 
 amethyst, the evening chant rang out from all the temples, 
 and the friends sank on their knees, hid their faces in the 
 bowery rose garlands that clung to the trellis, and prayed 
 with full hearts. 
 
 When they rose night was spreading over the landscape, 
 for the twilight is short in Thebes. Here and there a rosy 
 cloud fluttered across the darkening sky, and faded grad- 
 ually as the evening star appeared. 
 
 "lam content," said Bent-Anat. "And you? have 
 you recovered your peace of mind ? " 
 
 Nefert shook her head. The princess drew her on to a 
 seat, and sank down beside her. Then she began again : 
 
 " Your heart is sore, poor child ; they have spoiled the 
 past for you, and you dread the future. Let me be frank 
 with you, even if it gives you pain. You are sick, and I 
 must cure you. Will you listen to me ? " 
 
 "Speak on," said Nefert. 
 
 "Speech does not suit me so well as action," replied the 
 princess ; "but I believe I know what you need, and can 
 help you. You love your husband ; duty calls him from 
 you, and you feel lonely and neglected ; that is quite nat- 
 ural. But those whom I love, my father and my brothers, 
 are also gone to the war ; my mother is long since dead ; 
 the noble woman, whom the king left to be my companion, 
 15 
 
^26 UARDA. 
 
 was laid low a few weeks since by sickness. Look what 
 a half-abandoned spot my house is ! Which is the lonelier 
 do you think, you or I ? " 
 
 "1," said Nefert. ** For no one is so lonely as a wife 
 parted from the husband her heart longs after." 
 
 *' But you trust Mena's love for you ? " asked Bent-Anat. 
 
 Nefert pressed her hand to her heart and nodded assent. 
 
 *' And he will return, and with him your happiness." 
 
 *'I hope so," said Nefert, softly. 
 
 "And he who hopes," said Bent-Anat, ** possesses 
 already the joys of the future. Tell me, would you have 
 changed places with the gods so long as IVIena was with 
 you ? No ! Then you are most fortunate, for blissful 
 memories — the joys of the past — are yours at any rate. 
 What is the present ? I speak of it, and it is no more. 
 Now, I ask you, what joys can I look forward to, and 
 what certain happiness am I justified in hoping for? " 
 
 "Thou dost not love anyone," replied Nefert. "Thou 
 dost follow thy own course, calm and undeviating as 
 the moon above us. The highest joys are unknown to 
 thee, but for the same reason thou dost not know the bit- 
 terest pain." 
 
 "What pain ? " asked the princess. 
 
 "The torment of a heart consumed by the fires of 
 Sechet, " replied Nefert. 
 
 The princess looked thoughtfully at the ground, then 
 she turned her eyes eagerly on her friend. 
 
 " You are mistaken," she said ; " I know what love and 
 longing are. But you need only wait till a feast day to 
 wear the jewel that is your own, while my treasure is no 
 more mine than a pearl that I see gleaming at the bottom 
 of the sea." 
 
 "Thou canst love ! " exclaimed Nefert, with joyful excite- 
 ment. "Oh I I thank Hathor that at last she has touched 
 thy heart. The daughter of Rameses need not even send 
 for the diver to fetch the jewel out of the sea ; at a sign 
 from her the pearl will rise of itself, and lie on the sand at 
 her slender feet. " 
 
 Bent-Anat smiled and kissed Nefert's brow. 
 
 "How it excites you," she said, " and stirs your heart 
 and tongue ! If two strings are tuned in harmony, and one 
 is struck, the other sounds, my music-master tells me. I 
 
UAkDA. ^27 
 
 believe you would listen to me till morning if I only talked 
 to you about my love. But it was not for that that we 
 came out on the balcony. Now listen ! I am as lonely as 
 you, I love less happily than you, the House of Seti 
 threatens me with evil times — and yet I can preserve my 
 full confidence in life and my joy in existence. How can 
 you explain this ? " 
 
 ** We are so very different," said Nefert. 
 
 " True," replied Bent-Anat, ** but we are both young-, 
 both women, and both wish to do right. My mother died, 
 and I have had no one to guide me, for I who for the most 
 part need some one to lead me can already command and 
 be obeyed. You had a mother to bring you up, who, 
 when you were still a child, was proud of her pretty little 
 daughter, and let her — as it became her so well — dream 
 and play, without warning her against the dangerous 
 propensity. Then Mena courted you. You love him 
 truly, and in four long years he has been with you but a 
 month or two ; your mother remained with you, and you 
 hardly observed that she was managing your own house 
 for you, and took all the trouble of the household. You 
 had a great pastime of your own — your thoughts of 
 Mena, and scope for a thousand dreams in your distant 
 love. I know it, Nefert ; all that you have seen and heard 
 and felt in these twenty months has centered in him and 
 him alone. Nor is it wrong in itself. The rose-tree here, 
 which clings to my balcony, delights us both ; but if the 
 gardener did not frequently prune it and tie it with palm- 
 bast, in this soil, which forces everything to rapid growth, 
 it would soon shoot up so high that it would cover door 
 and window, and I should sit in darkness. Throw this 
 handkerchief over your shoulders, for the dew falls as it 
 grows cooler, and listen to me a little longer ! The beauti- 
 ful passion of love and fidelity has grown unchecked in your 
 dreamy nature to such a height that it darkens your spirit 
 and your judgment. Love, a true love, it seems tome, 
 should be a noble fruit-tree, and not a rank weed. I do not 
 blame you, for she who should have been the gardener 
 did not heed — and would not heed — what was happening. 
 Look, Nefert, so long as I wore the lock of youth, I too did 
 what I fancied. I never found any pleasure in dreaming, 
 but in wild games with my brothers, in horses, and in fal- 
 
228 UARDA. 
 
 conry ; * they often said I had the spirit of a boy, and 
 indeed I would willingly have been a boy." 
 
 "Not I — never ! *' said Nefert. 
 
 "You are just a rose, my dearest," said Bent-Anat. 
 "Well! when I was fifteen I was so discontented, so in- 
 subordinate and full of all sorts of wild behavior, so 
 dissatisfied, in spite of all the kindness and love that 
 surrounded me — but I will tell you what happened. It 
 is four years ago, shortly before your wedding with 
 Mena ; my father called me to play draughts, f You 
 know how certainly he could beat the most skillful an- 
 tagonist ; but that day his thoughts were wandering, and 
 I won the game twice following. Full of insolent de- 
 light, I jumped up and kissed his great handsome 
 forehead, and cried * The sublime god, the hero, under 
 whose feet the strange nations writhe, to whom the priests 
 and the people pray — is beaten by a girl ! ' He smiled 
 gently, and answered, ' The lords of Heaven are often out- 
 done by the ladies, and Necheb, | the lady of victory, is a 
 woman.' Then he grew graver, and said : ' You call me a 
 god, my child, but in this only do I feel truly godlike, 
 that at every moment I strive to the utmost to prove myself 
 useful by my labors ; here restraining, there promoting, as 
 is needful. § Godlike I can never be but by doing or pro- 
 ducing something great ! ' These words, Nefert, fell like 
 seed in my soul. At last I knew what it was that was 
 wanting to me ; and when, a few weeks later, my father 
 and your husband took the field with a hundred thousand 
 fighting men, I resolved to be worthy of my godlike 
 father, and in my little circle to be of use too ! You do 
 not know all that is done in the houses behind there, 
 
 * In many pap)rri of the period of this narrative the training of falcons 
 is mentioned. 
 
 t At Medinet Habu a picture represents Rameses the Third, not 
 Rameses the Second, playing at draughts with his daughter. 
 
 I The Eileithyia of the Greeks. The goddess of the South, in con- 
 tradistinction to Buto, the goddess of the North. She often flies, in the 
 form of a vulture, as the goddess of victory at the head of the troops led 
 to war by the Pharaoh. 
 
 § The crook-shaped staff, and the whip or scourge are emblems rarely 
 missing from the representations of the Pharaohs, and several of thq 
 gods ; they probably refer to the duty of a king, who must exercise both 
 restraint and coercion. 
 
UARDA. 229 
 
 under my direction. Three hundred girls spin pure flax, 
 and weave it into bands of linen for the wounds of the sol- 
 diers ; numbers of children, and old women, gather plants 
 on the mountains, and others sort them according to the 
 instructions of a- physician ; in the kitchens no banquets 
 are prepared, but fruits are preserved in sugar for the 
 loved ones, and the sick in the camp. Joints of meat are 
 salted, dried, and smoked for the army on its march 
 through the desert. The butler no longer thinks of drink- 
 ing-bouts, but brings me wine in great stone jars ; we pour 
 it into well-closed skins for the soldiers, and the best sorts 
 we put into strong flasks, carefully sealed with pitch, that 
 they may perform the journey uninjured, and warm and 
 rejoice the hearts of our heroes. All that, and much more, 
 I manage and arrange, and my days pass in hard work. 
 The gods send me no bright visions in the night, for after 
 utter fatigue I sleep soundly. But I know that I am of 
 use. I can hold my head proudly, because in some de- 
 gree I resemble my great father ; and if the king thinks 
 of me at all I know he can rejoice in the doings of his 
 child. That is the end of it, Nefert — and I only say, come 
 and join me, work with me, prove yourself of use, and 
 compel Mena to think of his wife, not with affection only, 
 but with pride. " Nefert let her head sink slowly on Bent- 
 Anat's bosom, threw her arms round her neck, and wept 
 like a child. At last she composed herself and said hum- 
 bly : 
 
 •'* Take me to school, and teach me to be useful." 
 *' I knew," said the princess, smiling, "that you only 
 needed a guiding hand. Believe me, you will soon learn 
 to couple content and longing. But now hear this ! At 
 present go home to your mother, for it is late ; and meet 
 her lovingly, for that is the will of the gods. To-morrow 
 morning I will go to see you, and beg Katuti to let you 
 come to me as companion in the place of my lost friend. 
 The day after to-morrow you will come to me in the pal- 
 ace. You can live in the rooms of my departed friena and 
 begin, as she had done, to help me in my work. May 
 these hours be blest to you !" 
 
230 UARDA. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 At the time of this conversation the leech Nebsecht 
 still lingered in front of the hovel of the paraschites, and 
 waited with growing impatience for the old man's return. 
 
 At first he trembled for him ; then he entirely forgot 
 the danger into which he had thrown him, and only- 
 hoped for the fulfillment of his desires, and for wonder- 
 ful revelations through his investigations of the human 
 heart. 
 
 For some minutes he gave himself up to scientific 
 considerations ; but he became more and more agitated by 
 anxiety for the paraschites, and by the exciting vicinity of 
 Uarda. 
 
 For hours he had been alone with her, for her father 
 and grandmother could no longer stop away from their 
 occupations. The former must go to escort prisoners of 
 war to Hermonthis, and the old woman, since her grand- 
 daughter had deen old enough to undertake the small 
 duties of the household, had been one of the wailing- 
 women, who, with hair all disheveled, accompanied the 
 corpse on its way to the grave, weeping and lamenting, 
 and casting Nile-mud on their forehead and breast. 
 Uarda still lay, when the sun was sinking, in front of the 
 hut. 
 
 She looked weary and pale. Her long hair had come 
 undone, and once more got entangled with the straw ot 
 her humble couch. If Nebsecht went near her to feel her 
 pulse or to speak to her she carefully turned her face from 
 him. 
 
 Nevertheless when the sun disappeared behind the rocks 
 he bent over her once more, and said : 
 
 " It is growing cool ; shall I carry you indoors ? " 
 
 "Let me alone," she said, crossly. "I am hot, keep 
 further away. I am no longer ill, and could go indoors 
 by myself if I wished ; but grandmother will be here 
 iirectly." 
 
UARDA. 231 
 
 Nebsechtrose and sat down on a hen-coop that was some 
 paces from Uarda, and asked stammering : 
 
 "Shall I go further off?" 
 
 " Do as you please," she answered, 
 
 ** You are not kind," he said, sadly. 
 
 ** You sit looking at me," said Uarda. **I cannot bear 
 it ; and I am uneasy — for grandfather was quite different 
 this morning from his usual self, and talked strangely about 
 dying, and about the great price that was asked of him for 
 curing me. Then he begged me never to forget him, and 
 was so excited and so strange. He is so long away ; I 
 wish he were here with me." 
 
 And w4th these words Uarda began to cry silently. A 
 nameless anxiety for the paraschites seized Nebsecht, and 
 it struck him to the heart that he had demanded a human 
 life in return for the mere fulfillment of a duty. He 
 knew the law well enough, and knew that the old man 
 would be compelled without respite or delay to empty the 
 cup of poison if he were found guilty of the theft of a 
 human heart. 
 
 It was dark ; Uarda ceased weeping, and said to the 
 surgeon : 
 
 "Can it be possible that he has gone into the city to 
 borrow the great sum of money that thou — or thy temple — 
 demandest for thy medicine ? But there is the princess' 
 golden bracelet, and half of father's prize, and in the 
 chest two years' wages that grandmother has earned by 
 wailing lie untouched. Is all that not enough ? " 
 
 The girl's last question was full of resentment and re- 
 proach, and Nebsecht, whose perfect sincerity was part of 
 his very being, was silent, as he would not venture to say 
 yes. He had asked more in return for his help than gold 
 or silver. Now he remembered Pentaur's warning, and 
 when the jackals began to bark he took up the fire- 
 stick,* and lighted some fuel that was lying ready. Then 
 he asked himself what Uarda's fate would be without her 
 grandparents, and a strange plan, which had floated 
 vaguely before him for some hours, began now to take a 
 distinct outline and intelligible form. He determined if 
 
 * The hieroglyphic sign seems to me to represent the wooden stick 
 used to produce fire (as among some savage tribes) by rapid friction in 
 a hollow piece of wood. 
 
232 UARDA. 
 
 the old man did not return to ask the kolchytes or em- 
 balmers to admit him into their guild * — and for the sake 
 of his adroitness they were not likely to refuse him — then 
 he would make Uarda his wife, and live apart from the 
 world, for her, for his studies, and for his new calling, in 
 which he hoped to learn a great deal. What did he care 
 for comfort or proprieties, for recognition from his fellow- 
 men, and a superior position 1 
 
 He could hope to advance more quickly along the new 
 stony path than on the old beaten track. The impulse to 
 communicate his acquired knowledge to others he did not 
 feel. Knowledge in itself amply satisfied him, and he 
 thought no more of his ties to the House of Seti. For 
 three whole days he had not changed his garments, no 
 razor had touched his chin or his scalp, not a drop of 
 water had wetted his hands or his feet. He felt half be- 
 wildered and almost as if he had already become an em- 
 balmer, nay even a paraschites, one of the most despised of 
 human beings. This self-degradation had an infinite charm, 
 for it brought him down to the level of Uarda, and she, 
 lying near him, sick and anxious, with her disheveled hair, 
 exactly suited the future which he painted to him- 
 self. 
 
 **Do you hear nothing? " Uarda asked, suddenly. 
 
 He Hstened. In the valley there was a barking of dogs, 
 and soon the paraschites and his wife appeared, and, at 
 the door of their hut, took leave of old Hekt, who had met 
 them on her return from Thebes. 
 
 ** You have been gone a long time," cried Uarda, when 
 her grandmother once more stood before her. *'I have 
 been so frightened." 
 
 "The doctor was with you," said the old woman, going 
 into the house to prepare their simple meal, while the 
 paraschites knelt down by his granddaughter, and caressed 
 her tenderly, but yet with respect, as if he were her faith- 
 ful servant rather than her blood relation.. 
 
 Then he rose, and gave to Nebsecht, who was trem- 
 bling with excitement, the bag of coarse linen whicH 
 he was in the habit of carrying tied to him by a narrow 
 belt. 
 
 * This guild still existed in Roman times, and we have much informa- 
 tion about it in various Greek papyri. 
 
UARDA. 233 
 
 *' The heart is in that," he whispered to the leech ; *'take 
 it out, and give me back the bag, for my knife is in it, and 
 I want it. 
 
 Nebsecht took the heart out of the covering with trem- 
 bHng hands, and laid it carefully down. Then he felt in 
 the breast of his dress, and going up to the paraschites he 
 whispered : 
 
 ** Here, take the writing, hang it round your neck, and 
 when you die I will have the book of scripture wrapped up 
 in your mummy-cloths Hke a great man. But that is not 
 enough. The property that I inherited is in the hands of 
 my brother, who is a good man of business, and I have not 
 touched the interest for ten years. I will send it to you, 
 and you and your wife shall enjoy an old age free from 
 care. " 
 
 The paraschites had taken the little bag with the strip 
 of papyrus, and heard the leech to the end. Then ha 
 turned from him, saying : ''Keep thy money ; we are quits. 
 That is, if the child gets well," he added, humbly. 
 
 "She is already half cured," stammered Nebsecht. 
 **But why will you — why won't you accept " 
 
 ** Because till to-day I have never begged nor bor- 
 rowed," said the paraschites, "and I will not begin in my 
 old age. Life for life. But what I have done this day 
 not Rameses with all his treasure could repay." 
 
 Nebsecht looked down, and knew not how to answer 
 the old man. 
 
 His wife now came out ; she set a bowl of lentils that 
 she had hastily warmed before the two men, with radishes 
 and onions,* then she helped Uarda, who did not need to 
 be carried, into the house, and invited Nebsecht to share 
 their meal. He accepted her invitation, for he had eaten 
 nothing since the previous evening. 
 
 When the old woman had once more disappeared in- 
 doors, he asked the paraschites : 
 
 "Whose heart is it that you have brought me, and how 
 did it come into your hands ? " 
 
 * Radishes, onions and garlic were the hors-d'oeuvre of an Egyptian 
 dinner. Sixteen hundred talents worth were consumed, according to 
 Herodotus, during the building of the pyramid of Cheops, equal to 
 if 360,090, 
 
234 UARDA. 
 
 **Tell me first," said the other, **why thou hast laid 
 such a heavy sin upon my soul ? " 
 
 ** Because I want to investigate the structure of the 
 human heart," said Nebsecht, **so that when I meet with 
 diseased hearts, I may be able to cure them." 
 
 The paraschites looked for a long time at the ground in 
 silence ; then he said : 
 
 ** Art thou speaking the truth ? " 
 
 "Yes," replied the leech with convincing emphasis. 
 
 *'I am glad," said the old man, ** for thou gi vest help 
 to the poor. " 
 
 **As willingly as to the rich!" exclaimed Nebsecht. 
 ''But tell me now where you got the heart." 
 
 **I went into the house of the embalmer," said the old 
 man, after he had selected a few large flints, to which, 
 with crafty blows, he gave the shape of knives, " and 
 there I found three bodies in which I had to make the 
 eight prescribed incisions with my flint knife, When the 
 dead lie there undressed on the wooden bench they all 
 look alike, and the beggar lies as still as the favorite son 
 of a king. But I knew very well who lay before me. 
 The strong old body in the middle of the table was the 
 corpse of the superior of the temple of Hatasu, and 
 beyond it, close by each other, were laid a stone-mason 
 of the Necropolis, and a poor girl from the strangers' 
 quarter, who had died of consumption — two miserable 
 wasted figures. I had known the prophet well, for I had 
 met him a hundred times in his gilt fitter, and we always 
 called him Rui, the rich. I did my duty by all three, I 
 was driven away with the usual stoning, and then I ar- 
 ranged the inward parts of the bodies with my mates. 
 Those of the prophet are to be preserved later in an ala- 
 baster canopus,* those of the mason and the girl were put 
 back in their bodies." 
 
 ''Then I went up to the three bodies, and I asked my- 
 self, to which I should do such a wrong as to rob him of 
 his heart. I turned to the two poor ones, and I hastily 
 went up to the sinning girl. Then I heard the voice of 
 the demon that cried out in my heart ; * The girl was poor 
 
   This vase was called canopu? at a later date- There were four of 
 them for eaqh mummy. 
 
UARDA. 235 
 
 and despised like you while she walked on Seb,* perhaps 
 she may find compensation and peace in the other world 
 if you do not mutilate her ; ' and when I turned to the 
 mason's lean corpse, and looked at his hands, which were 
 harder and rougher than my own, the demon whispered 
 the same. Then I stood before the strong, stout corpse 
 of the prophet Rui, who died of apoplexy, and I remem- 
 bered the honor and the riches that he had enjoyed on earth, 
 and that he at least for a time had known happiness and 
 ease. And as soon as I was alone I slipped my hand 
 into the bag, and changed the sheep's heart for his. 
 
 "Perhaps lam doubly guilty for playing such an ac- 
 cursed trick with the heart of a high-priest ; but Rui's body 
 will be hung round with a hundred amulets, Scarabaei f will 
 be placed over his heart, and holy oil and sacred sen- 
 tences will preserve him from all the fiends on his road to 
 Amenti ; while no one will devote helping talismans to 
 the poor. And then ! thou hast sworn, in that world, in 
 the hall of judgment, to take my guilt on thyself." 
 
 Nebsecht gave the old man his hand, 
 
 "That I will," said he, "and I should have chosen as 
 you did. Now take this draught, divide it into four parts, 
 and give it to Uarda for four evenings following. Begin 
 this evening, and by the day after to-morrow I think she 
 will be quite well. I will come again and look after her. 
 Now go to rest, and let me stay a while out here ; before 
 the star of Isis is extinguished I will be gone, for they have 
 long been expecting me at the temple." 
 
 When the paraschites came out of his hut the next 
 morning Nebsecht had vanished ; but a blood-stained 
 cloth that lay by the remains of the fire showed the old 
 man that the impatient investigator had examined the 
 heart of the high-priest during the night, and perhaps cut 
 it up. 
 
 * Seb is the earth ; Plutarch calls Seb Chronos. He is often spoken of 
 as " the father of the gods " on the monuments. He is thsa god of time, 
 and as the Egyptians regarded matter as eternal, it is not Dy accident 
 that the sign which represented the earth was also used for eternity. 
 
 t Imitations of the sacred beetle Scarabaeus, made of various materials, 
 were frequently put into the mummies in the place of the heart. 
 Large specimens have often the twenty-sixth, thirtieth, and sixty-fourth 
 chapters of the Book of the Dead engraved on them, as they treat of the 
 heart. 
 
236 UARDA. 
 
 Terror fell upon him, and in agony of mind he threw 
 himself on his knees as the golden bark of the Sun-god 
 appeared on the horizon, and prayed fervently, first for 
 Uarda, and then for the salvation of his imperiled soul. 
 
 He rose encouraged, convinced himself that his grand- 
 daughter was progressing toward recovery, bid farewell to 
 his wife, took his flint knife and his bronze hook, and 
 went to the house of the embalmer to follow his dismal 
 calling. 
 
 The group of buildings in which the greater number of 
 the corpses from Thebes went through the processes of 
 mummifying lay on the bare desert-land at some distance 
 from his hovel, southward from the House of Seti at the 
 foot of the mountain. They occupied by themselves a 
 fairly large space, enclosed by a rough wall of dried mud- 
 bricks. 
 
 The bodies were brought in through the great gate 
 toward the Nile, and delivered to the kolchytes ; while the 
 priests, paraschites, and taricheutes, bearers and assistants 
 who here did their daily work, as well as innumerable 
 water-carriers who came up from the Nile, loaded with 
 skins, fround their way into the establishment by a side 
 gate. 
 
 At the furthest northern end stood a handsome building 
 of wood, with a separate gate, in which the orders of the 
 bereaved were taken, and often indeed those of men still 
 in active life, who thought to provide betimes for their 
 suitable interment.* 
 
 The crowd in this house was considerable. About fifty 
 men and women were moving in it at the present moment, 
 all of different ranks ; and not only from Thebes but 
 from many smaller towns of upper Egypt, to make pur- 
 chases or to give commissions to the functionaries who 
 were busy here. 
 
 * The well-known passages in Herodotus and in Diodorus, are amply 
 supported by the manuscripts of the ancient Egyptians. In Maspero's 
 able work on a papyrus published by Mariette, and on one in the Lou- 
 vre, we have a mass of hitherto unknown details on the ritual for em- 
 balming. Czermak's physiological investigation of two mummies led to 
 very interesting results, and demonstrated the wonderful preservation of 
 even the most delicate tissues. His researches were printed in " Sitzungs- 
 berichten der k. k. Akademie der Wissenschaften," Vienna, 1852. The 
 bilingual papyrus Qf Rhind i^lso affords v?^luable information. 
 
UARDA. 23*f 
 
 This bazar of the dead was well supplied, for coffins oi 
 every form stood up agamst the walls, from the simplest 
 chest to the richly gilt and painted coffer, in form re- 
 sembling a mummy. On wooden shelves lay endless rolls 
 of coarse and fine linen, in which the limbs of the mum- 
 mies were enveloped, and which were manufactured b)* 
 the people of the embalming establishment under the 
 protection of the tutelar goddesses of weavers, Neith, Isis 
 and Nephthys, though some were ordered from a distance, 
 particularly from Sais. 
 
 There was free choice for the visitors of this pattern- 
 room in the matter of mummy-cases and cloths, as well as 
 of necklets, scarabsei, statuettes, Uza-eyes, girdles, head- 
 rests, triangles, split-rings, staves, and other symbolic ob- 
 jects, which were attached to the dead and sacred amulets, 
 or bound up in the wrappings. 
 
 There were innumeralDle stamps of baked clay, which 
 were buried in the earth to show any one who might dis- 
 pute the limits, how far each grave extended, images oi 
 the gods, which were laid in the sand to purify and sanc- 
 tify * it — for by nature it belonged to Seth-Typhon — as well 
 as the figures called Schebti, which were either inclosed 
 several together in little boxes, or laid separately in the 
 grave ; it was supposed that they would help the dead to 
 till the fields of the blessed with the pick-ax, plow, and 
 seed-bag which they carried on their shoulders. 
 
 The widow and the steward of the wealthy superior of 
 the temple of Hatasu, and with them a priest of high rank, 
 were in eager discussion with the officials of the embalm- 
 ing-house, and were selecting the most costly of the pat- 
 terns of mummy-cases which were offered to their inspec- 
 tion, the finest linen, and amulets of malachite, and 
 lapis-lazuli, of blood-stone, carnelian and green felspar, f 
 as well as the most elegant alabaster canopi for the de- 
 ceased ; his body was to be inclosed first in a sort of case of 
 papier-mache, and then in a wooden and a stone coffin. 
 
 * The purpose of the amulets is in most cases known, as almost every 
 one has a chapter of the book of the dead devoted to it. The little 
 clay cones and images are found in vast numbers, and may be met with 
 in every museum. 
 
 t The use of this material proves the extent of commerce in these 
 early times, for green felspar is now known to be found only in countries 
 remote from Egypt. 
 
238 UARDA. 
 
 They wrote his name on a wax tablet which was ready for 
 the purpose, with those of his parents, his wife and children, 
 and all his titles ; they ordered what verses should be writ- 
 ten on his coffin, what on the papyrus-rolls to be inclosed 
 in it, and what should be set out above his name. With 
 regard to the inscription on the walls of the tomb, the 
 pedestal of the statue to be placed there, and the face of the 
 stele to be erected in it, yet further particulars would be 
 given ; a priest of the temple of Seti was charged to write 
 them, and to draw up a catalogue of the rich offerings 
 of the survivors. The last could be done later, when, 
 after the division of the property, the amount of the for- 
 tune he had left could be ascertained. The mere mummi- 
 fying of the body with the finest oils and essences, cloths, 
 amulets, and cases, would cost a talent of silver, without 
 the stone sarcophagus. 
 
 The widow wore a long mourning-robe, her forehead 
 was lightly daubed with Nile-mud, and in the midst of her 
 chaffering with the functionaries of the embalming-house, 
 whose prices she complained of as enormous and rapa- 
 cious, from time to time she broke out into a loud wail 
 of grief — as the occasion demanded. 
 
 More modest citizens finished their commissions sooner, 
 though it was not unusual for the income of a whole year 
 to be sacrificed for the embalming of the head of a house- 
 hold — the father or the mother of a family. The mum- 
 mifying of the poor was cheap, and that of the poorest had 
 to be provided by the kolchytes as a tribute to the king, 
 to whom also they were obliged to pay a tax in linen 
 from their looms. 
 
 This place of business was carefully separated from the 
 rest of the establishment, which none but those who were 
 engaged in the processes carried on there were on any 
 account permitted to enter. The kolchytes formed a 
 closely-limited guild, at the head of which stood a certain 
 number of priests, and from among them the masters of 
 the many thousand members were chosen. This guild 
 was highly respected, even the taricheutes, who were 
 entrusted with the actual work of embalming, could ven- 
 ture to mix with the other citizens, although in Thebes itself 
 people always avoided them with a certain horror ; only 
 the paraschites, whose duty it was to open the body, bore 
 
UARDA. 
 
 239 
 
 the whole curse of uncleanness. Certainly the place where 
 these people fulfilled their office was dismal enough. 
 
 The stone chamber in which the bodies were opened, 
 and the halls in which they were prepared with salt, had 
 adjoining them a variety of laboratories and depositories 
 for drugs and preparations of every description. 
 
 In a courtyard, protected from the rays of the sun only 
 by an awning, was a large walled basin, containing a 
 solution of natron, in which the bodies were salted, and 
 they were then dried in a stone vault, artificially supplied 
 with hot air. 
 
 The little wooden houses of the weavers, as well as the 
 workshops of the case-joiners and decorators, stood in num- 
 bers round the pattern-room ; but the farthest off, and 
 much the largest of the buildings of the establishment, 
 was a very long low structure, solidly built of stone and 
 well roofed in, where the prepared bodies were enveloped 
 in their cerements, tricked out in amulets, and made 
 ready for their journey to the next world. What took 
 place in this building — into which the laity were admitted, 
 but never for more than a few minutes — was to the last 
 degree mysterious, for here the gods themselves appeared 
 to be engaged with the mortal bodies. 
 
 Out of the windows which opened on the street, recita- 
 tions, hymns, and lamentations sounded night and day. 
 The priests who fulfilled their office here wore masks like 
 the divinities of the under-world.* Many were the rep- 
 resentatives of Anubis, with the jackal-head, assisted by 
 boys with masks of the so-called child-Horus. At the 
 head of each mummy stood or squatted a wailing woman 
 with the emblems of Nephthys, and one at its feet with 
 those of Isis. 
 
 Every separate limb of the deceased was dedicated to a 
 particular divinity by the aid of holy oils, charms, and 
 sentences ; a specially prepared cloth was wrapped round 
 each muscle, every drug and every bandage owed its origin 
 to some divinity, and the confusion of sounds, of dis- 
 
   There are many indications of this in the tomb paintings, and a papyrus 
 (III. of the museum at Bulaq) confirms the idea. The art of molding 
 masks in a paste resembling papier-mache was early known to the E<yvj>* 
 tians, and such a maskof the dead is not unfrequently found at the M I 
 of mummy cases. 
 
240 UARDA. 
 
 guised figures, and of various perfumes, had a stupefy- 
 ing effect on those who visited this chamber. It need 
 not be said that the whole embalming establishment and 
 its neighborhood was enveloped in a cloud of powerful 
 resinous fumes, of sweet attar, of lasting musk, and of 
 pungent spices. 
 
 When the wind blew from the west it was wafted 
 across the Nile to Thebes, and this was regarded as an 
 evil omen, for from the south-west comes the wind that 
 enfeebles the energy of men — the fatal simoom. 
 
 In the court of the pattern-house stood several groups 
 of citizens from Thebes, gathered round different indi- 
 viduals, to whom they were expressing their sympathy. 
 A new-comer, the superintendent of the victims of the 
 temple of Amon, who seemed to be known to many and 
 was greeted with respect, announced, even before he 
 went to condole with Rui's widow, in a tone full of hor- 
 ror at what had happened, that an omen, significant of the 
 greatest misfortune, had occurred in Thebes, in a spot no 
 less sacred than the very temple of Amon himself. 
 
 Many inquisitive listeners stood round him while he re- 
 lated that the regent Ani, in his joy at the victory of 
 his troops in Ethiopia, had distributed wine with a lavish 
 hand to the garrison of Thebes, and also to the watchmen 
 of the temple of Amon, and that, while the people 
 were carousing, wolves * had broken into the stable 
 of the sacred rams, f Some were killed, but the noblest 
 ram, which Rameses himself had sent as a gift from Mendes 
 when he set out for the war — the magnificent beast which 
 Amon had chosen as the tenement of his spirit, J was 
 
 * Wolves have now disappeared from Egypt ; they were sacred animals, 
 and were worshiped and buried at Lykopolis, the present Siut, where 
 mummies of wolves have been found. Herodotus says that if a wolf 
 was found dead he was buried, and Elian states that the herb Lykoktonon, 
 which was poisonous to wolves, might on no account be brought into the 
 city, where they were held sacred. 
 
 t There was also a bull which was sacred to Amon. 
 
 X The ram was especially worshiped at Mendes. The ruins of this city 
 have been found at a short distance from Mansura in the Delta, and 
 Brugsch has interpreted some inscriptions which were found there, and 
 which throw new light on the worship of the ram, and on the accounts 
 of it which have been handed down to us. The ram is called " Ba,'* 
 which is also the name for the soul, and the sacred rams were supposed 
 to be the living embodiment of the soul of Ra. 
 
UARDA. 241 
 
 found, torn in pieces, by the soldiers, who immediately- 
 terrified the whole city with the news. At the same hour 
 news had come from Memphis that the sacred bull Apis 
 was dead. 
 
 All the people who had collected round the priest broke 
 out into a far-sounding cry of woe, in which he himself 
 and Rui's widow vehemently joined. 
 
 The buyers and functionaries rushed out of the pattern- 
 room, and from the mummy-house the taricheutes, paras- 
 chites and assistants ; the weavers left their looms, and all, 
 as soon as they had learned what had happened, took part, 
 in the lamentations, howling and wailing, tearing their 
 hair and covering their faces with dust. 
 
 The noise was loud and distracting, and when its violence 
 diminished, and the work-people went back to their busi- 
 ness, the east wind brought the echo of the cries of the 
 dwellers in the Necropolis, perhaps, too, those of the citi- 
 zens of Thebes itself. 
 
 "Bad news," said the inspector of the victims, '' cannot 
 fail to reach us soon from the king and the army ; he will 
 regret the death of the ram which he called by his name 
 more than that of Apis. It is a bad — a very bad omen." 
 
 " My lost husband Rui, who rests in Osiris, foresaw it 
 all," said the widow. "If only I dared to speak I could 
 tell a good deal that many might find unpleasant." 
 
 The inspector of sacrifices smiled, for he knew that the 
 late superior of the temple of Hatasu had been an adherent 
 of the old royal family, and he replied ; 
 
 "The Sun of Rameses may be for a time covered with 
 clouds, but neither those who fear it nor those who desire 
 it will live to see its setting." 
 
 The priest coldly saluted the lady, and went into the 
 house of a weaver in which he had business, and the widow 
 got into her litter which was waiting at the gate. 
 
 The old paraschites Pinem had joined with his fellows in 
 the lamentation for the sacred beasts, and was now sit- 
 ting on the hard pavement of the dissecting-room to eat 
 his morsel of food — for it was noon. 
 
 The stone room in which he was eating his meal was 
 
 badly lighted ; the daylight came through a small opening 
 
 in the roof, over which the sun stood perpendicularly, and 
 
 a shaft of bright rays, in which danced the whirling motes, 
 
 16 
 
242 UARDA. 
 
 shot down through the twilight on to the stone pavement 
 Mummy-cases leaned against all the walls, and on smooth 
 polished slabs lay bodies covered with coarse cloths. A rat 
 scuttered now and then across the floor, and from the wide 
 cracks between the stones sluggish scorpions crawled out. 
 
 The old paraschites was long since blunted to the horror 
 which pervaded this locality. He had spread a coarse 
 napkin, and carefully laid on it the provisions which his 
 wife had put into his satchel ; first half a cake of bread, 
 then a little salt, and finally a radish. 
 
 But the bag was not yet empty. 
 
 He put his hand in and found a piece of meat wrapped 
 up in two cabbage-leaves. Old Hekt had brought a leg of 
 a gazelle from Thebes for Uarda, and he now saw that the 
 woman had put a piece of it into his little sack for his re- 
 freshment. He looked at the gift with emotion, but he 
 did not venture to touch it, for he felt as if in doing so he 
 should be robbing the sick girl. While he ate the bread 
 and the radish he contemplated the piece of meat as if it 
 were some costly jewel, and when a fly dared to settle on it 
 he drove it off indignantly. 
 
 At last he tasted the meat, and thought of many former 
 noonday meals, and how he had often found a flower in 
 the satchel, that Uarda had placed there to please him, 
 with the bread. His kind old eyes filled with tears, and 
 his whole heart swelled with gratitude and love. He 
 looked up, and his glance fell on the table, and he asked 
 himself how he would have felt if instead of the old priest 
 robbed of his heart, the sunshine of his old age, his grand- 
 daughter, were lying their motionless. A cold shiver ran 
 over him, and he felt that his own heart would not have 
 been too great a price to pay for her recovery. And yet 1 
 In the course of his long life he had experienced so much 
 suffering and wrong, that he could not imagine any hope 
 of a better lot in the other world. Then he drew out the 
 bond Nebsecht had given him, held it up with both hands, 
 as if to show it to the Immortals, and particularly to the 
 judges in the hall of truth and judgment, that they might 
 not reckon with him for the crime he had committed — not 
 for himself but for another — and that they might not re- 
 fuse to justify Rui, whom he had robbed of his heart. 
 
 While he thus lifted his soul in devotion, matters were 
 
UARDA. 243 
 
 getting warm outside the dissecting-room. He thought he 
 heard his name spoken, and scarcely had he raised his 
 head to listen when a taricheutes came in and desired him 
 to follow him. 
 
 In front of the rooms, filled with resinous odors and in- 
 cense, in which the actual process of embalming was car- 
 ried on, a number of taricheutes were standing and look- 
 ing at an object in an alabaster bowl. The knees of the 
 old man knocked together as he recognized the heart of 
 the beast which he had substituted for that of the prophet. 
 
 The chief of the taricheutes asked him whether he had 
 opened the body of the dead priest. 
 
 Pinem stammered out *'Yes." 
 
 Whether this was his heart ? 
 
 The old man nodded affirmatively. 
 
 The taricheutes looked at each other, whispered to- 
 gether ; then one of them went away, and returned soon 
 with the inspector of victims from the temple of Amon, 
 whom he had found in the house of the weaver, and the 
 chief of the kolchytes. 
 
 **Show me the heart," said the superintendent of the 
 sacrifice, as he approached the vase. "I can decide in 
 the dark if you have seen rightly. I examine a hundred 
 animals every day. Give it here ! By all the Gods of 
 Heaven and Hell that is the heart of a ram ! " 
 
 ''It was found in the breast of Rui," said one of the 
 taricheutes, decisively. "It was opened yesterday in 
 the presence of us all by this old paraschites." 
 
 " It is extraordinary," said the priest of Amon. "And 
 incredible. But perhaps an exchange was effected. Did 
 you slaughter any victims here, yesterday or " 
 
 "We are purifying ourselves," the chief of the kol- 
 chytes interrupted, " for the great festival of the Valley, and 
 for ten days no beasts can have been killed here for food ; 
 besides, the stables and slaughter-houses are a long way 
 from this, on the other side of the linen-factories." 
 
 "It is strange!" replied the priest. "Preserve this 
 heart carefully, kolchytes ; or, better still, let it be in- 
 closed in a case. We will take it over to the chief prophet 
 of Amon. It would seem that some miracle has happened. " 
 "The heart belongs to the Necropolis," answered the 
 chief kolchytes, " and it would therefore be more fitting if 
 
244 UARDA. 
 
 we took it to the chief priest of the temple of Seti, 
 Ameni/' 
 
 "You command here ! " said the other. ** Let us g-o." 
 
 In a few minutes the priest of Amon and the chief of 
 the kolchytes were being carried toward the valley in 
 their litters. A taricheute followed them, who sat on a 
 seat between two asses, and carefully carried a casket of 
 ivory, in which reposed the ram's heart. 
 
 The old paraschites watched the priests disappear be- 
 hind the tamarisk bushes. He longed to run after them, 
 and tell them everything. 
 
 His conscience quaked with self-reproach, and if his 
 slugglish intelligence did not enable him to take in at a 
 glance all the results that his deed might entail, he still 
 could guess that he had sown a seed whence deceit of 
 every kind must grow. He felt as if he had fallen alto- 
 gether into sin and falsehood, and that the goddess of 
 truth, whom he had all his life honestly served, had re- 
 proachfully turned her back on him. After what had 
 happened never could he hope to be pronounced a "truth- 
 speaker," by the judges of the dead. Lost, thrown away, 
 was the aim and end of a long life, rich in self-denial and 
 prayer I His soul shed tears of blood, a wild sighing 
 sounded in his ears, which saddened his spirit, and when 
 he went back to his work again, and wanted to remove 
 the soles of the feet* from a body, his hand trembled so 
 that he could not hold the knife. 
 
 CHAPTER XXHL 
 
 The news of the end of the sacred ram of Amon, and of 
 the death of the bull Apis of Memphis, had reached the 
 House of Seti, and wa.s received there with loud lamenta- 
 
 * One of the mummies of Prague, which were dissected by Czermak, 
 had the soles of the feet removed and laid on the breast. We learn 
 from Chapter 125, of the Book of the Dead, that this was done that the 
 sacred floor of the hall of judgment might not be defiled when the dead 
 were summoned before Osiris. 
 
UARDA. 245 
 
 tion, in which all its inhabitants joined, from the chief 
 haruspex down to the smallest boy in the school-courts. 
 
 The superior of the institution, Ameni, had been for 
 three days in Thebes, and was expected to return to-day. 
 His arrival was looked for with anxiety and excitement by 
 many. The chief of the haruspices was eager for it that 
 he might hand over the imprisoned scholars to condign 
 punishment, and complain to him of Pentaur and Bent- 
 Anat ; the initiated knew that important transactions must 
 have been concluded on the further side of the Nile ; and 
 the rebellious disciples knew that now stern justice would 
 be dealt to them. 
 
 The insurrectionary troop were locked into an open 
 court upon bread and water, and as the usual room of de- 
 tention of the establishment was too small for them all, 
 for two nights they had had to sleep in a loft on thin straw 
 mats. The young spirits were excited to the highest pitch, 
 but each expressed his feelings in quite a different manner. 
 
 Bent-Anat s brother, Rameses' son, Rameri, had experi- 
 enced the same treatment as his fellows, whom yesterday 
 he had led into every sort of mischief, with even more 
 audacity than usual, but to-day he hung his head. 
 
 In a corner of the court sat Anana, Pentaur's favorite 
 scholar, hiding his face in his hands, which rested on his 
 knees. Rameri went up to him, touched his shoulder, 
 and said : 
 
 **We have played the game, and now must bear the 
 consequences for good and for evil. Are you not ashamed 
 of yourself, old boy ? Your eyes are wet and the drops 
 here on your hands have not fallen from the clouds. You 
 who are seventeen, and in a few months will be a scribe 
 and a grown man ! " 
 
 Anana looked at the prince, dried his eyes quickly, and 
 said : 
 
 "I was the ringleader. Ameni will turn me out of the 
 place, and I must return disgraced to my poor mother, who 
 has no one in the world but me." 
 
 ** Poor fellow ! " said Rameri, kindly. "It was striking 
 at random ! If only our attempt had done Pentaur any 
 good ! " 
 
 **We have done him harm, on the contrary," said 
 Anana, vehemently, '' and have behaved like fools 1 " 
 
246 UARDA. 
 
 Rameri nodded in full assent, looked thoughtful for ;i 
 moment, and then said : 
 
 "Do you know, Anana, that you were not the ring- 
 leader? The trick was planned in this crazy brain ; I 
 take the whole blame on my own shoulders. I am ths 
 son of Rameses, and Ameni will be less hard on me than 
 on you." 
 
 " He will examine us all," replied Anana, " and I will 
 be punished sooner than tell a lie." 
 
 Rameri colored. 
 
 ''Have you ever known my tongue sin against the 
 lovely daughter of Ra ? " he exclaimed. ** But look here ! 
 did I stir up Antef, Hapi, Sent and all the others or no ? 
 Who but I advised you to find out Pentaur? Did I 
 threaten to beg my father to take me from the school of 
 Seti or not ? I was the instigator of the mischief, I pulled 
 the wires, and if we are questioned let me speak first. 
 Not one of you is to mention Anana's name ; do you hear? 
 not one of you, and if they flog us or deprive us of our 
 food we all stick to this, that I was guilty of all the 
 mischief " 
 
 ''You are a brave fellow ! " said the son of the chief 
 priest of Amon, shaking his right hand, while Anana held 
 his left. 
 
 The prince freed himself laughing from their grasp. 
 
 "Now the old man may come home," he exclaimed, 
 "we are ready for him. But all the same I will ask my 
 father to send me to Chennu, as sure as my name is 
 Rameri, if they do not recall Pentaur." 
 
 "He treated us like school-boys ! " said the eldest of the 
 young malefactors. 
 
 "And with reason," replied Rameri. "I respect him 
 all the more for it. You all think I am a careless dog — 
 but I have my own ideas, and I will speak the words of 
 w^isdom." 
 
 With these words he looked round on his companions 
 with comical gravity, and continued — imitating Ameni's 
 manner : 
 
 " Great men are distinguished from httle men by this— 
 they scorn and contemn all which flatters their vanity, or 
 seems to them for a moment desirable, or even useful, if it 
 is not compatible with the laws which they recognize, oi 
 
UARDA. 247 
 
 conducive to some great end which they have set before 
 them ; even though that end may not be reached till 
 after their death. 
 
 *' I have learned this, partly from my father, but partly 
 I have thought it out for myself; and now I ask you, 
 could Pentaur as *a great man' have dealt with us 
 better ? " 
 
 •* You have put into words exactly what I myself have 
 thought ever since yesterday," cried Anana. "We have 
 behaved like babies, and instead of carrying our point we 
 have brought ourselves and Pentaur into disgrace." 
 
 The rattle of an approaching chariot was now audible, 
 and Rameri exclaimed, interrupting Anana : 
 
 "It is he. Courage, boys ! I am the guilty one. He 
 will not dare to have me thrashed — but he will stab me 
 with looks ! " 
 
 Ameni descended quickly from his chariot. The gate- 
 keeper informed him that the chief of the kolchytes, and 
 the inspector of victims from the temple of Amon, desired 
 to speak with him. 
 
 "They must wait," said the prophet, shortly. "Show 
 them meanwhile into the garden pavilion. Where is the 
 chief haruspex ? " 
 
 He had hardly spoken when the vigorous old man for 
 whom he was inquiring hurried to meet him, to make him 
 acquainted with all that had occurred in his absence. 
 But the high-priest had already heard in Thebes all that 
 his colleague was anxious to tell him. 
 
 When Ameni was absent from the House of Seti, he 
 caused accurate information to be brought to him every 
 morning of what had taken place there. 
 
 Now when the old man began his story he interrupted 
 him. 
 
 " I know everything," he said. "The disciples cling to 
 Pentaur, and have committed a folly for his sake, and you 
 met the Princess Bent-Anat with him in the temple of 
 Hatasu, to which he had admitted a woman of low rank 
 before she had been purified. These are grave matters, 
 and must be seriously considered, but not to-day. Make 
 yourself easy ; Pentaur will not escape punishment ; but 
 for to-day we must recall him to this temple, for we ha\ e 
 need of him to-morrow for the solemnity of the feast of 
 
248 UARDA. 
 
 the Valley. No one shall meet him as an enemy till he is 
 condemned ; I desire this of you, and charge you to 
 repeat it to the others." 
 
 The haruspex endeavored to represent to his superior 
 what a scandal would arise from this untimely clemency ; 
 but Ameni did not allow him to talk, he demanded his 
 ring back, called a young priest, delivered the precious 
 signet into his charge, and desired him to get into his 
 chariot that was waiting at the door, and carry to Pentaur 
 the command, in his name, to return to the temple of Seti. 
 
 The haruspex submitted, though deeply vexed, and 
 asked whether the guilty boys were also to go unpunished. 
 
 " No more than Pentaur," answered Ameni. *' But can 
 you call this school-boy's trick guilt ? Leave the children 
 to their fun, and their imprudence. The educator is the 
 destroyer, if he always and only keeps his eyes open, and 
 cannot close them at the right moment. Before life de- 
 mands of us the exercise of serious duties we have a mighty 
 over-abundance of vigor at our disposal ; the child exhausts 
 it in play, and the boy in building wonder-castles with 
 the hammer and chisel of his fancy, in inventing follies. 
 You shake your head, Septah ! but I tell you, the auda- 
 cious tricks of the boy are the forerunners of the deeds of 
 the man. I shall let one only of the boys suffer for what 
 is past, and I should let him even go unpunished if I 
 had not other pressing reasons for keeping him away from 
 our festival." 
 
 The haruspex did not contradict his chief ; for he knew 
 that when Ameni's eyes flashed so suddenly, and his 
 demeanor, usually so measured, was as restless as at 
 present, something serious was brewing. 
 
 The high-priest understood what was passing in Septah's 
 mind. 
 
 "You do not understand me now, "said he. '* But this 
 evening, at the meeting of the initiated, you shall know 
 all. Great events are stirring. The brethren in the tem- 
 ple of Amon, on the other shore, have fallen off from 
 what must always be the holiest to us white-robed priests, 
 and will stand in our way when the time for action is ar- 
 rived. At the feast of the Valley we shall stand in com- 
 petition with the brethren from Thebes. All Thebes will 
 be present at the solemn service, and it must be proved 
 
UARDA. 249 
 
 which knows how to serve the Divinity most worthily, 
 they or we. We must avail ourselves of all our resources, 
 and Pentaur we certainly cannot do without. He must 
 fill the function of Cherheb * for to-morrow only ; the day 
 after he must be brought to judgment. Among the rebel- 
 lious boys are our best singers, and particularly young 
 Anana, who leads the voices of the choir-boys ; I will 
 examine the silly fellows at once. Rameri — Rameses' 
 son — was among the young miscreants ? " 
 
 **He seems to have been the ringleader," answered 
 Septah. 
 
 Ameni looked at the old man with a significant smile, 
 and said : 
 
 "The royal family are covering themselves with honor ! 
 His eldest daughter must be kept far from the temple and 
 the gathering of the pious, as being unclean and refractory, 
 and we shall be obliged to expel his son from our college. 
 You look horrified, but I say to you that the time for 
 action is come. More of this, this evening. Now, one 
 question : Has the news of the death of the ram of Amon 
 reached you ? Yes ? Rameses himself presented him to 
 the god, and they gave it his name. A bad omen." 
 
 ** And Apis too is dead ! " The haruspex threw up his 
 arms in lamentation. 
 
 *' His divine spirit has returned to God," replied Ameni. 
 
 ** Now we have much to do. Before all things we must 
 prove ourselves equal to those in Thebes over there, and 
 win the people over to our side. The panegyric prepared 
 by us for to-morrow must offer some great novelty. The 
 Regent Ani grants us a rich contribution, and " 
 
 "And," interrupted Septah, "our thaumaturgists un- 
 derstand things very differently from those of the House of 
 Amon, who feast while we practice." 
 
 Ameni nodded assent, and said with a smile : "Also we 
 are more indispensable than they to the people. They 
 show them the path of life, but we smooth the way of 
 death. It is easier to find the way without a guide in the 
 daylight than in the dark. We are more than a match for 
 the priests of Amoi.. " 
 
 * Cherheb was the title of the speaker or reciter at a festival. V.' e 
 cannot agree with those who confuse this personage with the chief oi 
 the Kolchytes. 
 
250 UARDA. 
 
 "So long as you are our leader, certainly," cried the 
 haruspex. 
 
 *'And so long as the temple has no lack of men of your 
 temper ! " added Ameni, half to Septah, and half to the 
 second prophet of the temple, sturdy old Gagabu, who had 
 come into the room. 
 
 Both accompanied him into the garden, where the two 
 priests were awaiting him with the miraculous heart. 
 
 Ameni greeted the priest from the temple of Amon with 
 dignified friendliness, the head kolchytes with distant re- 
 serve, listened to their story, looked at the heart which lay 
 in the box, with Septah and Gagabu, touched it delicately 
 with the tips of his lingers, carefully examining the object, 
 which diffused a strong perfume of spices ; then he said, 
 earnestly : 
 
 "If this, in your opinion, kolchytes, is not a human 
 heart, and if in yours, my brother of the temple of Amon, 
 it is a ram's heart, and if it was found in the body of Rui, 
 who is gone to Osiris, we here have a mystery which only 
 the gods can solve. Follow me into the great court. Let 
 the gong be sounded, Gagabu, four times, for I wish to 
 call all the brethren together. " 
 
 The gong rang in loud waves of sound to the furthest 
 limits of the group of buildings. The initiated, the 
 fathers, the temple servants, and the scholars streamed 
 in, and in a few minutes were all collected. Not a man 
 was wanting, for at the four strokes of the rarely sounded 
 alarm every dweller in the House of Seti was expected to 
 appear in the court of the temple. Even the leech Neb- 
 secht came ; for he feared that the unusual summons an- 
 nounced the outbreak of a fire. 
 
 Ameni ordered the assembly to arrange itself in a pro- 
 cession, informed his astonished hearers that in the breast 
 of the deceased prophet Rui, a ram's heart, instead of a 
 man's, had been found, and desired them all to follow his 
 instructions. Each one, he said, was to fall on his knees 
 and pray, while he would carry the heart into the holiest 
 of holies, and inquire of the gods what this wonder might 
 portend to the faithful. 
 
 Ameni, with the heart in his hand, placed himself at 
 the head of the procession, and disappeared behind the 
 veil of the sanctuary ; the initiated prayed in the vestibule, 
 
UARDA. 251 
 
 in front of it ; the priests and scholars in the vast court, 
 which was closed on the west by the stately colonnade 
 and the main gateway of the temple. 
 
 For fully an hour Ameni remained in the silent holy of 
 holies, from which thick clouds of incense rolled out, and 
 then he reappeared with a golden vase set with precious 
 stones. His tall figure was now resplendent with rich 
 ornaments, and a priest, who walked before him, held the 
 vessel high above his head. 
 
 Ameni's eyes seemed spellbound to the vase, and he 
 followed it, supporting himself by his crozier, with humble 
 inflections. 
 
 The initiated bowed their heads till they touched the 
 pavement, and the priest, and scholars bent their faces 
 down to the earth, when they beheld their haughty master 
 so filled with humiHty and devotion. The worshipers 
 did not raise themselves till Ameni had reached the middle 
 of the court and ascended the steps of the altar, on which 
 the vase with the heart was now placed, and they listened 
 to the slow and solemn accents of the high-priest which 
 sounded clearly through the whole court. 
 
 "Fall down again and worship! wonder, pray and 
 adore ! The noble inspector of sacrifices of the temple of 
 Amon has not been deceived in his judgment ; a ram's 
 heart was in fact found in the pious breast of Rui. I 
 heard distinctly the voice of the Divinity in the sanctuary, 
 and strange indeed was the speech that met my ear. 
 Wolves tore the sacred ram of Amon in his sanctuary on 
 the other bank of the river, but the heart of the divine 
 beast found its way into the bosom of the saintly Rui. A 
 great miracle has been worked, and the gods have shown 
 a wonderful sign. The spirit of the Highest liked not to 
 dwell in the body of this not perfectly holy ram, and seek- 
 ing a purer abiding place found it in the breast of our 
 Rui ; and now in this consecrated vase. In this the heart 
 shall be preserved till a new ram offered by a worthy hand 
 enters the herd of Amon. This heart shall be preserved 
 with the most sacred relics ; it has the property of healing 
 many diseases, and the significant words seem favorable 
 which stood written in the midst of the vapor of incense, 
 and which I will repeat to you word for word : ' That 
 which is high shall rise higher;, and that which exalts 
 
 h 
 
252 UARDA. 
 
 itself shall soon fall down. ' Rise, pastophori ! hasten to 
 fetch the holy images, bring them out, place the sacred 
 heart at the head of the procession, and let us march round 
 the walls of the temple with hymns of praise. Ye temple 
 servants, seize your staves, and spread in every part of 
 the city the news of the miracle which the Divinity has 
 vouchsafed to us." 
 
 After the procession had marched round the temple and 
 dispersed, the priest of Amon took leave of Ameni; he 
 bowed deeply and formally before him, and, with a cool- 
 ness that was almost malicious, said : 
 
 ** We, in the temple of Amon, shall know how to appre- 
 ciate what you heard in the holy of holies. The miracle 
 has occurred, and the king shall learn how it came to 
 pass, and in what words it was announced." 
 
 "In the words of the Most High," said the high-priest 
 with dignity ; he bowed to the other, and turned to a 
 group of priests, who were discussing the great event of 
 the day. 
 
 Ameni inquired of them as to the preparations for the 
 festival of the morrow, and then desired the chief haruspex 
 to call the refractory pupils together in the school-court. 
 The old man informed him that Pentaur had returned, 
 and he followed his superior to the released prisoners, 
 who, prepared for the worst, and expecting severe punish- 
 ment, nevertheless shook with laughter when Rameri sug- 
 gested that, if by chance they were condemned to kneel 
 upon peas, they should get them cooked first. 
 
 "It will be long asparagus — not peas," said another, 
 looking over his shoulder, and pretending to be flogging. 
 
 They all shouted again with laughter, but it was hushed 
 as soon as they heard Ameni's well-known footstep. 
 
 Each feared the worst, and when the high-priest stood 
 before them even Rameri's mirth was quite quelled, for 
 though Ameni looked neither angry nor threatening, his 
 appearance commanded respect, and each one recognized 
 in him a judge against whose verdict no remonstrance was 
 to be thought of. 
 
 To their infinite astonishment Ameni spoke kindly to 
 the thoughtless boys, praised the motive of their action — 
 their attachment to a highly endowed teacher — but then 
 clearly and deliberately laid before them the folly of thp 
 
UARDA. 253 
 
 means they had employed to attain their end, and at what 
 a cost. " Only think," he continued, turning to the 
 prince, "if your father sent a general, who he thought 
 would be better in a different place, from Syria to Kusch, 
 and his troops therefore all went over to the enemy ! How 
 would you like that ? " 
 
 So for some minutes he continued to blame and warn 
 them, and he ended his speech by promising, in considera- 
 tion of the great miracle that gave that day a special 
 sanctity, to exercise unwonted clemency. For the sake 
 of example, he said, he could not let them pass altogether 
 unpunished, and he now asked them which of them had 
 been the instigator of the deed ; he and he only should 
 suffer punishment. 
 
 He had hardly done speaking, when Prince Rameri 
 stepped forward, and said modestly : 
 
 " We acknowledge, holy father, that we have played a 
 foolish trick ; and I lament it doubly because I devised it, 
 and made the others follow me. I love Pentaur, and next 
 to thee there is no one like him in the sanctuary." 
 
 Ameni's countenance grew dark, and he answered with 
 displeasure : 
 
 *' No judgment is allowed to pupils as to their teachers 
 —nor to you. If you were not the son of the king, who 
 rules Egypt as Ra, I would punish your temerity with 
 stripes. My hands are tied with regard to you, and yet 
 they must be everywhere and always at work if the hun- 
 dreds committed to my care are to be kept from harm ! " 
 
 **Nay, punish me !" cried Rameri. "If I commit a 
 folly I am ready to bear the consequences ! " 
 
 Ameni looked pleased at the vehement boy, and would 
 willingly have shaken him by the hand and stroked his 
 curly head, but the penance he proposed for Rameri was 
 to serve a great end, and Ameni would not allow any 
 overflow of emotion to hinder him in the execution of a 
 well considered design. So he answered the prince with 
 grave determination : 
 
 *' I must and will punish you — and I do so by request- 
 ing you to leave the House of Seti this very day." 
 
 The prince turned pale. But Ameni went on more 
 kindly : 
 
 " I do not expel you with ignominy from among us— 
 
254 JARDA. 
 
 I only bid you a friendly farewell. In a few weeks you 
 would in any case have left the college, and by the king's 
 command have transferred your blooming life, health and 
 strength to the exercising ground of the chariot-brigade. 
 No punishment for you but this lies in my power. Now 
 give me your hand ; you will make a fine man, and per- 
 haps a great warrior." 
 
 The prince stood in astonishment before Ameni, and 
 did not take his offered hand. Then the priest went up 
 to him, and said : 
 
 " You said you were ready to take the consequences of 
 your folly, and a prince's word must be kept. Before sun- 
 set we will conduct you to the gate of the temple." 
 
 Ameni turned his back on the boys, and left the school- 
 court. 
 
 Rameri looked after him. Utter whiteness had over- 
 spread his blooming face, and the blood had left even his 
 lips. None of his companions approached him, for each 
 felt that what was passing in his soul at this moment 
 would brook no careless intrusion. No one spoke a word ; 
 they all looked at him. 
 
 He soon observed this, and tried to collect himself, and 
 then he said in a low tone while he held out his hands to 
 An an a and another friend : 
 
 * * Am I then so bad that I must be driven out from 
 among you all like this — that such a blow must be in- 
 flicted on my father ? " 
 
 *'You refused Ameni your hand ! " answered Anana. 
 '*Go to him, offer him your hand, beg him to be less 
 severe, and perhaps he will let you remain." 
 
 Rameri answered only "No." But that **No" was so 
 decided that all who knew him understood that it was 
 final. 
 
 Before the sun set he had left the school. Ameni gave 
 him his blessing ; he told him that if he himself ever had 
 to command he would understand his severity, and al- 
 lowed the other scholars to accompany him as far as the 
 Nile. Pentaur parted from him tenderly at the gate. 
 
 When Rameri was alone in the cabin of his gilt bark 
 with his tutor, he felt his eyes swimming in tears. 
 
 *• Your highness is surely not weeping ? " asked the offi- 
 cial. 
 
UARDA. 255 
 
 "Why? " asked the prince, sharply. 
 
 '*I thought I saw tears on your highness' cheeks." 
 
 ** Tears of joy that I am out of the trap," cried Rameri ; 
 
 he sprang on shore, and in a few minutes he was with his 
 
 sister in the palace. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 This eventful day had brought much that was unex- 
 pected to our friends in Thebes, as well as to those who 
 lived in the Necropolis. 
 
 The Lady Katuti had risen early after a sleepless night. 
 Nefert had come in late, had excused her delay by shortly 
 explaining to her mother that she had been detained by 
 Bent-Anat, and had then affectionately offered her brow 
 for a kiss of ' ' good-night. " 
 
 When the widow was about to withdraw to her sleeping- 
 room, and Nemu had lighted her lamp, she remembered 
 the secret which Paaker was to deliver into the keeping of 
 Ani. She ordered the dwarf to impart to her what he 
 knew, and the little man told her at last, after sincere 
 efforts at resistance — for he feared for his mother's safety 
 — that Paaker had administered half of a love-philter to 
 Nefert, and that the remainder was still in his hands. 
 
 A few hours since this information would have filled 
 Katuti with indignation and disgust ; now, though she 
 blamed the Mohar, she asked eagerly whether such a 
 drink could be proved to have any actual effect. 
 
 *' Not a doubt of it," said the dwarf, "if the whole were 
 taken, but Nefert only had half of it." 
 
 At a late hour Katuti was still pacing her bedroom, 
 thinking of Paaker's insane devotion, of Mena's faithless- 
 ness, and of Nefert's altered demeanor ; and when she 
 went to bed, a thousand conjectures, fears and anxieties 
 tormented her, while she was distressed at the change 
 which had come over Nefert's love to her mother, a senti- 
 ment which of all others should be the most sacred, and 
 the most secure against all shock. 
 
 Soon after sunrise sh*» went into the little t*^n>r>l« st- 
 
256 UARDA. 
 
 tached to the house, and made an offering to the statue, 
 which, under the form of Osiris, represented her lost hus- 
 band ; then she went to the temple of Amon, where she- 
 also prayed a while, and nevertheless, on her return home, 
 found that her daughter had not yet made her appearance 
 in the hall where they usually breakfasted together. 
 
 Katuti preferred to be undisturbed during the early 
 morning hours, and therefore did not interfere with her 
 daughter's disposition to sleep far into the day in her care- 
 fully darkened room. 
 
 When the widow went to the temple Nefert was accus- 
 tomed to take a cup of milk in bed, then she would let 
 herself be dressed, and when her mother returned, she 
 would find her in the veranda or hall, which is so well 
 known to the reader. 
 
 To-day, however, Katuti had to breakfast alone ; but 
 when she had eaten a few mouthfuls she prepared Nefert 's 
 breakfast — a white cake and a little wine in a small silver 
 beaker, carefully guarded from dust and insects by a nap- 
 kin thrown over it — and w^ent into her daughter's room. 
 
 She was startled at finding it empty, but she was in- 
 formed that Nefert had gone earlier than was her wont to 
 the temple, in her litter. 
 
 With a heavy sigh she returned to the veranda, and 
 there received her nephew Paaker, who had come to in- 
 quire after the health of his relatives, followed by a slave, 
 who carried two magnificent bunches of flowers, and by 
 the great dog which had formerly belonged to his father. 
 One bouquet he said had been cut for Nefert, and the 
 other for her mother. 
 
 Katuti had taken quite a new interest in Paaker since 
 she had heard of his procuring the philter. 
 
 No other young man of the rank to which they be- 
 longed would have allowed himself to be so mastered by his 
 passion for a woman as this Paaker was, who went straight 
 to his aim with stubborn determination, and shunned no 
 means that might lead to it. The pioneer, who had grown 
 up under her eyes, whose weaknesses she knew, and 
 whom she was accustomed to look down upon, suddenly 
 appeared to her as a different man — almost a stranger — as 
 the deliverer of his friends, and the merciless antagonist 
 of his enemies. 
 
UARDA. - ^57 
 
 These reflections had passed rapidly through her mind. 
 Now her eyes rested on the sturdy, strongly knit figure of 
 her nephew, audit struck her that he bore no resemblance 
 to his tall, handsome father. Often had she admired her 
 brother-in-law's slender hand, that nevertheless could so 
 effectually wield a sword, but that of his son was broad 
 and ignoble in form. 
 
 While Paaker was telling her that he must shortly leave 
 for Syria, she involuntarily observed the action of his 
 hand, which often went cautiously to his girdle as if he 
 had something concealed there ; this was the oval phial 
 with the rest of the philter. Katuti observed it, and her 
 cheeks flushed when it occurred to her to guess what he 
 had there. 
 
 The pioneer could not but observe Katuti's agitation, 
 and he said in a tone of sympathy : 
 
 **I perceive that you are in pain, or in trouble. The 
 master of Mena's stud at Hermonthis has no doubt been 
 with you — No ? He came to me yesterday, and asked me 
 to allow him to join my troops. He is very angry with 
 you, because he has been obliged to sell some of Mena's 
 gold-bays. I have bought the finest of them. They are 
 splendid creatures ! Now he wants to go to his master 
 'to open his eyes,' as he says. Lie down a little while, 
 aunt, you are very pale." 
 
 Katuti did not follow this prescription ; on the contrary 
 she smiled, and said in a voice half of anger and half of 
 pity: 
 
 '* The old fool firmly believes that the weal or woe of 
 the family depends on the gold-bays. He would like to 
 go with you ? To open Mena's eyes ? No one has yet 
 tried to bind them ! " 
 
 Katuti spoke the last words in a low tone, and her 
 glance fell. Paaker also looked down, and was silent ; 
 but he soon recovered his presence of mind, and said : 
 
 " If Nefert is to be long absent, I will go." 
 
 **No — no, stay," cried the .widow. "She wished to 
 see you, and must soon come in. There are her cake 
 and her wine waiting for her." 
 
 With these words she took the napkin off the breakfast- 
 table, held up the beaker in her hand, and then said, with 
 the cloth still in her hand : 
 
 17 
 
258 UARDA. 
 
 " I will leave you a moment, and see if Nefert is not 
 yet come home." 
 
 Hardly had she left the veranda when Paaker, having 
 convinced himself that no one could see him, snatched 
 the flask from his girdle, and, with a short invocation to 
 his father in Osiris, poured its whole contents into the 
 beaker, which thus was filled to the very brim. A few 
 minutes later Nefert and her mother entered the hall. 
 
 Paaker took up the nosegay, which his slave had laid 
 down on a seat, and timidly approached the young woman, 
 who walked in with such an aspect of decision and self- 
 confidence that her mother looked at her in astonishment, 
 while Paaker felt as if she had never before appeared so 
 beautiful and brilliant. Was it possible that she should 
 love her husband, when he had so little respect for his 
 plighted troth ? Did her heart still belong to another ? Or 
 had the love-philter set him in the place of Mena ? Yes ! 
 yes ! for how warmly she greeted him. She put out her 
 hand to him while he was still quite far off, let it rest in 
 his, thanked him with feeling, and praised his fidelity and 
 generosity. 
 
 Then she went up to the table, begged Paaker to sit 
 down with her, broke her cake, and inquired for her aunt 
 Setchem, Paaker's mother. 
 
 Katuti and Paaker watched all her movements with 
 beating hearts. 
 
 Now she took up the beaker, and lifted it to her lips, but 
 set it down again to answer Paaker's remark that she was 
 breakfasting late. 
 
 ** I have hitherto been a real lazy-bones," she said, with 
 a blush. ** But this morning I got up early, to go and pray 
 in the temple in the fresh dawn. You know what has 
 happened to the second ram of Amon. It is a frightful 
 occurrence. The priests were all in the greatest agitation, 
 but the venerable Bek el Chunsu received me himself, and 
 interpreted my dream, and now my spirit is light and 
 contented." 
 
 "And you did all this without me?" said Katuti, in 
 gentle reproof. 
 
 " I would not disturb you," replied Nefert. 
 
 "Besides," she added, coloring, "you never take me 
 to the city and the temple in the morning." 
 
tTARDA. 259 
 
 Again she took up the wine-cup and looked into it, but 
 without drinking any, went on : 
 
 ''Would you like to hear what I dreamed, Paaker? It 
 was a strange vision." 
 
 The pioneer could hardly breathe for expectation, still 
 he begged her to tell her dream. 
 
 "Only think," said Nefert, pushing the beaker on the 
 smooth table, which was wet with a few drops which she 
 had spilt, *'I dreamed of the Neha-tree,* down there in 
 the great tub, which your father brought me from 
 Punt, when I was a little child, and which since then 
 has grown quite a tall tree. There is no tree in the 
 garden I love so much, for it always reminds me of your 
 father, who was so kind to me, and whom I can never 
 forget ! " 
 
 Paaker bowed assent. 
 
 Nefert looked at him, and interrupted her story when she 
 observed his crimson cheeks. 
 
 *' It is very hot ! Would you like some wine to drink — 
 or some water? " 
 
 With these words she raised the wine cup, and drank 
 about half of the contents ; then she shuddered, and while 
 her pretty face took a comical expression, she turned to her 
 mother, who was seated behind her, and held the beaker 
 toward her. 
 
 "The wine is quite sour to-day ! " she said. " Taste it, 
 mother." 
 
 Kafuti took the little silver cup in her hand, and 
 gravel/ put it to her lips, but without wetting them. A 
 smile passed over her face, and her eyes met those of the 
 pioneer, who stared at her in horror. The picture flashed 
 before her mind of herself languishing for the pioneer, and 
 of his terror at her affection for him ! Her selfish and 
 intriguing spirit was free from coarseness, and yet she 
 could have laughed with all her heart even while engaged 
 in the most shameful deed of her whole life. She gave the 
 wine back to her daughter, saying good-humoredly : 
 
 " I have tasted sweeter, but acid is refreshing in this 
 heat." 
 
 * The Neha-tree yielded the resinous berries called Anta, which were 
 highly valued for incense. It is probably Balsamodendron Myrrhoea, 
 and allied to the tree which produces the balm of Gilead, 
 
26o UARDA. 
 
 '' That is true," said the wife of Mena ; she emptied the 
 cup to the bottom, and then went on, as if refreshed : 
 
 "But I will tell you the rest of my dream. I saw the 
 Neha-tree, which your father gave me, quite plainly ; nay 
 I could have declared that I smelt its perfume, but the 
 interpreter assured me that we never smell in our dreams. 
 I went up to the beautiful tree in admiration. Then sud- 
 denly a hundred axes appeared in the air, wielded by 
 unseen hands, and struck the poor tree with such violence 
 that the branches one by one fell to the ground, and at last 
 the trunk itself was felled. If you think it grieved me 
 you are mistaken. On the contrary, I was delighted with 
 the flashing hatchets and the flying splinters. When at 
 last nothing was left but the roots in the tub of earth, I 
 perceived that the tree was rising to new life. Suddenly 
 my arms became strong, my feet active, and I fetched 
 quantities of water from the tank, poured it over the root's, 
 and when, at last, I could exert myself no longer, atend(^r 
 green shoot showed itself on the wounded root, a bud aj)- 
 peared, a green leaf unfolded itself, a juicy stem sprouted 
 quickly, it became a firm trunk, sent out branches and 
 twigs, and these became covered with leaves and flowers, 
 white, red and blue ; then various birds came and settled 
 on the top of the tree, and sang. Ah ! my heart sang louder 
 than the birds at that moment, and I said to myself that 
 without me the tree would have been dead, and that it 
 owed its life to me." 
 
 '* A beautiful dream," said Katuti ; *'that reminds me 
 of your girlhood, when you would lie awake half the night 
 inventing all sorts of tales. What interpretation did the 
 priest give you ? " 
 
 " He promised me many things," said Nefert, ''and he 
 gave me the assurance that the happiness to which I am 
 predestined shall revive in fresh beauty after many inter- 
 ruptions." 
 
 ' ' And Paaker's father gave you the Neha-tree ? " asked 
 Katuti, leaving the veranda as she spoke and walking out 
 into the garden. 
 
 " My father brought it to Thebes from the far east," 
 said Paaker, in confirmation of the widow's parting 
 words. 
 
 ''And that is exactly what makes me so happy," said 
 
UARDA. 261 
 
 Nefert. *' For your father was as kind, and as dear to me 
 as if he had been my own. Do you remember when we 
 were sailing round the pond, and the boat upset, and you 
 pulled me senseless out of the water ? Never shall I forget 
 the expression with which the great man looked at me 
 when I woke up in his arms ; such wise true eyes no one 
 ever had but he." 
 
 "He was good, and he loved you very much," said 
 Paaker, recalling, for his part, the moment when he had 
 dared to press a kiss on the lips of the sweet unconscious 
 child. 
 
 "And I am so glad," Nefert went on, "that the day 
 has come at last when we can talk of him together, again, 
 and when the old grudge that lay so heavy on my heart i^ 
 all forgotten. How good you are to us, I have already 
 learned ; my heart overflows with gratitude to you, when 
 I remember my childhood, and I can never forget that I 
 was indebted to you for all that was bright and happy in 
 it. Only look at the big dog — poor Descher ! — how he 
 rubs against me, and shows that he has not forgotten me ! 
 Whatever comes from your house fills my mind with pleas- 
 ant memories." 
 
 "We all love you dearly," said Paaker, looking at her 
 tenderly. 
 
 " And how sweet it was in your garden ! " cried Nefert. 
 " The nosegay here that you have brought me shall be 
 placed in water, and preserved a long time, as a greeting 
 from the place in which once I could play so carelessly, 
 and dream so happily." 
 
 W^ith these words she pressed the flowers to her lips ; 
 Paaker sprang forward, seized her hand, and covered it 
 with burning kisses. 
 
 Nefert started and drew away her hand, but he put out 
 his arm to clasp her to him. He had touched her with 
 his trembling hand, when loud voices were heard in the 
 garden, and Nemu hurried in to announce the arrival of 
 the Princess Bent-Anat. 
 
 At the same moment Katuti appeared, and in a few minutes 
 the princess herself 
 
 Paaker retreated, and quitted the room before Nefert 
 had time to express her indignation. He staggered to his 
 chariot like a drunken man. He supposed himself beloved 
 
262 UARDA. 
 
 by Mena's wife, his heart was full of triumph, he purposed 
 rewarding Hekt with gold, and went to the palace without 
 delay to crave of Ani a mission to Syria. There it should 
 be brought to the test — he or Mena. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 While Nefert, frozen with horror, could not find a word 
 of greeting for her royal friend, Bent-Anat with native 
 dignity laid before the widow her choice of Nefert to fill 
 the place of her lost companion, and desired that Mena's 
 wife should go to the palace that very day. 
 
 She had never before spoken thus to Katuti, and Katuti 
 could not overlook the fact that Bent-Anat had intention- 
 ally given up her old confidential tone. 
 
 "Nefert has complained of me to her," thought she to 
 herself, " and she considers me no longer worthy of her 
 former friendly kindness." 
 
 She was vexed and hurt, and though she understood the 
 danger which threatened her, now her daughter's eyes 
 were opened, still the thought of losing her child inflicted 
 a painful wound. It was this which filled her eyes with 
 tears, and sincere sorrow trembled in her voice as she 
 replied : 
 
 ** Thou hast required the better half of my life at my 
 hand ; but thou hast but to command, and I to obey." 
 
 Bent-Anat waved her hand proudly, as if to confirm 
 the widow's statement ; but Nefert went up to her mother, 
 threw her arms round her neck, and wept upon her 
 shoulder. 
 
 Tears glistened even in the princess' eyes when Katuti at 
 last led her daughter toward her, and pressed yet one 
 more kiss on her forehead. 
 
 Bent-Anat took Nefert 's hand, and did not release it, 
 while she requested the widow to give her daughter's 
 dresses and ornaments into the charge of the slaves and 
 waiting-women whom she would send for them. 
 
 ** And do not forget the case with the dried flowers, and 
 
UARDA. 263 
 
 my amulets, and the imag-es of the gods," said Nefert. 
 ** And I should like to have the Neha-tree which my uncle 
 gave me." 
 
 Her white cat was playing at her feet with Paaker's 
 flowers, which she had dropped on the floor, and when 
 she saw her she took her up and kissed her. 
 
 ** Bring the little creature with you," said Bent-Anat. 
 " It was your favorite plaything." 
 
 " No," replied Nefert, coloring. 
 
 The princess understood her, pressed her hand, and said, 
 while she pointed to Nemu : 
 
 "The dwarf is your own too ; shall he come with 
 you ? " 
 
 "I will give him to my mother," said Nefert. She let 
 the little man kiss her robe and her feet, once more em- 
 braced Katuti, and quitted the garden with her royal 
 friend. 
 
 As soon as Katuti was alone, she hastened into the little 
 chapel in w^hich the figures of her ancestors stood, apart 
 from those of Mena. She threw herself down before the 
 statue of her husband, half weeping, half thankful. 
 
 This parting had indeed fallen heavily on her soul, but 
 at the same time it released her from a mountain of 
 anxiety that had oppressed her breast. Since yesterday 
 she had felt like one who walks along the edge of a preci- 
 pice, and whose enemy is close at his heels ; andthe sense 
 of freedom from the ever-threatening danger soon got the 
 upper hand of her maternal grief. The abyss in front of 
 her had suddenly closed ; the road to the goal of her efforts 
 lay before her smooth and firm beneath her feet. 
 
 The widow, usually so dignified, hastily and eagerly 
 walked down the garden path, and for the first time since 
 that luckless letter from the camp had reached her, she 
 could look calmly and clearly at the position of affairs, 
 and reflect on the measures which Ani must take in the 
 immediate future. She told herself that all was well, and 
 that the time for prompt and rapid action was now come. 
 
 When the messengers came from the princess she super- 
 intended the packing of the various objects which Nefert 
 wished to have, with calm deliberation, and then sent her 
 dwarf to Ani, to beg that he would visit her. But before 
 Nemu had left Mena's grounds he saw the outrunners of 
 
264 UARDA. 
 
 the regent, his chariot, and the troop of guards following 
 him. 
 
 Very soon Katuti and her noble friend were walking up 
 and down in the garden, while she related to him how 
 Bent-Anat had taken Nefert from her, and repeated to 
 him all that she had planned and considered during the 
 last hour. 
 
 "You have the genius of a man," said Ani ; " and this 
 time you do not urge me in vain. Ameni is ready to act, 
 Paaker is to-day collecting his troops, to-morrow he will 
 assist at the feast of the Valley, and the next day he goes 
 to Syria." 
 
 " He has been with you ? " Katuti asked. 
 
 ' ' He came to the palace on leaving your house, " replied 
 Ani, ''with glowing cheeks, and resolved to the utmost; 
 though he does not dream that I hold him in my hand." 
 
 Thus speaking they entered the veranda, in which Nemu 
 had remained, and he now hid himself as usual behind the 
 ornamental shrubs to overhear them. They sat down near 
 each other, by Neferf s breakfast table, and Ani asked 
 Katuti whether the dwarf had told her his mother's secret. 
 Katuti feigned ignorance, listened to the story of the love- 
 philter, and played the part of the alarmed mother very 
 cleverly. The regent was of opinion, while he tried to 
 soothe her, that there was no real love-potion in the case ; 
 but the widow exclaimed : 
 
 "Now I understand, now for the first time I comprehend 
 my daughter. Paaker must have poured the drink into 
 her wine, for she had no sooner drank it this morning than 
 she was quite altered — her words to Paaker had quite a 
 tender ring in them ; and if he placed himself so cheerfully 
 at your disposal it is because he believes himself certainly 
 to be beloved by my daughter. The old witch's potion 
 was effectual." 
 
 "There certainly are such drinks," said Ani, thought- 
 fully. "But will they only win hearts to young men ! If 
 that is the case, the old woman's trade is a bad one, for 
 youth is in itself a charm to attract love. If I were only as 
 young as Paaker ! You laugh at the sighs of a man — say 
 at once of an old man ! Well, yes, I am old, for the prime 
 of life lies behind me. And yet, Katuti, my friend, wisest 
 of women — explain to me one thing;. When I was young 
 
UARDA. 265 
 
 I was loved by many and admired many women, but not 
 one of them — not even my wife, who died young, was 
 more to me than a toy, a plaything ; and now when I 
 stretch out my hand for a girl, whose father I might very 
 well be — not for her own sake, but simply to serve my 
 purpose — and she refuses me, I feel as much disturbed, 
 as much a fool as — as that dealer in love-philters, Paaker. " 
 
 ** Have you spoke to Bent-Anat? '' asked Katuti. 
 
 "And heard again from her own lips the refusal she had 
 sent me through you. You see my spirit has suffered ! " 
 
 **And on what pretext did she reject your suit?" asked 
 the widow. 
 
 "Pretext!" cried Ani. "Bent-Anat and pretext! It 
 must be owned that she has kingly pride, and not Ma* 
 herself is more truthful than she. That I should have to 
 confess it ! When I think of her, our plot seems to me un- 
 utterably pitiful. My veins contain, indeed, many drops 
 of the blood of Thotmes, and though the experience of life 
 has taught me to stoop low, still the stooping hurts me. 
 I have never known the happy feeling of satisfaction with 
 my lot and my work ; for I have always had a greater posi- 
 tion than I could fill, and constantly done less than I ought 
 to have done. In order not to look always resentful, 
 I always wear a smile. I have nothing left of the face I 
 was born with but the mere skin, and always wear a mask. 
 I serve him whose master I believe I ought to be by birth ; 
 I hate Rameses, who, sincerely or no, calls me his brother ; 
 and while I stand as if I were the bulwark of his authority 
 I am diligently undermining it. My whole existence is a 
 lie." 
 
 " But it will be truth," cried Katuti, "as soon as the 
 gods allow you to be — as you are — the real king of this 
 country. " 
 
 " Strange ! " said Ani, smiling, " Ameni, this very day, 
 used almost exactly the same words. The wisdom of 
 priests, and that of women, have much in common, and 
 they fight with the same weapons. You use words in- 
 stead of swords, traps instead of lances, and you cast not 
 9ur bodies, but our souls, into irons." 
 
 •* Do you blame or praise us for it ? " said the widow. 
 
 «The Goddew of Truth. 
 
266 UARDA. 
 
 **We are in any case not impotent allies, and therefore, it 
 seems to me, desirable ones." 
 
 ** Indeed you are," said Ani, smiling. "Not a tear is 
 shed in the land, whether it is shed for joy or for sorrow, 
 for which in the first instance a priest or a woman is not 
 responsible. Seriously, Katuti — in nine great events out 
 of ten you women have a hand in the game. You gave 
 the first impulse to all that is plotting here, and I will con- 
 fess to you that, regardless of all consequences, I should 
 in a few'hours have given up my pretensions to the 
 throne, if that woman Bent-Anat had said * yes ' instead 
 of ' no.' " 
 
 " You make me believe, "said Katuti, " that the weaker 
 sex are gifted with stronger wills than the nobler. In 
 marrying us you style us ' the mistress of the house,' and 
 if the elders of the citizens grow infirm in this country it 
 is not the sons but the daughters that must be their main- 
 stay. But we women have our weaknesses, and chief of 
 these is curiosity. May I ask on what ground Bent-Anat 
 dismissed you ? " 
 
 '* You know so much that you may know all," replied 
 Ani. **She admitted me to speak to her alone. It was 
 yet early, and she had come from the temple, where the 
 weak old prophet had absolved her from uncleanness ; she 
 met me, bright, beautiful and proud, strong and radiant 
 as a goddess, and a princess. My heart throbbed as if I 
 were a boy, and while she was showing me her flowers I 
 said to myself : ' You are come to obtain through her 
 another claim to the throne.' And yet I felt that, if she 
 consented to be mine, I would remain the true brother, 
 the faithful regent of Rameses, and enjoy happiness and 
 peace by her side before it was too late. If she refused 
 me then I resolved that fate must take its way, and, in- 
 stead of peace and love, it must be war for the crown 
 snatched from my fathers. I tried to woo her, but she cut 
 my words short, said I was a noble man, and a worthy 
 suitor but " 
 
 ''There came the but." 
 
 * * Yes — in the form of a very frank ' no. ' I asked her 
 reasons ; she begged me to be content with the ' no '; then 
 I pressed her harder, till she interrupted me, and owned 
 with proud decision that she preferred some one else. I 
 
UARDA. 267 
 
 wished to learn the name of the happy man — that she 
 refused. Then my blood began to boil, and my desire to 
 win her increased ; but I had to leave her, rejected, and 
 with a fresh, burning, poisoned wound in my heart." 
 
 "You are jealous ! " said Katuti, *' and do you know of 
 whom ? " 
 
 *' No," replied Ani. *'ButIhope to find out through 
 you. What 1 feel it is impossible for me to express. But 
 one thing I know, and that is this, that I entered the 
 palace a vacillating man — that I left it firmly resolved. 
 I now rush straight onward, never again to turn back. 
 From this time forward you will no longer have to drive 
 me onward, but rather to hold me back ; and as if the 
 ^ods had meant to show" that they would stand by me, I 
 Found the high-priest Ameni, and the chief pioneer Paaker 
 waiting for me in my house. Ameni will act for me in 
 Egypt, Paaker in Syria. My victorious troops from 
 Ethiopia will enter Thebes to-morrow morning, on their 
 return home in triumph, as if the king were at their head, 
 and will then take part in the feast of the Valley. Later 
 eve will send them into the north, and post them in the 
 fortresses which protect Egypt * against enemies coming 
 Irom the east — Tanis, Daphne, Pelusium, Migdol. 
 Rameses, as you know, requires that w^e should drill the 
 serfs of the temples, and send them to him as auxiliaries, 
 L will send him half of the body-guard, the other half 
 ^hall serve my own purposes. The garrison of Memphis, 
 «vhich is devoted to Rameses, shall be sent to Nubia, and 
 jhall be relieved by troops that are faithful to me. The 
 people of Thebes are led by the priests, and to-morrow 
 Ameni will point out to them who is their legitimate king, 
 who will put an end to the war and release them from 
 taxes. The children of Rameses will be excluded from the 
 solemnities, for Ameni, in spite of the chief priest of 
 Amon, still pronounces Bent-Anat unclean. Young 
 Rameri has been doing wrong, and Ameni, who has some 
 other great scheme in his mind, has forbidden him the 
 temple of Seti ; that will work on the crowd ! You know 
 (low things are going on in Syria : Rameses has suffered 
 
 * T have treated the line of fortresses which protected Egypt from the 
 incursions of the Asiatic tribes on the east in " Egypten una die BiicW 
 .viose," Vol. ii., p. 73. 
 
268 UARDA. 
 
 much at the hands of the Cheta and their allies ; whole 
 legions are weary of eternally lying in the field, and if 
 things came to extremities would join us ; but, perhaps, 
 especially if Paaker acquits himself well, we may be vic- 
 torious without fighting. Above all things now we must 
 act rapidly." 
 
 *'I no longer recognize the timid, cautious lover of 
 delay ! " exclaimed Katuti. 
 
 " Because now prudent hesitation would be want of pru- 
 dence," said Ani. 
 
 "And if the king should get timely information as to 
 what is happening here ? " said Katuti. 
 
 **I said sol" exclaimed Ani; "we are exchanging 
 parts." 
 
 "You are mistaken," said Katuti. "I also am for 
 pressing forward ; but I would remind you of a necessary 
 precaution. No letters but yours must reach the camp 
 for the next few weeks." 
 
 " Once more you and the priests are of one mind," said 
 Ani, laughing; "for Ameni gave me the same counsel. 
 Whatever letters are sent across the frontier between 
 Pelusium and the Red Sea will be detained. Only my let- 
 ters — in which I complain of the piratical sons of the 
 desert who fall upon the messengers — will reach the 
 king." 
 
 "That is wise," said the widow ; "let the seaports of 
 the Red Sea be watched too, and the public writers. 
 When you are king, you can distinguish those who are 
 affected for or against you." 
 
 Ani shook his head and replied : 
 
 " That would put me in a difficult position ; for if 1 
 were to punish those who are now faithful to their king, 
 and exalt the others, I should have to govern with un- 
 faithful servants, and turn away the faithful ones. You 
 need not color, my kind friend, for we are kin, and my 
 concerns are yours." 
 
 Katuti took the hand he offered her and said : 
 
 "It is so. And I ask no further reward than to see 
 my father's house once more in the enjoyment of its 
 rights. " 
 
 "Perhaps we shall achieve it," said Ani; "but in a 
 ghort time if— if--rrr-Reflect^ Katuti ; try tp ^i^d out^ a§l^ 
 
UARDA. 269 
 
 your daughter to help you to the utmost. Who is It that 
 she — you know whom I mean — who is it that Bent-Anat 
 loves ? " 
 
 The widow started, for Ani had spoken the last words 
 with a vehemence very foreign to his usual courtliness, but 
 soon she smiled and repeated to the regent the names of the 
 few young nobles who had not followed the king, and re- 
 mained in Thebes. **Can it be Chamus ? '* at last she 
 said, *' he is at the camp, it is true, but nevertheless " 
 
 At this instant Nemu, who had not lost a word of the 
 conversation, came in as if straight from the garden and 
 said : 
 
 * * Pardon me, my lady ; but I have heard a strange 
 thing. " 
 
 * 'Speak," said Katuti. 
 
 **The high and mighty Princess Bent-Anat, the daugh- 
 ter of Rameses, is said to have an open love affair with a 
 young priest of the House of Seti." 
 
 ** You bare-faced scoundrel ! " exclaimed Ani, and his 
 eyes sparkled with rage. ** Prove what you say, or you 
 lose your tongue." 
 
 "I am willing to lose it as a slanderer and traitor ac- 
 cording to the law, " said the little man abjectly, and yet 
 with a malicious laugh ; ** but this time I shall keep it, 
 far I can vouch for what I say. You both know that Bent- 
 Anat was pronounced unclean because she stayed for an 
 hour and more in the house of a paraschites. She had an 
 avjsignation there with the priest. At a second, in the 
 temple of Hatasu, they were surprised by Septah, the 
 chief of the haruspices of the House of Seti. ' 
 
 *' Who is the priest?" asked Ani, with apparent calm- 
 ness. 
 
 *'A low-born man," replied Nemu, "to whom a free 
 education was given at the House of Seti, and who is well 
 known as a verse maker and interpreter of dreams. His 
 name is Pentaur, and it certainly must be admitted that 
 he is handsome and dignified. He is line for line the 
 image of the pioneer Paaker's late father — Didst thou ever 
 see him, my lord .? " 
 
 The regent looked gloomily at the floor and nodded 
 that he had. ButKatuti cried out : '* Fool that I am ! the 
 dwarf is right ! I saw how she blushed when her brother 
 
270 UAPvDA. 
 
 told her how the boys had rebelled on his account against 
 Ameni. It is Pentaur and none other I " 
 
 ** Good 1 " said Ani, " we will see." 
 
 With these words he took leave of Katuti, who, as he 
 disappeared in the garden, muttered to himself : 
 
 **Hewas wonderfully clear and decided to-day; but 
 Jealousy is already blinding him and will soon make him 
 feel that he cannot get on without my sharp eyes." 
 
 Nemu had slipped out after the regent. 
 
 He called to him from behind a fig-tree, and hastily 
 whispered, while he bowed with deep respect : 
 
 " My mother knows a great deal, most noble highness ! 
 The sacred Ibis * wades through the fen when it goes in 
 search of prey, and why shouldst thou not stoop to pick 
 up gold out of the dust ? I know how thou couldst speak 
 with the old woman without being seen. " 
 
 ** Speak," said Ani. 
 
 "Throw her into prison for' a day, hear what she has to 
 say, and then release her — with gifts if she is of service to 
 you — if not, with blows. But thou wilt learn something 
 important from her that she obstinately refused to tell me 
 even." 
 
 *' We will see 1" replied the regent. He threw a ring 
 of gold to the dwarf and got into his chariot. 
 
 So large a crowd had collected in the vicinity of the 
 palace that Ani apprehended mischief, and ordered his 
 charioteer to check the pace of the horses, and sent a few 
 police-soldiers to the support of the outrunners, but good 
 new^s seemed to await him, for at the gate of the castle he 
 heard the unmistakable acclamations of the crowd, and 
 in the palace court he found a messenger from the temple 
 of Seti, commissioned by Ameni to communicate to him 
 and to the people the occurrence of a great miracle, in 
 that the heart of the ram of Amon, that had been torn by 
 wolves, had been found again within the breast of the 
 dead prophet Rui. 
 
 * Ibis religiosa. It has disappeared from Egypt. There were two 
 varieties of this bird, which was sacred to Toth, and mummies of both 
 have been found in various places. Elian states that an immortal Ibis 
 was shown at Hermopolis. Plutarch says the Ibis destroys poisonous 
 reptiles, and that priests draw the water for their purifications where the 
 Ibis has drunk, as it will never touch unwholesome water. 
 
UARDA. 271 
 
 Ani at once descended from his chariot, knelt down 
 before all the people, who followed his example, lifted 
 his arms to Heaven, and praised the gods in a loud voice. 
 When, after some minutes, he rose and entered the palace, 
 slaves came out and distributed bread to the crowd in 
 Ameni s name. 
 
 ''The regent has an open hand," said a joiner to his 
 neighbor; *'only look how white the bread is. I will 
 put it in my pocket and take it to the children." 
 
 '' Give me a bit ! " cried a naked little scamp, snatching 
 the cake of bread from the joiners hand and running 
 away, slipping between the legs of the people as lithe as a 
 snake. 
 
 ** You crocodile's brat ! " cried his victim. *' The inso- 
 lence of boys gets worse and worse every day." 
 
 "They are hungry," said a woman, apologetically. 
 ''Their fathers are gone to the war, and the mothers 
 have nothing for their children but papyrus-pith and 
 lotus-seeds. " 
 
 *' I hope they enjoy it," laughed the joiner. "Let 
 us push to the left ; there is a man with some more 
 bread. " 
 
 "The regent must rejoice greatly over the miracle," 
 said a shoemaker. "It is costing him something." 
 
 " Nothing like it has happened for a long time," said a 
 basket-maker. * ' And he is particularly glad it should be 
 precisely Rui's body, which the sacred heart should have 
 blessed. You ask why ? Hatasu is Ani's ancestress, 
 blockhead 1 " 
 
 " And Rui was prophet of the temple of Hatasu," added 
 the joiner. 
 
 "The priests over there are all hangers-on of the old 
 royal house, that I know," asserted a baker. 
 
 ' ' That's no secret ! " cried the cobbler. ' ' The old times 
 were better than these too. The war upsets everything, 
 and quite respectable people go barefoot because they 
 cannot pay for shoe-leather. Rameses is a great warrior, 
 and the son of Ra, but what can he do without the gods ; 
 and they don't seem to like to stay in Thebes any longer ; 
 else why should the heart of the sacred ram seek a new 
 dwelling in the Necropolis, and in the breast of an ad- 
 herent of the old " 
 
2>r2 UARDA. 
 
 • * Hold your tongue, " warned the basket-maker. ' ' Hero 
 comes one of the watch." 
 
 *'I must go back to work," said the baker. '*I have 
 my hands quite full for the feast to-morrow." 
 
 ** And I too," said the shoemaker with a sigh, "for who 
 would follow the king of the gods through the Necropolis 
 barefoot. " 
 
 '* You must earn a good deal," cried the basket-maker. 
 
 ''We should do better if we had better workmen," re- 
 plied the shoemaker, "but all the good hands are gone to 
 the war. One has to put up with stupid youngsters. And 
 as for the women ! My wife must needs have a new gown 
 for the procession, and bought necklets for the children. 
 Of course we must honor the dead, and they repay it often 
 by standing by us when we want it — but what I pay for 
 sacrifices no one can tell. More than half of what I earn 
 goes in them " 
 
 "In the first grief of losing my poor wife," said the 
 baker, " I promised a small offering every new moon, and 
 a greater one every year. The priests will not release us 
 from our vows, and times get harder and harder. And my 
 dead wife owes me a grudge, and is as thankless as she was 
 in her lifetime ; for when she appears to me in a dream 
 she does not give me a good word, and often torments 
 me." 
 
 "She is now a glorified all-seeing spirit," said the 
 basket-maker's wife, "and no doubt you were faithless to 
 her. The glorified souls know all that happens, and that 
 has happened on earth." 
 
 The baker cleared his throat, having no answer ready ; 
 but the shoemaker exclaimed : 
 
 " By Anubis, the lord of the under-world, I hope I may 
 die before my old woman ! for if she tells them down there 
 all I have done in this world, and if she may be changed 
 into any shape she pleases, she will come to me every night, 
 and nip me like a crab, and sit on me like a mountain." 
 
 * * And if you die first, " said the woman, * ' she will follow 
 you afterward to the under-world, and see through you 
 there. " 
 
 "That will be less dangerous," said the shoemaker, 
 laughing, "for then I shall be glorified too, and shall 
 know all about her past Hfe. That will not all be white 
 
UARDA. 273 
 
 paper either, and if she throws a shoe at me I will fling the 
 last at her." 
 
 **Come home," said the basket-maker's wife, pulling* 
 her husband away. " You are getting no good by hearing 
 this talk." 
 
 The by-standers laughed, and the baker exclaimed 
 
 " It is high time I should be in the Necropolis before it 
 gets dark, and see to the tables being laid for to-morrow's 
 festival. My trucks are close to the narrow entrance to 
 the valley. Send your little ones to me, and I will give 
 them something nice. Are you coming over with me ? " 
 
 ''My younger brother is gone over with the goods," 
 replied the shoemaker. " We have plenty to do still for 
 the customers in Thebes, and here am I standing gossip- 
 ing. Will the wonderful heart of the sacred ram be ex- 
 hibited to-morrow, do you know ? " 
 
 "Of course — no doubt," said the baker; *' good-bye, 
 there go my cases I " 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 Notwithstanding the advanced hour hundreds of people 
 were crossing over to the Necropolis at the same time as 
 the baker. They were permitted to linger late on into 
 the evening, under the inspection of the watch, because it 
 was the eve of the great feast, and they had to set out 
 their counters and awnings, to pitch their tents, and to 
 spread out their wares ; for as soon as the sun rose next 
 day all business traffic would be stopped, none but festal 
 barges might cross from Thebes,, or such boats as ferried 
 over pilgrims — men, women, and children, whether na- 
 tives or foreigners, who were to take part in the great pro- 
 cession. 
 
 In the halls and work-rooms of the House of Seti there 
 was unusual stir. The great miracle of the wonderful 
 heart had left but a short time for the preparations for the 
 festival. Here a chorus was being practiced, then on the 
 sacred lake* a scenic representation was being rehearsed ; 
 
 * Every temple had its sacred lake or tank, and Herodotus speaks of 
 iS 
 
274 UARDA. 
 
 here the statues of the gods were being cleaned and 
 dressed,* and the colors of the sacred emblems were being 
 revived, there the panther-skins and other parts of the 
 ceremonial vestments of the priests were being aired and 
 set out ; here scepters, censers and other metal-vessels were 
 being cleaned, and there the sacred bark which was to be 
 carried in the procession was being decorated. In the 
 sacred groves of the temple the school-boys, under the 
 direction of the gardeners, wove garlands and wreaths to 
 decorate the landing-places, the sphinxes, the temple, and 
 the statues of the gods. Flags were hoisted on the brass- 
 tipped masts in front of the pylon, and purple sails were 
 spread to give shadow to the court 
 
 The inspector of sacrifices was already receiving at a 
 side door the cattle, corn and fruit offerings which were 
 brought as tribute to the House of Seti, by citizens from 
 all parts of the country, on the occasion of the festival of 
 the Valley, and he was assisted by scribes, who kept an 
 account of all that was brought in by the able-bodied 
 temple-servants and laboring serfs. 
 
 Ameni was everywhere ; now with the singers, now with 
 the magicians, who were to effect wonderful transforma- 
 tions before the astonished multitude; now with the work- 
 men, who were erecting thrones for the regent, the emis- 
 saries from other collegiate foundations — even from so far 
 as the Delta — and the prophets from Thebes ; now with 
 the priests, who were preparing the incense, now with the 
 servants, who were trimming the thousand lamps for the 
 illumination at night — in short everywhere ; here inciting, 
 there praising. When he had convinced himself that all 
 was going on well he desired one of the priests to call 
 Pentaur. 
 
 After the departure of the exiled Prince Rameri, the 
 
 the representations he saw at night on the sacred lake of Neith at Sais. 
 *' They call them mysteries," he says, " and, though I know much about 
 them, I will be silent out of reverence." The myths of Isis, Osiris and 
 Seth-Typhon were represented. 
 
 *The Stolistes had the duty of dressing the figures of the gods, and 
 on some of the reliefs there are still little hooks on which the drapery 
 was hung. The dressing and undressing of the holy images was con- 
 ducted in strict accordance with a prescribed ritual. The inscriptions in 
 the seven sanctuaries of Abydos, published by Mariette, are full of in- 
 struction as to these ordinances, which were significant in every detail 
 
UARDA. 
 
 275 
 
 young" priest had gone to the work-room of his friend 
 Nebsecht. 
 
 The leech went uneasily from his phials to his cages, and 
 from his cages back to his flasks. While he told Pentaur 
 of the state he had found his room in on his return home, 
 he wandered about in feverish excitement, unable to keep 
 still, now kicking over a bundle of plants, now thumping 
 down his fist on the table ; his favorite birds were starved 
 to death, his snakes had escaped, and his ape had followed 
 their example, apparently in his fear of them. 
 
 ''The brute, the monster ! " cried Nebsecht, in a rage. 
 *' He has thrown over the jars with the beetles in them, 
 opened the chest of meal that I feed the birds and insects 
 upon, and rolled about in it ; he has thrown my knives, 
 prickers, and forceps, my pins, compasses, and reed-pens 
 all out of the window ; and when I came in he was sitting 
 on the cupboard up there, looking just Hke a black slave 
 that works night and day in a corn-mill ; he had got hold 
 of the roll which contained all my observations on the 
 structure of animals — the result of years of study — and was 
 looking at it gravely with his head on one side. I wanted 
 to take the book from him, but he fled with the roll, sprang 
 out of window, let himself down to the edge of the well, 
 and tore and rubbed the manuscript to pieces in a rage. 
 I leaped out after him, but he jumped into the bucket, 
 took hold of the chain, and let himself down, grinning at 
 me in mockery, and when I drew him up again he jumped 
 into the water with the remains of the book." 
 
 "And the poor wretch is drowned.? " asked Pentaur. 
 
 ** I fished him up with the bucket, and laid him to dry 
 in the sun ; but he had been tasting all sorts of medicines, 
 and he died at noon. My observations are gone ! Some 
 of them certainly are still left ; however, I must begin 
 again at the beginning. You see apes object as much to 
 my labors as sages ; there lies the beast on the shelf" 
 
 Pentaur had laughed at his friend'^ story, and then 
 lamented his loss ; but now he said anxiously : 
 
 ** He is lying there on the shelf ? But you forget that he 
 ought to have been kept in the little oratory of Toth, near 
 the library. He belongs to the sacred dog-faced apes,* 
 
 * The dog-faced baboon, Kynokephalos, was sacred to Toth as the 
 Moon-god. Mummies of the seapes have been found at Thebes and 
 
576 UARDA. 
 
 and all the sacred marks were found upon him. The 
 librarian gave him into your charge to have his bad eye 
 cured." 
 
 "That was quite well," answered Nebsecht, carelessly. 
 
 " But they will require the uninjured corpse of you, to 
 embalm it," said Pentaur. 
 
 " Will they.?" muttered Nebsecht ; and he looked at his 
 friend like a boy who is asked for an apple that has long 
 been eaten. 
 
 "And you have already been doing something with it," 
 said Pentaur, in a tone of friendly vexation. 
 
 The leech nodded. "I have opened him, and exam- 
 ined his heart." 
 
 "You are as much set on hearts as a coquette ! " said 
 Pentaur. " What is become of the human heart that the 
 old paraschites was to get for you ? " 
 
 Nebsecht related without reserve what the old man had 
 done for him, and said that he had inves'tigated the 
 human heart, and had found nothing in it different from 
 what he had discovered in the heart of beasts. 
 
 "But I must see it in connection with the other organs 
 of the human body, " cried he ; " and my decision is made. 
 I shall leave the House of Seti, and ask the kolchytes to 
 take me into their guild. If it is necessary I will first per- 
 form the duties of the lowest paraschites. " 
 
 Pentaur pointed out to the leech what a bad exchange 
 he would be making, and at last exclaimed, when Nebsecht 
 eagerly contradicted him : "This dissecting of the heart 
 does not please me. You say yourself that you learned 
 nothing by it. Do you still think it a right thing, a fine 
 thing — or simply useless ? " 
 
 "I do not trouble myself about it," replied Nebsecht. 
 "Whether my observations seem good or evil, right or 
 heinous, useful or useless, I want to know how things are, 
 nothing more." 
 
 "And so for mere curiosity," cried Pentaur, "you 
 would endanger the blissful future of thousands of your 
 fellow-men, take upon yourself the most abject duties, and 
 
 Hermopolis, and they are often represented as reading with much 
 gravity. Statues of them have been found in great quantities, and there 
 is a particularly lifelike picture of a Kynokephalos in relief on the left 
 wall of the library of the temple of Isis at Philoe. 
 
UARDA. 277 
 
 leave this noble scene of your labors, where we all strive 
 for enlightenment, for inward knowledge and truth. " 
 
 The naturalist laughed scornfully ; the veins swelled 
 angrily in Pentaur's forehead, and his voice took a threat- 
 ening tone as he asked : 
 
 'And do you believe that your fingers and your eyes 
 have lighted on the truth, when the noblest souls have 
 striven in vain for thousands of years to find it out ? 
 You descend beneath the level of human understanding by 
 madly wallowing in the mire ; and the more clearly you are 
 convinced that you have seized the truth, the more utterly 
 are you involved in the toils of a miserable delusion." 
 
 *' If I believed I knew the truth should I so eagerly seek 
 it ? " asked Nebsecht. ' ' The more I observe and learn, the 
 more deeply I feel my want of knowledge and power." 
 
 *' That sounds modest enough," said the poet, "but I 
 know the arrogance to which your labors are leading you. 
 Everything that you see with your own eyes and touch 
 with you own hand, you think infallible, and everything 
 that escapes your observation you secretly regard as un- 
 true, and pass by with a smile of superiority. But you 
 cannot carry your experiments beyond the external world, 
 and you forget that there are things which lie in a differ- 
 ent realm." 
 
 *' I know nothing of those things," answered Nebsecht, 
 quietly. 
 
 ''But we — the initiated," cried Pentaur, "turn our at- 
 tention to them also. Thoughts — traditions — as to their 
 conditions and agency have existed among us for a thou- 
 sand years ; hundreds of generations of men have examined 
 these traditions, have approved them, and have handed 
 them down to us. All our knowledge, it is true, is de- 
 fective, and yet prophets have been favored with the gift 
 of looking into the future ; magic powers have been 
 vouchsafed to mortals. All this is contrary to the laws of 
 the external world, which are all that you recognize, and 
 yet it can easily be explained if we accept the idea of a 
 higher order of things. The spirit of the divinity dwells 
 in each of us, as in nature. The natural man can only 
 attain to such knowledge as is common to all ; but it is 
 the divine capacity for serene discernment — which is om- 
 niscience — that works in the seer ; it is the divine andun* 
 
278 UARDA. 
 
 limited power — which is omnipotence — that from time 
 to time enables the magician to produce supernatural 
 effects I " 
 
 "Away with prophets and marvels ! " cried Nebsecht. 
 
 "I should have thought," said Pentaur, "that even the 
 laws of nature which you recognize presented the greatest 
 marvels daily to your eyes ; nay the Supreme One, does 
 not disdain sometimes to break through the common order 
 of things, in order to reveal to that portion of Himself 
 which we call our soul, the sublime Whole of which we 
 form part — Himself. Only to day you have seen how the 
 heart of the sacred ram " 
 
 " Man, man ! " Nebsecht interrupted, " the sacred heart 
 is the heart of a hapless sheep that a sot of a soldier sold 
 for a trifle to a haggling grazier, and that was slaughtered 
 in a common herd. A worthy paraschites put it into the 
 body of Rui, and — and — " he opened the cupboard, threw 
 the carcass of the ape and some clothes on to the floor, 
 and took out an alabaster bowl which he held before the 
 poet — " the muscles you see here in brine, this machine, 
 once beat in the breast of the prophet Rui. My sheep's 
 heart will be carried to-morrow in the procession ! I 
 would have told you all about it if I had not promised the 
 
 old man to hold my tongue, and then But what ails you, 
 
 man ? " 
 
 Pentaur had turned away from his friend, and covered 
 his face with his hands, and he groaned as if he were suf- 
 fering some frightful physical pain. 
 
 Nebsecht divined what was passing in the mind of his 
 friend. Like a child that has to ask forgiveness of its 
 mother for some misdeed, he went close up to Pentaur, but 
 stood trembling behind him, not daring to speak to him. 
 
 Several minutes passed. Suddenly Pentaur raised his 
 head, lifted his hands to heaven ; and cried : 
 
 " O Thou ! the One ! — though stars may fall from the 
 heavens in summer nights, still Thy eternal and immu- 
 table laws guide the never-resting* planets in their paths. 
 Thou pure and all-pervading Spirit, that dwellest in me, 
 as I know by my horror of a lie, manifest Thyself in me — 
 as light when I think, as mercy when I act, and when 1 
 speak, as truth — always as truth I " 
 
 * In the sacred writings the planets are called " the Never-resting." 
 
UARDA. 279 
 
 The poet spoke these words with absorbed fervor, and 
 Nebsecht heard them as if they were speech from some 
 distant and beautiful world. He went affectionately up to 
 his friend, and eagerly held out his hand. Pentaur grasped 
 it, pressed it warmly, and said: 
 
 " That was a fearful moment I You do not know what 
 Ameni has been to me, and now, now ! " 
 
 He hardly had ceased speaking when steps were heard 
 approaching the physician's room, and a young priest re- 
 quested the friends to appear at once in the meeting-room 
 of the Initiated. In a few moments they both entered 
 the great hall, which was brilliantly lighted. 
 
 Not one of the chiefs of the House of Seti was absent. 
 
 Ameni sat on a raised seat at a long table ; on his right 
 hand was old Gagabu, on his left the third prophet of the 
 temple. The principals of the different orders of priests 
 had also found places at the table, and among them the 
 chief of the haruspices, while the rest of the priests, all in 
 snow-white linen robes, sat, with much dignity, in a large 
 semicircle, two rows deep. In the midst stood a statue of 
 the goddess of Truth and Justice. 
 
 Behind Ameni's throne was the many-colored image of 
 the ibis-headed Toth, who presided over the measure and 
 method of things, who counseled the gods as well as men, 
 and presided over learning and the arts. In a niche at 
 the further end of the hall were painted the divine Triad of 
 Thebes, withRameses I. and his son Seti, who approached 
 them with offerings. The priests were placed with strict 
 regard to their rank, and the order of initiation. Pentaur's 
 was the lowest place of all. 
 
 No discussion of any importance had as yet taken place, 
 for Ameni was making inquiries, receiving information, 
 and giving orders with reference to the next day's festival. 
 All seemed to be well arranged, and promised a magnifi- 
 cent solemnity ; although the scribes complained of the 
 scarce influx of beasts from the peasants, who were so 
 heavily taxed for the war ; and although that feature would 
 be wanting in the procession which was wont to give it the 
 greatest splendor — the presence of the king and the royal 
 family. 
 
 This circumstance aroused the disapprobation of some of 
 the priests, who were of opinion that it would be hazardous 
 
28o UARDA. 
 
 to exclude the two children of Rameses, who remained In 
 Thebes, from any share in the solemnities of the feast. 
 
 Ameni then rose. 
 
 "We have sent the boy Rameri," he said, ** away from 
 this house. Bent-Anat must be purged of her uncleanness, 
 and if the weak superior of the temple of Amon absolves 
 her, she may pass for purified over there, where they live 
 for this world only, but not here, where it is our duty to 
 prepare the soul for death. The regent, a descendant of 
 the great deposed race of kings, will appear in the proces- 
 sion with all the splendor of his rank. I see you are sur- 
 prised, my friends. Only he ! Ay ! Great things are 
 stirring, and it may happen that soon the mild sun of 
 peace may rise upon our war-ridden people. 
 
 "Miracles are happening," he continued, '*and in a 
 dream I saw a gentle and pious man on the throne of the 
 earthly vicar of Ra. He listened to our counsel, he gave 
 us our due, and led back to our fields our serfs that had 
 been sent to the war ; he overthrew the altars of the strange 
 gods, and drove the unclean stranger out from this holy 
 land." 
 
 " The Regent Ani ! " exclaimed Septah. 
 
 An eager movement stirred the assembly, but Ameni 
 went on : 
 
 "Perhaps it was not unlike him, but he certainly was 
 the One ; he had the features of the true and legitimate 
 descendants of Ra, to whom Rui was faithful, in whose 
 breast the heart of the sacred ram found a refuge. To- 
 morrow this pledge of the divine grace shall be shown to 
 the people, and another mercy will also be announced to 
 them. Hear and praise the dispensations of the Most 
 High ! An hour ago I received the news that a new Apis, 
 with all the sacred marks upon him, has been found in 
 the herds of Ani at Hermonthis." 
 
 Fresh excitement was shown by the listening conclave. 
 Ameni let their astonishment express itself freely, but at 
 last he exclaimed : 
 
 "And now to settle the last question. The priest Peri- 
 taur, who is now present, has been appointed speaker at 
 the festival to-morrow. He has erred greatly, yet I think 
 we need not judge him till after the holy day, and, in 
 consideration of his former innocence, need not deprive 
 
UARDA. 281 
 
 him of the honorable office. Do you share my wishes ? 
 Is there no dissentient voice? Then come forward, you, 
 the youngest of us ail, who are so highly trusted by this 
 holy assembly." 
 
 Pentaur rose and placed himself opposite to Ameni in 
 order to give, as he was required to do, a broad outline of 
 the speech he proposed to deliver next day to the nobles 
 and the people. 
 
 The whole assembly, even his opponents, listened to 
 him with approbation. Ameni, too, praised him, but 
 added : 
 
 ''I miss only one thing on which you must dwell at 
 greater length, and treat with warmer feeling — I mean 
 the miracle which has stirred our souls to-day. We must 
 show that the gods brought the sacred heart " 
 
 " Allow me," said Pentaur, interrupting the high-priest, 
 and looking earnestly into those eyes which long since he 
 had sung of, ** allow me to entreat you not to select me to 
 declare this new marvel to the people." 
 
 Astonishment was stamped on the face of every mem- 
 ber of the assembly. Each looked at his neighbor, then 
 at Pentaur, and at last inquiringly at Ameni. The superior 
 knew Pentaur, and saw that no mere whimsical fancy, 
 but some serious motive, had given rise to this refusal. 
 Horror, almost aversion, had rung in his tone as he said 
 the words ''new marvel." 
 
 He doubted the genuineness of this divine manifesta- 
 tion. 
 
 Ameni gazed long and inquiringly into Pentaur's eyes, 
 and then said : **You are right, my friend. Before judg- 
 ment has been passed on you, before you are reinstated 
 in your old position, your lips are not worthy to announce 
 this divine wonder to the multitude. Look into your own 
 soul, and teach the devout a horror of sin, and show them 
 the way, which you must now tread, of purification of the 
 heart. I myself will announce the miracle. " 
 
 The white-robed audience hailed this decision of their 
 master with satisfaction. Ameni enjoined this thing on 
 one, on another, that ; and on all, perfect silence as to the 
 dream which he had related to them, and then he dis- 
 solved the meeting. He begged only Gagabu and Pentaiu 
 to rern^in, 
 
282 UARDA. 
 
 As soon as they were alone Ameni asked the poet : 
 **Why did you refuse to announce to the people the 
 miracle which has filled all the priests of the Necropolis 
 with joy ? " 
 
 " Because thou hast taught me," replied Pentaur, " that 
 truth is the highest aim we can have, and that there is 
 nothing higher." 
 
 " I tell you so again now," said Ameni. ^* And as you 
 recognize this doctrine, I ask you, in the name of the fair 
 daughter of Ra, Do you doubt the genuineness of the 
 miracle that took place under our very eyes ? " 
 
 *' I doubt it," replied Pentaur. 
 
 * * Remain on the high stand-point of veracity, " continued 
 Ameni, *' and tell us further, that we may learn, what are 
 the scruples that shake your faith ? " 
 
 "I know," replied the poet, with a dark expression, 
 **that the heart which the crowd will approach and 
 bow to, before which even the Initiated prostrate them- 
 selves as if it had been the incarnation or Ra, was. 
 torn from the bleeding carcass of a common sheep, and 
 smuggled into the kanopus which contained the entrails 
 of Rui." 
 
 Ameni drew back a step, and Gagabu cried out : " Whoi 
 says so ? Who can prove it ? As I grow older I hear 
 more and more frightful things ! " 
 
 "I know it," said Pentaur, decidedly. "But I cannot 
 reveal the name of him from whom I learned it." 
 
 "Then we may believe that you are mistaken, and that 
 some impostor is fooling you. We will inquire who has 
 devised such a trick, and he shall be punished. To scorn 
 the voice of the Divinity is a sin, and he who lends his 
 ear to a lie is far from the truth. Sacred and thrice sacred 
 is the heart, blind fool, that I purpose to-morrow to show 
 to the people, and before which you yourself — if not with 
 good will, then by compulsion — shall fall, prostrate in the 
 dust. 
 
 " Go now and reflect on the words with which you will 
 stir the souls of the people to-morrow morning ; but know 
 one thing — Truth has many forms, and her aspects are as 
 manifold as those of the Godhead. As the sun does not 
 travel over a level plain or by a straight path — as the stars 
 follow a cirguitou^ course^ which we (pompare with tli9 
 
UARDA. 283 
 
 windings of the snake Mehen* — so the elect, who look 
 out over time and space, and on whom the conduct of 
 human life devolves, are not only permitted, but com- 
 manded, to follow indirect ways in order to reach the 
 highest aims, ways that you do not understand, and which 
 you may fancy deviate widely from the path of truth. You 
 look only at to-day, we look forward to to-morrow, and 
 what we announce as truth you must needs believe. And 
 mark my words : A lie stains the soul, but doubt eats into 
 it." 
 
 Ameni had spoken with strong excitement ; when Pen- 
 taur had left the room, and he was alone with Gagabu, he 
 exclaimed : 
 
 ''What things are these? Who is ruining the innocent 
 child-like spirit of this highly favored youth ? " 
 
 "He is ruining himself," replied Gagabu. "He is 
 putting aside the old law, for he feels a new one growing 
 up in his own breast." 
 
 " But the laws," exclaimed Ameni, "grow and spread 
 like shadowy woods ; they are made by no one. I loved 
 the poet, yet I must restrain him, else he will break down 
 all barriers, like the Nile when it swells too high. And 
 what he says of the miracle " 
 
 " Did you devise it ? " 
 
 " By the Holy One — no ! " cried Ameni. 
 
 " And yet Pentaur is sincere, and inclined to faith, " said 
 the old man, doubtfully. 
 
 " I know it," returned Ameni. " It happened as he 
 said. But who did it, and who told him of the shameful 
 deed ? " 
 
 Both the priests stood thoughtfully gazing at the floor. 
 
 Ameni first broke the silence. 
 
 " Pentaur came in withNebsecht,"he exclaimed, "and 
 they are intimate friends. Where was the leech while I 
 was staying in Thebes ? " 
 
 * The snake Mehen (termed in the texts proceeding " from what is in 
 the abyss ") is frequently represented in waves and curves, symbolizing 
 the winding course of tne sun during the night, in the under-world. 
 Mythological figures of snakes have quite as often a benevolent as a 
 malevolent significance ; snakes were kept in every temple, and mummies 
 of snakes, particularly of Vipera cerastes^ are found at Thebes. Plutarch 
 says the snake was hel4 sacred because it glides along without linibsi 
 lUtQ the stars. 
 
284 UARDA. 
 
 '* He was taking care of the child hurt by Bent-Anat-'- 
 the child of the paraschites Pinem, and he stayed there 
 three days," replied Gagabu. 
 
 " And it was Pinem," said Ameni, " that opened the 
 body of Rui ! It was that inquisitive stutterer, and he shall 
 be made to repent of it. For the present let us think of 
 to-morrow's feast, but the day after I will examine that 
 nice couple, and will act with iron severity." 
 
 " First let us examine the naturalist in private," said 
 Gagabu. *'He is an ornament to the temple, for he has 
 investigated many matters, and his dexterity is wonder- 
 ful." 
 
 ** All that may be considered after the festival," Ameni 
 said, interrupting the old man. *'We have enough to 
 think of at present." 
 
 "And even more to consider later," retorted Gagabu. 
 "We have entered on a dangerous path. You know very 
 well I am still hot-headed, though I am old in years, and 
 alas ! timidity was never my weakness ; but Rameses is a 
 powerful man, and duty compels me to ask you, is it mere 
 hatred for the king that has led you to take these hasty 
 and imprudent steps ? " 
 
 "I have not hatred for Rameses," answered Ameni, 
 gravely. " If he did not wear the crown I could love him ; 
 I know him too, as well as if I were his brother, and value 
 all that is great in him ; nay, I will admit that he is dis- 
 figured by no littleness. If I did not know how strong the 
 enemy is, we might try to overthrow him with smaller 
 means. You know as well as I do that he is our enemy. 
 Not yours, nor mine, nor the enemy of the go^s ; but the 
 enemy of the old and reverend ordinances by which this 
 people and this country must be governed, and above all 
 of those who are required to protect the wisdom of the 
 fathers, and to point out the right way to the sovereign — 
 I mean the priesthood, whom it is my duty to lead, and 
 for whose rights I will fight with every weapon of the 
 spirit. In this contest, as you know, all that otherwise 
 would be falsehood, treachery, and cunning, puts on the 
 bright aspect of light and truth. As the physician needs 
 the knife and fire to heal the sick, we must do fearful things 
 to save the community when it is in danger. Now you 
 will see me fight with every weapon, for if we rernain idl§ 
 
UARDA. 285 
 
 we shall soon cease to be the leaders of the state, and 
 become the slaves of the king." 
 
 Gag-abu nodded assent, but Ameni went on with increas- 
 ing warmth, and in that rhythmical accent in which, 
 when he came out of the holy of holies, he was accus- 
 tomed to declare the will of the Divinity : ** You were 
 my teacher, and I value you, and so you now shall be told 
 everything that stirred my soul, and made me first 
 resolve upon this fearful struggle. I was, as you know, 
 brought up in this temple with Rameses — and it was very 
 wise of Seti to let his son grow up here with other boys. 
 At work and at play the heir to the throne and I won 
 every prize. He was quite my superior in swift apprehen- 
 sion — in keen perception — but I had greater caution, and 
 deeper purpose. Often he laughed at my laborious efforts, 
 but his brilliant powers appeared to me a vain delusion. 
 I became one of the initiated, he ruled the state in part- 
 nership with his father, and, when Seti died, by himself 
 We both grew older, but the foundation of our characters 
 remained the same. He rushed to splendid victories, 
 overthrew nations, and raised the glory of the Egyptian 
 name to a giddy height, though stained with the blood of 
 his people ; I passed my life in industry and labor, in 
 teaching the young, and in guarding the laws which regu- 
 late the intercourse of men and bind the people to the 
 Divinity. I compared the present with the past ; What 
 were the priests ? How had they come to be what they 
 are ? What would Egypt be without them ? There is not 
 an art, not a science, not a faculty that is not thought 
 out, constructed, and practiced by us. We crown the 
 kings, we named the gods, and taught the people to honor 
 them as divine — for the crown needs a hand to lead it, and 
 under which it shall tremble as under the mighty hand 
 of fate. We are the willing ministers of the divine repre- 
 sentative of Ra on the throne, so long as he rules in ac- 
 cordance with our institutions — as the One God reigns, 
 subject to eternal laws. He used to choose his counselors 
 from among us ; we told him what would benefit the coun- 
 try, he heard us willingly, and executed our plans. The 
 old kings were the hands, but we, the priests, were the 
 head. And now, my father, what has become of us ? We 
 are made use of to keep the people in the faith, for if they 
 
286 UARDA. 
 
 cease to honor the gods how will they submit to kings ? 
 Seti ventured much, his son risks still more, and therefore 
 both have required much succor from the immortals. 
 Rameses is pious, he sacrifices frequently, and loves prayer ; 
 we are necessary to him, to waft incense, to slaughter 
 hecatombs, to offer prayers and to interpret dreams — but 
 we are no longer his advisers. My father, now in Osiris, 
 a worthier high-priest than I, was charged by the prophets 
 to entreat his father to give up the guilty project of con- 
 necting the north sea by a navigable channel with the 
 unclean waters of the Red Sea.* Such things can only 
 benefit the Asiatics. But Seti would not listen to our 
 counsel. We desired to preserve the old division of the 
 land, but Rameses introduced the new to the disad- 
 vantage of the priests ; we warned him against fresh wars, 
 and the king again and again has taken the field ; we had 
 the ancient sacred documents which exempted our peas- 
 antry from military service, and, as you know, he outrage- 
 ously defies them. From the most ancient times no one 
 has been permitted to raise temples in this land to strange 
 gods, and Rameses favors the son of the stranger, and, 
 not only in the north country, but in the reverend city of 
 Memphis and here in Thebes, he has raised altars and 
 magnificent sanctuaries, in the strangers' quarter, to the 
 sanguinaryf false gods of the East. " 
 
 ** You speak like a Seer," cried old Gagabu, " and what 
 you say is perfectly true. We are still called priests, but 
 alas ! our counsel is little asked. * You have to prepare 
 men for a happy lot in the other world,' Rameses once 
 said ; ' I alone can guide their destinies in this.' " 
 
 " He did say so," answered Ameni, "and if he had said 
 no more than that he would have been doomed. He and 
 his house are the enemies of our rights and of our noble 
 country. Need I tell you from whom the race of the 
 Pharaoh is descended ? Formerly the hosts who came from 
 the east, and fell on our land like swarms of locusts, rob- 
 
 *The harbors of the Red Sea were in the hands of the Phoenicians, 
 who sailed from thence southward to enrich themselves with the produce 
 of Arabia and Ophir. Pharaoh Necho also projected a Suez canal, but 
 does not appear to have carried it out, as the oracle declared that the 
 utility of the undertaking would be greatest to foreigners. 
 
 t Human sacrifices, which had been introduced into Egypt by the 
 Phoenicians, were very early abolished. 
 
UARDA. 287 
 
 bing and destroying it, were spoken of as 'a curse ' and a 
 * pest ' Rameses' father was of that race. When Ani's 
 ancestors expelled the Hyksos, the 'bold chief, whose chil- 
 dren now govern Egypt, obtained the favor of being 
 allowed to remain on the banks of the Nile ; they served 
 in the armies, they distinguished themselves, and, at last, 
 the first Rameses succeeded in gaining the troops over to 
 himself, and in pushing the old race of the legitimate sons 
 of Ra, weakened as they were by heresy, from the throne. 
 I must confess, however unwillingly, that some priests of 
 the true faith — among them your grandfather and mine — 
 supported the daring usurper who clung faithfully to the 
 old traditions. Not less than a hundred generations of my 
 ancestors, and of yours, andof many other priestly families, 
 have lived and died here by the banks of the Nile — of 
 Rameses' race we have seen ten, and only know of them 
 that they descend from strangers, from the caste of Amu ! 
 He is like all the Semitic race ; they love to wander, they 
 call us plowmen,* and laugh to scorn the sober regularity 
 with which we, tilling the dark soil, live through our lives 
 to a tardy death, in honest labor both of mind and body. 
 They sweep round on foraying excursions, ride the salt 
 waves in ships, and know no loved and fixed home ; they 
 settle down wherever they are tempted by rapine, and 
 when there is nothing more to be got they build a house 
 in another spot. Such was Seti, such is Rameses ! For a 
 year he will stop in Thebes, then he must set out for wars 
 in strange lands. He does not know how to yield piously, 
 or to take advice of wise counselors, and he will not 
 learn. And such as the father is, so are the children I 
 Think of the criminal behavior of Bent-Anat ! 
 
 *' I said the kings liked foreigners. Have you duly con- 
 sidered the importance of that to us ? We strive for high 
 and noble aims, and have wrenched off the shackles of the 
 flesh in order to guard our souls. The poorest man lives 
 secure under the shelter of the law, and through us par- 
 ticipates in the gifts of the spirit ; to the rich are offered 
 the priceless treasures of art and learning. Now look 
 abroad, east and west wandering tribes roam over the 
 desert with wretched tents ; in the south a debased popu- 
 
 * The word Fellah (pi. Fellahin) means plowman. 
 
288 UARDA. 
 
 lace prays to feathers, and to abject idols, who are beaten 
 if the worshiper is not satisfied. In the north certainly 
 there are well-regulated states, but the best part of the 
 arts and sciences which they possess they owe to us, and 
 their altars will reek with the loathsome sacrifice of human 
 blood. Only backsliding from the right is possible under 
 the stranger, and therefore it is prudent to withdraw from 
 him ; therefore he is hateful to our gods. And Rameses, 
 the king, is a stranger, by blood and by nature, in his 
 affections, and in his appearance ; his thoughts are always 
 abroad — this country is too small for him — and he will 
 never perceive what is really best for him, clear as his 
 intellect is. He will listen to no guidance, he does mis- 
 chief to Egypt, and therefore I say : Down with him from 
 the throne ! " 
 
 " Down with him ! " Gagabu eagerly echoed the words. 
 Ameni gave the old man his hand, which trembled with 
 excitement, and went on more calmly. 
 
 ''The Regent Ani is a legitimate child of the soil, by 
 his father and mother both. I know him well, and I am 
 sure that though he is cunning indeed, he is full of true 
 veneration, and will righteously establish us in the rights 
 which we have inherited. The choice is easy ; I have 
 chosen, and I always carry through what I have once 
 begun ! Now you know all, and you will second me." 
 
 "■ With body and soul ! " cried Gagabu. 
 
 ''Strengthen the hearts of the brethren," said Ameni, 
 preparing to go. "The initiated may all guess what is 
 going on, but it must never be spoken of." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVn. 
 
 The sun was up on the twenty-ninth morning of the 
 second month of the overflow of the Nile,* and citizens 
 and their wives, old men and children, freemen and 
 
 * The twenty-ninth Phaophi. The Egyptians divided the year into 
 three seasons of four months each. Flood-time, Seed-time and Harvest. 
 {Scha per ?ind schemu.) The twenty-ninth Phaophi corresponds to the 
 •ighth of November. 
 
UARDA. 289 
 
 slaves, led by priests, did homage to the rising day-star 
 before the door of the temple to which the quarter of the 
 town belonged where each one dwelt. 
 
 The Thebans stood together like huge families before 
 the pylons, waiting for the processions of priests, which 
 they intended to join in order to march in their train 
 round the great temple of the city, and thence to cross 
 with the festal barks to the Necropolis. 
 
 To-day was the feast of the Valley, and Amon, the 
 great God of Thebes, was carried over in solemn pomp to 
 the City of the Dead, in order that he — as the priests said — 
 might sacrifice to his fathers in the other world. The 
 train marched westward ; for there, where the earthly 
 remains of man also found rest, the millions of suns had 
 disappeared, each of which was succeeded daily by a new 
 one, born of the night. The young luminary, the priests 
 said, did not forget those that had been extinguished, and 
 from whom he was descended ; and Amon paid them this 
 mark of respect to warn the devout not to forget those 
 who were passed away, and to whom they owed their 
 existence. 
 
 ''Bring offerings," says a pious text, *'to thy father 
 and thy mother who rest in the valley of the tombs ; for 
 he who gives these offerings is as acceptable to the gods 
 as if they were brought to themselves. Often visit thy 
 dead, so that what thou dost for them, thy son may do 
 for thee. " * 
 
 The feast of the Valley was a feast of the dead ; but it 
 was not a melancholy solemnity, observed with lamenta- 
 tion and wailing ; on the contrary, it was a cheerful 
 festival, devoted to pious and sentimental memories of 
 those whom we cease not to love after death, whom we 
 esteem happy and blessed, and of whom we think with 
 affection ; to whom too the throng from Thebes brought 
 offerings, forming groups in the chapel-like tombs, or in 
 front of the graves, to eat and drink. 
 
 Father, mother and children clung together ; the house- 
 slaves followed with provisions, and with torches, which 
 
 * P'rom the Papyrus IV., at Bulaq., which contains moral precepts. It 
 has been published by Mariette, and translated by Brugsch, E. de 
 Rouge, and lastly treated with admirable analysis by Chabas, in 1' Egypt- 
 otvgie. 
 19 
 
290 UARDA. 
 
 would light up the darkness of the tomb and show the 
 way home at night 
 
 Even the poorest had taken care to secure beforehand a 
 place in one of the large boats which conveyed the people 
 across the stream ; the barges of the rich, dressed in the 
 gayest colors, awaited their owners with their households, 
 and the children had dreamed all night of the sacred bark 
 of Amon, whose splendor, as their mothers told them, was 
 hardly less than that of the golden boat in which the Sun- 
 god and his companions make their daily voyage across 
 the ocean of heaven. The broad landing-place of the 
 temple of Amon was already crowded with priests, the 
 shore with citizens, and the river with boats ; already loud 
 music drowned the din of the crowds, who thronged and 
 pushed, enveloped in clouds of dust, to reach the boats ; 
 the houses and hovels of Thebes were all empty, and the 
 advent of the god through the temple gates was eagerly 
 expected ; but still the members of the royal family had 
 not appeared, who were wont on this solemn day to go 
 on foot to the great temple of Amon ; and, in the crowd, 
 many a one asked his neighbor why Bent-Anat, the fair 
 daughter of Rameses, lingered so long, and delayed the 
 starting of the procession. 
 
 The priests had begun their chant within the walls, 
 which debarred the outer world from any glimpse into the 
 bright precincts of the temple; the regent with his brill- 
 iant train had entered the sanctuary ; the gates were 
 thrown open ; the youths in their short aprons, who threw 
 flowers in the path of the god, had come out ; clouds of 
 incense announced the approach of Amon — and still the 
 daughter of Rameses appeared not. 
 
 Many rumors were afloat, most of them contradictory ; 
 but one was accurate, and confirmed by the temple serv- 
 ants, to the great regret of the crowd — Bent-Anat was 
 excluded from the feast of the Valley. 
 
 She stood on her balcony with her brother Rameri and 
 her friend Nefert, and looked down on the river, and on 
 the approaching god. 
 
 Early in the previous morning Bek-en-Chunsu, the old 
 high-priest of the temple of Amon, had pronounced her 
 clean, but in the evening he had come to communicate to 
 her the intelligence that Ameni prohibited her entering 
 
UARDA. a^I 
 
 the Necropolis before she had obtained the forgiveness of 
 the gods of the West for her offence. 
 
 While still under the ban of uncleanness she had visited 
 the temple of Hathor, and had detiled it by her presence ; 
 and the stern superior of the City of the Dead was in the 
 right— that Bek-en-Chunsu himself admitted — in closing 
 the western shore against her. Bent-Anat then had re- 
 course to Ani ; but, although he promised to mediate for 
 her, he came late in the evening to tell her that Ameni 
 was inexorable. The regent at the same time, with every 
 appearance of regret, advised her to avoid an open quar- 
 rel, and not to defy Ameni's lofty severity, but to remain 
 absent from the festival. 
 
 Katuti at the same time sent the dwarf to Nefert to de- 
 sire her to join her mother, in taking part in the proces- 
 sion, and in sacrificing in her father's tomb ; but Nefert 
 replied that she neither could nor would leave her royal 
 friend and mistress. 
 
 Bent-Anat had given leave of absence to the highest 
 •members of her household, and had prayed them to think 
 of her at the splendid solemnity. 
 
 When, from her balcony, she saw the mob of people and 
 the crowd of boats, she went back into her room, called 
 Rameri, who was angrily declaiming at what he called 
 Ameni's insolence, took his hands in hers and said : 
 
 " We have both done wrong, brother; let us patiently 
 submit to the consequences of our faults, and conduct 
 ourselves as if our father were with us." 
 
 "He would tear the panther-skin from the haughty 
 priest's shoulders, "cried Rameri, " if he dared to humili- 
 ate you so in his presence ; " and tears of rage ran down 
 his smooth cheeks as he spoke. 
 
 "Put anger aside," said Bent Anat. " You were still 
 quite little the last time my father took part in this 
 festival." 
 
 "Oh! I remember that morning well," exclaimed 
 Rameri, "and shall never forget it." 
 
 " So I should think," said the princess. " Do not leave 
 us, Nefert — you are now my sister. It was a glorious 
 morning ; we children were collected in the great hall of 
 the king, all in festival dresses ; he had us called into this 
 room, which had been inhabited by my mother, who then 
 
292 
 
 UARDA. 
 
 had been dead only a few months. He took each of us by 
 the hand, and said he forgave us everything we might 
 have done wrong if only we were sincerely penitent, and 
 gave us each a kiss on our forehead. Then he beckoned 
 us all to him, and said, as humbly as if he were one of us 
 instead of the great king, ' Perhaps I may have done one 
 of you some injustice, or have kept you out of some right ; 
 I am not conscious of such a thing, but if it has occurred 
 I am very sorry' — we all rushed upon him, and wanted to 
 kiss him, but he put us aside smiling, and said, * Each of 
 you has enjoyed an equal share of one thing, that you may 
 be sure — I mean your father's love ; and I see now that 
 you return what I have given you.' Then he spoke of our 
 mother, and said that even the tenderest father could not 
 fill the place of a mother. He drew a lovely picture of 
 the unselfish devotion of the dead mother, and desired us 
 to pray and to sacrifice with him at her resting-place, and 
 to resolve to be worthy of her ; not only in great things 
 but in trifles too, for they make up the sum of life, as 
 hours make the days, and the years. We elder ones 
 clasped each other's hands, and I never felt happier than 
 in that moment, and afterward by my mother's grave." 
 
 Nefert raised her eyes that were wet with tears. 
 
 ** With such a father it must be easy to be good," she 
 said. 
 
 "Did your mother never speak good words that went 
 to your heart on the morning of this festival ? " asked 
 Bent-Anat. 
 
 Nefert colored, and answered : "We were always late 
 in dressing and then had to hurry to be at the temple in 
 time. " 
 
 "Then let me be your mother to-day," cried the prin- 
 cess, * * and yours too, Rameri. Do you not remember how 
 my father offered forgiveness to the officers of the court, 
 and to all the servants, and how he enjoined us to root out 
 every grudge from our hearts on this day ? ' Only stainless 
 garments,' he said, 'befit this feast ; only hearts without 
 spot.' So, brother, I will not hear an evil word about 
 Ameni, who is most likely forced to be severe by the law ; 
 my father will inquire into it all and decide. My heart is 
 p«> full it must overflow. Come, Nefert, give me a kiss, 
 
 id you too, Rameri. Now I will go into my little temple, 
 
 I 
 
UARDA. 293 
 
 in which the images of our ancestors stand, and think of 
 my mother and the blessed spirits of those loved ones to 
 whom I may not sacrifice to-day." 
 
 **I will go with you," said Rameri. 
 
 ** You, Nefert, stay here," said Bent-Anat, *' and cut as 
 many flowers as you like ; take the best and finest, and 
 make a wreath, and when it is ready we will send a mes- 
 senger across to lay it, with other gifts, on the grave of 
 your Mena's mother." 
 
 When, half an hour later, the brother and sister returned 
 to the young wife, two graceful garlands hung in Nefert's 
 hands, one for the grave of the dead queen and one for 
 Mena's mother. 
 
 *'I will carry over the wreaths and lay them on the 
 tombs," cried the prince. 
 
 **Ani thought it would be better that we should not 
 show ourselves to the people," said his sister. "They 
 will scarcely notice that you are not among the school- 
 boys, but " 
 
 "But I will not go over as the kings son, but as a gar- 
 dener's boy," interrupted the prince. "Listen to the 
 flourish of trumpets 1 the god has now passed through 
 the gates. " 
 
 Rameri stepped out into the balcony, and the two women 
 followed him and looked down on the scene of the em- 
 barkation, which they could easily see with their sharp 
 young eyes. 
 
 "It will be a thinner and poorer procession* without 
 either my father or us, that is one comfort, " said Rameri. 
 " The chorus is magnificent ; here come the plume-bearers 
 and singers ; there is the chief prophet of the great temple, 
 old Bek-en-Chunsu. How dignified he looks ; but he will 
 not like going. Now the god is coming, for I smell the 
 incense." 
 
 With these words the prince fell on his knees and the 
 women followed his example — when they saw first a noble 
 bull in whose shining skin the sun was reflected, and who 
 bore between his horns a golden disk, above which stood 
 white ostrich-feathers ; and then, divided from the bull 
 only by a few fan-bearers, the god himself, sometimes 
 
 * I have been guided in my description of the procession by the rep- 
 resentation of the feast of the Steps at Medinet Abu. 
 
294 UARDA. 
 
 visible, but more often hidden from sight by great semicir- 
 cular screens of black and white ostrich-feathers, which 
 were fixed on long poles, and with which the priests 
 shaded the god. 
 
 His mode of progress was as mysterious as his name, 
 for he seemed to float slowly on his gorgeous throne from 
 the temple gates toward the stream. His seat was placed 
 on a platform magnificently decorated with bunches and 
 garlands of flowers, and covered with hangings of purple 
 and gold brocade, which concealed the priests who bore 
 it along with a slow and even pace. 
 
 As soon as the god had been placed on board his barge, 
 Bent-Anat and her companions rose from their knees. 
 
 Then came some priests, who carried a box with the 
 sacred evergreen tree of Amon ; and when a -fresh out- 
 burst of music fell on her ear, and a cloud of incense was 
 wafted up to her, Bent-Anat said : * ' Now my father should 
 be coming." 
 
 "And you," cried Rameri, " and close behind Nefert's 
 husband, Men a, with the guards. Uncle Ani comes on 
 foot. How strangely he has dressed himself like a sphinx 
 hind-part before ! " 
 
 " How so ? " asked Nefert. 
 
 "A sphinx," said Rameri, laughing, "has the body 
 of a lion, and the head of a man,* and my uncle has a 
 peaceful priest's robe, and on his head the helmet of a 
 warrior. " 
 
 "If the king were here, the distributor of life," said 
 Nefert, "you would not be missing from among his sup- 
 porters. " 
 
 " No indeed 1 " replied the prince, " and the whole thing 
 is altogether different when my father is here. His heroic 
 form is splendid on his golden throne ; the statues of 
 Truth and Justice spread their wings behind him as if to 
 protect him ; his mighty representative in fight, the lion, 
 lies peacefully before him, and over him spreads the can- 
 opy with the Uraeus snake at the top. There is hardly 
 any end to the haruspices, the pastophori with the stand- 
 ards, the images of the gods, and the flocks and herds for 
 sacrifice. Only think, even from the north they would 
 
 ■■'- Tiiere were no female sphinxes in Egypt. The sphinx was called Neb, 
 t. e.y the lord. The lion-couchant had either a man's or a ram's head. 
 
UARDA. 295 
 
 have sent representatives to the feast if my father had but 
 been here. I know all the different sij^ns on the stand- 
 ards.* Do you recognize the images of the king's ances- 
 tors, Nefert ? No ? no more do 1 ; but it seemed to me 
 that Ahmes I., who expelled the Hyksos — from whom our 
 grandmother was descended — headed the procession, and 
 not my grandfather Seti, as he should have done. Here 
 come the soldiers ; they are the legions which Ani equipped, 
 and who returned victorious from Ethiopia only last night. 
 How the people cheer them ! and indeed they have be- 
 haved valiantly. Only think, Bent-Anat and Nefert, what 
 it will be when my father comes home, with a hundred 
 captive princes, who will humbly follow his chariot, which 
 your Mena will drive, with our brothers and all the nobles 
 of the land, and the guards in their splendid chariots." 
 
 "They do not think of returning yet ! " sighed Nefert. 
 
 While more and more troops of the regent's soldiers, 
 more companies of musicians, and rare animals, f followed 
 in procession, the festal bark of Amon started from the 
 shore. 
 
 It was a large and gorgeous barge of wood, polished all 
 over and overlaid with gold, and its edge was decorated 
 with glittering glass beads, J which imitated rubies and 
 emeralds ; the masts and yards were gilt, and purple sails 
 floated from them. The seats for the priests were of ivory, 
 and garlands of lilies and roses hung round the vessel, 
 from its masts and ropes. 
 
 The regent's Nile-boat was not less splendid ; the wood- 
 work shone with gilding, the cabin was furnished with gay 
 Babylonian carpets ; a lion's-head formed the prow, as 
 formerly in Hatasu's sea-going vessels, and two large 
 
 * Every Nomos or province of Egypt had its heraldic badge, which on 
 solemn occasions was carried as a standard. There were complete lists of 
 the forty-four provinces as early as the time of Seti I. Those of Philae, 
 Edfu and Dendera give many interesting details, particularly as to the 
 religious observances, in each Nomos. See Harris, Brugsch, Dumichen 
 and J. de Rouge. 
 
 t A great number of foreign beasts were introduced in a procession 
 under Ptolemy Philadelphus, which is graphically described by Kallidenos, 
 an eye-witness. The Lagides imitate a custom which, as we learn from 
 the pictures in the tomb of Rech ma Ra, eighteenth dynasty, existed in 
 very early times. 
 
 t In many collections are imitations of precious stones which can 
 bardly be excelled by modem workmanship. 
 
296 UARDA. 
 
 rubies shone in it, for eyes. After the priests had em- 
 barked, and the sacred barge had reached the opposite 
 shore, the people pressed into the boats, which, filled 
 almost to sinking, soon so covered the whole breadth of 
 the river that there was hardly a spot where the sun was 
 mirrored in the yellow waters. 
 
 "Now I will put on the dress of a gardener," cried 
 Rameri, '* and cross over with the wreaths." 
 
 *' You w^ill leave us alone ?" asked Bent-Anat. 
 
 '' Do not make me anxious," said Rameri. 
 
 *'Go then," said the princess. "If my father were 
 here how willingly I would go too." 
 
 "Come with me," cried the boy. " We can easily find 
 a disguise for you too." 
 
 "Folly! " said Bent-Anat ; but she looked inquiringly 
 at Nefert, who shrugged her shoulders, as much as to say : 
 "' Your will is my law." 
 
 Rameri was too sharp for the glances of the friends to 
 have escaped him, and he exclaimed, eagerly : 
 
 "You will come with me, I see you will! Every 
 beggar to-day flings his flower into the common grave, 
 which contains the black mummy of his father — and shall 
 the daughter of Rameses, and the wife of the chief chariot- 
 eer, be excluded from bringing garlands to their dead ? " 
 
 "I shall defile the tomb by my presence," said Bent- 
 Anat, coloring. 
 
 "You — you!" exclaimed Rameri, throwing his arms 
 round his sister's neck, and kissing her. "You, a noble 
 generous creature, who live only to ease sorrow and to 
 wipe away tears ; you, the very image of my father — un- 
 clean ! sooner would I believe that the swans down there 
 are black as crows, and the rose-wreaths on the balcony 
 rank hemlock branches. Bek-en-Chunsu pronounced you 
 clean, and if Ameni " 
 
 "Ameni only exercises his rights," said Bent-Anat, 
 gently, "and you know what we have resolved. I will 
 not hear one hard word about him to-day." 
 
 "Very well ! he has graciously and mercifully kept us 
 from the feast," said Rameri, ironically, and he bowed low 
 in the direction of the Necropolis, "and you are unclean. 
 Do not enter the tombs and the temples on my account ; 
 let us stay outside among the people. The roads over 
 
UARDA. 297 
 
 there are not so very sensitive ; paraschites and other un- 
 clean folks pass over them every day. Be sensible, Bent- 
 Anat, and come. We will disguise ourselves ; I will 
 conduct you ; I will lay the garlands in the tombs, we will 
 pray together outside, we will see the sacred procession 
 and the feats of the magicians, and hear the festive dis- 
 course. Only think ! Pentaur, in spite of all they have 
 said against him, is to deliver it. The temple of Seti 
 wants to do its best to-day, and Ameni knows very well 
 that Pentaur, when he opens his mouth, stirs the hearts of 
 the people more than all the sages together if they were to 
 sing in chorus ! Come with me, sister." 
 
 "So be it then," said Bent-Anat, with sudden decision. 
 
 Rameri was surprised at this quick resolve, at which 
 however he was delighted ; but Nefert looked anxiously 
 at her friend. In a moment her eyes fell ; she knew now 
 who it was that her friend loved, and the fearful thought 
 — " How will it end I " flashed through her mind. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVni. 
 
 An hour later, a tall, plainly-dressed woman crossed the 
 Nile, with a dark-skinned boy and a slender youth by her 
 side. The wrinkles on her brow and cheeks agreed little 
 with her youthful features ; but it would have been diffi- 
 cult to recognize in these three the proud princess, the 
 fair young prince, and the graceful Nefert, who looked as 
 charming as ever in the long white robe of a temple- 
 student. 
 
 They were followed by two faithful and sturdy head- 
 servants from among the litter-bearers of the princess, who 
 were however commanded to appear as though they were 
 not in any way connected with their mistress and her 
 companions. 
 
 The passage across the Nile had been accomplished but 
 slowly, and thus the royal personages had experienced for 
 the first time some of the many difficulties and delays 
 which ordinary mortals mvst conquer to attain objects 
 
298 UARDA. 
 
 which almost fly to meet their rulers. No one preceded 
 them to clear the river, no other vessel made way for 
 them ; on the contrary, all tried to take place ahead of 
 them, and to reach the opposite shore before them. 
 
 When at last they reached the landing-place, the pro- 
 cession had already passed on to the temple of Seti ; 
 Ameni had met it with his chorus of singers, and had 
 received the god on the shore of the Nile ; the prophets of 
 the Necropolis had with their own hands placed him in 
 the sacred Sambark * of the House of Seti, which was 
 artistically constructed of cedar-wood and electrum set 
 with jewels ; thirty pastophori took the precious burden 
 on their shoulders, and bore it up the avenue of Sphinxes 
 — which led from the river to the temple — into the sanct- 
 uary of Seti, where Amon remained while the emissaries 
 from the different provinces deposited their offerings in the 
 forecourt. On his road from the shore kolchytes had run 
 before him, in accordance with an ancient custom, strew- 
 ing sand in his path. 
 
 In the course of an hour the procession once more 
 emerged into the open air, and turning to the south, rested 
 first in the enormous temple of Amenophis III., in front 
 of which the two giant statues stood as sentinels — they 
 still remain, the colossi of the Nile valley. Further to the 
 south it reached the temple of Thotmes the Great, f then 
 turning round, it clung to the eastern face of the Libyan 
 hills — pierced with tombs and catacombs ; it mounted the 
 terraces of the temple of Hatasu, and paused by the tombs 
 of the oldest kings which are in the immediate neighbor- 
 hood ; thus by sunset it had reached the scene of the- festi- 
 val itself, at the entrance of the valley in which the tomb 
 of Seti had been made, and in whose westernmost recesses 
 were some of the graves of the Pharaohs of the deposed 
 race. 
 
 This part of the Necropolis was usually visited by lamp- 
 light, and under the flare of torches, before the return of 
 
 * The sacred vessel of the god is so called in a picture still extant at 
 Qumah. 
 
 t The oldest portion of the temple of Medinet Abu. Lepsius and 
 Rhind (Thebes, and its Temples) both give plans which make the path 
 of procession easy to trace. Lepsius, " Denkmaler aus Egypten," is a 
 splendid work in ioYiq, 
 
 U 
 
UARDA. 299 
 
 the god to his own temple and the mystery-play on the 
 sacred lake, which did not begin till midnight. 
 
 Behind the god in a vase of transparent crystal, and borne 
 high on a pole that all the multitude might see it, was the 
 heart of the sacred ram. 
 
 Our friends, after they had laid their wreaths on the 
 magnificent altars of their royal ancestors without being 
 recognized, late in the afternoon joined the throng who 
 followed the procession. They mounted the eastern cliff 
 of the hills close by the tomb of Mena's forefathers, which 
 a prophet of Amon, named Neferhotep — Mena's great- 
 grandfather had constructed. Its narrow doorway was 
 besieged by a crowd, /or within the first of the rock- 
 chambers of which it consisted, a harper was singing a 
 dirge for the long-since buried prophet, his wife and his 
 sister. The song had been composed by the poet attached 
 to his house ; it was graven in the stone of the second rock- 
 room of the tomb, and Neferhotep had left a plot of 
 ground in trust to the Necropolis, with the charge of ad- 
 ministering its revenues for the payment of a minstrel, 
 who every year at the feast of the dead should sing the 
 monody to the accompaniment of his lute.* 
 
 The charioteer well knew this dirge, for his ancestor and 
 he had often sung it to Nefert, who had accompanied him 
 on her lute ; for in their hours of joy also— nay especially 
 — the Egyptians were wont to remember their dead. 
 
 Now the three companions listened to the minstrel as he 
 sang : 
 
 Now the great man is at rest, 
 Gone to practice sweeter duties. 
 
 Those that die are the elect 
 
 Since the gods have left the earth. 
 
 Old men pass and young men come ; 
 
 Yea, a new sun rises daily 
 
 When the old sun has found rest 
 
 In the bosom of the night. 
 
 Hail, O Prophet, on this feast day 
 Odorous balsams, fragrant resins 
 
 Here we bring — and offer garlands, 
 
 Throwing flowers down before thee, 
 
 And before thy much-loved sister, 
 
 Who has found her rest beside thee. 
 
 ♦The tomb of Neferhotep is well preserved, and in it the inscriptioti 
 from which this monody is translated. 
 
300 UARDA. 
 
 Songs we sing, and strike the lyre 
 To thy memory, and thine honor. 
 All our cares are now forgotten, 
 Joy and hope our breasts are filling ; 
 For the day of our departure 
 Now draws near, and in the silence 
 Of the farther shore is rest. 
 
 When the song ceased several people pressed into the 
 Uttle oratory to express their gratitude to the deceased 
 prophet by laying a few flowers on his altar. Nefert and 
 Rameri also went in, and when Nefert had offered a long 
 and silent prayer to the glorified spirit of her dead, that 
 they might watch over Mena, she Jaid her garland beside 
 the grave in which her husband's mother rested. 
 
 Many members of the court circle passed close to the 
 royal party without recognizing them ; they made every 
 effort to reach the scene of the festival, but the crowd was 
 BO great that the ladies had several times to get into a 
 tomb to avoid it. In each they found the altar loaded 
 with offerings, and, in most family-parties, who here re- 
 membered their dead with meat and fruits, beer and wine, 
 as though they were departed travelers who had found 
 some far-off rest, and whom they hoped sooner or later to 
 Bee again. 
 
 The sun was near setting when at last the princess and 
 her companions reached the spot where the feast was being 
 held. Here stood numbers of stalls and booths, with 
 eatables of every sort, particularly sweet cakes for the 
 children, dates, figs, pomegranates and other fruits. 
 Under light awnings, which kept off the sun, were sold 
 sandals and kerchiefs of every material and hue, orna- 
 ments, amulets, fans and sun-shades, sweet essences of 
 every kind, and other gifts for offerings or for the toilet. 
 The baskets of the gardeners and flower-girls were already 
 empty, but the money-changers were full of business, 
 and the tavern and gambling booths were driving a brisk 
 trade. 
 
 Friends and acquaintances greeted each other kindly, 
 while the children showed each other their new sandals, 
 the cakes they had won at the games, or the little copper 
 rings they had had given to them, and which must now 
 be laid out. The largest crowd was gathered to §ee 
 
UARDA. 301 
 
 the magicians from the House of Seti, round which 
 the mob squatted on the ground in a compact circle, 
 and the children were good-naturedly placed in the front 
 row. 
 
 When Bent-Anat reached the place all the religious so- 
 lemnity was ended. 
 
 There stood the canopy under which the king and his 
 family were used to listen to the festal discourse, and under 
 its shade sat to-day the Regent Ani. They could see, too, 
 the seats of the grandees, and the barriers which kept the 
 people at a distance from the regent, the priests, and the 
 nobles. 
 
 Here Ameni himself had announced to the multitude 
 the miracle of the sacred heart, and had proclaimed that a 
 new Apis had been found among the herds of the Regent 
 Ani. 
 
 His announcement of these divine tokens had been re- 
 peated from mouth to mouth ; they were omens of peace 
 and happiness for the country through the means of a 
 favorite of the gods ; and though no one said it, the dull- 
 est could not fail to see that this favorite was none other 
 than Ani, the descendant of the great Hatasu, whose 
 prophet had been graced by the transfer to him of the 
 heart of the sacred ram. All eyes were fixed on Ani, 
 who had sacrificed before all the people to the sacred 
 heart and received the high-priest's blessing. 
 
 Pentaur, too, had ended his discourse when Bent-Anat 
 reached the scene of the festival. She heard an old man 
 say to his son : 
 
 * ' Life is hard. It often seems to me like a heavy burden 
 laid on our poor backs by the cruel gods ; but when I 
 heard the young priest from the House of Seti I felt that 
 after all, the immortals are good, and we have much to 
 thank them for. " 
 
 In another place a priest's wife said to her son : 
 
 ''Could you see Pentaur well, Hor-Uza? He is of hum- 
 ble birth, but he stands above the greatest in genius and 
 gifts, and will rise to high things." 
 
 Two girls were speaking together, and one said to the 
 other : 
 
 **The speaker is the handsomest man I ever saw, and 
 his voice sounds like soft music." 
 
302 UARDA. 
 
 ''And how his eyes shone when he spoke of truth as 
 the highest of all virtues!" replied the other. **A11 the 
 gods, I believe, must dwell in him." 
 
 Bent-Anat colored as these words fell on her ear. It 
 was growing dark, and she wished to return home ; but 
 Rameri wished to follow the procession as it marched 
 through the western valley by torchlight, so that the 
 grave of his grandfather Seti should also be visited. The 
 princess unwillingly yielded, but it would in any case 
 have been difficult to reach the river while every one was 
 rushing in the opposite direction ; so the two ladies, and 
 Rameri, let themselves be carried along by the crowd, and 
 by the time the daylight was gone, they found themselves 
 in the western valley, where to-night no beasts of prey dared 
 show themselves ; jackals and hyenas had fled before the 
 glare of the torches, and the lanterns made of colored 
 papyrus. 
 
 The smoke of the torches mingled with the dust stirred 
 by a thousand feet, and the procession moved along, as it 
 were, in a cloud, which also shrouded the multitude that 
 followed. 
 
 The three companions had labored on as far as the hovel 
 of the paraschites Pinem, but here they were forced to 
 pause, for guards drove back the crowd to the right and 
 left with long staves, to clear a passage for the procession 
 as it approached. 
 
 "See, Rameri," said Bent-Anat, pointing out the little 
 yard of the hut which stood only a few paces from them. 
 "That is where the fair white girl lives, whom I ran over. 
 But she is much better. Turn round ; there, behind the 
 thorn-hedge, by the little fire which shines full in your 
 face — there she sits with her grandfather." 
 
 The prince stood on tiptoe, looked into the humble plot 
 of ground, and then said in a subdued voice : 
 
 "What a lovely creature ! But what is she doing with 
 that old man ? He seems to be praying, and she first holds 
 a handkerchief before his mouth, and then rubs his temples. 
 And how unhappy she looks ! " 
 
 "The paraschites must be ill," replied Bent-Anat. 
 
 " He must have had too much wine down at the feast," 
 said Rameri, laughing. * * No doubt of it ! Only look how 
 
UARDA. 303 
 
 nis lips tremble, and his eyes roll. It is hideous — he looks 
 like one possessed."* 
 
 " He is unclean too ! " said Nefert. 
 
 "But he is a good, kind man, with a tender heart," 
 exclaimed the princess, eagerly. " I have inquired about 
 him. He is honest and sober, and I am sure he is ill and 
 not drunk." 
 
 ** Now she is standing up," said Rameri, and he dropped 
 the paper-lantern which he had bought at a booth. ** Step 
 back, Bent-Anat, she must be expecting some one. Did you 
 ever see any one so very fair, and with such a pretty little 
 head. Even her red hair becomes her wonderfully ; but 
 she staggers as she stands — she must be very weak. Now 
 she has sat down again by the old man, and is rubbing 
 his forehead. Poor souls ! look how she is sobbing. I will 
 throw my purse over to them." 
 
 ** No, no ! " exclaimed Bent-Anat. ** I gave them plenty 
 of money, and the tears which they shed there cannot be 
 stanched with gold. I will send old Asnath over to-mor- 
 row to ask how we can help them. Look, here comes the 
 procession, Nefert. How rudely the people press ! As 
 soon as the god is gone by we will go home." 
 
 "Pray do," said Nefert. "I am so frightened I " and 
 she pressed trembling to the side of the princess. 
 
 " I wish we were at home, too," replied Bent-Anat. 
 
 " Only look ! " said Rameri. "There they are. Is it 
 not splendid ? And how the heart shines as if it were a 
 star!" 
 
 All the crowd, and with them our three friends, fell on 
 their knees. 
 
 The procession paused opposite to them, as it did at 
 every thousand paces ; a herald came forward, and glori- 
 fied, in a loud voice, the great miracle, to which now 
 another was added — the sacred heart since the night had 
 come on had begun to give out light. 
 
 Since his return home from the embalming house, the 
 
 * It was thought that the insane were possessed by demons. A stele 
 admirably treated by E. de Rouge exists at Paris, which relates that the 
 sister-in-law of Ramesis XII., who was possessed by devils, had them 
 driven out by the statue of Chunsu, which was sent to her in 
 Asia. 
 
304 UARDA. 
 
 paraschites had taken no nourishment, and had not 
 answered a word to the anxious questions of the two 
 frightened women. He stared bhndly, muttered a few 
 unintelligible words, and often clasped his forehead in his 
 hand. A few hours before he had laughed loud and sud- 
 denly, and his wife, greatly alarmed, had gone at once to 
 fetch the physician Nebsecht. 
 
 During her absence Uarda was to rub her grandfather's 
 temples with the leaves which the witch Hekt had laid on 
 her bruises, for as they had once proved efficacious they 
 might perhaps a second time scare away the demon of 
 sickness. 
 
 When the procession, with its thousand lamps and 
 torches, paused before the hovel, which was almost invisi; 
 ble in the dusk, and one citizen said to another : '* Here 
 comes the sacred heart ! " the old man started, and stood 
 up. His eyes stared fixedly at the gleaming relic in its 
 crystal case ; slowly, trembling in every limb, and with 
 outstretched neck he stood up. 
 
 The herald began his eulogy of the miracle. 
 
 Then, while all the people were prostrate in adoration, 
 listening motionless to the loud voice of the speaker, the 
 paraschites rushed out of his gate, striking his forehead 
 with his fists, and opposite the sacred heart he broke out 
 into a mad, loud fit of scornful laughter which re-echoed 
 from the bare cliffs that closed in the valley. 
 
 Horror fell on the crowd, who rose timidly from their 
 knees. 
 
 Ameni, who was close behind the heart, started too, 
 and looked round on the author of this hideous laugh. 
 He had never seen the paraschites, but he perceived the 
 glimmer of his little fire through the dust and gloom, and 
 he knew that he lived in this place. The whole case 
 struck him at once ; he whispered a few significant words 
 to one of the officers who marched with the troops on 
 each side of the procession ; then he gave the signal, 
 and the procession moved on as if nothing had hap- 
 pened. 
 
 The old man tried with still more loud and crazy 
 laughter to reach and seize the heart, but the crowd kept 
 him back ; and while the last groups passed on after the 
 priests, he contrived to slip back as far as the door of his 
 
UARDA. 
 
 305 
 
 hovel, though much damaged and hurt. There he fell, 
 and Uarda rushed out and threw herself overtheold man, 
 who lay on the earth, scarcely recognizable in the dust and 
 darkness. 
 
 ''Crush the scoffer !" 
 
 " Tear him in pieces ! '* 
 
 " Burn down the foul den ! " 
 
 "Throw him and the wench into the fire ! "shouted the 
 people, who had been disturbed in their devotions, wilh 
 wild fury. 
 
 Two old women snatched the lanterns from the posts, 
 and flung them at the unfortunate creatures, while an 
 Ethiopian soldier seized Uarda by the hair, and tore her 
 away from her grandfather. 
 
 At this moment Pin em's wife appeared, and with her 
 Pentaur. She had found not Nebsecht, but Pentaur, who 
 had returned to the temple after his speech. She had told 
 him of the demon who had fallen upon her husband, and 
 implored him to come with her. Pentaur immediately 
 followed her in his working dress, just as he was, without 
 putting on the white priest's robe, which he did not wish 
 to wear on this expedition. 
 
 When they drew near to the paraschites' hovel, he per- 
 ceived the tumult among the people, and, loud above all 
 the noise, heard Uarda's shrill cry of terror. He hurried 
 forward, and in the dull light of the scattered fire-brands 
 and colored lanterns, he saw the black hand of the soldier 
 clutching the hair of the helpless child ; quick as thought 
 he gripped the soldier's throat with his iron fingers, seized 
 him round the body, swung him in the air, and flung him 
 like a block of stone right into the little yard of the hut. 
 
 The people threw themselves on the champion in a 
 frenzy of rage, but he felt a sudden warlike impulse surging 
 up in him, which he had never felt before. With one 
 wrench he pulled out the heavy wooden pole which sup- 
 ported the awning which the old paraschites had put up 
 for his sick grandchild ; he swung it round his head, as if it 
 were a reed, driving back the crowd, while he called to 
 Uarda to keep close to him. 
 
 " He who touches the child is a dead man ! " he cried. 
 "Shame on you ! — falling on a feeble old man and a help* 
 less child in the middle of a holy festival I " 
 20 
 
3o6 UARDA. 
 
 For a moment the crowd was silent, but immediately 
 after rushed forward with fresh impetus, and wilder than 
 ever rose the shouts of : 
 
 ''Tear him to pieces ! burn his house down ! " 
 
 A few artisans from Thebes closed round the poet, who 
 was not recognizable as a priest. He, however, wielding 
 his tent-pole, felled them before they could reach him with 
 their fists or cudgels, and down went every man on whom 
 it fell. But the struggle could not last long, for some of 
 his assailants sprang over the fence, and attacked him in 
 the rear. And now Pentaur was distinctly visible against 
 a background of flaring light, for some fire-brands had 
 fallen on the dry palm-thatch of the hovel behind him, 
 and roaring flames rose up to the dark heavens. 
 
 The poet heard the threatening blaze behind him. He 
 put his left hand round the head of the trembling girl, who 
 crouched beside him, and feeling that now they both were 
 lost, but that to his latest breath he must protect the in- 
 nocence and life of this frail creature, with his right hand 
 he once more desperately swung the heavy stake. 
 
 But it was for the last time ; for two men succeeded 
 in clutching the weapon, others came to their support, 
 and wrenched it from his hand, while the mob closed upon 
 mm, furious but unarmed, and not without great fear of 
 the enormous strength of their opponent. 
 
 Uarda clung to her protector with shortened breath, and 
 trembling like a hunted antelope. Pentaur groaned when 
 he felt himself disarmed, but at that instant a youth stood 
 by his side, as if he had sprung from the earth, who put 
 into his hand the sword of the fallen soldier — who lay near 
 his feet — and who then, leaning his back against Pentaur's, 
 faced the foe on the other side. Pentaur pulled himself 
 together, sent out a battle-cry like some fighting hero who 
 is defending his last stronghold, and brandished his new 
 weapon. He stood with flaming eyes, like a lion at bay, 
 and for a moment the enemy gave way, for his young ally, 
 Rameri, had taken a hatchet, and held it up in a threaten- 
 ing manner. 
 
 * * The cowardly murderers are flinging fire-brands, *' 
 cried the prince. " Come here, girl, and I will put out 
 the pitch on your dress. " 
 
 He seized Uarda's hand, drew her to him, and hastily 
 
UARBA. 307 
 
 put out the flame, while Pentaur protected them with his 
 sword. 
 
 The prince and the poet stood thus back to back for a 
 few moments, when a stone struck Pentaur's head ; he 
 staggered, and the crowd were rushing upon him, when 
 the little fence was torn away by a determined hand, a 
 tall womanly form appeared on the scene of combat, and 
 cried to the astonished mob : 
 
 ** Have done with this ! I command you I I am Bent- 
 Anat, the daughter of Rameses." 
 
 The angry crowd gave way in sheer astonishment. 
 
 Pentaur had recovered from the stunning blow, but he 
 thought he must be under some illusion. He felt as if he 
 must throw himself on his knees before Bent-Anat, but his 
 mind had been trained under Ameni to rapid reflection ; 
 he realized, in a flash of thought, the princess' position, 
 and instead of bowing before her he exclaimed : 
 
 ''Whoever this woman may be, good folks, she is not 
 Bent-Anat the princess ; but I, though I have no white 
 robe on, am a priest of Seti, named Pentaur, and the 
 Cherheb of to-day's festival. Leave this spot, woman, I 
 command you, in right of my sacred office." 
 
 And Bent-Anat obeyed. 
 
 Pentaur was saved ; for just as the people began to re- 
 cover from their astonishment — ^just as those whom he had 
 hurt were once more inciting the mob to fight — just as a 
 boy, whose hand he had crushed, was crying out : " He is 
 not a priest, he is a swordsman. Down with the liar 1 " 
 
 A voice from the crowd exclaimed : 
 
 "Make way for my white robe, and leave the preacher 
 Pentaur alone, he is my friend. You most of you know 
 me." 
 
 "You are Nebsecht the leech, who set my broken leg," 
 cried a sailor. 
 
 " And cured my bad eye," said a weaver. 
 
 ** That tall handsome man is Pentaur, I know him well," 
 cried the girl, whose opinion had been overheard by Bent- 
 Anat. 
 
 "Preacher this, preacher that ! " shouted the boy, and 
 he would have rushed forward, but the people held him 
 back, and divided respectfully at Nebsecht's command to 
 make way for him to get at those who had been hurt. 
 
3o8 UARDA, 
 
 First he stooped over the old paraschites. 
 
 "Shame upon you ! " he exclaimed. *' You have killed 
 the old man." 
 
 "And I," said Pentaur, "have dipped my peaceful hand 
 in blood to save his innocent and suffering grandchild from 
 a like fate." 
 
 "Scorpions, vipers, venomous reptiles, scum of men ! " 
 skrieked Nebsecht, and he sprang wildly forward, seeking 
 Uarda. When he saw her sitting safe at the feet of old 
 Hekt, who had made her way into the courtyard, he drew 
 a deep breath of relief, and turned his attention to the 
 wounded. 
 
 " Did you knock down all that are lying here? " he whis- 
 pered to his friend. 
 
 Pentaur nodded assent and smiled ; but not in triumph, 
 rather in shame ; like a boy who has unintentionally 
 squeezed to death in his hand a bird he has caught. 
 
 Nebsecht looked round astonished and anxious. 
 
 " Why did you not say who you were ? " he asked. 
 
 " Because the spirit of the God Menth possessed me,'* 
 answered Pentaur. "When I saw that accursed villain 
 there with his hand in the girl's hair, I heard and saw 
 nothing, I " 
 
 "You did right,'' interrupted Nebsecht. "But where 
 will all this end ? " 
 
 At this moment a flourish of trumpets rang through the 
 little valley. The officer sent by Ameni to apprehend the 
 paraschites came up with his soldiers. 
 
 Before he entered the courtyard he ordered the crowd 
 to disperse ; the refractory were driven away by force, and 
 in a few minutes the valley was cleared of the howling and 
 shouting mob, and the burning house was surrounded by 
 soldiers. Bent-Anat, Rameri and Nefert were obliged to 
 quit their places by the fence ; Rameri, so soon as he saw 
 that Uarda was safe, had rejoined his sister. 
 
 Nefert was almost fainting with fear and excitement. 
 The two servants, who had kept near them, knit their 
 hands together, and thus carried her in advance of 
 the princess. Not one of them spoke % word, not 
 even Rameri, who could not forget Uarda, and the look 
 of gratitude she had sent after him. Once only Bent- 
 Anat said : 
 
UARDA. 309 
 
 "The hovel is Durnt down. Where will the poor souls 
 Bleep to-night ? " 
 
 When the valley was clear, the officer entered the 
 yard, and found there, besides Uarda and the witch Hekt, 
 the poet and Nebsecht, who was engaged in tending the 
 wounded. 
 
 Pentaur shortly narrated the affair to the captain, and 
 named himself to him. 
 
 The soldier offered him his hand. 
 
 *'If there were many men in Rameses* army," said 
 he, ' * who could strike such a blow as you, the war with the 
 Cheta would soon be at an end. But you have struck 
 down, not Asiatics, but citizens of Thebes, and, much as 
 I regret it, I must take you as a prisoner to Ameni." 
 
 ** You only do your duty," replied Pentaur, bowing to 
 the captain, who ordered his men to take up the body of 
 the paraschites, and to bear it to the temple of Seti. 
 
 ' ' I ought to take the girl in charge too, " he added, 
 turning to Pentaur. 
 
 *' She is ill," replied the poet. 
 
 ** And if she does not get some rest," added Nebsecht, 
 *' she will be dead. Leave her alone; she is under the 
 particular protection of the Princess Bent-Anat, who ran 
 over her not long ago." 
 
 " I will take her into my house," said Hekt, " and will 
 take care of her. Her grandmother is lying there ; she 
 was half-choked by the flames, but she will soon come to 
 herself — and I have room for both."** 
 
 **Till to-morrow," replied the surgeon. " Then I will 
 provide another shelter for her." 
 
 The old woman laughed and muttered : ** There are 
 plenty of folks to take care of her, it seems. " 
 
 The soldiers obeyed the command of their leader, took 
 up the wounded, and went away with Pentaur, and the 
 body of Pinem. 
 
 Meanwhile, Bent-Anat and her party had with much 
 difficulty reached the river bank. One of the bearers was 
 sent to find the boat which was waiting for them, and he 
 was enjoined to make haste, for already they could see the 
 approach of the procession, which escorted the god on his 
 return journey. If they could not succeed in finding their 
 
3TO UARDA, 
 
 boat without delay they must wait at least an hour, for, at 
 night, not a boat that did not belong to the train of Amon 
 — not even the barge of a noble — might venture from shore 
 till the whole procession was safe across. 
 
 They awaited the messenger's signal in the greatest 
 anxiety, for Nefert was perfectly exhausted, and Bent- 
 Anat, on whom she leaned, felt her trembling in every 
 limb. 
 
 At last the bearer gave the signal ; the swift, almost in- 
 visible bark, which was generally used for wild-fowl shoot- 
 ing, shot by. Rameri seized one end of an oar that the 
 rower held out to him, and drew the little boat up to the 
 landing-place. 
 
 The captain of the watch passed at the same moment, 
 and shouted out," This is the last boat that can put off 
 before the passage of the god 1 " 
 
 Bent-Anat descended the steps as quickly as Nefert's 
 exhausted state permitted. The landing-place was now 
 only dimly lighted by dull lanterns, though, when the god 
 embarked, it would be as light as day with cressets and 
 torches. Before she could reach the bottom step, with 
 Nefert still clinging heavily to her arms, a hard hand was 
 laid on her shoulder, and the rough voice of Paaker ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 " Stand back, you rabble I We are going first." 
 
 The captain of the watch did not stop him, for he knew 
 the chief pioneer and his overbearing ways. Paaker put 
 his finger to his lips and gave a shrill whistle that sounded 
 like a yell in the silence. 
 
 The stroke of oars responded to the call, and Paaker 
 called out to his boatmen ; 
 
 " Bring the boat up here! these people can wait I ** 
 
 The pioneer's boat was larger and better manned than 
 that of the princess. 
 
 "Jump into the boat ! " cried Rameri. 
 
 Bent-Anat went forward without speaking, for she did 
 not wish to make herself known again for the sake of the 
 people, and for Nefert's ; but Paaker put himself in her 
 way. 
 
 " Did I not tell you that you common people must wai^ 
 till we are gone. Push these people's boat out into th^ 
 stream, you men." 
 
UARDA. 311 
 
 Bent-Anat felt her blood chill, for a loud squabble at 
 once began on the landing-steps. 
 
 Rameri's voice sounded louder than all the rest ; but the 
 pioneer exclaimed : 
 
 **The low brutes dare to resist? I will teach them 
 manners ! Here, Descher, look after the women and 
 these boys ! " 
 
 At this call his great red hound barked and sprang for- 
 ward, which, as it had belonged to his father, always ac- 
 companied him when he went with his mother to visit the 
 ancestral tomb. Nefert shrieked with fright, but the dog 
 at once knew her, and crouched against her with whines 
 of recognition. 
 
 Paaker, who had gone down to his boat, turned round 
 in astonishment, and saw his dog fawning at the feet of a 
 boy whom he could not possibly recognize as Nefert ; he 
 sprang back, and cried out : 
 
 *'I will teach you, you young scoundrel, to spoil my 
 dog with spells — or poison ! " 
 
 He raised his whip, and struck it across the shoulders 
 of Nefert, who, with one scream of terror and anguish, 
 fell to the ground. 
 
 The lash of the whip only whistled close by the cheek 
 of the poor fainting woman, for Bent-Anat had seized 
 Paaker's arm with all her might. 
 
 Rage, disgust and scorn stopped her utterance ; but 
 Rameri had heard Nefert's shriek, and in two steps stood 
 by the women. 
 
 "Cowardly scoundrel 1 " he cried, and lifted the oar in 
 his hand. Paaker evaded the blow, and called to the dog 
 with a peculiar hiss : 
 
 *' Pull him down, Descher." 
 
 The hound flew at the prince; but Rameri, who, from 
 his childhood, had been his father's companion in many 
 hunts and field-sports, gave the furious brute such a 
 mighty blow on the muzzle that he rolled over with a 
 snort. 
 
 Paaker believed that he possessed in the whole world no 
 more faithful friend than this dog, his companion on all 
 his marches across desert tracts or through the enemy's 
 country, and when he saw him lie writhing on the ground 
 his rage knew no bounds, and he flew at the youngster 
 
311 UARDA. 
 
 with his whip ; but Rameri — madly excited by all the 
 events of the night, full of the warlike spirit of his fathers, 
 worked up to the highest pitch by the insults of the two 
 ladies, and seeing that he was their only protector — sud- 
 denly felt himself endowed with the strength of a man ; 
 he dealt the pioneer such a heavy blow on the left hand, 
 that he dropped his whip, and now seized the dagger in 
 his girdle with his right. 
 
 Bent-Anat threw herself between the man and the strip- 
 ling, who was hardly more than a boy, once more declared 
 her name, and this time her brother's also, and commanded 
 Paaker to make peace among the boatmen. Then she led 
 Nefert, who remained unrecognized, into the boat, entered 
 it herself with her companions, and shortly after landed at 
 the palace, while Paaker's mother, for whom he had called 
 his boat, had yet a long time to wait before it could start. 
 Setchem had seen the struggle from her litter at the top 
 of the landing steps, but without understanding its origin, 
 and without recognizing the chief actors. 
 
 The dog was dead. Paaker's hand was very painful, 
 and fresh rage was seething in his soul. 
 
 "That brood of Rameses ! " he muttered. ** Adventur- 
 ers ! They shall learn to know me. Mena and Rameses 
 are closely connected — I will sacrifice them both." 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 At last the pioneer's boat got off with his mother and 
 the body of the dog, which he intended to send to be 
 embalmed at Kynopolis,* the city in which the dog was 
 held sacred above all animals ; Paaker himself returned to 
 
 * Kynopolis, or in old Egyptian Saka, is now Samalut ; Anubis was the 
 chief divinity worshiped there. Plutarch relates a quarrel between the 
 inhabitants of this city, and the neighboring one of Oxyrynchos, where 
 the fish called Oxyrynchos was worshiped. It began because the 
 Kynopolitans eat the fish, and in revenge the Oxyrynchites caught and 
 killed dogs, and consumed them in sacrifices. Juvenal relates a similar 
 »tory of the Ombites — perhaps Koptites — and Tentyrites in the fifteenth 
 Satire. 
 
UARDA. 313 
 
 the House of Seti, where, in the night which closed the 
 feast day, there was always a grand banquet for the superior 
 priests of the Necropolis and of the temples of eastern 
 Thebes, for the representatives of other foundations, and 
 for select dignitaries of the state. 
 
 His father had never failed to attend this entertainment 
 when he was in Thebes, but he himself had to-day for the 
 first time received the much-coveted honor of an invitation, 
 which — Ameni told him when he gave it — he entirely 
 owed to the regent. 
 
 His mother had tied up his hand, which Rameri had 
 severely hurt ; it was extremely painful, but he would not 
 have missed the banquet at any cost, although he felt some 
 alarm of the solemn ceremony. His family was as old as 
 any in Egypt, his blood purer than the king's, and never- 
 theless he never felt thoroughly at home in the company 
 of superior people. He was no priest, although a scribe ; 
 he was a warrior, and yet he dic^ not rank with royal 
 heroes. 
 
 He had been brought up to a strict fulfillment of his 
 duty, and he devoted himself zealously to his calHng ; but 
 his habits of life were widely different from those of the 
 society in which he had been brought up — a society of 
 which his handsome, brave, and magnanimous father had 
 been a chief ornament. He did not cling covetously to his 
 inherited wealth, and the noble attribute of liberality was 
 not strange to him, but the coarseness of his nature 
 showed itself most when he was most lavish, for he was 
 never tired of exacting gratitude from those whom he had 
 attached to him by his gifts, and he thought he had 
 earned the right by his liberality to meet the recipient 
 with roughness or arrogance, according to his humor. 
 Thus it happened that his best actions procured him not 
 friends but enemies. 
 
 Paaker's was, in fact, an ignoble, that is to say, a selfish 
 nature ; to shorten his road he trod down flowers as readily 
 as he marched over the sand of the desert. This charac- 
 teristic marked him in all things, even in his outward de- 
 meanor ; in the sound of his voice, in his broad features, 
 in the swaggering gait of his stumpy figure. 
 
 In camp he could conduct himself as he pleased, but 
 this was not permissible in the society of his equals in 
 
314 UARDA. 
 
 rank ; for this reason, and because those faculties of quick 
 remark and repartee, which distinguished them, had been 
 denied to him, he felt uneasy and out of his element when 
 he mixed with them, and he would hardly have accepted 
 Ameni's invitation, if it had not so greatly flattered his 
 vanity. 
 
 It was already late ; but the banquet did not begin till 
 midnight, for the guests, before it began, assisted at the 
 play which was performed by lamp and torch-light on the 
 sacred lake in the south of the Necropolis, and which 
 represented the history of Isis and Osiris. 
 
 When he entered the decorated hall in which the tables 
 were prepared, he found all the guests assembled. The 
 Regent Ani was present, and sat on Ameni's right at the 
 top of the center high-table at which several places were 
 unoccupied ; for the prophets and the initiated of the tem- 
 ple of Amon had excused themselves from being present. 
 They were faithful to Rameses and his house ; their gray- 
 haired superior disapproved of Ameni's severity toward 
 the prince and princess, and they regarded the .miracle of 
 the sacred heart as a malicious trick of the chiefs of the 
 Necropolis against the great temple of the capital, for 
 which Rameses had always shown a preference. 
 
 The pioneer went up to the table where sat the general 
 of the troops that had just returned victorious from 
 Ethiopia, and several other officers of high rank. There 
 was a place vacant next to the general. Paaker fixed his 
 eyes upon this, but when he observed that the officer 
 signed the one next to him to come a little nearer, the 
 pioneer imagined that each would endeavor to avoid hav- 
 ing him for his neighbor, and with an angry glance he 
 turned his back on the table where the warrior sat. 
 
 The Mohar was not, in fact, a welcome boon-compan- 
 ion. "The wine turns sour when that churl looks at it," 
 said the general. 
 
 The eyes of all the guests turned on Paaker, who looked 
 round for a seat, and when no one beckoned him to one 
 he felt his blood begin to boil. He would have liked to 
 leave the banqueting-hall at once with a swingeing curse. 
 He had indeed turned toward the door, when the regent, 
 who had exchanged a few whispered words with Ameni, 
 called to him, requested him to take the place that had 
 
UARDA. 315 
 
 been reserved for him, and pointed to the seat by his side, 
 which had in fact been intended for the high-priest of the 
 temple of Amon. 
 
 Paaker bowed low, and took the place of honor, hardly 
 daring to look round the table, lest he should encounter 
 looks of surprise or of mockery. And yet he had pictured 
 to himself his grandfather Assa, and his father, as some- 
 where near this place of honor, which had actually often 
 enough been given up to them. And' was he not their de- 
 scendant and heir ? Was not his mother Setchem of royal 
 race ? Was not the temple of Seti more indebted to him 
 than to any one? 
 
 A servant laid a garland of flowers round his shoulders, 
 and another handed him wine and food. Then he raised 
 his eyes, and met the bright and sparkling glance of 
 Gagabu ; he looked quickly down again at the table. 
 
 Then the regent spoke to him, and turning to the other 
 guests mentioned that Paaker was on the point of start- 
 ing next day for Syria, and resuming his arduous labors 
 as Mohar. It seemed to Paaker that the regent was 
 excusing himself for having given him so high a place of 
 honor. 
 
 Presently Ani raised his wine-cup and drank to the 
 happy issue of his reconnoitering expedition, and a victori- 
 ous conclusion to every struggle in which the Mohar might 
 engage. The high-priest then pledged him, and thanked 
 him emphatically in the name of the brethren of the tem- 
 ple, for the noble tract of arable land which he had that 
 morning given them as a votive offering. A murmur of 
 approbation ran round the tables, and Paaker's timidity 
 began to diminish. 
 
 He had kept the wrappings that his mother had applied 
 round his still-aching hand. 
 
 "Are you wounded? " asked the regent. 
 
 "Nothing of importance," answered the pioneer. "I 
 was helping my mother into the boat, and it happened " 
 
 "It happened," interrupted an old school-fellow of the 
 Hollar's, who himself held a high appointment as officer 
 of the city watch of Thebes, "it happened that an oar or 
 9. stake fell on his fingers." 
 
 "Is it possible ! " cried the regent. 
 
 "And quite a youngster laid hands on him," continued 
 
3i6 UARDA. 
 
 the officer. * ' My people told me every detail. First the 
 boy killed his dog " 
 
 '^That noble Descher ? '* asked the master of the hunt, 
 in a tone of regret. *' Your father was often by my side 
 with that dog at a boar-hunt." 
 
 Paaker bowed his head ; but the officer of the watch, 
 secure in his position and dignity, and taking no notice of 
 the glow of anger which flushed Paaker s face, began 
 again : 
 
 "When the hound lay on the ground, the foolhardy 
 boy struck your dagger out of your hand." 
 
 "And did this squabble lead to any disturbance.?" 
 asked Ameni, earnestly. 
 
 "No," replied the officer. "The feast has passed off 
 to-day with unusual quiet. If the unlucky interruption to 
 the procession by that crazy paraschites had not occurred 
 we should have nothing but praise for the populace. Be- 
 sides the fighting priest, whom we have handed over to 
 you, only a few thieves have been apprehended, and they 
 belong exclusively to the caste,* so we simply took their 
 booty from them and let them go. But say, Paaker, what 
 devil of amiability took possession of you down by the 
 river, that you let the rascal escape unpunished." 
 
 "Did you do that ? " exclaimed Gagabu. "Revenge is 
 usually your " 
 
 Ameni threw so warning a glance at the old man that 
 he suddenly broke off, and then asked the pioneer : 
 
 " How did the struggle begin, and who was the fel- 
 low?" 
 
 "Some insolent people," said Paaker, "wanted to push 
 in front of the boat that was waiting for my mother, and I 
 asserted my rights. The rascal fell upon me and killed 
 my dog and — by my Osirian father ! — the crocodiles 
 
 * According to Diodorus (1. 80) there was a caste of thieves in Thebes. 
 All citizens were obliged to enter their names in a register, and state 
 where they lived, and the thieves did the same. The names were en- 
 rolled by the " chief of the thieves,' ' and all stolen goods had to be given 
 up to him. The person robbed had to give a written description of the 
 object he had lost, and a declaration as to when and where he had lost 
 it. The stolen property was thus easily recovered, and restored to the 
 owner on the payment of one-fourth of its value, which was given to the 
 thief. A similar state of things existed at Cairo within a comparatively 
 §hort time. 
 
UARDA. 317 
 
 would long since have eaten him if a woman had not 
 come between us, and made herself known to me as Bent- 
 Anat, the daughter of Rameses. It was she herself, and 
 the rascal was the young Prince Rameri, who was yester- 
 day forbidden this temple." 
 
 • ' Oho ! " cried the old master of the hunt. * ' Oho ! my 
 lord ! Is this the way to speak of the children of the 
 king.?" 
 
 Others of the company who were attached to Pharaoh's 
 family expressed their indignation ; but Ameni whispered 
 to Paaker — " Say no more ! " then he continued aloud : 
 
 "You never were careful in weighing your wordS/ my 
 friend, and now, as it seems to me, you are speaking in 
 the heat of fever. Come here, Gagabu, and examine 
 Paaker's wound, which is no disgrace to him — for it was 
 inflicted by a prince." 
 
 The old man loosened the bandage from the pioneer's 
 swollen hand. 
 
 " That was a bad blow," he exclaimed ; "three fingers 
 are broken, and — do you see ? — the emerald too in your 
 signet ring." 
 
 Paaker looked down at his aching fingers, and sighed 
 deeply, for not only the oracular ring with the name of 
 Thotmes III., but the valuable ring given to his father by 
 the reigning king, had been crushed. Only a few solitary 
 fragments of the splintered stone remained in the setting ; 
 the king's name had fallen to pieces and disappeared. 
 Paaker's bloodless lips moved silently, and an inner voice 
 cried out to him: "The gods point out the way ! The 
 name is gone, the bearer of the name must follow." 
 
 "It is a pity about the ring," said Gagabu. "And if 
 the hand must follow — fortunately it is your left hand. 
 Now, leave off drinking, let yourself be taken to Nebsecht, 
 the surgeon, and get him to set the joints neatly, and 
 bind them up." 
 
 Paaker rose and went away after Ameni had appointed 
 to meet him on the following day at the temple of Seti, 
 and the regent at the palace. 
 
 When the door had closed behind him, the treasurer of 
 the temple said : 
 
 "This has been a bad day for the Mohar, and perhaps 
 i\ will teach him that here in Thebes he cannot swagger 
 
3i8 UARDA. 
 
 as he does in the field. Another adventure occuiTed to 
 him to-day ; would you like to hear it ? " 
 
 *' Yes ; tell it 1 " cried the guests. 
 
 ** You all knew old Seni," began the treasurer. ''He 
 was a rich man, but he gave away all his goods to the 
 poor, after his seven blooming sons, one after another, 
 had died in the war, or of illness. He only kept a 
 small house with a little garden, and said that as the 
 gods had taken his children to themselves in the other 
 world he would take pity on the forlorn in this. * Feed the 
 hungry, give drink to the thirsty, clothe the naked,' says 
 the law ; and now that Seni has nothing more to give away, 
 he goes through the city, as you know, hungry and thirsty 
 himself, and scarcely clothed, and begging for his adopted 
 children, the poor. We have all given to him, for we all 
 know for whom he humbles himself, and holds out his 
 hand. To-day he went round with his little bag, and begged, 
 with his kind good eyes, for alms. Paaker has given us a 
 good piece of arable land, and thinks, perhaps with reason, 
 he has done his part. When Seni addressed him, he told 
 him to go ; but the old man did not give up asking him ; 
 he followed him persistently to the grave of his father, and 
 a great many people with him. Then the pioneer pushed 
 him angrily back, and when at last the beggar clutched his 
 garment, he raised his whip, and struck him two or three 
 times, crying out : * There — that is your portion 1 ' The 
 good old man bore it quite patiently, while he untied the 
 bag, and said with tears in his eyes : * My portion — yes — 
 but not the portion of the poor I ' 
 
 '' I was standing near, and I saw how Paaker hastily 
 withdrew into the tomb, and how his mother Setchem 
 threw her full purse to Seni. Others followed her example, 
 and the old man never had a richer harvest. The poor 
 may thank the Mohar ! A crowd of people collected 
 in front of the tomb, and he would have fared badly if 
 it had not been for the police guard who drove then? 
 away. " 
 
 During this narrative, which was heard with much 
 approval — for no one is more secure of his result than he 
 who can tell of the downfall of a man who is disliked for 
 his arrogance — the regent and the high-priest had been 
 eagerly whispering to each other. 
 
UARDA. 
 
 3^9 
 
 "There can be no doubt," said Ameni, "that Bent- 
 Anat did actually come to the festival." 
 
 "And had also dealings with the priest whom you so 
 warmly defend," whispered the other. 
 
 " Pentaur shall be questioned this very night," returned 
 the high-priest "The dishes will soon be taken away, 
 and the drinking will begin. Let us go and hear what the 
 poet says. " 
 
 " But there are now no witnesses," replied Ani. 
 
 "We do not need them," said Ameni. " He is incapable 
 of a lie." 
 
 "Let us go then," said the regent, smiling, "for I am 
 really curious about this white negro, and how he will coma 
 to terms with the truth. You have forgotten that there is 
 a woman in the case." 
 
 "That there always is ! " answered Ameni ; he called 
 Gagabu to him, gave him his seat, begged him to keep up 
 the flow of cheerful conversation, to encourage the guests 
 to drink, and to interrupt all talk of the king, the state, 
 the war. 
 
 "You know," ne concluded, " that we are not by our- 
 selves this evening. Wine has, before this, betrayed every- 
 thing ! Remember this — the mother of foresight looks 
 backward ! " 
 
 Ani clapped his hand on the old man's shoulder, 
 
 "There will be a space cleared to-night in your wine- 
 lofts. It is said of you that you cannot bear to see either 
 a full glass or an empty one ; to-night give your aversion 
 to both free play. And when you think it is the right 
 moment, give a sign to my steward, who is sitting there 
 in the corner. He has a few jars of the best liquor 
 from Byblos,* that he brought over with him, and he will 
 bring it to you. I will come in again and bid you good- 
 night." 
 
 Ameni was accustomed to leave the hall at the begin- 
 ning of the drinking. 
 
 When the door was closed behind him and his com- 
 panion, when fresh rose^garlands had been brought for 
 the necks of the company, when lotus-blossoms decorated 
 their heads, and the beakers were refilled, a choir of 
 
 * Gebal-Byblos in Phoenicia. A very famous wine was groMm therej 
 much appreciated by the Gredcs. 
 
32 o UARDA. 
 
 musicians came in, who played on harps, lutes, flutes and 
 small drums. The conductor beat the time by clapping 
 his hands, and when the music had raised the spirits of the 
 drinkers, they seconded his efforts by rhythmical clappings. 
 The jolly old Gagabu kept up his character as a stout 
 drinker, and leader of the feast. 
 
 The most priestly countenances soon beamed w.ith 
 cheerfulness, and the officers and courtiers outdid each 
 other in audacious jokes. Then the old man signed to a 
 young temple-servant, who wore a costly wreath ; he 
 came forward with a small gilt image of a mummy, carried 
 it round the circle, and cried : 
 
 ** Look at this ; be merry and drink so long as you are 
 on earth, for soon you must be like this." * 
 
 Gagabu gave another signal, and the regent's steward 
 brought in the wine from Byblos. Ani was much lauded 
 for the wonderful choiceness of the liquor. 
 
 "Such wine," exclaimed the usually grave chief of the 
 pastophori, *'is like soap."f 
 
 ''What a simile ! " cried Gagabu. ''You must explain 
 it." 
 
 " It cleanses the soul of sorrow," answered the other. 
 
 "Good, friend ! " they all exclaimed. " Now every one 
 in turn shall praise the noble juice in some worthy saying. " 
 
 "You begin — the chief prophet of the temple of Amen- 
 ophis." 
 
 "Sorrow is a poison," said the priest, "and wine is the 
 antidote. " 
 
 "Well said! — go on; it is your turn, my lord privy- 
 councillor." 
 
 "Everything has its secret spring," said the official, 
 "and wine is the secret of joy." 
 
 " Now you, my lord keeper of the seal." 
 
 " Wine seals the door on discontent, and locks the gates 
 on sorrow." 
 
 * A custom mentioned by Herodotus. Lucian saw such an image 
 brought in at a feast. The Greeks adopted the idea, but beautified it, 
 using a winged Genius of death instead of a mummy. The Romans also 
 had their "larva." 
 
 t This comparison is genuinely eastern. Kisra calls wine the " soap 
 of the throat," and the Mohammedans, to whom wine is forbidden, 
 have nevertheless sung its merits. Many passages in praise of wine 
 could be collected from Arabian and Persian poets. 
 
UARDA. 32 1 
 
 "That it does, that it certainly does ! Now the governor 
 of Hermonthis, the oldest of all the company." 
 
 ''Wine ripens especially for us old folks, and not for 
 you young people." 
 
 "That you must explain," cried a voice from the table 
 of the military officers. 
 
 "It makes young men of the old," laughed the octo- 
 genarian, "and children of the young." 
 
 " He has you there, you youngsters," cried Gagabu, 
 " What have you to say, Septah ? " 
 
 " Wine is a poison," said the morose haruspex, "for it 
 makes fools of wise men." 
 
 "Then you have little to fear from it, alas!" said 
 Gagabu, laughing. "Proceed, my lord of the chase." 
 
 "The rim of the beaker," was the answer, " is like the 
 lip of the woman you love. Touch it, and taste it, and it 
 is as good as the kiss of a bride." 
 
 "General, the turn is yours." 
 
 "I wish the Nile ran with such wine instead of with 
 water," cried the soldier, "and that I were as big as the 
 colossus of Amenophis, and that the biggest obelisk of 
 Hatasu* were my drinking vessel, and that I might drink 
 as much as I would ! But now — what have you to say of 
 this noble liquor, excellent Gagabu ? " 
 
 The second prophet raised his beaker, and gazed lovingly 
 at the golden fluid ; he tasted it slowly, and then said with 
 his eyes turned to heaven : 
 
 " I only fear that I am unworthy to thank the gods for 
 such a divine blessing." 
 
 "Well said!" exclaimed the Regent Ani, who had re- 
 entered the room unobserved. "If my wine could speak, 
 it would thank you for such a speech." 
 
 "Hail to the Regent Ani!" shouted the guests, and 
 they all rose with their cups filled with his noble present. 
 
 He pledged them, and then rose. 
 
 "Those," said he, "who have appreciated this wine, I 
 now invite to dine with me to-morrow. You will then 
 meet with it again, and if you still find it to your liking. 
 
 *This obelisk is still standing at Karnak, and is thirty-three meters 
 high. That which was taken to Paris from Luqsor, and which stands 
 on the Place de la Concorde, is eleven meters less. 
 21 
 
322 UARDA. 
 
 you will be heartily welcome any evening. Now, good- 
 night, friends." 
 
 A thunder of applause followed him as he quitted the 
 room. 
 
 The morning was already gray when the carousing 
 party broke up ; few of the guests could find their way un- 
 assisted through the courtyard ; most of them had already 
 been carried away by the slaves who had waited for them 
 — and who took them on their heads like bales of goods — 
 and had been borne home in their litters ; but for those 
 who remained to the end, couches were prepared in the 
 House of Seti, for a terrific storm was now raging. 
 
 While the company were filling and refilling the beakers, 
 which raised their spirits to so wild a pitch, the prisoner 
 Pentaur had been examined in the presence of the regent. 
 Ameni's messenger had found the poet on his knees, so 
 absorbed in meditation that he did not perceive his ap- 
 proach. All his peace of mind had deserted him, his soul 
 was in a tumult, and he could not succeed in obtaining 
 any calm and clear control over the new life-pulses which 
 were throbbing in his heart. 
 
 He had hitherto never gone to rest at night without re- 
 quiring of himself an account of the past day, and he had 
 always been able to detect the most subtle line that divided 
 right from wrong in his actions. But to-night he looked 
 back on a perplexing confusion of ideas and events, and 
 when he endeavored to sort them and arrange them, he 
 could see nothing clearly but the image of Bent-Anat, 
 which enthralled his heart and intellect. 
 
 He had raised his hand against his fellow-men, and 
 dipped it in blood ; he desired to convince himself of his 
 sin, and to repent — but he could not ; for each time he re- 
 called it, to blame and condemn himself, he saw the 
 soldier s hand twisted in Uarda's hair, and the princess' eyes 
 beaming with approbation, nay with admiration, and he 
 said to himself that he had acted rightly, and in the same 
 position would do the same again to-morrow. Still he felt 
 that he had broken through all the conditions with which 
 fate had surrounded his existence, and it seemed to him 
 that he could never succeed in recovering the still, narrow, 
 but peaceful life of the past. 
 
UARDA. 323 
 
 His soul went up in prayer to the Almighty One, and to 
 the spirit of the sweet humble woman whom he had called 
 his mother, imploring for peace of mind and modest con- 
 tent ; but in vain — for the longer he remained prostrate, 
 flinging up his arms in passionate entreaty, the keener 
 grew his longings, the less he felt able to repent or to rec- 
 ognize his guilt. Ameni's order to appear before him 
 ( ame almost as a deliverance, and he followed the messen- 
 ger prepared for a severe struggle ; but not afraid — almost 
 joyful. 
 
 In obedience to the command of the grave high-priest, 
 Pentaur related the whole occurrence — how, as there was 
 no leech in the house, he had gone with the old wife of 
 the paraschites to visit her possessed husband ; how, to 
 save the unhappy girl from ill-usage by the mob, he had 
 raised his hand in fight, and dealt indeed some heavy 
 blows. 
 
 * ' You have killed four men, " said Ameni, * ' and severely 
 wounded twice as many. Why did you not reveal 
 yourself as a priest, as the speaker of the morning's 
 discourse? Why did you not endeavor to persuade, the 
 people with words of warning, rather than with brute 
 force ? " 
 
 "I had no priest's garment," replied Pentaur. 
 
 ** There again you did wrong," said Ameni, " for you 
 know that the law requires of each of us never to leave 
 this house without our white robes. But you cannot 
 pretend not to know your own powers of speech, nor to 
 contradict me when I assert that, even in the plainest 
 working-dress you were perfectly able to produce as much 
 effect with words as by deadly blows .' " 
 
 ''I might very likely have succeeded," answered Pen- 
 taur, "but the most savage temper ruled the crowd; 
 there was no time for reflection, and when I struck down 
 the villain, like some reptile, who had seized the innocent 
 girl, the lust of fighting took possession of me. I cared 
 no more for my own life, and to save the child I would 
 have slain thousands." 
 
 *' Your eyes sparkle," said Ameni, "as if you had per- 
 formed some heroic feat ; and yet the men you killed 
 were only unarmed and pious citizens, who were roused 
 to indignation by a gross and shameless outrage. I can- 
 
324 
 
 UARDA. 
 
 not conceive whence the warrior-spirit should have fallen 
 on a gardener's son — and a minister of the gods." 
 
 "It is true," answered Pentaur, ''when the crowd 
 rushed upon me, and I drove them back, putting out all 
 my strength, I felt something of the warlike rage of the 
 soldier, who repulses the pressing foe from the standard 
 committed to his charge. It was sinful in a priest, no 
 doubt, and I will repent of it — but I felt it. " 
 
 "You felt it — and you will repent of it, well and good," 
 replied Ameni. "But you have not given a true account 
 of all that happened. Why have you concealed that Bent- 
 Anat — Rameses' daughter — was mixed up in the fray, and 
 that she saved you by announcing her name to the people, 
 and commanding them to leave you alone ? When you 
 gave her the lie before all the people, was it because you 
 did not believe that it was Bent-Anat ? Now, you who 
 stand so firmly on so high a platform — now you standard- 
 bearer of the truth — answer me." 
 
 Pentaur had turned pale at his master's words, and said, 
 as he looked at the regent : 
 
 " We are not alone." 
 
 "Truth is one ! " said Ameni, coolly. " What you can 
 reveal to me, can also be heard by this noble lord, the 
 regent of the king himself. Did you recognize Bent-Anat, 
 or not ? " 
 
 "The lady who rescued me was like her, and yet un- 
 like," answered the poet, whose blood was roused by the 
 subtle irony of his superior's words. "And if I had been 
 as sure that she was the princess, as I am that you are 
 the man who once held me in honor, and who are now 
 trying to humiliate me, I would all the more have acted 
 as I did to spare a lady who is more like a goddess than a 
 woman, and who, to save an unworthy wretch like me, 
 stooped from a throne to the dust." 
 
 "Still the poet — the preacher ! " said Ameni. Then he 
 added severely, "I beg for a short and clear answer. We 
 know for certain that the princess took part in the festival 
 in the disguise of a woman of low rank, for she again 
 declared herself to Paaker ; and we know that it was she 
 who saved you. But did you know that she meant io 
 come across the Nile ? " 
 
 * ' How should I ? " asked Pentaur. 
 
UARDA. 
 
 325 
 
 " Well, did you believe that it was Bent-Anat whom you 
 saw before you when she ventured on to the scene of 
 conflict ? " 
 
 ''I did believe it/' replied Pentaur; he shuddered and 
 cast down his eyes. 
 
 **Then it was most audacious to drive away the king's 
 daughter as an impostor." 
 
 **It was," said Pentaur. "But for my sake she had 
 risked the honor of her name, and that of her royal father, 
 and I — I should not have risked my life and freedom 
 for " 
 
 *'We have heard enough," interrupted Ameni. 
 
 ** Not so," the regent interposed. "What became of 
 the girl you had saved ? " 
 
 "An old witch, Hekt by name, a neighbor of Pinem's, 
 took her and her grandmother into her cave," answered 
 the poet ; who was then, by the high-priest's order, taken 
 back to the temple-prison. 
 
 Scarcely had he disappeared when the regent exclaimed : 
 
 "A dangerous man ! an enthusiast 1 an ardent wor- 
 shiper of Rameses I " 
 
 * ' And of his daughter, " laughed Ameni, " but only a wor- 
 shiper. Thou hast nothing to fear from him — I will an- 
 swer for the purity of his motives. " 
 
 "But he is handsome and of powerful speech," replied 
 Ani. "I claim him as my prisoner, for he has killed one 
 of my soldiers." 
 
 Ameni's countenance darkened, and he answered very 
 sternly ; 
 
 " It is the exclusive right of our conclave, as established 
 by our charter, to judge any member of this fraternity. 
 You, the future king, have freely promised to secure our 
 privileges to us, the champions of your own ancient and 
 sacred rights. " 
 
 "And you shall have them," answered the regent, with 
 a persuasive smile. " But this man is dangerous, and you 
 would not have him go unpunished ? " 
 
 " He shall be severely judged,'* said Ameni, "but by us 
 and in this house." 
 
 " He has committed murder ! " cried Ani. " More than 
 one murder. He is worthy of death." 
 
 "He acted under pressure of necessity," replied Ameni. 
 
326 UARDA. 
 
 '* And a man so favored by the gods as he !s not to be 
 lightly given up because an untimely impulse of gener- 
 osity prompted him to rash conduct. I know — I can see 
 that you wish him ill. Promise me, as you value me as an 
 ally, that you will not attempt his life." 
 
 **0h, willingly! " smiled the regent, giving the high- 
 priest his hand. 
 
 ''Accept my sincere thanks," said Ameni. '*Pentaur 
 was the most promising of my disciples, and in spite of 
 many aberrations I still esteem him highly. When he was 
 telling us of what had occurred to-day, did he not remind 
 you of the great Assa, or of his gallant son, the Osirian 
 father of the pioneer Paaker ? " 
 
 *'The likeness is extraordinary," answered Ani, *'and 
 yet he is of quite humble birth. Who was his mother ? " 
 
 ''Our gate-keeper's daughter, a plain, pious, simple 
 creature." 
 
 " Now I will return to the banqueting-hall," said Ani, 
 after a few moments of reflection. " But I must ask you 
 one thing more. I spoke to you of a secret that will put 
 Paaker into our power. The old sorceress Hekt, who has 
 taken charge of the paraschites* wife and grandchild, 
 knows all about it. Send some police-guard over there, 
 and let her be brought over here as a prisoner ; I will 
 examine her myself, and so can question her without 
 exciting observation." 
 
 Ameni at once sent off a party of soldiers, and then 
 quietly ordered a faithful attendant to light up the so- 
 called audience-chamber, and to put a seat for him in 
 an adjoining room. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 While the banquet was going forward at the temple, 
 and Ameni's messengers were on their way to the valley 
 of the kings' tombs, to waken up old Hekt, a furious 
 storm of hot wind came up from the south-west, sweeping 
 black clouds across the sky, and brown clouds of dus 
 across the earth. It bowed the slender palm-trees as an 
 
UARDA. 327 
 
 archer bends his bow, tore the tent pegs up on the scene 
 of the festival, whirled the light tent-cloths up in the air, 
 drove them like white witches through the dark night, and 
 thrashed the still surface of the Nile till its yellow waters 
 swirled and tossed in waves like a restless sea. 
 
 Paaker had compelled his trembling slaves to row him 
 across the stream ; several times the boat was near being 
 swamped, but he had seized the helm himself with his un- 
 injured hand, and guided it firmly and surely, though the 
 rocking of the boat kept his broken hand in great and con- 
 stant pain. After a few ineffectual attenapts he succeeded 
 in landing. The storm had blown out the lanterns at the 
 masts — the signal lights for which his people looked — and 
 he found neither servants nor torch-bearers on the bank, 
 so he struggled through the scorching wind as far as the 
 gate of his house. His big dog had always been wont to 
 announce his return home to the door-keeper with joyful 
 barking ; but to-night the boatman long knocked in vain 
 at the heavy door. When at last he entered the court- 
 yard, he found all dark, for the wind had extinguished 
 the lanterns and torches, and there were no lights but in 
 the windows of his mother's rooms. 
 
 The dogs in their open kennels now began to make 
 themselves heard, but their tones were plaintive and whin- 
 ing, for the storm had frightened the beasts ; their howling 
 cut the pioneer to the heart, for it reminded him of the 
 poor slain Descher, whose deep voice he sadly missed ; 
 and when he went into his own room he was met by a 
 wild cry of lamentation from the Ethiopian slave, for the 
 dog which he had trained for Paaker's father, and which 
 he had loved. 
 
 The pioneer threw himself on a seat, and ordered some 
 water to be brought, that he might cool his aching hand 
 in it, according to the prescription of Nebsecht. 
 
 As soon as the old man saw the broken fingers, he gave 
 another yell of woe, and when Paaker ordered him to 
 cease, he asked : 
 
 ** And is the man still alive who did that, and who killed 
 Descher ? " 
 
 Paaker nodded, and while he held his hand in the cool- 
 ing water he looked sullenly at the ground. He felt mis- 
 erable, and he asked himself why the storm had not 
 
328 UARDA. 
 
 swamped the boat, and the Nile had not swallowed him. 
 Bitterness and rage filled his breast, and he wished he 
 were a child, and might cry. But his mood soon changed, 
 his breath came quickly, his breast heaved, and an ominous 
 light glowed in his eyes. He was not thinking of his love, 
 but of the revenge which was even dearer to him. 
 
 ''That brood of Rameses ! " he muttered. "I will 
 sweep them all away together — the king, and Mena, and 
 those haughty princes, and many more — I know how. 
 Only wait, only wait ! " and he flung up his right fist with 
 a threatening gesture. 
 
 The door opened at this instant, and his mother entered 
 the room ; the raging of the storm had drowned the sound 
 of her steps, and as she approached her revengeful son, 
 she called his name in horror at the mad wrath which was 
 depicted in his countenance. Paaker started, and then 
 said, with apparent composure : 
 
 "Is it you, mother? It is near morning, and it is better 
 to be asleep than awake in such an hour." 
 
 "I could not rest in my rooms," answered Setchem. 
 *' The storm howled so wildly, and I am so anxious, so 
 frightfully unhappy — as I was before your father died. " 
 
 "Then stay with me," said Paaker, affectionately, " and 
 lie down on my couch." 
 
 "I did not come here to sleep," replied Setchem. *'I 
 am too unhappy at all that happened to you on the land- 
 ing steps, it is frightful ! No, no, my son, it is not about 
 your smashed hand, though it grieves me to see you in 
 pain ; it is about the king, and his anger when he hears of 
 the quarrel. He favors you less than he did your lost 
 father, I know it well. But how wildly you smile, how 
 wild you looked when I came in ! It went through my 
 bones and marrow." 
 
 Both were silent for a time, and listened to the furious 
 raging of the storm. At last Setchem spoke. 
 
 "There is something else," she said, "which disturbs 
 my mind. I know the poet who spoke at the festival to- 
 day, young Pentaur. His figure, his face, his movements, 
 nay his very voice, are exactly like those of your father at 
 the time when he was young, and courted me. It is as if 
 the gods were fain to see the best man that they ever took 
 to themselves walk before them a second time upon earth. " 
 
UARDA. 329 
 
 *' Yes, my lady," said the black slave ; ''no mortal eye 
 ever saw such a likeness. I saw him fighting in front of 
 the paraschites' cottage, and he was more like my dead 
 master than ever. He swung the tent-post over his head, 
 as my lord used to swing his battle-ax." 
 
 "Be silent," cried Paaker, "and get out — idiot! The 
 priest is like my father ; I grant it, mother ; but he is an 
 insolent fellow, who offended me grossly, and with whom 
 I have to reckon — as with many others." 
 
 " How violent you are ! " interrupted his mother, "and 
 how full of bitterness and hatred. Your father was so 
 sweet-tempered, and kind to everybody." 
 
 "Perhaps they are kind to me?" retorted Paaker, with 
 a short laugh. "Even the Immortals spite me, and throw 
 thorns in my path. But I will push them aside with my 
 own hand, and will attain what I desire without the help 
 of the gods, and overthrow all that oppose me." 
 
 "We cannot blow away a feather without the help of 
 the Immortals, " answered Setchem. ' * So your father used 
 to say, who was a very different man both in body and 
 mind from you. I tremble before you this evening, and 
 at the curses you have uttered against the children of your 
 lord and sovereign, your father's best friend. " 
 
 "But my enemy," shouted Paaker. "You will get 
 nothing from me but curses. And the brood of Rameses 
 shall learn whether your husband's son will let himself be 
 ill used and scorned without " revenging himself. I will 
 fling them into an abyss, and I will laugh when I see them 
 writhing in the sand at my feet ! " 
 
 " Fool !" cried Setchem, beside herself. "I am but a 
 woman, and have often blamed myself for being soft and 
 weak ; but as sure as I am faithful to your dead father — 
 whom you are no more like than a bramble is like a palm- 
 tree — so surely will I tear my love for you out of my heart 
 if you — if you — Now I see ! now I know ! Answer me 
 — murderer ! Where are the seven arrows with the 
 wicked words which used to hang here ? Where are the 
 arrows on which you had scrawled ' Death to Mena ? ' " 
 
 With these words Setchem breathlessly started forward, 
 but the pioneer drew back as she confronted him, as in his 
 youthful days when she threatened to punish him for some 
 HiisdeiTi^apoT. She followed him up, caught him by the 
 
330 UARDA. 
 
 girdle, and in a hoarse voice repeated her question. He 
 stood still, snatched her hand angrily from his belt, and 
 said defiantly : 
 
 "I have put them in my quiver — and not for mere play. 
 Now you know." 
 
 Incapable of words, the maddened woman once more 
 raised her hand against her degenerate son, but he put 
 back her arm. 
 
 ** I am no longer a child," he said, ''and I am master 
 of this house. I will do what I will, if a hundred women 
 hindered me ! " and with these words he pointed to the 
 door. Setchem broke into loud sobs, and turned her back 
 upon him ; but at the door once more she turned to look 
 at him. He had seated himself, and was resting his fore- 
 head on the table on which the bowl of cold water stood. 
 
 Setchem fought a hard battle. At last once more 
 through her choking tears she called his name, opened 
 her arms wide and exclaimed : 
 
 " Here I am — here I am ! Come to my heart, only give 
 up those hideous thoughts of revenge. " 
 
 But Paaker did not move, he did not look up at her, he 
 did not speak ; he only shook his head in negation. 
 Setchem's hands fell and she said, softly : 
 
 * ' What did your father teach you out of the scriptures ? 
 'Your highest praise consists in this, to reward your 
 mother for what she has done for you, in bringing you up, 
 so that she may not raise her hands to God, nor He hear 
 her lamentation.' " 
 
 At these words Paaker sobbed aloud, but he did not 
 look at his mother. She called him tenderly by his name ; 
 then her eyes fell on his quiver, which lay on a bench 
 with other arms. Her heart shrunk within her, and with 
 a trembling voice she exclaimed : 
 
 ' ' I forbid this mad vengeance — do you hear ? Will 
 you give it up ? You do not move ? No ! you will not ' 
 Ye gods, what can I do ? " 
 
 She wrung her hands in despair ; then she hastily 
 crossed the room, snatched out one of the arrows, and 
 strove to break it. Paaker sprang from his seat and 
 wrenched the weapon from her hand ; the sharp point 
 slightly scratched the skin, and dark drops of blood flowed 
 from it and dropped upon the floor. 
 
UARDA. 331 
 
 The Mohar would have taken the wounded hand, for 
 Setchem, who had the weakness of never bemg able to 
 see blood flow — neither her own nor anybody's else — had 
 turned as pale as death ; but she pushed him from her, 
 and as she spoke her gentle voice had a dull estranged 
 tone. 
 
 *' This hand," she said — "a mother's hand wounded by 
 her son — shall never again grasp yours till you have 
 sworn a solemn oath to put away from you all thoughts 
 of revenge and murder, and not to disgrace your father's 
 name. I have said it, and may his glorified spirit be my 
 witness and give me strength to keep my word ! " 
 
 Paaker had fallen on his knees, and was engaged in a 
 terrible mental struggle, while his mother slowly went to- 
 ward the door. There again she stood still for a moment ; 
 she did not speak, but her eyes appealed to him once 
 more. 
 
 In vain. At last she left the room, and the wind 
 slammed the door violently behind her. Paaker groaned, 
 and pressed his hand over his eyes. 
 
 *' Mother, mother] "he cried. **I cannot go back — I 
 cannot." 
 
 A fearful gust of wind howled round the house and 
 drowned his voice, and then he heard two tremendous 
 claps, as if rocks had been hurled from heaven. He 
 started up and went to the window, where the melancholy 
 gray dawn was showing, in order to call the slaves. Soon 
 they came trooping out, and the steward called out as 
 soon as he saw him : 
 
 **The storm has blown down the masts at the great 
 gate i " ^ 
 
 *' Impossible ! " cried Paaker. 
 
 *'Yes, indeed !" answered the servant. *'They have 
 been sawn through close to the ground. The mat-maker 
 no doubt did it, whose collar-bone was broken. He has 
 escaped in this fearful night. " 
 
 ** Let out the dogs," cried the Mohar. "All who have 
 legs run after the blackguard ! Freedom and five hand- 
 fuls of gold for the man who brings him back. " 
 
 The guests at the House of Seti had already gone to 
 rest, wher \.meni was informed of the arrival of the sor* 
 
332 UARDA. 
 
 ceress, and he at once went into the hall, where Ani was 
 waiting to see her ; the regent roused himself from a deep 
 reverie when he heard the high-priest's steps. 
 
 "Is she come? "he asked hastily; when Ameni an- 
 swered in the affirmative Ani went on — meanwhile care- 
 fully disentangling the disordered curls of his wig, and 
 arranging his broad, collar-shaped necklace. 
 
 '*The witch may exercise some influence over me; 
 will you not give me your blessing to preserve me from 
 her spells ? It is true, I have on me this Horus-eye, and 
 this Isis-charm, but one never knows " 
 
 "My presence will be your safeguard," said Ameni. 
 "But — no, of course you wish to speak with her alone. 
 You shall be conducted to a room, which is protected 
 against all witchcraft by sacred texts. My brother," he 
 continued to one of the serving priests, "let the witch be 
 taken into one of the consecrated rooms, and then, when 
 you have sprinkled the threshold, lead my lord Ani 
 thither. "^ 
 
 The high-priest went away, and into a small room which 
 adjoined the hall where the interview between the regent 
 and the old woman was about to take place, and where 
 the softest whisper spoken in the larger room could be 
 heard by means of an ingeniously contrived and invisible 
 tube. 
 
 When Ani saw the old woman, he started back in hor- 
 ror ; her appearance at this moment was, in fact, fright- 
 ful. The storm had tossed and torn her garments and 
 tumbled all her thick, white hair so that locks of it fell 
 over her face. She leaned on a staff, and bending far for- 
 ward looked steadily at the regent ; and her eyes, red and 
 smarting from the sand which the wind had flung in her 
 face, seemed to glow as she fixed them on his. She 
 looked as a hyena might when creeping to seize its prey, 
 and Ani felt a cold shiver as he heard her hoarse voice 
 addressing him to greet him, and to represent that he had 
 chosen " range hour for requiring her to speak with him. 
 
 When sn J had thanked nim for his promise of renewing 
 her letter of freedom, and had confirmed the statement 
 that Paaker had had a love-philter from her, she parted 
 her hair from off her fap^ — it oc^mred to her that sh^ wa3 
 1^ woman. 
 
UARDA. 333 
 
 The regent sat in an arm-chair, she stood before him ; 
 but the struggle with the storm had tired her old limbs, 
 and she begged Ani to permit her to be seated, as she had 
 a long story to tell, which would put Paaker into his 
 power, so that he would find him as yielding as wax. 
 The regent signed her to a corner of the room, and she 
 squatted down on the pavement. 
 
 When he desired her to proceed with her story, she 
 looked at the floor for some time in silence, and then be- 
 gan, as if half to herself : 
 
 " I will tell thee, that I may find peace — 1 do not want, 
 when I die, to be buried unembalmed. Who knows but 
 perhaps strange things may happen in the other world, 
 and I would not wish to miss them. I want to see him 
 again down there, even if it were in the seventh limbo of 
 the damned. Listen to me 1 But, before I speak, promise 
 me that whatever I tell thee, thou wilt leave in peace, and 
 wilt see that I am embalmed when I am dead. Else I 
 will not speak. " 
 
 Ani bowed consent. 
 
 *'No — no," she said. ** I will tell thee what to swear : 
 * If I do not keep my word to Hekt — who gives the Mohar 
 into my power — may the spirits, whom she rules, annihi- 
 late me before I mount the throne.* Do not be vexed, 
 my lord — and say only *Yes.' What I can tell is worth 
 more than a mere word." 
 
 "Well then — yes!" cried the regent, eager for the 
 mighty revelation. 
 
 The old woman muttered a few unintelligible words ; 
 then she collected herself, stretched out her lean neck, 
 and asked, as she fixed her sparkling eyes on the man 
 before her : 
 
 ** Didst thou ever, when thou wert young, hear of the 
 singer Beki ? Well, look at me — I am she." 
 
 She laughed loud and hoarsely, and drew her tattered 
 robe across her bosom, as if half ashamed of her unpleas- 
 ing person. 
 
 '* Ay ! " she continued. " Men find pleasure in grapes 
 by treading them down, and when the must is drunk the 
 skins are thrown on the dung-hill. Grape-skins, that is 
 what I am — but you need not look at me so pitifully ; I 
 was grapes once, and poor and despised as I am now, no 
 
334 UARDA. 
 
 one can take from me what I have had and have been. 
 Mine has been a life out of a thousand, a complete life, 
 full to overflowing of joy and suffering, of love and hate, 
 of delight, despair and revenge. Only to talk of it raises 
 me to a seat by thy throne there. No, let me be, I am used 
 now to squatting on the ground ; but I knew thou wouldst 
 hear me to the end, for once I too was one of you. Ex- 
 tremes meet in all things — I know it by experience. The 
 greatest men will hold out a hand to a beautiful woman, and 
 time was when I could lead you all as with a rope. Shall 
 I begin at the beginning ? Well — I seldom am in the mood 
 for it nowadays. Fifty years ago I sang a song with this 
 voice of mine ; an old crow like me sing ? But so it was. 
 My father was a man of rank, the governor of Abydos ; 
 when the first Rameses took possession of the throne my 
 father was faithful to the house of thy fathers, so the new 
 king sent us all to the gold mines, and there they all died 
 — my parents, brothers, and sisters. I only survived by 
 some miracle. As I was handsome and sang well, a music 
 master took me into his band, brought me to Thebes, and 
 wherever there was a feast given in any great house, 
 Beki was in request. Of flowers and money and tender 
 looks I had a plentiful harvest ; but I was proud and 
 cold, and the misery of my people had made me bitter 
 at an age when usually even bad liquor tastes of 
 honey. Not one of all the gay young fellows, princes' 
 sons and nobles, dared to touch my hand. But my hour 
 was to come ; the handsomest and noblest man of them 
 all, and grave and dignified too, was Assa, the old Mohar's 
 father, and grandfather of Pentaur — no, I should say of 
 Paaker the pioneer ; thou hast known him. Well, wherever 
 I sang, he sat opposite me, and gazed at me, and I 
 could not take my eyes off him, and — thou canst tell 
 the rest ! — no ! Well, no woman before or after me can 
 ever love a man as I loved Assa. Why — dost thou not 
 laugh ? It must seem odd, too, to hear such a thing from 
 the toothless mouth of an old witch. He is dead, long 
 since dead. I hate him ! and yet — wild as it sounds— I 
 believe I love him yet. And he loved me — for two years ; 
 then he went to the war with Seti, and remained a long 
 time away, and when I saw him again he had courted the 
 daughter of some rich and noble house. I was handsome 
 
UARDA. 535 
 
 enough still, but he never looked at me at the banquets. 
 I came across him at least twenty times, but he avoided 
 me as if I were tainted with leprosy, and I began to fret, 
 and fell ill of a fever. The doctors said it was all over 
 with me, so I sent him a letter in which there was nothing 
 but these words : ' Beki is dying, and would like to see Assa 
 once more,* and in the papyrus I put his first present — a 
 plain ring. And what was the answer? a handful of 
 gold ! Gold — gold ! Thou may'st believe me, when I say 
 that the sight of it was more torturing to my eyes than the 
 iron with which they put out the eyes of criminals. Even 
 
 now, when I think of it But what do you men, you 
 
 lords of rank and wealth, know of a breaking heart ? When 
 two or three of you happen to meet, and if thou shouldst 
 tell the story, the most respectable will say in a pompous 
 voice : * The man acted nobly indeed ; he was married, and 
 his wife would have complained with justice if he had 
 gone to see the singer.' Am I right or wrong? I know ; 
 not one will remember that the other was a woman, a feel- 
 ing human being ; it will occur to no one that his deed on 
 the one hand saved an hour of discomfort, and on the other 
 wrought half a century of despair. Assa escaped his wife's 
 scolding, but a thousand curses have fallen on him and on 
 his house. How virtuous he felt himself when he had 
 crushed and poisoned a passionate heart that had never 
 ceased to love him ! Ay, and he would have come if he 
 had not still felt some love for me, if he had not mis- 
 doubted himself, and feared that the dying woman might 
 once more light up the fire he had so carefully smothered 
 and crushed out. I would have grieved for him — but that 
 he should send me money, money ! — that I have never for- 
 given ; that he shall atone for in his grandchild." The old 
 woman spoke the last words as if in a dream, and without 
 seeming to remember her hearer. Ani shuddered, as if he 
 were in the presence of a madwoman, and he involunta- 
 rily drew his chair back a little way. 
 
 The witch observed this : she took breath and went on : 
 "You lords, who walk in high places, do not know how 
 things go on in the depths beneath you — you do not choose 
 to know. 
 
 ** But I will shorten mv story. I got well, but I got out 
 of my bed thin and voiceless, I had plenty of money, 
 
336 UARDA. 
 
 and I spent it in buying of every one who professed magic 
 in Thebes, potions to recover Assa's love for me, or ir\ 
 paying for spells to be cast on him, or for magic drinks to 
 destroy him. I tried too to recover my voice, but the 
 medicines I took for it made it rougher, not sweeter. Then 
 an excommunicated priest, who was famous among the 
 magicians, took me into his house, and there I learned 
 many things ; his old companions afterward turned upon 
 him, he came over here into the Necropolis, and I came 
 with him. When at last he was taken and hanged, I re- 
 mained in his cave, and myself took to witchcraft. Chil- 
 dren point their fingers at me, honest men and women 
 avoid me, I am an abomination to all men, nay to myself. 
 And one only is guilty of all this ruin — the noblest gentle- 
 man in Thebes — the pious Assa. 
 
 ** I had practiced magic for several years, and had be- 
 come learned in many arts, when one day the gardener 
 Sent, from whom I was accustomed to buy plants for my 
 mixtures — he rents a plot of ground from the temple of 
 Seti — Sent brought me a new-born child that had been 
 born with six toes ; I was to remove the supernumerary 
 toe by my art. The pious mother of the child was lying 
 ill of fever, or she never would have allowed it ; I took the 
 screaming little wretch — for such things are sometimes 
 curable. The next morning, a few hours after sunrise, 
 there was a bustle in front of my cave ; a maid, evidently 
 belonging to a noble house, was calling me. Her mistress, 
 she said, had come with her to visit the tomb of her 
 fathers, and there had been taken ill, and had given birth 
 to a child. Her mistress was lying senseless — I must go 
 at once and help her. I took the little six-toed brat in my 
 cloak, told my slave-girl to follow me with water, and soon 
 found myself — as thou canst guess — at the tomb of Assa. 
 The poor woman, who lay there in convulsions, was his 
 daughter-in-law Setchem. The baby, a boy, was as sound 
 as a nut, but she was evidently in great danger. I sent 
 the maid with the litter, which was waiting outside, to the 
 temple here for help ; the girl said that her master, the 
 father of the child, was at the war, but that the grandfather, 
 the noble Assa, had promised to meet the lady Setchem at 
 the tomb, and would shortly be coming ; then she disap- 
 peared with the litter. I washed the child, and kissed i^ 
 
UARDA. 337 
 
 as if it were my own. Then I heard distant steps in the 
 valley, and the recollection of the moment when I, lying 
 at the point of death, had received that gift of money 
 from Assa came over me, and then — I do not know myself 
 how it happened — I gave the new-born grandchild of Assa 
 to my slave-girl and told her to carry it quickly to the 
 cave, and I wrapped the little six-toed baby in my rags 
 and held it in my lap. There I sat — and the minutes 
 seemed hours till Assa came up ; and when he stood before 
 me, grown gray, it is true, but still handsome and upright 
 — I put the gardener's boy, the six-toed brat, into his very 
 arms, and a thousand demons seemed to laugh hoarsely 
 within me. He thanked me, he did not know me, and 
 once more he offered me a handful of gold. I took it, and 
 I listened as the priest, who had come from the temple, 
 prophesied all sorts of fine things for the little one. who 
 was born in so fortunate an hour ; and then I went back 
 into my cave, and there I laughed till I cried, though I do 
 not know that the tears sprang from the laughter. 
 
 *' A few days after I gave Assa's grandchild to the gar- 
 dener, and told him the sixth toe had come off; I had 
 made a little wound on his foot to take in the bumpkin. 
 So Assa's grandchild, the son of the Mohar, grew up as the 
 gardener's child, and received the name of Pentaur, and 
 he was brought up in the temple here, and is wonderfully 
 like Assa ; but the gardener's monstrous brat is the pioneer 
 Paaker. That is the whole secret. " 
 
 Ani had listened in silence to the terrible old woman. 
 
 We are involuntarily committed to any one who can in- 
 form us of some absorbing fact, and who knows how to 
 make the information valuable. It did not occur to the 
 regent to punish the witch for her crimes ; he thought 
 rather of the old delights when she had spoken of the 
 songs and the beauty of the singer Beki. He looked 
 at the woman, and a cold shiver ran through all his 
 limbs. 
 
 *' You may live in peace," he said at last ; ** and when 
 you die I will see to your being embalmed ; but give up 
 your black arts. You must be rich, and, if you are not, 
 say what you need. Indeed, I scarcely dare offer you 
 gold — it excites your hatred, as I understand." 
 
 ** I could take thine — but now let me go ! " 
 as 
 
338 UARDA. 
 
 She got up, and went toward the door, but the regent 
 called to her to stop, and asked : 
 
 "Is Assa the father of your son the little Nemu, the 
 dwarf of the lady Katuti ? " 
 
 The witch laughed loudly. "Is the little wretch like 
 Assa or like Beki? I picked him up like many other 
 children. " 
 
 ** But he is clever ! " said Ani. 
 
 "Ay — that he is. He has planned many a shrewd 
 stroke, and is devoted to his mistress. He will help thee 
 to thy purpose, for he himself has one too. " 
 
 "And that is " 
 
 "Katuti will rise to greatness with thee, and to riches 
 through Paaker, who sets out to-morrow to make the 
 woman he loves a widow." 
 
 "You know a great deal," said Ani, meditatively, "and 
 I would ask you one thing more ; though indeed your 
 story has supplied the answer — but perhaps you know 
 more now than you did in your youth. Is there in truth 
 any effectual love-philter?" 
 
 " I will not deceive thee, for I desire that thou shouldst 
 keep thy word to me," replied Hekt. " A love potion 
 rarely has any effect, and never but on women who have 
 never before loved. If it is given to a woman whose 
 heart is filled with the image of another man, her passion 
 for him only will grow the stronger. " 
 
 ''Yet another," said Ani. "Is there any way of 
 destroying an enemy at a distance?" 
 
 "Certainly," said the witch. "Little people may do 
 mean things, and great people can let others do things 
 that they cannot do themselves. My story has stirred thy 
 gall, and it seems to me that thou dost not love the poet 
 Pentaur. A smile ! Well then — I have not lost sight of 
 him, and I know he is grown up as proud and as hand- 
 some as Assa. He is wonderfully like him, and I could 
 have loved him — have loved as this foolish heart had bet- 
 ter never have loved. It is strange ! In many women, 
 who come to me, I see how their hearts cling to the children 
 of men who have abandoned them, and we women are all 
 alike in most things. But I will not let myself love Assa's 
 grandchild — I must not. I will injure him, and help 
 every one that persecutes him ; for though Assa is dead, 
 
UARDA. 339 
 
 the wrongs he did me live in me so long as I live myself. 
 Pentaur's destiny must go on its course. If thou wilt 
 have his life, consult with Nemu, for he hates him too, 
 and he will serve thee more effectually than I can with 
 my vain spells and silly harmless brews. Now let me 
 go home ! " 
 
 A few hours later Ameni sent to invite the regent to 
 breakfast. 
 
 *' Do you know who the witch Hekt is? " asked Ani. 
 
 "Certainly — how should I not know? She is the 
 singer Beki — the former enchantress of Thebes. May I 
 ask what her communications were?" 
 
 Ani thought it best not to confide the secret of Pentaur's 
 birth to the high-priest, and answered evasively. Then 
 Ameni begged to be allowed to give him some informa- 
 tion about the old woman, and how she had had a hand 
 in the game ; and he related to his hearer, with some omis- 
 sions and variations — as if it were a fact he had long 
 known — the very story which a few hours since he had 
 overheard, and learned for the first time. Ani feigned great 
 astonishment, and agreed with the high-priest that Paaker 
 should not for the present be informed of his true origin. 
 
 " He is a strangely constituted man," said Ameni, " and 
 he is not incapable of playing us some unforeseen trick 
 before he had done his part, if he is told who he is. " 
 
 The storm had exhausted itself, and the sky, though 
 covered still with torn and flying clouds, cleared by de- 
 grees, as the morning went on ; a sharp coolness succeeded 
 the hot blast, but the sun as it mounted higher and higher 
 soon heated the air. On the roads and in the gardens lay 
 uprooted trees and many slightly-built houses which had 
 been blown down, while the tents in the strangers' quarter, 
 and hundreds of light palm-thatched roofs, had been swept 
 away. 
 
 The regent was returning to Thebes, and with him went 
 Ameni, who desired to ascertain by his own eyes what 
 mischief the whirlwind had done to his garden in the city. 
 On the Nile they met Paaker's boat, and Ani caused it 
 and his own to be stopped, while he requested Paaker to 
 visit him shortly at the palace. 
 
540 UARDA. 
 
 The high-priest's g-arden was in no respect inferior in 
 beauty and extent to that of the Mohar. The ground had 
 belonged to his family from the remotest generations, and 
 his house was large and magnificent. He seated himself 
 in a shady arbor, to take a repast with his still handsome 
 wife and his young and pretty daughters. 
 
 He consoled his wife for the various damage done by 
 the hurricane, promised the girls to build a new and 
 handsomer dove-cote in the place of the one which had 
 been blown down, and laughed and joked with them all ; 
 for here the severe head of the House of Seti, the grave 
 superior of the Necropolis, became a simple man, an 
 affectionate husband, a tender father, a judicious friend, 
 among his children, his flowers, and his birds. His 
 youngest daughter clung to his right arm, and an older 
 one to his left, when he rose from table to go with them 
 to the poultry-yard. 
 
 On the way thither a servant announced to him that the 
 lady Setchem wished to see him. 
 
 "Take her to your mistress," he said. 
 
 But the slave — who held in his hand a handsome gift in 
 money — explained that the widow wished to speak with 
 him alone. 
 
 '*Can I never enjoy an hour's peace like other men ?" 
 exclaimed Ameni, annoyed. "Your mistress can receive 
 her, and she can wait with her till I come. It is true, 
 girls — is it not ? — that I belong to you just now, and to 
 the fowls, and ducks, and pigeons ? " 
 
 His youngest daughter kissed him, the second patted 
 him affectionately, and they all three went gayly forward. 
 An hour later he requested the lady Setchem to accom- 
 pany him into the garden. 
 
 The poor, anxious, and frightened woman had resolved 
 on this step with much difficulty ; tears filled her kind 
 eyes as she communicated her troubles to the high-priest. 
 
 "Thou art a wise counselor," she said, "and thou 
 knowest well how my son honors the gods of the temple 
 of Seti with gifts and offerings. He will not listen to his 
 mother, but thou hast influence with him. He meditates 
 frightful things, and if he cannot be terrified by threats of 
 punishment from the immortals, he will raise his hand 
 against Mena, and perhaps " 
 
UARDA. 341 
 
 "Against the king," interrupted Ameni, gravely. "1 
 know it, and I will speak to him." 
 
 ''Thanks, oh, a thousand thanks!" cried the widow, 
 and she seized the high-priest's robe to kiss it. " It was 
 thou who soon after his birth didst tell my husband that 
 he was born under a lucky star, and would grow to be an 
 honor and an ornament to his house and to his country. 
 And now — now he will ruin himself in this world, and the 
 next." 
 
 ''What I foretold of your son," said Ameni, "shall 
 assuredly be fulfilled, for the ways of the gods are not 
 as the ways of men." 
 
 "Thy words do me good!" cried Setchem. "None 
 can tell what fearful terror weighed upon my heart, when 
 I made up my mind to come here. But thou dost not yet 
 know all. The great masts of cedar, which Paaker sent 
 from Lebanon to Thebes to bear our banners, and orna- 
 ment our gateway, were thrown to the ground at sunrise 
 by the frightful wind." 
 
 "Thus shall your son's defiant spirit be broken," said 
 Ameni; "but for you, if you have patience, new joys 
 shall arise." 
 
 "I thank thee again," said Setchem. "But something 
 yet remains to be said. I know that I am wasting the 
 time that thou dost devote to thy family, and I remember 
 thy saying once that here in Thebes thou wert like a 
 pack-horse with his load taken off, and free to wander 
 over a green meadow. I will not disturb thee much 
 longer — but the gods sent me such a wonderful vision. 
 Paaker would not listen to me, and I went back into my 
 room full of sorrow ; and when at last, after the sun had 
 risen, I fell asleep for a few minutes, I dreamed I saw 
 before me the poet Pentaur, who is so wonderfully like 
 my dead husband in appearance and in voice. Paaker 
 went up to him, and abused him violently, and threatened 
 him with his fist ; the priest raised his arms in prayer, just 
 as I saw him yesterday at the festival — but not in devo- 
 tion, but to seize Paaker, and wrestle with him. The 
 struggle did not last long, for Paaker seemed to shrink up^ 
 and lost his human form, and fell at the poet's feet — no'i 
 my son, but a shapeless lump of clay such as the potter! 
 use to make jars of." 
 
342 
 
 UARDA. 
 
 *' A strange dream ! " exclaimed Ameni, not without agi- 
 tation. "A very strange dreani, but it bodes you good. 
 Clay, Setchem, is yielding, and clearly indicates that 
 which the gods prepare for you. The Immortals will give 
 you a new and a better son instead of the old' one, but it 
 is not revealed to me by what means. Go now and sacri- 
 fice to the gods, and trust to the wisdom of those who 
 guide the life of the universe, and of all mortal creatures. 
 Yet — I would give you one more word of advice. If 
 Paaker comes to you repentant, receive him kindly, and 
 let me know ; but if he will not yield, close your rooms 
 against him, and let him depart without taking leave of 
 you." 
 
 When Setchem, much encouraged, was gone away, 
 Ameni said to himself: 
 
 ''She will find splendid compensation for this coarse 
 scoundrel, and she shall not spoil the tool we need to 
 strike our blow ! I have often doubted how far dreams 
 do, indeed, foretell the future, but to-day my faith in them 
 is increased. Certainly a mother's heart sees further than 
 that of other men." 
 
 At the door of her house Setchem came up with her 
 son's chariot. They saw each other, but both looked 
 away, for they could not meet affectionately, and would 
 not meet coldly. As the horses outran the litter-bearers, 
 the mother and son looked round at each other, their eyes 
 met, and each felt a stab in the heart. 
 
 In the evening the pioneer, after he had had an inter- 
 view with the regent, went to the temple of Seti to receive 
 Ameni's blessing on all his undertakings. Then, after 
 sacrificing in the tomb of his ancestors, he set out for 
 Syria. 
 
 Just as he was getting into his chariot, news was brought 
 him that the mat-maker, who had sawn through the masts 
 at the gate, had been caught. 
 
 "Put out his eyes !" he cried ; and these were the last 
 words he spoke as he quitted his home. 
 
 Setchem looked after him for a long time ; she had 
 refused to bid him farewell, and now she implored the 
 gods to turn his heart, and to preserve him from malice 
 and crime. 
 
UARDA. 343 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 Three days had passed since the pioneer's departure, 
 and although it was still early, busy occupation was astir 
 in Bent- An at 's work-rooms. 
 
 The ladies had passed the stormy night, which had 
 succeeded the exciting evening of the festival, without 
 sleep. 
 
 Nefert felt tired and sleepy the next morning, and 
 begged the princess to introduce her to her new duties 
 for the first time next day ; but the princess spoke to her 
 encouragingly, told her that no man should put off doing 
 right till the morrow, and urged her to follow her into her 
 workshop. 
 
 " We must both come to different minds," said she. ** I 
 often shudder involuntarily, and feel as if I bore a brand — 
 as if I had a stain here on my shoulder where it was 
 touched by Paaker's rough hand." 
 
 The first day of labor gave Nefert a good many difficul- 
 ties to overcome ; on the second day the work she had 
 begun already had a charm for her, and by the third she 
 rejoiced in the little results of her care. 
 
 Bent-Anat had put her in the right place, for she had 
 fJtie direction of a large number of young girls and women, 
 the daughters, wives and widows of those Thebans who 
 were at the war, or who had fallen in the field, who sorted 
 and arranged the healing herbs. 
 
 Her helpers sat in little circles on the ground ; in the 
 midst of each lay a great heap of fresh and dry plants, 
 and in front of each workwoman a number of parcels 
 of the selected roots, leaves and flowers. 
 
 An old physician presided over the whole, and had 
 shown Nefert the first day the particular plants which he 
 needed. 
 
 The wife of Mena, who was fond of flowers, had soon 
 learned them all, and she taught willingly, for she loved 
 children. 
 
344 UARDA. 
 
 She soon had favorites among the children, and knew 
 some as being industrious and careful, others as idle and 
 heedless. 
 
 "Ah! ah!" she exclaimed, bending over a little half- 
 naked maiden with great almond-shaped eyes. " You are 
 mixing them all together. Your father, as you tell me, is at 
 the war. Suppose, now, an arrow were to strike him, and 
 this plant, which would hurt him, were laid on the burning 
 wound instead of this other, which would do him good — 
 that would be very sad." 
 
 The child nodded her head, and looked her work 
 through again. Nefert turned to a little idler, and said : 
 ''You are chattering again, and doing nothing, and yet 
 your father is in the field. It he were ill now, and has no 
 medicine, and if at night when he is asleep he dreams of 
 you, and sees you sitting idle, he may say to himself : 
 'Now I might get well, but my little girl at home doesno^ 
 love me, for she would rather sit with her hands in he. 
 lap than sort herbs for her sick father. ' " 
 
 Then Nefert turned to a large group of the girls, who 
 were sorting plants, and said : " Do you, children, know 
 the origin of all these wholesome, healing herbs ? The 
 good Horus went out to fight against Seti, the murderer of 
 his father, and the horrible enemy wounded Horus in the 
 eye * in the struggle ; but the son of Osiris conquered, for 
 good always conquers evil. But when Isis saw the bad 
 wound, she pressed her son's head to her bosom, and her 
 heart was as sad as that of any poor human mother that 
 holds her suffering child in her arms. And she thought : 
 ' How easy it is to give wounds, and how hard it is to 
 heal them ! ' and so she wept ; one tear after another fell 
 on the earth, and wherever they wetted the ground there 
 sprang up a kindly healing plant." f 
 
 * According to the " Book of the Dead," and Isis also holds the eye 
 of Horus. 
 
 t The Egyptians attributed creative power to the blood and the tears of 
 the gods. Lefebure has treated the subject in " Le Mythe Osirien." In 
 " the praises of Ra," edited by Naville, the god is addressed as " Remi," 
 i. e., the weeper; and in the sentences found with the pictures of the 
 four races of men in the tomb of Seti I., at Biban el Muluk, there is a 
 passage from which it appears that man also sprung from the tears of 
 the god, since he thus addresses the people : " Ye are a tear from mine 
 eyes, Ye who are called Men I " 
 
UARDA. 
 
 345 
 
 "Isis is good!" cried a little girl opposite to her. 
 " Mother says Isis loves children when they are good." 
 
 ** Your mother is right," replied Nefert. **Isis herself 
 has her dear little son Horus ; and every human being 
 that dies, and that was good, becomes a child again, and 
 the goddess makes it her own, and takes it to her breast, 
 and nurses it with her sister Nephthys till he grows up 
 and can fight for his father." 
 
 Nefert observed that while she spoke one of the women 
 was crying. She went up to her, and learned that her 
 husband and her son were both dead, the former in Syria, 
 and the latter after his return to Egypt. 
 
 ** Poor soul!" said Nefert. "Now you will be very 
 careful, that the wounds of others may be healed. I will 
 tell you something more about Isis. She loved her hus- 
 band Osiris dearly, as you did your dead husband, and I 
 my husband Mena, but he fell a victim to the cunning of 
 Seth, and she could not tell where to find the body that 
 had been carried away, while you can visit your husband 
 in his grave. Then Isis went through the land lamenting, 
 and ah ! what was to become of Egypt, which received all 
 its fruitfulness from Osiris. The sacred Nile was dried 
 up, and not a blade of verdure was green on its banks. 
 The goddess grieved over this beyond words, and one of 
 her tears fell in the bed of the river, and immediately it 
 began to rise. You know, of course, that each inundation 
 arises from a tear of Isis. Thus a widow's sorrow may 
 bring blessing to millions of human beings." 
 
 The woman had listened to her attentively, and when 
 Nefert ceased speaking, she said : 
 
 ** But I have still three little brats of my son's to feed, 
 for his wife, who was a washerwoman, was eaten by a 
 crocodile while she was at work. Poor folks must work 
 for themselves and not for others. If the princess did not 
 pay us, I could not think of the wounds of the soldiers, 
 who do not belong to me. I am no longer strong, and four 
 mouths to fill " 
 
 Nefert was shocked — as she often was in the course of 
 her new duties — and begged Bent-Anat to raise the wages 
 of the woman. 
 
 " Willingly," said the princess. *' How could I beat 
 <4own such an as^ist^nt ? Come, now, with me iiito th? 
 
346 UARDA. 
 
 kitchen, I am having some fruit packed for my father 
 and brothers ; there must be a box for Mena, too." 
 
 Nefert followed her royal friend, found them packing in 
 one case the golden dates of the oasis of Amon,* and in 
 another the dark dates of Nubia, the king's favorite sort. 
 
 *'Let me pack them!" cried Nefert; she made the 
 servants empty the box again, and rearranged the various- 
 colored dates in graceful patterns, with other fruits pre- 
 served in sugar. 
 
 Bent-Anat looked on, and when she had finished she 
 took her hand. "Whatever your fingers have touched," 
 she exclaimed, '' takes some pretty aspect. Give me that 
 scrap of papyrus ; I shall put it in the case and write upon 
 it: 
 
 " * These were packed for King Rameses by his daugh- 
 ter's clever helpmate, the wife of Mena.' " 
 
 After the midday rest the princess was called away, and 
 Nefert remained for some hours alone with the work- 
 women. 
 
 When the sun went down, and the busy crowd were 
 about to leave, Nefert detained them, and said : *'The 
 Sun-bark is sinking behind the western hills ; come, let us 
 pray together for the king and for those we love in the 
 field. Each of you think of her own : you children of your 
 fathers, you women of your sons, and we wives of our dis- 
 tant husbands, and let us entreat Amon that they may 
 return to us as certainly as the sun, which now leaves us, 
 will rise again to-morrow morning." 
 
 Nefert knelt down, and with her the women and the 
 children. 
 
 When they rose a little girl went up to Nefert and said, 
 pulling her dress : "Thou hast made us kneel here yester- 
 day, and already my mother is better, because I prayed 
 for her." 
 
 " No doubt," said Nefert, stroking the child's black hair. 
 
 She found Bent-Anat on the terrace meditatively gazing 
 across to the Necropolis, which was fading into darkness 
 before her eyes. She started when she heard the light 
 footstep of her friend. 
 
 " I am disturbing thee," said Nefert, about to retire. 
 
 * Now called the osisis of Siwah. I(s date palms are still faniou§ for 
 
UARDA. 347 
 
 '* No, stay," said Bent-Anat. ** I thank the gods that I 
 have you, for my heart is sad — pitifully sad." 
 
 "I know where your thoughts were," said Nefert, 
 softly. 
 
 ** Well ? " asked the princess. 
 
 "With Pentaur." 
 
 ♦*I think of him — always of him," repHed the princess, 
 ''and nothing else occupies my heart. lam no longer 
 myself. What I think I ought not to think, what I feel 
 I ought not to feel, and yet I cannot command it, and I 
 think my heart would bleed to death if I tried to cut out 
 those thoughts and feelings. I have behaved strangely, 
 nay, unbecomingly, and now that which is hard to endure 
 is hanging over me, something strange — which will per- 
 haps drive you from me back to your mother." 
 
 "I will share everything with you," cried Nefert. 
 "What is going to happen? Are you then no longer the 
 daughter of Rameses ? " 
 
 "I showed myself to the people as a woman of the 
 people," answered Bent-Anat, " and I must take the con- 
 sequences. Bek-en-Chunsu, the high-priest of Amon, has 
 been with me, and I have had a long conversation with 
 him. The worthy man is good to me, I know, and my 
 father ordered me to follow his advice before anyone's. 
 He showed me that I have erred deeply. In a state of 
 uncleanness I went into one of the temples of the Necrop- 
 olis, and after I had once been in the paraschites' house 
 and incurred Ameni's displeasure, I did it a second time. 
 They know over there all that took place at the festival. 
 Now I must undergo purification, either with great solem- 
 nity at the hands of Ameni himself, before all the priests 
 and nobles in the House of Seti, or by performing a pil- 
 grimage to the Emerald-Hathor,* under whose influence 
 
 * " Hathor of the Mafkat" was especially revered in the peninsula of 
 Sinai. According to Lepsius' searching investigation as to the metals 
 of the ancient Egyptians, it is proved that Mafkat is neither copper nor 
 turquoise, but a green stone. When the Mafkat is termed " true " or 
 "genuine," emerald is meant ; in other cases malachite, Chrysoprase and 
 green glass, which are frequently found in the tombs. Ornaments of 
 malachite are rare. We may here mention an exquisite figure of the god 
 Ptah made of this stone, which is preserved in the Japanese palace at 
 Dresden. Monuments which remain at both the mining establishments 
 of Sinai, Wadi Maghara, and Sarbut el Chadem, indicate that Hathof 
 WtVs worshiped there in preference to all other divinities. 
 
348 UARDA. 
 
 the precious stones are hewn from the rocks, metals dug 
 out and purified by fire. The goddess shall purge me from 
 my uncleanness as metal is purged from the dross. At 
 a day's journey and more from the mines, an abundant 
 stream flows from the holy mountain — Sinai, as it is called 
 by the Mentu — and near it stands the sanctuary of the god- 
 dess, in which priests grant purification. The journey is 
 a long one, through the desert, and over the sea ; but Bek- 
 en-Chunsu advises me to venture it. Ameni, he says, is 
 not amiably disposed toward me, because I infringed the 
 ordinance which he values above all others. I must sub- 
 mit to double severity, he says, because the people look 
 first to those of the highest rank ; and if I went unpunished 
 for contempt of the sacred institutions there might be im- 
 itators among the crowd. He speaks in the name of the 
 gods, and they measure hearts with an equal measure. 
 The ell-measure is the symbol of the goddess of Truth* 
 I feel that it is all not unjust ; and yet I find it hard to 
 submit to the priest's decree, for I am the daughter of 
 Rameses ! " 
 
 "Ay, indeed!" exclaimed Nefert, "and he is himself 
 a god ! " 
 
 "But he taught me to respect the laws \" interrupted 
 the princess. "I discussed another thing with Bek-en- 
 Chunsu. You know I rejected the suit of the regent. He 
 must secretly be much vexed with me. That indeed would 
 not alarm me, but he is the guardian and protector ap- 
 pointed over me by my father, and yet can I turn to him 
 in confidence for counsel and help ? No ! I am still a 
 woman, and Rameses' daughter ! Sooner will I travel 
 through a thousand deserts than humiliate my father 
 through his child. By to-morrow I shall have decided ; 
 but, indeed, I have already decided to make the journey, 
 hard as it is to leave much that is here. Do not fear, 
 dear ! but you are too tender for such a journey, and to 
 such a distance ; I might " 
 
 "No, no," cried Nefert. " I am going, too, if you were 
 going to the four pillars of heaven, f at the limits of the 
 
 * The name of the goddess of Truth, Ma, was written with the hiero- 
 glyphic which represented the ell-measure. Several specimens of the old 
 sacred ell-measure have been preserved. I^cpsius has fully treated the 
 subject : Die altegyptische Elle und ihre Eintheilung. 
 
 t The pillars of heave^ are alluded to in variqus ciycuipstaftces. On 
 
UARDA. 349 
 
 earth. You have given me a new life, and the little sprout 
 that is green within me would wither again if I had to re- 
 turn to my mother. Only she or I can be in our house, 
 and I will re-enter it only with Mena." 
 
 "It is settled — I must go," said the princess. "Oh ! if 
 only my father were not so far off, and that I could con- 
 sult him ! " 
 
 *•' Yes ! the war, and always the war ! " sighed Nefert. 
 ** Why do not men rest content with what they have, and 
 prefer the quiet peace, which makes' life lovely, to idle 
 fame?" 
 
 ''Would they be men? should we love them?" cried 
 Bent-Anat, eagerly. *'Is not the mind of the gods, too, 
 bent on war ? Did you ever see a more sublime sight than 
 Pentaur, on that evening when he brandished the stake he 
 had pulled up, and exposed his life to protect an innocent 
 girl who was in danger ? " 
 
 "I dared not once look down into the court," said 
 Nefert. '* I was in such an agony of mind. But his loud 
 cry still rings in my ears." 
 
 "So rings the war-cry of heroes before whom the enemy 
 quails ! " exclaimed Bent-Anat. 
 
 "Ay, truly so rings the war-cry ! " said Prince Rameri, 
 who had entered his sister's half-dark room unperceived 
 by the two women. 
 
 The princess turned to the boy. " How you frightened 
 me ! " she said. 
 
 " You !" said Rameri, astonished. 
 
 " Yes, me. I used to have a stout heart, but since that 
 evening I frequently tremble, and an agony of terror comes 
 over me, I do not know why. I believe some demon com- 
 mands me." 
 
 "You command wherever you go; and no one com- 
 mands you," cried Rameri. "The excitement and tumult 
 in the valley, and on the quay, still agitate you. I grind 
 my teeth myself when I remember how they turned me out 
 
 the beautiful Stele of Victory of Thotmes III., at Bulaq, it is written, 
 " I, Amon, have spread the fear of thee to the four pillars of heaven." 
 They were supposed to stand at the uttermost points of the north, south, 
 east and west, and the phrase is often used for the four quarters of the 
 heavens. 
 
350 
 
 UARDA. 
 
 of the school, and how Paaker set the dog at us. I have 
 gone through a great deal to-day too. '"' 
 
 *' Where were you so long ? " asked Bent-Anat. '* My 
 Uncle Ani commanded that you should not leave the 
 palace. " 
 
 "I shall be eighteen years old next month," said the 
 prince, " and need no tutor." 
 
 ** But your father " said Bent-Anat. 
 
 ''My father ;" interrupted the boy, "he little knows 
 the regent. But I shall write to him what I have to-day 
 heard said by different people. They were to have sworn 
 allegiance to Ani at that very feast in the Valley, and it is 
 quite openly said that Ani is aiming at the throne, and in- 
 tends to depose the king. You are right, it is madness — 
 but there must be something behind it all." 
 
 Nefert turned pale, and Bent-Anat asked for particu- 
 lars. The prince repeated all he had gathered, and added, 
 laughing : * ' Ani depose my father ! It is as if I tried to 
 snatch the star of Isis from the sky to put it here for a 
 lamp — which is much wanted." 
 
 "It is more comfortable in the dark," said Nefert. 
 
 "No, let us have lights," said Bent-Anat. "It is 
 better to talk when we can see each other face to face. I 
 have no belief in the foolish talk of the people ; but 
 you are right — we must bring it to my father's knowledge." 
 
 "I heard the wildest gossip in the City of the Dead," 
 said Rameri. 
 
 " You ventured over there ? How very wrong ! " 
 
 "I disguised myself a little, and I have good news for 
 you. Pretty Uarda is much better. She received your 
 present, and they have a house of their own again. Close 
 to the one that was burnt down, there was a tumble-down 
 hovel, which her father soon put together again ; hQ is a 
 bearded soldier, who is as much like her as a hedgehog is 
 like a white dove. I offered her to work in the palace for 
 you with the other girls for good wages, but she would 
 not ; for she has to wait on her sick grandmother, and she 
 is proud, and will not serve any one." 
 
 "It seems you were a long time with the paraschites' 
 people," said Bent-Anat, reprovingly. "I should have 
 thought that what has happened to me might have served 
 you as a warning." 
 
UARDA. 
 
 35' 
 
 ** I will not be better than you ! " cried the boy. " Be- 
 sides, the paraschites is dead, and Uarda's father is a 
 respectable soldier, who can defile no one. I kept a long 
 way from the old woman. To-morrow I am going again. 
 I promised her. " 
 
 "Promised who ? " asked his sister. 
 
 " Who but Uarda ? She loves flowers, and since the 
 rose which you gave her she has not seen one. I have 
 ordered the gardener to cut me a basket full of roses 
 to-morrow morning, and shall take them to her my- 
 self." 
 
 "That you will not I " cried Bent-Anat. " You are still 
 but half a child — and, for the girl's sake too, you must 
 give it up." 
 
 "We only gossip together," said the prince, coloring, 
 " and no one shall recognize me. But certainly, if you 
 mean that, I will leave the basket of roses, and go to her 
 alone. No — sister, I will not be forbidden this ; she is so 
 charming, so white, so gentle, and her voice is so soft and 
 sweet ! And she has little feet, as small as — what shall I 
 say .? — as small and graceful as Nefert's hand. We talked 
 most about Pentaur. She knows his father, who is a gar- 
 dener, and knows a great deal about him. Only think ! 
 she says the poet cannot be the son of his parents, but a 
 good spirit that has come down on earth — perhaps a god. 
 At first she was very timid, but when I spoke of Pentaur 
 she grew eager ; her reverence for him is almost idolatry — 
 and that vexed me." 
 
 "You would rather she would reverence you so," said 
 Nefert, smiling. 
 
 "Not at all," cried Rameri. "But I helped to save 
 her, and I am so happy when I am sitting with her, that 
 to-mbrrow, I am resolved, I will put a flower in her hair. 
 It is red certainly, but as thick as yours, Bent-Anat, and 
 it must be delightful to unfasten it and stroke it." 
 
 The ladies exchanged a glance of intelligence, and the 
 princess said decidedly : 
 
 "You will not go to the City of the Dead to-morrow, 
 my little son ! " 
 
 "That we will see, my little mother! " he answered, 
 laughing ; then he turned grave. 
 
 " I saw my school-friend Anana, too," he said. " Injus- 
 
352 UARDA. 
 
 tice reigns in the House of Seti ! Pentaur is in prison, 
 and yesterday evening they sat in judgment upon him. 
 My uncle was present, and would have pounced upon the 
 poet, but Ameni took him under his protection. What 
 was finally decided, the pupils could not learn, but it must 
 have been something bad, for the son of the Treasurer 
 heard Ameni saying, after the sitting, to old Gagabu : 
 ' Punishment he deserves, but I will not let him be over- 
 whelmed ; ' and he can have meant no one but Pentaur. 
 To-morrow I will go over, and learn more ; something 
 frightful, I am afraid — several years of imprisonment is 
 the least that will happen to him." 
 
 Bent-Anat had turned very pale. 
 
 ** And whatever they do to him," she cried, *' he will 
 suffer for my sake ! Oh, ye omnipotent gods, help him —   
 help me, be merciful to us both ! " 
 
 She covered her face with her hands, and left the room. 
 Rameri asked Nefert : 
 
 "What can have come to my sister.? she seems quite 
 strange to me ; and you too are not the same as you used 
 to be." 
 
 *' We both have to find our way in new circumstances." 
 
 ''What are they?" 
 
 **That I cannot explain to you ! — but it appears to me 
 that you soon may experience something of the same kind. 
 Rameri, do not go again to the paraschites." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXn. 
 
 Early on the following day the dwarf Nemu went past 
 the restored hut of Uarda's father — in which he had 
 formerly lived with his wife — with a man in a long coarse 
 robe, the steward of some noble family. They went 
 toward old Hekt's cave-dwelling. 
 
 ** I would beg thee to wait down here a moment, noble 
 lord," said the dwarf, "while I announce thee to my 
 mother. " 
 
 " That sounds very grand," said the other. "However, 
 so be it. But stay I The old woman is not to call me by 
 
UARDA. 353 
 
 my name or by my title. She is to call me 'steward' — 
 that no one may know. But, indeed, no one would recog- 
 nize me in this dress." 
 
 Nemu hastened to the cave, but before he reached his 
 mother she called out : ** Do not keep my lord waiting — 
 I know him well." 
 
 Nemu laid his finger to his lips. 
 
 ** You are to call him steward," said he. 
 
 " Good," muttered the old woman. ''The ostrich puts 
 his head under his feathers when he does not want to be 
 seen." 
 
 " Was the young prince long with Uarda yesterday ? " 
 
 " No, you fool," laughed the witch, " the children play 
 together. Rameri is a kid without horns, but who fancies 
 he knows where they ought to grow. Pentaur is a more 
 dangerous rival with the red-headed girl. Make haste, 
 now ; these stewards must not be kept waiting." 
 
 The old woman gave the dwarf a push, and he hurried 
 back to Ani, while she carried the child, tied to his board, 
 into the cave, and threw the sack over him. 
 
 A few minutes later the regent stood before her. 
 
 She bowed before him with a demeanor that was more 
 like the singer Beki than the sorceress Hekt, and begged 
 him to take the only seat she possessed. 
 
 When, with a wave of his hand, he declined to sit down, 
 she said : 
 
 ''Yes — yes — be seated ! then thou wilt not be seen from 
 the valley, but be screened by the rocks close by. Why 
 hast thou chosen this hour for thy visit ? " 
 
 "Because the matter presses of which I wish to speak," 
 answered Ani ; " and in the evening I might easily be 
 challenged by the watch. My disguise is good. Under 
 this robe I wear my usual dress. From this I shall go to 
 the tomb of my father, where I shall take off this coarse 
 thing, and these other disfigurements, and shall wait for 
 my chariot, which is already ordered. I shall tell people 
 I had made a vow to visit the grave humbly, and on foot, 
 which I have now fulfilled." 
 
 "Well planned," muttered the old woman. 
 
 Ani pointed to the dwarf, and said politely: "Your 
 pupil." 
 
 Since her narrative, the sorceress was no longer a mere 
 23 
 
354 
 
 UARDA. 
 
 witch in his eyes. The old woman understood this, and 
 sahited him with a courtesy of such courtly formality that 
 a tame raven at her feet opened his black beak wide, and 
 uttered a loud scream. She threw a bit of cheese within 
 the cave, and the bird hopped after it, flapping his clipped 
 wing-s, and was silent. 
 
 ** I have to speak to you about Pentaur," said Ani. 
 
 The old woman's eyes flashed, and she eagerly asked, 
 *' What of him?" 
 
 ** I have reasons," answered the regent, ** for regarding 
 him as dangerous to me. He stands in my way. He has 
 committed many crimes, even murder ; but he is in favor 
 at the House of Seti, and they would willingly let him go 
 unpunished. They have the right of sitting in judgment 
 on each other, and I cannot interfere with their decisions ; 
 the day before yesterday they pronounced their sentence. 
 They would send him to the quarries of Chennu.* All my 
 objections were disregarded, and now — Nemu, go over to 
 the grave of Amenophis, and wait there for me — I wish to 
 speak to your mother alone." 
 
 Nemu bowed, and went down the slope, disappointed, 
 it is true, but sure of learning later what the two had dis- 
 cussed together. 
 
 When the little man had disappeared, Ani asked : 
 
 ** Have you still a heart true to the old royal house, to 
 which your parents were so faithfully attached ? " 
 
 The old woman nodded. 
 
 "Then you will not refuse your help toward its restora- 
 
 * Chennu is now Gebel Silsileh ; the quarries there are of enormous 
 extent, and almost all the sandstone used for building the temples of 
 Upper Egypt was brought from thence. The Nile is narrower there than 
 above, ana large stelae were erected there by Rameses II. and his suc- 
 cessor Mernephtah, on which were inscribed beautiful hymns to the Nile, 
 and lists of the sacrifices to be offered at the Nile festivals. These in- 
 scriptions can be restored by comparison, and my friend Stern and I had 
 the satisfaction of doing this on the spot (Zeitschrift fiir Agyptische 
 Sprache, 1873, P* ^29). Rameses the Great instituted two Nile festivals, 
 which Stem identifies with " the night of the drop," or " of the tear," 
 and with " the cutting of the dykes." Among the Arabs the belief still 
 prevails that the rising of the Nile proceeds from a divine tear. The 
 night of the tear is the eleventh Bauneh (in 1873 the seventeenth of 
 June) when the Nile is at its lowest, and the second festival is fixed ac- 
 cording to the level to which the waters have risen. The two Nile feasts 
 were solemnized at an interval of two months, as also are their modem 
 successors. 
 
UARDA. 355 
 
 tion. You understand how necessary the priesthood is to 
 n>e, and I have sworn not to make any attempt on Pentaur's 
 life ; but, I repeat it, he stands in my way. I have my 
 spies in the House of Seti, and I know through them what 
 the sending of the poet to Chennu really means. For a 
 time they will let him hew sandstone, and that will only 
 improve his health, for he is as sturdy as a tree. In 
 Chennu, as you know, besides the quarries there is the 
 great college of priests, which is in close alliance with the 
 temple of Seti. When the flood begins to rise, and they 
 hold the great Nile festival in Chennu, the priests there 
 have the right of taking three of the criminals who are 
 working in the quarries into their house as servants. 
 Naturally they will, next year, choose Pentaur, set him at 
 liberty — and I shall be laughed at." 
 
 *' Well considered ! " said Hekt. 
 
 **Ihave taken counsel with myself, with Katuti, and 
 even with Nemu," continued Ani, "but all that they have 
 suggested, though certainly practicable, was unadvisable, 
 and at any rate must have led to conjectures which I must 
 now avoid. What is your opinion ? " 
 
 ** Assa's race must be exterminated ! " muttered the old 
 woman, hoarsely. 
 
 She gazed at the ground, reflecting. 
 
 "Let the boat be scuttled," she said at last, "and sink 
 with the chained prisoners before it reaches Chennu." 
 
 "No — no; I thought of that myself, and Nemu too 
 advised it," cried Ani. "That has been done a hundred 
 times, and Ameni will regard me as a perjurer, for I have 
 sworn not to attempt Pentaur's life." 
 
 "To be sure, thou hast sworn that, and men keep their 
 word — to each other. Wait a moment, how would this 
 do? Let the ship reach Chennu with the prisoners, but, 
 by a secret order to the captain, pass the quarries in the 
 night, and hasten on as fast as possible as far as Ethiopia. 
 From Suan,* the prisoners may be conducted through the 
 desert to the gold workings, f Four weeks or even eight 
 
 * The modern Assuan at the first cataract. 
 
 t The frightful fate of Egyptian miners is vividly presented in a famous 
 passage of Agatharchides of Knidos, in Diodorus iii, 12, 13, and 14. 
 The Ethiopian gold mines were re-discovered in 1832-33 by Bonomi and 
 Linant Pasha, but they are now completely exhausted. 
 
356 UARDA. 
 
 may pass before it is known here what has happened. If 
 Ameni attacks thee about it, thou wilt be very angry at 
 this oversight, and canst swear by all the gods of the 
 heavens and of the abyss that thou hast not attempted 
 Pentaur's life. More weeks will pass in inquiries. Mean- 
 while do thy best, and Paaker do his, and thou art king. 
 An oath is easily broken by a scepter, and if thou wilt 
 positively keep thy word leave Pentaur at the gold mines. 
 None have yet returned from thence. My father's and 
 my brother's bones have bleached there." 
 
 " But Ameni will never believe in the mistake," cried 
 Ani, anxiously interrupting the witch. 
 
 **Then admit that thou gavest the order," exclaimed 
 Hekt. ** Explain that thou hadst learned what they pro- 
 posed doing with Pentaur at Chennu, and that thy word 
 indeed was kept, but that a criminal could not be left un- 
 punished. They will make further inquiries, and if Assa's 
 grandson is found still living thou wilt be justified. Fol- 
 low my advice, if thou wilt prove thyself a good steward 
 of thy house, and master of its inheritance." 
 
 "It will not do," said the regent. "I need Ameni's 
 support — not for to-day and to-morrow only. I will not 
 become his blind tool ; but he must believe that I am." 
 
 The old woman shrugged her shoulders, rose, went into 
 her cave, and brought out a phial. 
 
 "Take this," she said. " Four drops of it in his wine 
 infallibly destroys the drinker's senses ; try the drink on a 
 slave, and thou wilt see how effectual it is." 
 
 "What shall I do with it? " asked Ani. 
 
 " Justify thyself to Ameni," said the witch, laughing. 
 " Order the ship's captain to come to thee as soon as he 
 returns ; entertain him with wine — and when Ameni sees 
 the distracted wretch, why should he not believe that in a 
 fit of craziness he sailed past Chennu ? " 
 
 "That is clever! that is splendid!" exclaimed Ani. 
 * ' What is once remarkable never becomes common. You 
 were the greatest of singers — you are now the wisest of 
 women — my lady Beki." 
 
 "I am no longer Beki, I am Hekt," said the old woman, 
 shortly. 
 
 "As you will. In truth, if I had ever heard Beki's 
 pinging, I should be bound to still greater gratitude to her 
 
UARDA. 357 
 
 than I now am to HeH^said Ani, smiling. "Still, I 
 cannot quit the wisest woman in Thebes without asking 
 her one serious question. Is it given to you to read the 
 future ? Have you means at your command whereby you 
 can see whether the great stake — you know which I mean 
 — shall be won or lost ? " 
 
 Hekt looked at the ground, and said, after reflecting a 
 short time : 
 
 "I cannot decide with certainty, but thy affair stands 
 well. Look at those two hawks with the chain on their 
 feet. They take their food from no one but me. The one 
 that is moulting, with closed, gray eyelids, is Rameses ; 
 the smart, smooth one, with shining eyes, is thyself. It 
 comes to this — which of you lives the longest. So far, 
 thou hast the advantage." 
 
 Ani cast an evil glance at the king's sick hawk ; but 
 Hekt said : * ' Both must be treated exactly alike. Fate 
 will not be done violence to." 
 
 "Feed them well," exclaimed the regent ; he threw a 
 purse into Hekt's lap, and added, as he prepared to leave 
 her: " If anything happens to either of the birds let me 
 know at once by Nemu." 
 
 Ani went down the hill, and walked toward the neigh- 
 boring tomb of his father ; but Hekt laughed as she looked 
 after him, and muttered to herself : 
 
 ' ' Now the fool will take care of me for the sake of his 
 bird ! That smilmg, spiritless, indolent-minded man 
 would rule Egypt ! Am I then so much wiser than other 
 folks, or do none but fools come to consult Hekt ? But 
 Rameses chose Ani to represent him ! perhaps because he 
 thinks that those who are not particularly clever are not 
 particularly dangerous. If that is what he thought, he 
 was not wise, for no one usually is so self-confident and 
 insolent as just such an idiot." 
 
3S8 UARDA. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 An hour later, Ani, in rich attire, left his father's tomb, 
 and drove his brilliant chariot past the witch's cave, and 
 the little cottage of Uarda's father. 
 
 Nemu squatted on the step, the dv\rarfs usual place. 
 The little man looked down at the lately rebuilt hut, and 
 ground his teeth, when, through an opening in the hedge, 
 he saw the white robe of a man, who was sitting by 
 Uarda. 
 
 The pretty child's visitor was Prince Rameri, who had 
 crossed the Nile in the early morning, dressed as a young 
 scribe of the treasury, to obtain news of Pentaur — and to 
 stick a rose into Uarda's hair. 
 
 This purpose was, indeed, the more important of the two, 
 for the other must, in point of time at any rate, be the 
 second. 
 
 Ho found it necessary to excuse himself to his own con- 
 science with a variety of cogent reasons. In the first place 
 the rose, which lay carefully secured in a fold of his robe, 
 ran great danger of fading if he first waited for his com- 
 panions near the temple of Seti ; next, a hasty return from 
 thence to Thebes might prove necessary ; and finally, it 
 seemed to him not impossible that Bent-Anat might send 
 a master of the ceremonies after him, and if that hap- 
 dened any delay might frustrate his purpose. 
 
 His heart beat loud and violently, not for love of the 
 maiden, but because he felt he was doing wrong. 
 
 The spot that he must tread was unclean, and he had, 
 for the first time, told a lie. He had given himself out to 
 Uarda to be a noble youth of Bent-Anat s train, and as 
 one falsehood usually entails another, in answer to her 
 questions he had given her false information as to his 
 parents and his life. 
 
 Had evil more power over him in this unclean spot 
 than in the House of Seti, and at his father's ? It might 
 very well be so, for all disturbance in nature and men was 
 
UARDA. 359 
 
 ♦he work of Seth, and how wild was the storm in his 
 breast ! And yet ! He wished nothing but good to come 
 of it to Uarda. She was so fair and sweet — like some 
 child of the gods : and certainly the white maiden must 
 have been stolen from some one, and could not possibly 
 belong to the unclean people. 
 
 When the prince entered the court of the hut, Uarda 
 was not to be seen, but he soon heard her voice singing 
 out through the open door. She came out into the air, 
 for the dog barked furiously at Rameri. When she saw 
 the prince, she started, and said : 
 
 "You are here already again, and yet I warned you. 
 My grandmother in there is the wife of a paraschites." 
 
 *' I am not come to visit her," retorted the prince, *' but 
 you only; and you do not belong to them, of that I am 
 convinced. No roses grow in the desert." 
 
 *' And yet I am my father's child," said Uarda, decid- 
 edly, *' and my poor dead grandfather's grandchild. 
 Certainly I belong to them, and those that do not think 
 me good enough for them may keep away." 
 
 With these words she turned to re-enter the house ; but 
 Rameri seized her hand and held her back, saying : 
 
 **How cruel you are! I tried to save you, and came 
 to see you before I thought that you might — and, indeed, 
 you are quite unlike the people whom you call your re- 
 lations. You must not misunderstand me ; but it would 
 be horrible to me to believe that you, who are so beautiful, 
 and as white as a lily, have any part in the hideous curse. 
 You charm every one, even my mistress, Bent-Anat, and 
 it seems to me impossible " 
 
 "That I should belong to the unclean — say it out, "said 
 Uarda, softly, and casting down her eyes. 
 
 Then she continued more excitedly : " But I tell you 
 the curse is unjust, for a better man never lived than my 
 grandfather was." 
 
 Tears sprang from her eyes, and Rameri said : " I fully 
 believe it ; and it must be very difficult to continue good 
 when every one despises and scorns one ; I at least can 
 be brought to no good by blame, though I can by praise. 
 Certainly people are obliged to meet me and mine with 
 respect. " 
 
 *' And us with contempt 1 " exclaimed Uarda. " But I 
 
360 UARDA. 
 
 will tell you something. If a man is sure that he is good, 
 it is all the same to him whether he be despised or honored 
 by other people. Nay, we may be prouder than you ; for 
 you great folks must often say to yourselves that you are 
 worth less than men value you at, and we know that we 
 are worth more." 
 
 "I have often thought that of you," exclaimed Rameri, 
 ''and there is one who recognizes your worth, and that is 
 I. Even if it were otherwise, I must always — always think 
 of you." 
 
 " I have thought of you too," said Uarda. *' Just now, 
 when I was sitting with my sick grandmother, it passed 
 through my mind how nice it would be if I had a brother 
 just like you. Do you know what I should do if you were 
 my brother ? " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " I should buy you a chariot and horse, and you should 
 go away to the king's war." 
 
 ** Are you so rich ? " asked Rameri, smiling. 
 
 "Oh, yes!" answered Uarda. "To be sure, I have 
 not been rich for more than an hour. Can you read ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Only think, when I was ill they sent a doctor to me 
 from the House of Seti. He was very clever, but a strange 
 man. He often looked into my eyes like a drunken man, 
 and he stammered when he spoke." 
 
 "Is his name Nebsecht? " asked the prince. 
 
 * ' Yes, Nebsecht. He planned strange things with grand- 
 father, and after Pentaur and you had saved us in the 
 frightful attack upon us he interceded for us. Since then 
 he has not come again, for I was already much better. 
 Now to-day, about two hours ago, the dog barked, and an 
 old man, a stranger, came up to me and said he was 
 Nebsecht's brother, and had a great deal of money in his 
 charge for me. He gave me a ring too, and said that he 
 would pay the money to him who took the ring to him from 
 me. Then he read this letter to me." 
 
 Rameri took the letter and read : 
 
 "Nebsecht to the fair Uarda. 
 
 "Nebsecht greets Uarda, and informs her that he owed 
 her grandfather in Osiris, Pinem — whose body the kol- 
 chytes are embalming like that of a noble — a sum of a 
 
UARDA. 361 
 
 thousand gold rings. These he has entrusted to his brother 
 Teta to hold ready for her at any moment. She may trust 
 Teta entirely, for he is honest, and ask him for money 
 whenever she needs it. It would be best that she should 
 ask Teta to take care of the money for her, and to buy 
 her a house and field ; then she could remove into it, and 
 live in it free from care with her grandmother. She may 
 wait a year and then she may choose a husband. Neb- 
 secht loves Uarda much. If at the end of thirteen months 
 he has not been to see her, she had better marry whom 
 she will ; but not before she has shown the jewel left her 
 by her mother to the king's interpreter." 
 
 ''How strange!" exclaimed Rameri. "Who would 
 have given the singular physician, who always wore such 
 dirty clothes, credit for such generosity ? But what is this 
 jewel that you have ? " 
 
 Uarda opened her shirt, and showed the prince the 
 sparkling ornament. 
 
 ''Those are diamonds — it is very valuable ! " cried the 
 prince ; " and there in the middle on the onyx there are 
 sharply engraved signs. I cannot read them, but I will 
 show them to the interpreter. Did your mother wear 
 that.?" 
 
 " My father found it on her when she died," said Uarda. 
 "She came to Egypt as a prisoner of war, and was as 
 white as I am, but dumb, so she could not tell us the 
 name of her home." 
 
 "She belonged to some great house among the foreign- 
 ers, and the children inherit from the mother," cried the 
 prince, joyfully. " You are a princess, Uarda ! Oh, how 
 glad I am, and how much I love you ! " 
 
 The girl smiled and said, " Now you will not be afraid 
 to touch the daughter of the unclean." 
 
 "You are cruel," replied the prince. "Shall I tell you 
 what I determined on yesterday — what would not let me 
 sleep last night — and for what I came here to-day ? " 
 
 "Well.?" 
 
 Rameri took a most beautiful white rose out of his robe 
 and said : 
 
 "It is very childish, but I thought how it would be if I 
 might put this flower with my own hands into your shin- 
 ing hair. May I ? " 
 
362 UARDA. 
 
 *' It is a splendid rose ! I never saw such a fine one/* 
 
 ** It is for my haughty princess. Do pray let me dress 
 your hair ! It is like silk from Tyre, like a swan's breast, 
 like golden star-beams — there, it is fixed safely ! Nay, 
 leave it so. If the seven Hathors could see you, they 
 would be jealous, for you are fairer than all of them." 
 
 " How you flatter ! " said Uarda, shyly blushing, and 
 looking into his sparkling eyes. 
 
 *' Uarda," said the prince, pressing her hand to his 
 heart, " I have now but one wish. Feel how my heart 
 hammers and beats. I believe it will never rest again till 
 you — yes, Uarda — till you let me give you one, only one, 
 kiss. " 
 
 The girl drew back. 
 
 **Now," she said, seriously. ''Now I see what you 
 want. Old Hekt knows men, and she warned me." 
 
 "Who is Hekt, and what can she know of me? " 
 
 "She told me that the time would come when a man 
 would try to make friends with me. He would look into 
 me eyes, and if mine met his, then he would ask to kiss 
 me. But I must refuse him, because if I Hked him to 
 kiss me he would seize my soul, and take it from me, and 
 I must wander, like the restless ghosts, which the abyss 
 rejects, and the storm whirls before it, and the sea will not 
 cover, and the sky will not receive, soulless to the end of 
 my days. Go away — for I cannot refuse you the kiss, and 
 yet I would not wander restless, and without a soul ! " 
 
 " Is the old woman who told you that a good woman ? " 
 asked Rameri. 
 
 Uarda shook her head. 
 
 "Then it cannot be true," cried the prince. "Then 
 she has spoken a falsehood. I will not seize your soul ; I 
 will give you mine to be yours, and you shall give me yours 
 to be mine, and so we shall neither of us be poorer — but 
 both richer ! " 
 
 "I should like to believe it," said Uarda, thoughtfully, 
 "and I have thought the same kind of thing. When I 
 was strong, I often had to go late in the evening to fetch 
 water from the landing-place where the great water-wheel 
 stands. Thousands of drops fall from the earthenware 
 pails as it turns, and in each you can see the reflection of a 
 inoon, yet th^re is only one in the sky. Then I thoug;ht 
 
UARDA. 363 
 
 to myself, so it must be with the love in our hearts. We 
 have but one heart, and yet we pour it out into other 
 hearts without its losing in strength or in warmth. I 
 thought of my grandmother, of my father, of little 
 Scherau, of the gods, and of Pentaur. Now I should like 
 to give you a part of it too." 
 
 "Only a part ? " asked Rameri. 
 
 ''Well, the whole will be reflected in you, you know," 
 said Uarda, *' as the whole moon is reflected in each drop." 
 
 ** It shall ! " cried the prince, clasping the trembling girl 
 in his arms, and the two young souls were united in their 
 first kiss. 
 
 "Now do go ! " Uarda entreated. 
 
 " Let me stay a little while," said Rameri. " Sit down 
 here by me on the bench in front of the house. The 
 hedge shelters us, and besides this valley is now deserted, 
 and there are no passers-by." 
 
 "We are doing what is not right," said Uarda. " If it 
 were right we should not want to hide ourselves." 
 
 "Do you call that wrong which the priests perform in 
 the holy of holies ?" asked the prince. *'And yet it is 
 concealed from all eyes." 
 
 " How you can argue ! " laughedUarda. " That shows 
 you can write, and are one oi his disciples." 
 
 " His, his ! " exclamed Rameri. "You mean Pentaur. 
 He was always the dearest to me of all my teachers, but it 
 vexes me when you speak of him as if he were more to 
 you than I and every one else. The poet, you said, was 
 one of the drops in which the moon of your soul finds a 
 reflection — and I will not divide it with many." 
 
 "How you are talking!" said Uarda. "Do you not 
 honor your father, and the gods ? I love no one else as I 
 do you — and what I felt when you kissed me — that was not 
 like moonlight, but like this hot midday sun. When I 
 thought of you I had no peace. I will confess to you now, 
 that twenty times I looked out of the door and asked 
 whether my preserver — the kind, curly-headed boy — would 
 really come again, or whether he despised a poor girl like 
 me? You came, and I am so happy, and I could enjoy 
 myself with you to my heart's content. Be kind again — or 
 I will pull your hair ! " 
 
 ^' You ! ■' cried Ra^neri. " You cannot hurt wi^h yoxkX 
 
364 UARDA. 
 
 little hands, though you can with your tougue. Pentaur 
 is much wiser and better than I, you owe much to him, 
 
 and nevertheless I " 
 
 **Let that rest," interrupted the girl, growing grave. 
 *' He is not a man like other men. If he asked to kiss me, 
 I should crumble into dust, as ashes dried in the sun 
 crumble if you touch them with a finger, and I should be 
 as much afraid of his lips as of a lion's. Though you may 
 laugh at it, I shall always beHeve that he is one of the im- 
 mortals. His own father told me that a great wonder was 
 shown to him the very day after his birth. Old Hekt has 
 often sent me to the gardener with a message to inquire 
 after his son, and though the man is rough he is kind. At 
 first he was not friendly, but when he saw how much I 
 liked his flowers he grew fond of me, and set me to work 
 to tie wreaths and bunches, and to carry them to his cus- 
 tomers. As we sat together, laying the flowers side by 
 side, he constantly told me something about his son, and 
 his beauty, and goodness, and wisdom. When he was 
 quite a little boy he could write poems, and he learned to 
 read before any one had shown him how. The high-priest 
 Ameni heard of it and took him to the House of Seti, and 
 there he improved, to the astonishment of the gardener ; 
 not long after I went through the garden with the old man. 
 He talked of Pentaur as usual, and then stood still before 
 a noble shrub with broad leaves, and said, ' My son is like 
 this plant, which has grown up close to me, and I know 
 not how. I laid the seed in the soil, with others that I 
 bought over there in Thebes ; no one knows where it came 
 from, and yet it is my own. It certainly is not a native 
 of Egypt ; and is not Pentaur as high above me and his 
 mother and his brothers as this shrub is above the other 
 flowers ? We are all small and bony, and he is tall and 
 slim ; our skin is dark and his is rosy ; our speech is hoarse, 
 his is sweet as a song. I believe he is a child of the gods 
 that the Immortals have laid in my homely house. Who 
 knows their decrees ? ' And then I often saw Pentaur at 
 the festivals, and asked myself which of the other priests 
 of the temple came near him in height and dignity ? I 
 took him for a god^ and when I saw him who saved my 
 life overcome a whole mob with superhuman strength, 
 must I not regard him as a superior being ? I look up to 
 
UARDA. 365 
 
 him as to one of them ; but I could never look in his eyes 
 as I do in yours. It would not make my blood flow faster ; 
 it would freeze it in my veins. How can I say what I 
 mean ! my soul looks straight out, and it finds you; but 
 to find him it must look up to the heavens. You are a 
 fresh rose-garland with which I crown myself — he is a 
 sacred persea-tree* before which I bow." 
 
 Rameri listened to her in silence, and then said, " I am 
 still young, and have done nothing yet, but the time shall 
 come in which you shall look up to me too as to a tree, 
 not perhaps a sacred tree, but as to a sycamore under 
 whose shade we love to rest. I am no longer gay ; I will 
 leave you, for I have a serious duty to fulfill. Pentaur is 
 a complete man, and I will be one too. But you shall be 
 the rose-garland to grace me. Men who can be com- 
 pared to flowers disgust me ! " 
 
 The prince rose and offered Uarda his hand. 
 
 "You have a strong hand," said the girl. '* You will 
 be a noble man, and work for good and great ends ; 
 only look, my fingers are quite red with being held so 
 tightly. But they too are not quite useless. They have 
 never done anything very hard certainly, but what they 
 tend flourishes, and grandmother says they are Mucky.' 
 Look at the lovely lilies and the pomegranate bush in that 
 corner. Grandfather brought the earth here from the 
 Nile, Pentaur's father gave me the seeds, and each little 
 plant that ventured to show a green shoot through the 
 soil I sheltered and nursed and watered, though I had to 
 fetch the water in my little pitcher, till it was vigorous, 
 and thanked me with flowers. Take this pomegranate 
 flower. It is the first my tree has borne ; and it is very 
 strange, when the bud first began to lengthen and swell 
 my grandmother said, * Now your heart will soon begin 
 to bud and love.' I know now what she meant, and both 
 the first flowers belong to you — the red one here off the 
 tree, and the other, which you cannot see, but which 
 glows as brightly as this does." 
 
 Rameri pressed the scarlet blossom to his lips, and 
 stretched out his hand toward Uarda ; but she shrank 
 back, for a little figure slipped through an opening in the 
 hedge. 
 
 * Persea, probably Balanistes vEgyptiaca. 
 
3d6 UARDA. 
 
 It was Scherau. 
 
 His pretty little face glowed with his quick run, and his 
 breath was gone. For a few minutes he tried in vain for 
 words, and looked anxiously at the prince. 
 
 Uarda saw that something unusual agitated him ; she 
 spoke to him kindly, saying that if he wished to speak to 
 her alone he need not be afraid of Rameri, for he was her 
 best friend. 
 
 "But it does not concern you and me," replied the 
 child, "but the good, holy father Pentaur, who was so 
 kind to me, and who saved your life. " 
 
 "I am a great friend of Pentaur," said the prince. "Is 
 it not true, Uarda ? He may speak with confidence be- 
 fore me." 
 
 " I may ? " said Scherau, " that is well. I have slipped 
 away ; Hekt may come back at any moment, and if she 
 sees that I have taken myself off I shall get a beating and 
 nothing to eat/' 
 
 "Who is this horrible Hekt?" asked Rameri, indig- 
 nantly. 
 
 "That Uarda can tell you by and by," said the little 
 one, hurriedly. "Now only listen. She laid me on my 
 board in the cave, and threw a sack over me, and first 
 came Nemu, and then another man, whom she spoke to 
 as * Steward.* She talked to him a long time. At first I 
 did not listen, but then I caught the name of Pentaur, and 
 I got my head out, and now I understand it all. The 
 steward declared that the good Pentaur was wicked, and 
 stood in his way, and he said that Ameni was going to 
 send him to the quarries at Chennu, but that was much 
 too small a punishment. Then Hekt advised him to give 
 a secret commission to the captain of the ship to go beyond 
 Chennu, to the frightful mountain-mines, of which she 
 has often told me, for her father and her brother were tor- 
 mented to death there." 
 
 * * None ever return from thence, " said the prince. * * But 
 go on." 
 
 "What came next, I only half understood, but they 
 spoke of some drink that makes people mad. Oh ! what 
 I see and hear ! I would lie contentedly on my board all 
 my life long, but all else is too horrible — I wish that I 
 were dead" 
 
UARDA. 367 
 
 And the child began to cry bitterly. 
 
 Uarda, whose cheeks had turned pale, patted him affec- 
 tionately ; but Rameri exclaimed : 
 
 "It is frightful! unheard of! But who was the stew- 
 ard ? did you not hear his name ? Collect yourself, little 
 man, and stop crying. It is a case of life and death. 
 Who was the scoundrel ? Did she not name "him. Try 
 to remember." \ 
 
 Scherau bit his red lips, and tried for composofe. His 
 tears ceased, and suddenly he exclaimed, as he'\put his 
 hand into the breast of his ragged little garment, *^3ta,y, 
 perhaps you will know him again — I made him ! " 
 
 ** You did what ? " asked the prince. 
 
 " I made him," repeated the little artist, and he care- 
 fully brought out an object wrapped up in a scrap of rag. 
 "I could see his head quite clearly from one side all the 
 time he was speaking, and my clay lay by me. I al- 
 ways must model something when my mind is excited, 
 and this time I quickly made his face, and as the image 
 was successful, I kept it about me to show to the master 
 when Hekt was out." 
 
 While he spoke he had carefully unwrapped the figure 
 with trembling fingers, and had given it to Uarda. 
 
 **Ani ! " cried the prince. " He, and no other! Who 
 could have thought it .? What spite has he against Pen- 
 taur ? What is the priest to him ? " 
 
 For a moment he reflected, then he struck his hand 
 against his forehead. 
 
 "Fool that I am ! " he exclaimed, vehemently. " Child 
 that I am ! of course, of course ; I see it all. Ani asked 
 for Bent-Anat's hand, and she — now that I love you, Uarda, 
 I understand what ails her. Away with deceit ! I will 
 tell you no more lies, Uarda. I am no page of honor to 
 Bent-Anat : I am her brother, and King Rameses' own 
 son. Do not cover your face with your hands, Uarda, 
 for if I had not seen your mother's jewel, and if I were 
 not only a prince, but Horus himself, the son of Isis, I 
 must have loved you, and would not have given you up. 
 But now other things have to be done besides lingering 
 with you ; now I will show you that I am a man, now 
 that Pentaur is to be saved. Farewell, Uarda, and think 
 of me I " 
 
368 UARDA. 
 
 He would have hurried off, but Scherau held him by the 
 robe, and said, timidly : "Thou sayst thou art Rameses' 
 son. Hekt spoke of him too. She compared him to our 
 moulting hawk." 
 
 *' She shall soon feel the talons of the royal eagle," cried 
 Rameri. " Once more, farewell ! " 
 
 He gave Uarda his hand, she pressed it passionately to 
 her lips, but he drew it away, kissed her forehead, and was 
 gone. 
 
 The maiden looked after him pale and speechless. 
 
 She saw another man hastening toward her, and recog- 
 nizing him as her father, she went quickly to meet him. 
 The soldier had come to take leave of her ; he had to escort 
 some prisoners. 
 
 "To Chennu ? " asked Uarda. 
 
 "No, to the north," replied the man. 
 
 His daughter now related what she had heard, and 
 asked whether he could help the priest, who had saved her. 
 
 " If I had money, if I had money ! " muttered the soldier 
 to himself. 
 
 "We have some," cried Uarda; she told him of Neb- 
 secht's gift,* and said : "Take me over the Nile, and in 
 two hours you will have enough to mal^ a man rich. 
 But no ; I cannot leave my sick grandmother. You your- 
 self take the ring, and remember that Pentaur is being 
 punished for having dared to protect us." 
 
 "I remember it," said the soldier. "I have but one 
 life, but I will willingly give it to save his. I cannot de- 
 vise schemes, but I know something, and if it succeeds he 
 need not go to the gold mines. I will put the wine-flask 
 aside ; give me a drink of water, for the next few hours I 
 must keep a sober head." 
 
 "There is the water, and 1 will pour in a mouthful of 
 wine. Will you come back and bring me news ? " 
 
 * ' That will not do, for we set sail at midnight, but if 
 some one returns to you with the ring you will know that 
 what I propose has succeeded." 
 
 * It may be observed that among the Egyptians women were qualified to 
 own and dispose of property. For example a papyrus (VII) in the Louvre 
 contains an agreement between Asklepias (called Senimuthis), the 
 daughter or maid-servant of a corpse-dresser of Thebes, who is the 
 debtor, and Arsiesis, the creditor, the son of a Kolchytes ; both, there- 
 fore, are of the same rank as Uarda. 
 
UARDA. 369 
 
 Uarda went into the hut, her father followed her ; he 
 took leave of his sick mother and of his daughter. When 
 they went out of doors again, he said : " You have to live 
 on the princess' gift till I return, and I do not want half 
 of the physician's present. But where is your pome- 
 granate blossom.? " 
 
 "I have picked it and preserved it in a safe place." 
 '* Strange things are women!" muttered the bearded 
 man ; he tenderly kissed his child's forehead, and returned 
 to the Nile down the road by which he had come. 
 
 The prince meanwhile had hurried on, and inquired in 
 the harbor of the Necropolis where the vessel destined for 
 Chennu was lying — for the ships loaded with prisoners 
 were accustomed to sail from this side of the river, start- 
 ing at night. Then he was ferried over the river, and 
 hastened to Bent-Anat. He found her and Nefert in un- 
 usual excitement, for the faithful chamberlain had learned 
 — through some friends of the king in Ani's suite — that 
 the regent had kept back all the letters intended for Syria, 
 and among them those of the royal family. 
 
 A lord in waiting, who was devoted to the king, had 
 been encouraged by the chamberlain to communicate to 
 Bent-Anat other things, which hardly allowed any doubts 
 as to the ambitious projects of her uncle ; she was also ex- 
 horted to be on her guard with Nefert, whose mother was 
 the confidential adviser of the regent. 
 
 Bent-Anat smiled at this warning, and sent at once a 
 message to Ani to inform him that she was ready to un- 
 dertake the pilgrimage to the " Emerald-Hathor," and to 
 be purified in the sanctuary of that goddess. 
 
 She purposed sending a message to her father from 
 thence, and if he permitted it, joining him at the camp. 
 
 She imparted this plan to her friend, and Nefert thought 
 any road the best that would take her to her husband. 
 
 Rameri was soon initiated into all this, and in return he 
 told them all he had learned, and let Bent-Anat guess that 
 he had read her secret. 
 
 So dignified, so grave, were the conduct and the speech 
 of the boy who had so lately been an overbearing madcap, 
 that Bent-Anat thought to herself that the danger of theii 
 house had suddenly ripened a boy into a man. 
 U 
 
370 UARDA. 
 
 She had in fact no objection to raise to his arrange* 
 ments. He proposed to travel after sunset, with a few 
 faithful servants on swift horses as far as Keft,* and from 
 thence ride fast across the desert to the Red Sea, where 
 they could take a Phoenician ship, and sail to Aila.f 
 From thence they would cross the peninsula of Sinai, and 
 strive to reach the Egyptian army by forced marches, and 
 make the king acquainted with Ani s criminal attempts. 
 
 To Bent-Anat was given the task of rescuing Pentaur, 
 with the help of the faithful chamberlain. 
 
 Money was fortunately not wanting, as the high treasurer 
 was on their side. All depended on their inducing the 
 captain to stop at Chennu ; the poet's fate would there, at 
 the worst, be endurable. At the same time, a trustworthy 
 messenger was to be sent to the governor of Chennu, com- 
 manding him in the name of the king to detain every ship 
 that might pass the narrows of Chennu by night, and to 
 prevent any of the prisoners that had been condemned to 
 the quarries from being smuggled on to Ethiopia. 
 
 Rameri took leave of the two women, and he succeeded 
 in leaving Thebes unobserved. 
 
 Bent-Anat knelt in prayer before the images of her 
 mother in Osiris, of Hathor, and of the guardian gods of 
 her house, till the chamberlain returned, and told her that 
 he had persuaded the captain of the ship to stop at Chennu, 
 and to conceal from Ani that he had betrayed his charge. 
 
 The princess breathed more freely, for she had come to 
 a resolution that if the chamberlain had failed in his mis- 
 sion, she would cross over to the Necropolis, forbid the 
 departure of the vessel, and in the last extremity rouse the 
 people, who were devoted to her, against Ani. 
 
 The following morning the lady Katuti craved permis- 
 sion of the princess to see her daughter. Bent-Anat did 
 not show herself to the widow, whose efforts failed to keep 
 her daughter from accompanying the princess on her 
 journey, or to induce her to leturn home. Angry and 
 uneasy, the indignant mother hastened to Ani, and 
 implored him to keep Nefert at home by force ; but the 
 regent wished to avoid attracting attention, and to let 
 Bent-Anat set out with a feeling of complete security. 
 
 ♦Koptos, now Qeft on the Nile. t Now Aqaba. 
 
UARDA. 37 1 
 
 " Do not be uneasy," he said. " I will give the ladies a 
 trustworthy escort, who will keep them at the sanctuary 
 of the ' Emerald-Hathor ' till all is settled. There you 
 can deliver Nefert to Paaker, if you still like to have him 
 for a son-in-law after hearing several things that I have 
 learned. As for me, in the end I may induce my haughty 
 niece to look up instead of down ; I may be her second 
 love, though for that matter she certainly is not my first." 
 
 On the following day the princess set out. 
 
 Ani took leave of her with kindly formality, which she 
 returned with coolness. The priesthood of the temple of 
 Amon, with old Bek-en-Chunsu at their head, escorted her 
 to the harbor. The people on the banks shouted Bent- 
 Anat's name with a thousand blessings, but many insulting 
 words were to be heard also. 
 
 The pilgrim's Nile-boat was followed by two others, full 
 of soldiers, who accompanied the ladies " to protect them." 
 
 The south wind filled the sails and carried the little pro- 
 cession swiftly down the stream. The princess looked now 
 toward the palace of her fathers, now toward the tombs 
 and temples of the Necropolis. At last even the colossus 
 of Amenophis disappeared, and the last houses of Thebes. 
 The brave maiden sighed deeply, and tears rolled down 
 her cheeks. She felt as if she were flying after a lost 
 battle, and yet not wholly discouraged, but hoping for 
 future victory. As she turned to go to the cabin a veiled 
 girl stepped up to her, took the veil from her face, and 
 said : 
 
 " Pardon me, princess; I am Uarda, whom thou didst 
 run over, and to whom thou hast since been so good. My 
 grandmother is dead, and I am quite alone. I slipped in 
 among thy maid-servants, for I wish to follow thee and to 
 obey all thy commands. Only do not send me away." 
 
 *' Stay, dear child," said the princess, laying her hand 
 on her hair. 
 
 Then, struck by its wonderful beauty, she remembered 
 her brother, and his wish to place a rose in Uarda's shin- 
 ing tresses. 
 
372 UARDA. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 Two months had passed since Bent-Anat's departure 
 from Thebes and the imprisonment of Pentaur. 
 
 Ant-Baba is the name of the valley, in the western half 
 of the peninsula of Sinai, through which a long procession 
 of human beings, and of beasts of burden, wended their 
 way. 
 
 It was winter, and yet the midday sun sent down glow- 
 ing rays, which were reflected from the naked rocks. In 
 front of the caravan marched a company of Libyan soldiers, 
 and another brought up the rear. Each man was armed 
 with a dagger and battle-ax, a shield and a lance, and was 
 ready to use his weapons ; for those whom they were 
 escorting were prisoners from the emerald mines, who had 
 been convoyed to the shores of the Red Sea to carry thither 
 the produce of the mines, and had received, as a return 
 load, provisions which had arrived from Egypt, and which 
 were to be carried to the store-houses of the mountain mines. 
 Bent and panting, they made their way along. Each pris- 
 oner had a copper chain riveted round his ankles, and torn 
 rags hanging round their loins were the only clothing of 
 these unhappy beings, who, gasping under the weight of 
 the sacks they had to carry, kept their staring eyes fixed 
 on the ground. If one of them threatened to sink 
 altogether under his burden, he was refreshed by the whip 
 of one of the horsemen, who accompanied the caravan. 
 Many a one found it hard to choose whether he could best 
 endure the sufferings of mere endurance, or the torture of 
 the lash. 
 
 No one spoke a word, neither the prisoners nor their 
 guards ; and even those who were flogged did not cry out, 
 for their powers were exhausted, and in the souls of their 
 drivers there was no more impulse of pity than there was 
 a green herb on the rocks by the way. This melancholy 
 procession moved silently onward, like a procession of 
 phantoms, and the ear was only made aware of it when 
 
UARDA. 373 
 
 now and then a low groan broke from one of the 
 victims. 
 
 The sandy path, trodden by their naked feet, g-ave no 
 sound, the mountains seemed to withhold their shade, the 
 light of day was a torment — everything far and near 
 seemed inimical to the living. Not a plant, not a creep- 
 ing thing showed itself against the weird forms of the 
 barren gray and brown rocks, and no soaring bird 
 tempted the oppressed wretches to raise their eyes to 
 heaven. 
 
 In the noontide heat of the previous day they had 
 started with their loads from the harbor-creek. For two 
 hours they had followed the shore of the glistening, blue- 
 green sea,* then they had climbed a rocky shoulder and 
 crossed a small plateau. They had paused for their night's 
 rest in the gorge which led to the mines ; the guides and 
 soldiers lighted fires, grouped themselves round them, 
 and lay down to sleep under the shelter of a cleft in the 
 rocks ; the prisoners stretched themselves on the earth in 
 the middle of the valley without any shelter, and shiver- 
 ing with the cold which suddenly succeeded the glowing 
 heat of the day. The benumbed wretches now looked for- 
 ward to the crushing misery of the morning's labor as 
 eagerly as, a few hours since, they had longed for the 
 night and for rest. 
 
 Lentil-broth and hard bread in abundance, but a very 
 small quantity of water, was given to them before they 
 started ; then they set out through the gorge, which grew 
 hotter and hotter, and through ravines where they could 
 pass only one by one. Every now and then it seemed as 
 if the path came to an end, but each time it found an outlet, 
 and went on — as endless as the torment of the wa)''farers. 
 
 Mighty walls of rock composed the view, looking as if 
 they were formed of angular masses of hewn stone piled 
 up in rows ; and of all the miners one, and one only, had 
 eyes for these curious structures of the ever various hand 
 of nature. 
 
 *The Red Sea — in Hebrew and Coptic the reedy sea — is of a lovely 
 blue-green color. According to the ancients it was named red either from 
 its red banks or from the Erythraeans, who were called the red people. 
 On an early inscription it is called " the water of the Red country." See 
 •' Durch Gosen zum Sinai." 
 
374 UARDA. 
 
 This one had broader shoulders than his companions, 
 and his burden weighed on him comparatively lightly. 
 
 " In this solitude," thought he, " which repels man, and 
 forbids his passing his life here, the Chennu, the laborers 
 who form the world, have spared themselves the trouble 
 of filling up the seams, and rounding off the corners. 
 How is it that men should have dedicated this hideous 
 land — in which even human heart seems to be hardened 
 against all piety — to the merciful Hathor ? Perhaps because 
 it so sorely stands in need of joy and peace which the 
 loving goddess alone can bestow." 
 
 "Keep the line, Huni ! " shouted a driver. 
 
 The man thus addressed closed up to the next man, 
 the panting leech Nebsecht. We know the other stronger 
 prisoner. It is Pentaur, who had been entered as Huni on 
 the Hsts of mine-laborers, and was called by that name. 
 The file moved on ; at every step the ascent grew more 
 rugged. Red and black fragments of stone, broken as 
 small as if by the hand of man, lay in great heaps, or 
 strewed the path which led up the almost perpendicular 
 cliff by imperceptible degrees. Here another gorge opened 
 before them, and this time there seemed to be no outlet. 
 
 **Load the asses less ! " cried the captain of the escort 
 to the prisoners. Then he turned to the soldiers, and 
 ordered them, when the beasts were eased, to put the 
 extra burdens on the men. Putting forth their utmost 
 strength, the overloaded men labored up the steep and 
 hardly distinguishable mountain path. 
 
 The man in front of Pentaur, a lean old man, when half 
 way up the hill-side, fell in a heap under his load, and a 
 driver, who in the narrow defile could not reach the bear- 
 ers, threw a stone at him to urge him to a renewed effort. 
 
 The old man cried out at the blow, and at the cry — the 
 paraschites stricken down with stones — his own struggle 
 with the mob — and the appearance of Bent-Anat flashed 
 into Pentaur's memory. Pity and a sense of his own 
 healthy vigor prompted him to energy ; he hastily snatched 
 the sack from the shoulders of the old man, threw it over 
 his own, helped up the fallen wretch, and finally men and 
 beasts succeeded in mounting the rocky wall. 
 
 The pulses throbbed in Pentaur's temples, and he shud- 
 dered with horror as he looked down from the height oi 
 
UARDA. 375 
 
 the pass into the abyss below, and round upon the count- 
 less pinnacles and peaks, cliffs and precipices, in many 
 colored rocks — white and gray, sulphurous yellow, blood- 
 red and ominous black. He recalled the sacred lake of 
 Muth in Thebes, round which sat a hundred statues of the 
 lion-headed goddess in black, each on a pedestal ; and the 
 rocky peaks, which surrounded the valley at his feet, 
 seemed to put on a semblance of life and to move and open 
 their yawning jaws ; through the wild rush of blood in his 
 ears he fancied he heard them roar, and the load beyond 
 his strength which he carried gave him a sensation as 
 though their clutch was on his breast. 
 
 Nevertheless he reached the goal. 
 
 The other prisoners flung their loads from their shoul- 
 ders, and threw themselves down to rest. Mechanically 
 he did the same ; his pulses beat more calmly, by degrees 
 the visions faded from his senses, he saw and heard once 
 more, and his brain recovered its balance. The old man 
 and Nebsecht were lying beside him. 
 
 His gray-haired companion rubbed the swollen veins in 
 his neck, and called down all the blessings of the gods 
 upon his head ; but the captain of the caravan cut him 
 short, exclaiming : 
 
 *' You have strength for three, Huni ; further on, we will 
 load you more heavily." 
 
 "How much the kindly gods care for our prayers for 
 the blessings of others ! " exclaimed Nebsecht. " How 
 well they know how to reward a good action ! " 
 
 " I am rewarded enough," said Pentaur, looking kindly 
 at the old man. " But you, you everlasting scoffer — you 
 look pale. How do you feel ? " 
 
 "As if I were one of those donkeys there," replied the 
 naturalist. "My knees shake like theirs, and I think and 
 I wish neither more nor less than they do ; that is to say 
 — I would we were in our stalls. " 
 
 "If you can think," said Pentaur, smiling, "you are 
 not so very bad. " 
 
 " I had a good thought just now, when you were star- 
 ing up into the sky. The intellect, says the priestly sages, 
 is a vivifying breath of the eternal spirit, and our soul is 
 the mold or core for the mass of matter which we call a 
 human being. I sought the spirit at first in the heart, 
 
376 UARDA. 
 
 then in the brain ; but now I know that it resides in the 
 arms and legs, for when I have strained them I find 
 thought is impossible. I am too tired to enter on further 
 evidence, but for the future I shall treat my legs with the 
 utmost consideration." 
 
 "Quarreling again you two? On again, men ! " cried 
 the driver. 
 
 The weary wretches rose slowly, the beasts were loaded, 
 and on went the pitiable procession, so as to reach the 
 mines before sunset. 
 
 The destination of the travelers was a wide valley, 
 closed in by two high and rocky mountain-slopes ; it was 
 called Ta Mafka by the Egyptians, Dophka by the He- 
 brews. The southern cliff-wall consisted of dark granite, 
 the northern of red sandstone ; in a distant branch of the 
 valley lay the mines in which copper was found. In the 
 midst of the valley rose a hill surrounded by a wall, and 
 crowned with small stone houses, for the guard, the 
 officers, and the overseers. According to the old regula- 
 tions, they were without roofs, but as many deaths and 
 much sickness had occurred among the workmen in con- 
 sequence of the cold nights, they had been slightly shel- 
 tered with palm-branches brought from the oasis of the 
 Amalekites, at no great distance. 
 
 On the uttermost peak of the hill, where it was most 
 exposed to the wind, were the smelting furnaces, and a 
 manufactory where a peculiar green glass was prepared, 
 which was brought into the market under the name of 
 Mafkat, that is to say, emerald. The genuine precious 
 stone was found further to the south, on the western shore 
 of the Red Sea, and was highly prized in Egypt. 
 
 Our friends had already for more than a month belonged 
 to the mining community of the Mafkat valley, and Pen- 
 taur had never learned how it was that he had been 
 brought hither with his companion Nebsecht, instead of 
 going to the sandstone quarries of Chennu. 
 
 That Uarda's father had effected this change was beyond 
 a doubt, and the poet trusted the rough but honest sol- 
 dier who still kept near him, and gave him credit for the 
 best intentions, although he had only spoken to him once 
 since their departure from Thebes. 
 
 That was the first night, vi^hen he had come up to Pen- 
 
UARDA. 377 
 
 taur, and whispered : "I am looking after you. You will 
 find the physician Nebsecht here ; but treat each other as 
 enemies rather than as friends, if you do not wish to be 
 parted." 
 
 Pentaur had communicated the soldier's advice to Neb- 
 secht, and he had followed it in his own way. 
 
 It afforded him a secret pleasure to see how Pentaur's 
 life contradicted the belief in a just and beneficent order- 
 ing of the destinies of men ; and the more he and the poet 
 were oppressed, the more bitter was the irony, often 
 amounting to extravagance, with which the mocking 
 skeptic attacked him. 
 
 He loved Pentaur, for the poet had in his keeping the 
 key which alone could give admission to the beautiful 
 world which lay locked up in his own soul ; but yet it wa.a 
 easy to him, if he thought they were observed, to play his 
 part, and to overwhelm Pentaur with words, which, to the 
 drivers, were devoid of meaning, and which made them 
 laugh by the strange blundering fashion in which he stam- 
 mered them out. 
 
 *'A belabored husk of the divine self-consciousness." 
 "An advocate of righteousness hit on the mouth." "A 
 juggler who makes as much of this worst of all possible 
 worlds as if he were the best. " * ' An admirer of the lovely 
 color of his blue bruises. " These and other terms of in- 
 vective, intelligible only to himself and his butt, he could 
 always pour out in new combinations, exciting Pentaur to 
 sharp and often witty rejoinders, equally unintelligible to 
 the uninitiated. 
 
 Frequently their sparring took the form of a serious dis- 
 cussion, which served a double purpose ; first their minds, 
 accustomed to serious thought, found exercise in spite of 
 the murderous pressure of the burden of forced labor ; and 
 secondly, they were supposed really to be enemies. They 
 slept in the same courtyard, and contrived, now and then, 
 to exchange a few words in secret ; but by day Nebsecht 
 worked in the turquoise diggings, and Pentaur in the 
 mines, for the careful chipping of the precious stones from 
 their stony matrix was the work best suited to the slight 
 physician, while Pentaur's giant strength was fitted for 
 hewing the ore out of the hard rock. The drivers often 
 
378 UARDA. 
 
 looked in surprise at his powerful strokes, as he flung his 
 pick against the stone. 
 
 The stupendous images that in such moments of wild 
 energy rose before the poet's soul, the fearful or enchant- 
 ing tones that rang in his spirit's ear — none could guess at. 
 
 Usually his excited fancy showed him the form of Bent- 
 Anat, surrounded by a host of men — and these he seemed 
 to fell to the earth, one by one, as he hewed the rock. Often 
 in the middle of his work he would stop, throw down his 
 pick-ax, and spread out his arms — but only to drop them 
 with a deep groan, and wipe the sweat from his brow. 
 
 The overseers did not know what to think of this power- 
 ful youth, who often was as gentle as a child, and then 
 seemed possessed by that demon to which so many of the 
 convicts fell victims. He had indeed become a riddle to 
 himself; for how was it that he — the gardener's son, brought 
 up in the peaceful temple of Seti — ever since that night by 
 the house of the paraschites had had such a perpetual crav- 
 ing for conflict and struggle ? 
 
 The weary gangs were gone to rest ; a bright fire still 
 blazed in front of the house of the superintendent of the 
 mines, and round it squatted in a circle the overseers and 
 the subalterns of the troops. 
 
 ''Put the wine-jar round again," said the captain, ** for 
 we must hold grave council. Yesterday I had orders from 
 the regent to send half the guard to Pelusium. He 
 requires soldiers, but we are so few in number that if the 
 convicts knew it they might make short work of us, even 
 without arms. There are stones enough hereabouts, and 
 by day they have their hammer and chisel. * Things are 
 worse among the Hebrews in the copper mines ; they are a 
 refractory crew that must be held tight. You know me 
 well, fear is unknown to me — but I feel great anxiety. 
 The last fuel is now burning in this fire, and the smelting 
 furnaces and the glass foundry must not stand idle. To- 
 morrow we must send men to Raphidim to obtain charcoal 
 from the Amalekites. They owe us a hundred loads 
 still. Load the prisoners with some copper, to make them 
 tired and the natives civil. What can we do to procure 
 what we want, and yet not to weaken the forces here too 
 ?nuch ? " 
 
 * The chisels were in the shape of swallow-tails, 
 
UARDA. 379 
 
 Various opinions were given, and at last it was settled 
 that a small division, guarded by a few soldiers, should 
 be sent out every day to supply only the daily need for 
 charcoal. 
 
 It was suggested that the most dangerous of the con- 
 victs should be fettered together in pairs to perform their 
 duties. 
 
 The superintendent was of opinion that two strong men 
 fettered together would be more to be feared if only they 
 acted in concert. 
 
 "Then chain a strong one to a weak one," said the 
 chief accountant of the mines, whom the Egyptians called 
 the "scribe of the metals." "And fetter those together 
 who are enemies. " 
 
 " The colossal Huni, for instance, to that puny sparrow, 
 the stuttering Nebsecht," said a subaltern. 
 
 "I was thinking of that very couple," said the account- 
 ant, laughing. 
 
 Three other couples were selected, at first with some 
 laughter, but finally with serious consideration, and 
 Uarda's father was sent with the drivers as an escort. 
 
 On the following morning Pentaur and Nebsecht were 
 fettered together with a copper chain, and when the sun 
 was at its height four pairs of prisoners, heavily loaded 
 with copper, set out for the oasis of the Amalekites, accom- 
 panied by six soldiers and the son of the paraschites, to 
 fetch fuel for the smelting furnaces. 
 
 They rested near the town of Alus, and then went for- 
 ward again between bare walls of grayish-green and red 
 porphyry. These cliffs rose higher and higher, but from 
 time to time, above the lower range, they could see the 
 rugged summit of some giant of the range, though^ 
 bowed under their heavy loads, they paid small heed to it, 
 
 The sun was near setting when they reached the little 
 sanctuary of the " Emerald-Hathor." 
 
 A few gray and black birds here flew toward them, and 
 f entaur gazed at thern with delight. 
 
 How long he hati missed the sight of a bird, and the 
 sound of their chirp, and song ! Nebsecht said : "There 
 are some birds— we must be near water." 
 
 And there stood the first palm-tree ! 
 
 Nq\y the murmur of a brook was perceptible, and its 
 
380 UARDA. 
 
 tiny sound touched the thirsty souls of the travelers as 
 rain falls on dry grass. 
 
 On the left bank of the stream an encampment of Egyp- 
 tian soldiers formed a large semicircle, inclosing three 
 large tents made of costly material striped with blue and 
 white, and woven with gold thread. Nothing was to be 
 seen of the inhabitants of these tents, but when the 
 prisoners had passed them, and the drivers were ex- 
 changing greetings with the outposts, a girl in the long 
 robe of an Egyptian came toward them, and looked at 
 them. 
 
 Pentaur started as if he had seen a ghost ; but Nebsecht 
 gave expression to his astonishment in a loud cry. 
 
 At the same instant a driver laid his whip across their 
 shoulders, and cried, laughing : 
 
 * ' You may hit each other as hard as you like with words, 
 but not with your hands." 
 
 Then he turned to his companions, and said : '' Did you 
 see the pretty girl there, in front of the tent ? " 
 
 *'It is nothing to us ! " answered the man he addressed. 
 
 " She belongs to the princess' train. She has been three 
 weeks here on a visit to the holy shrine of Hathor." 
 
 ''She must have committed some heavy sin," replied 
 the other. "If she were one of us, she would have been 
 set to sift sand in the diggings, or grind colors, and 
 not be living here in a gilt tent. Where is our red- 
 beard } " 
 
 Uarda's father had lingered a little behind the party, 
 for the girl had signed to him, and exchanged a few words 
 with him. 
 
 "Have you still an eye for the fair oiaes?" asked the 
 youngest of the drivers when he rejoined the gang. 
 
 "She is a waiting-maid of the princess," replied the 
 soldier, not without embarrassment. " To-morrow morn- 
 ing we are to carry a letter from her to the scribe of the 
 mines, and if we encamp in the neighorhoodshe will send 
 us some wine for carrying it." 
 
 "The old red-beard scents wine as a fox scents a goose. 
 Let us encamp here ; one never knows what may be had 
 among the Mentu, and the superintendent said we were to 
 encamp outside the oasis. Put down your sacks, men. 
 Here there is fresh water, and perhaps a few dates and 
 
UARDA. 381 
 
 sweet Manna * for you to eat with it. But keep the peace, 
 you two quarrelsome fellows — Huni and Nebsecht." 
 
 Bent-Anat's journey to the Emerald-Hathor was long 
 since ended. As far as Keft she had sailed down the Nile 
 with her escort, from thence she had crossed the desert by 
 easy marches, and she had been obliged to wait a full week 
 in the port on the Red Sea, which was chiefly inhabited by 
 Phoenicians, for a ship which had finally brought her to 
 the little seaport of Pharan. From Pharan she had crossed 
 the mountains to the oasis, where the sanctuary she was to 
 visit stood on the northern side. 
 
 The old priests, who conducted the service of the god- 
 dess, had received the daughter of Rameses with respect, 
 and undertook to restore her to cleanness by degrees 
 with the help of the water from the mountain stream which 
 watered the palm grove of the Amalekites, of incense burn- 
 ing, of pious sentences, and of a hundred other ceremonies. 
 At last the goddess declared herself satisfied, and Bent- 
 Anat wished to start for the north and join her father, but 
 the commander of the escort, a gray-headed Ethiopian field 
 officer — who had been promoted to a high grade by Ani 
 — explained to the chamberlain that he had orders to detain 
 the princess in the oasis until her departure was author- 
 ized by the regent himself. 
 
 Bent-Anat now hoped for the support of her father, for 
 her brother Rameri, if no accident had occurred to him, 
 might arrive any day. But in vain. 
 
 The position of the ladies was particularly unpleasant, 
 for they felt that they had been caught in a trap, and were 
 in fact prisoners. In addition to this their Ethiopian 
 escort had quarreled with the natives of the oasis, and 
 every day skirmishes took place under their eyes — indeed 
 lately one of these fights had ended in bloodshed. 
 
 Bent-Anat was sick at heart. The two strong pinions 
 of her soul, which had always borne her so high above 
 other women — her princely pride and her bright frank- 
 ness — seemed quite broken ; she felt that she had loved 
 once, never to love again, and that she, who had sought 
 
 * " Man " is the name still given by the Bedouins of Sinai to the sweet 
 gum which exudes from the Tamarix mannifera. It is the result of the 
 puncture of an insect, and occurs chiefly in May. By many it is supposed 
 to be the Manna of the Bible. 
 
382 UARDA. 
 
 none of her happiness in dreams, but all in work, had 
 bestowed the best half of her identity on a vision. Pen- 
 taur's image took a more and more vivid, and at the same 
 time nobler and loftier, aspect in her mind ; but he him- 
 self had died for her, for only once had a letter reached 
 them from Egypt, and that was from Katuti to Nefert. 
 After telling her that late intelligence established the 
 statement that her husband had taken a princes daughter, 
 who had been made prisoner, to his tent as his share of 
 the booty, she added the information that the poet Pen- 
 taur, who had been condemned to forced labor, had not 
 reached the mountain mines, but, as was supposed, had 
 perished on the road. 
 
 Nefert still held to her immovable belief that her hus« 
 band was faithful to his love for her, and the magic charm 
 of a nature made beautiful by its perfect mastery over a 
 deep and pure passion made itself felt in these sad and 
 heavy days. 
 
 It seemed as though she had changed parts with Bent- 
 Anat. Always hopeful, every day she foretold help from 
 the king for the next ; in truth she was ready to believe 
 that, when Mena learned from Rameri that she was with 
 the princess, he himself would come to fetch them if his 
 duties allowed it. In her hours of most lively expectation 
 she could go so far as to picture how the party in the tents 
 would be divided, and who would bear Bent-Anat com- 
 pany if Mena took her with him to his camp, on what 
 spot of the oasis it would be best to pitch it, and much 
 more in the same vein. 
 
 Uarda could very well take her place with Bent-Anat, 
 for the child had developed and improved on the journey. 
 The rich clothes which the princess had given her became 
 her as if she had never worn any others ; she could obey 
 discreetly, disappear at the right moment, and, when she 
 was invited, chatter delightfully. Her laugh was silvery, 
 and nothing consoled Bent-Anat so much as to hear it. 
 
 Her songs too pleased the two friends, though the few 
 that she knew were grave and sorrowful. She had learned 
 them by listening to old Hekt, who often used to play on 
 a lute in the dusk, and who, when she perceived that 
 Uarda caught the melodies, had pointed out her faults, 
 and given her advice. 
 
UARDA. 383 
 
 "She may some day come into my hands," thought the 
 witch, ''and the better she sings, the better she will be 
 paid." 
 
 Bent-Anat too, tried to teach Uarda, but learning to 
 read was not easy to the girl, however much pains she 
 might take. Nevertheless, the princess would not give up 
 the spelling, for here, at the foot of the immense sacred 
 mountain at whose summit she gazed with mixed horror 
 and longing, she was condemned to inactivity, which 
 weighed the more heavily on her in proportion as those 
 feelings had to be kept to herself which she longed to es- 
 cape from in work. Uarda knew the origin of her mistress' 
 deep grief and revered her for it, as if it were something 
 sacred. Often she would speak of Pentaur and of his 
 father, and always in such a manner that the princess 
 could not guess that she knew of their love. 
 
 When the prisoners were passing Bent-Anat's tent, she 
 was sitting within with Nefert, and talking, as had become 
 habitual in the hours of dusk, of her father, of Mena, 
 Rameri, and Pentaur. 
 
 " He is still alive," asserted Nefert. ** My mother, you 
 see, says that no one knows with certainty what became 
 of him. If he escaped, he beyond a doubt tried to reach 
 the king's camp, and when we get there you will find him 
 with your father. " 
 
 The princess looked sadly at the ground. 
 
 Nefert looked affectionately at her, and asked : 
 
 ** Are you thinking of the difference in rank which parts 
 you from the man you have chosen ? " 
 
 ''The man to whom I offer my hand, I put in the rank 
 of a prince," said Bent-Anat. " But if I could set Pentaur 
 on a throne, as master of the world, he would still be 
 greater and better than I." 
 
 "But your father.? " asked Nefert, doubtfully. 
 
 "He is my friend, he will listen to me and understand 
 me. He shall know everything when I see him ; I know 
 his noble and loving heart." 
 
 Both were silent for some time ; then Bent-Anat spoke : 
 
 " Pray have lights brought, I want to finish my weav- 
 ing." 
 
 Nefert rose, went to the door of the tent, and there met 
 
384 UARDA. 
 
 Uarda ; she seized Nefert's hand, and silently drew hsr 
 out into the air. 
 
 ' ' What is the matter, child ? you are trembling, " Nefert 
 exclaimed. 
 
 "My father is here," answered Uarda, hastily. " He is 
 escorting some prisoners from the mines of Mafkat. 
 Among them there are two chained together, and one of 
 them — do not be startled — one of them is the poet Pentaur. 
 Stop, for God's sake, stop, and hear me. Twice before I 
 have seen my father when he has been here with convicts. 
 To-day we must rescue Pentaur ; but the princess must 
 know nothing of it, for if my plan fails " 
 
 "Child ! girl ! " interrupted Nefert, eagerly. " How can 
 I help you ? " 
 
 "Order the steward to give the drivers of the gang a 
 skin of wine in the name of the princess, and out of Bent- 
 Anat's case of medicines take the phial which contains 
 the sleeping draught, which, in spite of your wish, she 
 will not take. I will wait here, and I know how to use 
 it." 
 
 Nefert immediately found the steward, and ordered him 
 to follow Uarda with a skin of wine. Then she went 
 back to the princess' tent, and opened the medicine-case. 
 
 "What do you want?" asked Bent-Anat. 
 
 "A remedy for palpitation," replied Nefert ; she quietly 
 took the flask she needed, and in a few minutes put it 
 into Uarda's hand. 
 
 The girl asked the steward to open the wine-skin, and 
 let her taste the liquor. While she pretended to drink it, 
 she poured the whole contents of the phial into the wine, 
 and then let Bent-Anat's bountiful present be carried to the 
 thirsty drivers. 
 
 She herself went toward the kitchen tent, and found a 
 young Amalekite sitting on the ground with the prin- 
 cess' servants. He sprang up as soon as he saw the 
 damsel. 
 
 ' ' I have brought four fine partridges, "* he said, * ' which 
 
 *A brook springs on the peak called by the Sinaitic monks Mt. St. 
 Katharine, which is called the partridges' spring, and of which manv 
 legends are told. For instance, God created it for the partridges whicn 
 accompanied the angels who carried St. Katharine of Alexandria to h 
 tomb on Sinai. 
 
 
UARDA. 385 
 
 I snared myself, and I have brought this turquoise for you 
 — my brother found it in a rock. This stone brings good 
 luck, and is good for the eyes ; it gives victory over our 
 enemies, and keeps away bad dreams."* 
 
 "Thank you ! " said Uarda, and taking the boy's hand 
 as he gave her the sky-blue stone, she led him forward into 
 the dusk. 
 
 "Listen, Salich ! " she said, softly, as soon as she 
 thought they were far enough from the others. "You 
 are a good boy, and the maids told me that you said I was 
 a star that had come down from the sky to become a 
 woman. No one says such a thing as that of any one 
 they do not like very much ; and I know you like me, for 
 you show me that you do every day by bringing me flow- 
 ers, when you carry the game that your father gets to the 
 steward. Tell me, will you do me and the princess too a 
 very great service ? Yes.? — and willingly ? Yes? I knew 
 you would ! Now listen. A friend of the great lady 
 Bent-Anat, who will come here to-night, must be hidden for 
 a day, perhaps several days, from his pursuers. Can he, 
 or rather can they, for there will probably be two, find 
 shelter and protection in your father's house, which lies 
 high-up there on the sacred mountain ? " 
 
 "Whoever I take to my father," said the boy, " will be 
 made welcome ; and we divide what we have, first for our 
 guests, and for ourselves after. Where are the strangers ? " 
 
 "They will arrive in a few hours. Will you wait here 
 till the moon is well up ? " 
 
 "Till the last of all the thousand moons that vanish 
 behind the hills is set." 
 
 "Well, then, wait on the other side of the stream, and 
 conduct the man to your house, who repeats my name 
 three times. You know my name ? " 
 
 "I call you Silver-star, but the others call you Uarda." 
 
 "Lead the strangers to your hut, and, if they are re- 
 ceived there by your father, come back and tell me. I 
 will watch for you here at the door of the tent. I am poor, 
 alas ! and cannot reward you, but the princess will thank 
 your father as a princess should. Be watchful, Salich ! " 
 
 * The turquoises of Serbal are finer and bluer than those of Wadi 
 Maghara. The Arabs to this day believe in the happy influences of the 
 turquoise. 
 
 25 
 
386 UARDA. 
 
 The girl vanished, and went to the drivers of the gfang; 
 of prisoners, wished them a merry and pleasant evening, 
 then hastened back to Bent-Anat, who anxiously stroked 
 her abundant hair, and asked her why she was so pale. 
 
 " Lie down," said the princess, kindly, *' you are fever- 
 ish. Only look, Nefert, I can see the blood coursing 
 through the blue veins in her forehead. " 
 
 Meanwhile the drivers drank, praised the royal wine* 
 and the lucky day on which they drank it ; and when 
 Uarda's father suggested that the prisoners too should 
 have a mouthful, one of his fellow-soldiers cried : '* Ay, let 
 the poor beasts be jolly for once." 
 
 The red-beard filled a large beaker, and offered it first 
 to a forger and his fettered companion, then he approached 
 Pentaur, and whispered ; 
 
 " Do not drink any — keep away I " 
 
 As he was going to warn the physican too, one of his 
 companions came between them, and offering his tankard 
 to Nebsecht, said : 
 
 ** Here, mumbler, drink ; see him pull I His stuttering 
 mouth is spry enough for drinking 1 " 
 
 I regard the peak now known as Serbal as the Sinai of the Scriptures, 
 and not that called Sinai by the monks. The stream or torrent by 
 which the sanctuary of the Mafkat-Hathor stood flows down the valley 
 of Feiran. The princess' journey led her across the desert from Qeft 
 on the Nile to the seaport subsequently named Berenike, thence by ship 
 to the fishing town of Pharan, and through the mountain range to the 
 valley into which that of Feiran opens, and which further on forks, and 
 encloses the hill of Meharrat. I have iuWy discussed the geography, 
 history, and sacred places of the Sinaitic peninsula in my work entitled, 
 '* Durch Gosen zum Sinai." I have described the scene of this part of 
 my story from life, and none who have once seen that wondrous mount- 
 ain and desert range can ever forget it. Pentaur's march was from the 
 present Abu Selimeh, on the Sinaitic coast of the Red Sea — where the 
 ancient road from the mines seems to have come down to the shore — 
 through the valley still called Baba, as it was in the time of the Pharaohs 
 across the mountain pass of Naqb el Buddrah, where the old path was 
 some years since retraced and restored by Major Macdonald. The 
 mines which were discovered by Palmer and Wilson lay in the little Wadi 
 Umm Themaim ; the larger valley, where the factory was situated, of 
 which the remains still exist, is the Wadi Maghara. Raphidim is the 
 oasis at the foot of Mt. Horeb southward from the mines. Alus is 
 mentioned by Numeri. 
 
 The Arabs of the Sinaitic peninsula still prepare large quantities of 
 charcoal from the Mimosa Sajal^ and sell it at Cairo. 
 
 It may be added that the name of Abocharabos is genuine, for Proco* 
 
UARDA. 387 
 
 J, CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 The hours passed gayly with the drinkers, then they 
 grew more and more sleepy. 
 
 Still the moon was high in the heavens before they 
 slept, with the exception of Kaschta and Pentaur. 
 
 The soldier rose softly, listened to the breathing of his 
 companions, then he approached the poet, unfastened the 
 ring which fettered his ankle to that of Nebsecht, and 
 endeavored to wake the physician, but in vain. 
 
 ''Follow me 1 " cried he to the poet ; he took Nebsecht 
 on his shoulders, and went toward the spot near the stream 
 which Uarda had indicated. Three times he called his 
 daughter's name, the young Amalekite appeared, and the 
 soldier said, decidedly: '* Follow this man, I will take 
 care of Nebsecht. *' 
 
 "I will not leave him," said Pentaur. " Perhaps water 
 will wake him. " 
 
 They plunged him in the brook, which half woke him, 
 and by the help of his companions, who now pushed and 
 now dragged him, he staggered and stumbled up the 
 rugged mountain path, and before midnight they reached 
 their destination, the hut of the Amalekite. 
 
 The old hunter was asleep, but his son aroused him, and 
 told him what Uarda had ordered and promised. 
 
 But no promises were needed to incite the worthy 
 mountaineer to hospitality. He received the poet with 
 genuine friendliness, laid the sleeping leech on a mat, pre- 
 pared a couch for Pentaur of leaves and skins, called his 
 
 plus says that Abocharagos (which Tuch has corrected to Abocharabos) 
 gave to Justinian the palm-grove in the Peninsula of Sinai. The inhabit- 
 ants of this country, called Mentu by the Egyptians, were in early times 
 Sebeans, that is worshipers of the heavenly bodies. We learn this with, 
 certainty from the inscriptions deciphered by Beer, where the authors of 
 the records call themselves "servants," "fearers," or "priests " of the 
 Sun, of Baal, etc. The Sun-god was called Dusare. The earliest ot 
 ihese Inscriptions dates from the second century B. C. 
 
388 UARDA. 
 
 daughter to wash his feet, and offered him his own 
 holiday garment in the place of the rags that covered his 
 body. 
 
 Pentaur stretched himself out on the humble couch, 
 which to him seemed softer than the silken bed of a queen, 
 but on which nevertheless he could not sleep, for the 
 thoughts and fancies that filled his heart were too over- 
 powering and bewildering. 
 
 The stars still sparkled in the heavens when he sprang 
 from his bed of skins, lifted Nebsecht on to it, and rushed 
 out into the open air. A fresh mountain spring flowed 
 close to the hunter's hut. He went to it, and bathed his 
 face in the ice-cold water, and let it flow over his body and 
 limbs. He felt as if he must cleanse himself to his very 
 soul, not only from the dust of many weeks, but from the 
 rebellion and despondency, the ignominy and bitterness, 
 and the contact with vice and degradation. 
 
 When at last he left the spring, and returned to the little 
 house, he felt clean and fresh as on the morning of a feast- 
 day at the temple of Seti, when he had bathed and dressed 
 himself in robes of snow-white linen. He took the hunt- 
 er's holiday dress, put it on, and went out of doors again. 
 
 The enormous masses of rock lay dimly before him, like 
 storm-clouds, and over his head spread the blue heavens 
 with their thousand stars. 
 
 The soothing sense of freedom and purity raised his 
 soul, and the air that he breathed was so fresh and light 
 that he sprang up the path to the summit of the peak as 
 if he were borne on wings or carried by invisible hands. 
 
 A mountain goat which met him, turned from him, and 
 fled bleating, with his mate, to a steep peak of rock, but 
 Pentaur said to the frightened beasts : 
 
 *' I shall do nothing to you — not I." 
 
 He paused on a little plateau at the foot of the jagged 
 granite peak of the mountain. Here again he heard the 
 murmur of a spring, the grass under his feet was damp, 
 and covered with a film of ice, in which were mirrored the 
 stars, now gradually fading. He looked up at the lights 
 in the sky, those never-tarrying, and yet motionless wan- 
 derers—away, to the mountain heights around him — down, 
 into the gorge below — and far off, into the distance. 
 
 The dusk slowly grew into light, the mysterious forms of 
 
UARDA. 389 
 
 the mountain-chain took shape and stood up with their 
 shining points, the light clouds were swept away like 
 smoke. Thin vapors rose from the oasis and the other 
 valleys at his feet, at first in heavy masses, then they 
 parted and were wafted, as if in sport, above and beyond 
 him to the sky. Far below him soared a large eagle, the 
 only living creature far or near. 
 
 A solemn and utter silence surrounded him, and when 
 the eagle swooped down and vanished from his sight, and 
 the mist rolled lower into the valley, he felt that here, 
 alone, he was high above all other living beings, and 
 standing nearer to the divinity. 
 
 He drew his breath fully and deeply, he felt as he had 
 felt in the first hours after his initiation, when for the first 
 time he was admitted to the holy of holies — and yet quite 
 different. 
 
 Instead of the atmosphere loaded with incense, he 
 breathed a light pure air ; and the deep stillness of the 
 mountain solitude possessed his soul more strongly than 
 the chant of the priests. 
 
 Here, it seemed to him, that the Divine Being would 
 hear the lightest murmur of his lips, though indeed his 
 heart was so full of gratitude and devotion that his im- 
 pulse was to give expression to his mighty flow of feelings 
 in jubilant song. But his tongue seemed tied ; he knelt 
 down in silence, to pray and to praise. 
 
 Then he looked at the panorama around him. 
 
 Where was the east which in Egypt was clearly defined 
 by the long Nile range ? Down there where it was begin- 
 ning to be light over the oasis. To his right hand lay the 
 south, the sacred birthplace of the Nile, the home of the 
 gods of the cataracts ; but here flowed no mighty stream, 
 and where was there a shrine for the visible manifestation 
 of Osiris and Isis ; of Horus, born of a lotus flower in a 
 thicket of papyrus ; of Rennut, the goddess of blessings, 
 and of Zefa ? To which of them could he here lift his hand 
 in prayer ? 
 
 A faint breeze swept by, the mist vanished like a rest- 
 less shade at the word of the exorcist, the many-pointed 
 crown of Sinai stood out in sharp relief, and below them 
 the winding valleys, and the dark-colored rippling surface 
 of the lake, became distinctly visible. 
 
39© UARDA. 
 
 All was silent, all untouched by the hand of man, yet 
 harmonized to one great and glorious whole, subject to 
 all the laws, of the universe, pervaded and filled by the 
 Divinity. 
 
 He would fain have raised his hand in thanksgiving to 
 Apheru, " the guide on the way : " but he dared not ; and 
 how infinitely small did the gods now seem to him, the 
 gods he had so often glorified to the multitude in inspired 
 words, the gods that had no meaning, no dwelling-place, 
 no dominion but by the Nile. 
 
 "To ye," he murmured, " I cannot pray ! Here where 
 my eye can pierce the distance, as if I myself were a god 
 — here I feel the presence of the One, here He is near me 
 and with me — I will call upon Him and praise Him ! " 
 
 And throwing up his arms he cried aloud : ** Thou only 
 One ! Thou only One ! Thou only One ! " He said no 
 more ; but a tide of song welled up in his breast as he 
 spoke — a flood of thankfulness and praise. 
 
 When he rose from his knees, a man was standing by 
 him ; his eyes were piercing and his tall figure had the 
 dignity of a king, in spite of his herdsman's dress. 
 
 **Itis well for you!" said the stranger, in deep slow 
 accents. ** You seek the true God." 
 
 Pentaur looked steadily into the face of the bearded man 
 before him. 
 
 * ' I know you now, " he said. ' ' You are Mesu. * I was 
 but a boy when you left the temple of Seti, but your feat- 
 ures are stamped on my soul. Ameni initiated me, as 
 well as you, into the knowledge of the One God. " 
 
 "He knows Him not," answered the other, looking 
 thoughtfully to the eastern horizon, which every moment 
 grew brighter. 
 
 The heavens glowed with purple, and the granite peaks, 
 each sheathed in a film of ice, sparkled and shone like 
 dark diamonds that had been dipped in light. 
 
 The day-star rose, and Pentaur turned to it, and pros- 
 trated himself as his custom was. When he rose Mesu 
 also was kneeling on the earth, but his back was turned 
 to the sun. 
 
 When he had ended his prayers Pentaur said : ''Why 
 
 * Moses. 
 
UARDA. 
 
 39« 
 
 do you turn your back on the manifestation of the Sun- 
 god? We were taught to look toward him when he ap- 
 proaches." 
 
 *' Because I," said his grave companion, ''pray to 
 another God than yours. The sun and stars are but as 
 toys in His hand, the earth is His footstool, the storm is 
 His breath, and the sea is in His sight as the drops on the 
 grass. " 
 
 "Teach me to know the Mighty One whom you wor- 
 ship ! " exclaimed Pentaur. 
 
 '' Seek Him," said Mesu, " and you will find Him ; for 
 you have passed through misery and suffering, and on 
 this spot on such a morning as this was He revealed to 
 me." 
 
 The stranger turned away and disappeared behind a 
 rock from the inquiring gaze of Pentaur, who fixed his eyes 
 on the distance. 
 
 Then he thoughtfully descended the valley and went 
 toward the hut of the hunter. He stayed his steps when 
 he heard men's voices, but the rocks hid the speakers 
 from his sight. 
 
 Presently he saw the party approaching ; the son of his 
 host, a man in Egyptian dress, a lady of tall stature, near 
 whom a girl tripped lightly, and another carried in a litter 
 by slaves. 
 
 Pentaur's heart beat wildly, for he recognized Bent-Anat 
 and her companions. They disappeared by the hunter's 
 cottage, but he stood still, breathing painfully, spell-bound 
 to the cliff" by which he stood — a long, long time — and did 
 not stir. 
 
 He did not hear a light step that came near to him and 
 died away again, he did not feel that the sun began to cast 
 fierce beams on him, and on the porphyry cliff behind him 
 he did not see a woman now coming quickly toward him; 
 but, like a deaf man who has suddenly acquired the sense 
 of hearing, he started when he heard his name spoken — by 
 whose lips ? 
 
 ** Pentaur ! " she said again ; the poet opened his arms 
 and Bent-Anat fell upon his breast ; and he held her to 
 him, clasped, as though he must hold her there and never 
 part from her all his life long. 
 
 k 
 
392 UARDA. 
 
 Meanwhile tlie princess* companions were resting by 
 the hunter's little house. 
 
 ''She flew into his arms — I saw it," said Uarda. 
 ''Never shall I forget it. It was as if the bright lake there 
 had risen up to embrace the mountain." 
 
 "Where do you find such fancies, child ? " cried Nefert. 
 
 ' ' In my heart — deep in my heart 1 " cried Uarda. ' ' I am 
 so unspeakably happy." 
 
 "You saved him and rewarded him for his goodness ; 
 you may well be happy." 
 
 "It is not only that," said Uarda. " I was in despair, 
 and now I see that the gods are righteous and loving." 
 
 Mena's wife nodded to her, and said with a sigh : 
 
 " They are both happy ! " 
 
 "And they deserve to be!" exclaimed Uarda. "I 
 fancy the goddess of Truth is like Bent-Anat, and there is 
 not another man in Egypt like Pentaur." 
 
 Nefert was silent for a while ; then she asked softly : 
 " Did you ever see Mena ? " 
 
 "How should I?" replied the girl. "Wait a little 
 while, and your turn will come. I believe that to-day I 
 can read the future like a prophetess. But let us see if 
 Nebsecht lies there, and is still asleep. The draught I put 
 into the wine must have been strong." 
 
 "It was," answered Nefert, following her into the hut. 
 
 The physician was still lying on the bed, and sleeping 
 with his mouth wide open. Uarda knelt down by his side, 
 looked in his face, and said : 
 
 "He is clever and knows everything, but how silly he 
 looks now ! I will wake him." 
 
 She pulled a blade of grass out of the heap on which he 
 was lying, and saucily tickled his nose. 
 
 Nebsecht raised himself, sneezed, but fell back asleep 
 again ; Uarda laughed out with her clear, silvery tones. 
 Then she blushed — "That is not right," she said, " for he 
 is good and generous." 
 
 She took the sleeper's hand, pressed it to her lips, and 
 wiped the drops from his brow. Then he awoke, opened 
 his eyes, and murmured, half in a dream still : 
 
 ' ' Uarda — sweet Uarda. " 
 
 The girl started up and fled, and Nefert followed her. 
 
 When Nebsecht at last got upon his feet and looked 
 
UARDA. 
 
 393 
 
 round him, he found himself alone in a strange house. 
 He went out of doors, where he found Bent-Anat's little 
 train anxiously discussing things past and to come. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVi. 
 
 The inhabitants of the oasis had for centuries been sub- 
 ject to the Pharaohs, and paid them tribute ; and among 
 the rights granted to them in return, no Egyptian soldier 
 might cross their border and territory without their per- 
 mission. 
 
 The Ethiopians had therefore pitched Bent-Anat's tents 
 and their own camp outside these limits ; but various trans- 
 actions soon took place between the idle warriors and the 
 Amalekites, which now and then led to quarrels, and 
 which one evening threatened serious consequences, when 
 some drunken soldiers had annoyed the Amalekite women 
 while they were drawing water. 
 
 This morning early one of the drivers on awaking had 
 missed Pentaur and Nebsecht, and he aroused his com- 
 rades, who had been rejoined by Uarda's father. The en- 
 raged guard of the gang of prisoners hastened to the com- 
 mandant of the Ethiopians, and informed him that two 
 of his prisoners had escaped, and were no doubt being kept 
 in concealment by the Amalekites. 
 
 The Amalekites met the requisition to surrender the 
 fugitives, of whom they knew nothing, with words of 
 mockery, which so enraged the officer that he determined 
 to search the oasis throughout by force, and when he found 
 his emissaries treated with scorn he advanced with the 
 larger part of his troops on to the free territory of the 
 Amalekites. 
 
 The sons of the desert flew to arms ; they retired before 
 the close order of the Egyptian troops, who followed them, 
 confident of. victory, to a point where the valley widens 
 and divides on each side of a rocky hill. Behind this the 
 larger part of the Amalekite forces were lying in ambush, 
 ^nd ^s SQon as the u;^si;spicio\is Ethiopians had marched 
 
394 UARDA. 
 
 past the hill, they threw themselves on the rear of the 
 astonished invaders, while those in front turned upon 
 them, and flung lances and arrows at the soldiers, of whom 
 very few escaped. 
 
 Among them, however, was the commanding officer, 
 who, foaming with rage and only slightly wounded, put 
 himself at the head of the remainder of Bent-Anat's body- 
 guard, ordered the escort of prisoners also to follow him, 
 and once more advanced into the oasis. 
 
 That the princess might escape him had never for an 
 instant occurred to him, but as soon as the last of her 
 keepers had disappeared, Bent-Anat explained to the 
 chamberlain and her companions that now or never was 
 the moment to fly. 
 
 All her people were devoted to her ; they loaded them- 
 selves with the most necessary things for daily use, took 
 the litters and beasts of burden with them, and while the 
 battle W3S raging in the valley, Salich guided them up the 
 heights of Sinai to his father's house. 
 
 It was on the way thither that Uarda had prepared the 
 princess for the meeting she might expect at the hunter s 
 cottage, and we have seen how and where the princess 
 found the poet. 
 
 Hand in hand they wandered together along the mount- 
 ain path till they came to a spot shaded by a projection 
 of the rock ; Pentaur pulled some moss to make a seat, 
 they reclined on it side by side, and there opened their 
 hearts, and told each other of their love and of their suf- 
 ferings, their wanderings and escapes. 
 
 At noonday the hunter's daughter came to offer them a 
 pitcher full of goat's milk, and Bent-Anat filled the gourd 
 again and again for the man she loved; and waiting upon 
 him thus, her heart overflowed with pride, and with the 
 humility of love that made her wish for no greater happi- 
 ness than to spend her life's blood for him. 
 
 Hitherto they had been so absorbed in the present and 
 the past that they had not given a thought to the future, 
 and while they repeated a hundred times what each had 
 long since known, and yet could never tire of hearing, 
 they forgot the immediate danger which was hanging over 
 them. 
 
 After their humble meal, the surging flood of feeling 
 
>' 
 
 UARDA. 
 
 395 
 
 which ever since his morning devotions had overwhelmed 
 the poet's soul grew calmer ; he had felt as if borne 
 through the air, but now he set foot, so to speak, on earth 
 again, and seriously considered with Bent-Anat what steps 
 they must take in the immediate future. 
 
 The light of joy, which beamed in their eyes, was little 
 in accordance with the grave consultation they held, as 
 hand in hand they descended to the hut of their humble host. 
 
 The hunter, guided by his daughter, met them half- 
 w^ay, and with him a tall and dignified man in the full 
 armor of a chief of the Amalekites. 
 
 Both bowed and kissed the earth before Bent-Anat and 
 Pentaur. They had heard that the princess was detained 
 in the oasis by force by the Ethiopian troops, and the 
 desert-prince, Abocharabos, now informed them, not 
 without pride, that the Ethiopian soldiers, all but a few 
 who were his prisoners, had been exterminated by his 
 people ; at the same time he assured Pentaur, whom he 
 supposed to be a son of the king, and Bent-Anat, that he 
 and his were entirely devoted to the Pharaoh Rameses, 
 who had always respected their rights. 
 
 "They are accustomed/' he added, "to fight against 
 the cowardly dogs of Kush ; but we are men, and we can 
 fight like the lions of our wilds. If we are outnumbered 
 we hide like the goats in clefts of the rocks. " 
 
 Bent-Anat, who was pleased with the daring man, his 
 flashing eyes, his aquiline nose, and his brown face which 
 bore the mark of a bloody sword-cut, promised him to 
 commend him and his people to her father's favor, and 
 told him of her desire to proceed as soon as possible to 
 the king's camp under the protection of Pentaur, her 
 future husband. 
 
 The mountain chief had gazed attentively at Pentaur 
 and at Bent-Anat while she spoke ; then he said : 
 
 "Thou, princess, art like the moon, and thy companion 
 is like the Sun-god Dusare. Besides Abocharabos," and 
 he struck his breast, "and his wife, I know no pair that 
 are like you two. I myself will conduct you to Hebron 
 with some of my best men of war. But haste will be 
 necessary, for I must be back before the traitor who now 
 rules over Mizraim,* and who persecutes you, can send 
 
 * The Semitic name for Egypt. 
 
396 UARDA. 
 
 fresh forces against us. Now you can go down again to 
 the tents, not a hen is missing. To-morrow before day- 
 break we will be off." 
 
 At the door of the hut Pentaur was greeted by the prin- 
 cess' companions. 
 
 The chamberlain looked at him not without anxious mis- 
 giving. 
 
 The king, when he departed, had, it is true, given him 
 orders to obey Bent-Anat in every particular, as if she 
 were the queen herself ; but her choice of such a husband 
 was a thing unheard of, and how would the king take it ? 
 
 Nefert rejoiced in the splendid person of the poet, and 
 frequently repeated that he was as like her dead uncle 
 — the father of Paaker, the chief pioneer — as if he were 
 his younger brother. 
 
 Uarda never wearied of contemplating her beloved 
 princess. She no longer looked upon her as a being of a 
 higher order ; but the happiness of the noble pair seemed 
 to her an embodied omen of happiness for Nefert's love — 
 perhaps too for her own. 
 
 Nebsecht kept modestly in the background. The head- 
 ache, from which he had long been suffering, had disap- 
 peared in the fresh mountain air. When Pentaur offered 
 him his hand he exclaimed : 
 
 ** Here is an end to all my jokes and abuse ! A strange 
 thing is this fate of men. Henceforth I shall always have 
 the worst of it in any dispute with you, for all the dis- 
 cords of your life have been very prettily resolved by the 
 great master of harmony, to whom you pray." 
 
 ''You speak almost as if you were sorry ; but everything 
 will turn out happily for you too." 
 
 "Hardly!" replied the surgeon, "for now I see it 
 clearly. Every man is a separate instrument, formed 
 even before his birth, in an occult workshop, of good or 
 bad wood, skillfully or unskillfully made, of this shape or 
 the other; everything in his life, no matter what we call it, 
 plays upon him, and the instrument sounds for good or 
 evil as it is well or ill made. You are an ^olian harp — 
 the sound is delightful, whatever breath of fate may touch 
 it ; I am a weather-cock — I turn whichever way the wind 
 blows, and try to point right, but at the same time I creak, 
 pQ that it hurts my own ears and those of other people. 
 
UARDA. 397 
 
 I am content if now and then a steersman may set his 
 sails rightly by my indication ; though after all it is all the 
 same to me. I will turn round and round, whether others 
 look at me or no. What does it signify? " 
 
 When Pentaurand the princess took leave of the hunter 
 with many gifts the sun was sinking, and the toothed 
 peaks of Sinai glowed like rubies, through which shone 
 the glow of half a world on fire. 
 
 The journey to the royal camp was begun the next 
 morning. Abocharabos, the Amalekite chief, accom- 
 panied the caravan, to which Uarda's father also attached 
 himself ; he had been taken prisoner in the struggle with 
 the natives, but at Bent-Anat s request was set at liberty. 
 
 At their first halting-place he was commanded to explain 
 how he had succeeded in having Pentaur taken to the 
 mines, instead of to the quarries of Chennu. 
 
 "I knew," said the soldier, in his homely way, "from 
 Uarda where this man, who had risked his life for us poor 
 folks, was to be taken, and I said to myself — I must save 
 him. But thinking is not my trade, and I never can lay a 
 plot. It would very likely have come to some violent act, 
 that would have ended badly, if I had not had a hint from 
 another person, even before Uarda told me of what 
 threatened Pentaur. This is how it was : 
 
 **I was to convoy the prisoners, who were condemned 
 to work in the Maflcat mines, across the river to the place 
 they start from. In the harbor of Thebes, on the other 
 side, the poor wretches were to take leave of their friends ; 
 I have seen it a hundred times, and I never can get used 
 to it, and yet one can get hardened to most things ! 
 Their loud cries and wild howls are not the worst — those 
 that scream the most I have always found are the first to 
 get used to their fate ; but the pale ones, whose lips turn 
 white, and whose teeth chatter as if they were freezing, 
 and whose eyes stare out into vacancy without any tears — 
 those go to my heart. There was all the usual misery, 
 both noisy and silent. But the man I was most sorry 
 for was one I had known for a long time ; his name was 
 Huni, and he belonged to the temple of Amon, where he 
 held the place of overseer of the attendants on the 
 sacred goat. I had often met him when I was on duty to 
 
398 UARDA. 
 
 watch the laborers who were completing the great pillared 
 hall, and he was respected by every one, and never 
 failed in his duty. Once, however, he had neglected it ; 
 it was that very nigTit which you all will remember when 
 the wolves broke into the temple, and tore the rams, and 
 the sacred heart was laid in the breast of the prophet 
 Rui. Some one, of course, must be punished, and it 
 fell on poor Huni, who for his carelessness was condemned 
 to forced labor in the mines of Mafkat. His successor 
 will keep a sharp lookout ! No one came to see him off, 
 though I knew he had a wife and several children. He 
 was as pale as this cloth, and was one of the sort whose 
 grief eats into their heart. I went up to him, and asked 
 him why no one came with him. He had taken leave of 
 them at home, he answered, that his children might not 
 see him mixed up with forgers and murderers. Eight 
 poor little brats were left unprovided for with their 
 mother, and a little while before a fire had destroyed 
 everything they possessed. There was not a crumb to 
 stop their little squalling mouths. He did not tell me all 
 this straight out ; a word fell from him now and then, like 
 dates out of a torn sack. I picked it up bit by bit, and 
 when he saw I felt for him he grew fierce and said : ' They 
 may send me to the gold mines or cut me to pieces, as far 
 as I am concerned, but that the little ones should starve 
 that — that,' and he struck his forehead. Then I left him 
 to say good-bye to Uarda, and on the way I kept repeating 
 to myself * that — that' and saw before me the man and his 
 eight brats. If I were rich, thought I, there is a man I 
 would help. When I got to the little one there, she told 
 me how much money the leech Nebsecht had given her, 
 and offered to give it me to save Pentaur ; then it passed 
 through my mind — that may go to Huni's children, and in 
 return he will let himself be shipped off to Ethiopia. I 
 ran to the harbor, spoke to the man, found him ready and 
 willing, gave the money to his wife, and at night when the 
 prisoners were shipped I contrived the exchange. Pen- 
 taur came with me on my boat under the name of the 
 other, and Huni went to the south, and was called Pen- 
 taur. I had not deceived the man into thinking he would 
 stop at Chennu. I told him he would be taken on to 
 Ethiopia, for it is always impossible to play a man false 
 
UARDA. 
 
 399 
 
 when you Know it is quite easy to do it. It is very 
 strange ! It is a real pleasure to cheat a cunning fellow or 
 a sturdy man, but who would take in a child or a sick 
 person? Huni certainly would have gone into the fire- 
 pots of hell without complaining, and he left me quite 
 cheerfully. The rest, and how we got here, you your- 
 selves know. In Syria at this time of year you will suf- 
 fer a good deal from rain. I know the country, for I have 
 escorted many prisoners of war into Egypt, and I was 
 there five years with the troops of the great Mohar, father 
 of the chief pioneer Paaker." 
 
 Bent-Anat thanked the brave fellow, and Pentaur and 
 Nebsecht continued the narrative. 
 
 ''During the voyage," said Nebsecht, ''I was uneasy 
 about Pentaur, for I saw how he was pining, but in the 
 desert he seemed to rouse himself, and often whispered 
 sweet little songs that he had composed while we 
 marched. " 
 
 'That is strange," said Bent-Anat, "for I also got 
 better in the desert." 
 
 " Repeat the verses on the Beytharan plant,"* said 
 Nebsecht. 
 
 " Do you know the plant ? " asked the poet. " It grows 
 here in many places ; here it is. Only smell how sweet it 
 is if you bruise the fleshy stem and leaves. My little verse 
 is simple enough ; it occurred to me like many other songs 
 of which you know all the best " 
 
 "They all praise the same goddess," said Nebsecht, 
 laughing. 
 
 *' But let us have the verses," said Bent-Anat. The poet 
 repeated in a low voice : 
 
 " How often in the desert I have seen 
 The small herb, Beytharan, in modest green ! 
 In every tiny leaf and gland and hair 
 Sweet perfume is distilled, and scents the air. 
 How is it that in barren sandy ground 
 This little plant so sweet a gift has found ? 
 And that in me, in this vast desert plain, 
 The sleeping gift of song awakes again .?" 
 
 *' Do you not ascribe to the desert what is due to love f " 
 said Nefert. 
 
 * Santolina fragrantissima. 
 
400 UARDA. 
 
 " I owe it to both ; but I must acknowledge that the 
 desert is a wonderful physician for a sick soul. We take 
 refuge from the monotony that surrounds us in our own 
 reflections ; the senses are at rest ; and here, undisturbed 
 and uninfluenced from without, it is given to the mind to 
 think out every train of thought to the end, to examine 
 and exhaust every feeling to its finest shades. In the city, 
 one is always a mere particle in a great whole, on which 
 one is dependent, to which one must contribute, and from 
 which one must accept something. The solitary wanderer 
 in the desert stands quite alone ; he is in a manner freed 
 from the ties which bind him to any great human com- 
 munity ; he must fill up the void by his own identity, and 
 seek in it that which may give his existence significance 
 and consistency. Here, where the present retires into the 
 background, the thoughtful spirit finds no limits, however 
 remote. " 
 
 " Yes ; one can think well in the desert," said Nebsecht. 
 " Much has become clear to me here that in Egypt I only 
 guessed at. " 
 
 "What may that be ? " asked Pentaur. 
 
 "In the first place," replied Nebsecht, "that we none 
 of us really know anything rightly ; secondly that the ass 
 may love the rose, but the rose will not love the ass ; and 
 the third thing I will keep to myself, because it is my 
 secret, and though it concerns all the world no one would 
 trouble himself about it. My lord chamberlain, how is 
 this ? You know exactly how low people must bow before 
 the princess in proportion to their rank, and have no idea 
 how a backbone is made." 
 
 " Why should I ? " asked the chamberlain. " I have to 
 attend to outward things, while you are contemplating in- 
 ward things ; else your hair might be smoother, and your 
 dress less stained." 
 
 The travelers reached the old Cheta city of Hebron 
 without accident ; there they took leave of Abocharabos, 
 and under the safe escort of Egyptian troops started again 
 for the north. At Hebron Pentaur parted from the prin- 
 cess, and Bent-Anat bid him farewell without complain- 
 ing. 
 
 Uarda's father, who had learned every path and bridge 
 in Syria, accompanied the poet ; while the physician N*»b- 
 
UARDA. 401 
 
 secht remained with the ladies, whose good star seemed to 
 have deserted them with Pentaur 's departure, for the vio- 
 lent winter rains which fell in the mountains of Samaria 
 destroyed the roads, soaked through the tents, and con- 
 demned them frequently to undesirable delays. At Megid- 
 do they were received with high honors by the command- 
 ant of the Egyptian garrison and they were compelled to 
 linger here some days, for Nefert, who had been particu- 
 larly eager to hurry forward, was taken ill, and Nebsecht 
 was obliged to forbid her proceeding at this season. 
 
 Uarda grew pale and thoughtful, and Bent-Anat saw 
 with anxiety that the tender roses were fading from the 
 cheeks of her pretty favorite ; but when she questioned her 
 as to what ailed her she gave an evasive answer. She had 
 never either mentioned Rameri's naine before the princess, 
 nor shown her her mother's jewel, for she felt as if all that 
 had passed between her and the prince was a secret 
 which did not belong to her alone. Yet another reason 
 sealed her lips. She was passionately devoted to Bent- 
 Anat, and she told herself that if the princess heard it all, 
 she would either blame her brother or laugh at his affection 
 as at a child's play, and she felt as if in that case she could 
 not love Rameri's sister any more. 
 
 A messenger had been sent on from the first frontier 
 station to the king's camp to inquire by which road the 
 princess and her party should leave Megiddo. But the 
 emissary returned with a short and decided though affec- 
 tionate letter, written by the king's own hand, to his 
 daughter desiring her not to quit Megiddo, which was a 
 safe magazine and arsenal for the army, strongly fortified 
 and garrisoned, as it commanded the roads for the sea 
 into north and central Palestine. Decisive encounters, 
 he said, were impending, and she knew that the Egyptians 
 always excluded their wives and daughters from their war 
 train, and regarded them as the best reward of victory, 
 when peace was obtained. 
 
 While the ladies were waiting in Megiddo, Pentaur and 
 his red-bearded guide proceeded northward with a small 
 mounted escort, with which they were supplied by the 
 commandant of Hebron. 
 
 He himself rode with dignity, though this journey was 
 the first occasion on which he had sat on horseback. He 
 26 
 
402 UARDA. 
 
 seemed to have come into the world with the art of riding 
 born with him. As soon as he had learned from his com- 
 panions how to grasp the bridle and had made himself 
 familiar with the nature of the horse, it gave him the 
 greatest delight to tame and subdue a fiery steed. 
 
 He had left the priest's robes in Egypt. He wore a 
 coat of mail, a sword and battle-ax, like a warrior, and his 
 long beard, which had grown during his captivity, now 
 flowed down over his breast. Uarda's father often looked 
 at him with admiration, and said : 
 
 "One might think the Mohar, with whom I often trav- 
 eled these roads, had risen from the dead. He looked like 
 you, he spoke like you, he called the men as you do, nay 
 he sat as you do when the road was too bad for his chariot, 
 and he got on horseback and held the reins." 
 
 None of Pentaur's men, except his red-bearded friend, 
 was more to him than a mere hired servant, and he usually 
 preferred to ride alone, apart from the little troop, musing 
 on the past — seldom on the future — and generally observ- 
 ing all that lay on his way with a keen eye. 
 
 They soon reached Lebanon ; between it and anti- 
 Lebanon a road led through the great Syrian valley. It 
 rejoiced him to see with his own eyes the distant shimmer 
 of the white snow-capped peaks, of which he had often 
 heard warriors talk. 
 
 The country between the two mountain ranges was rich 
 and fruitful, and from the heights waterfalls and torrents 
 rushed into the valley. Many villages and towns lay on 
 his road, but most of them had been damaged in the war. 
 The peasants had been robbed of their teams of cattle, the 
 flocks had been driven off from the shepherds, and when a 
 vine-dresser who was training his vine saw the little troop 
 approaching, he fled to the ravines and forests. 
 
 The traces of the plow and the spade were everywhere 
 visible, but the fields were for the most part not sown ; the 
 young peasants were under arms, the gardens and 
 meadows were trodden down by soldiers, the houses and 
 cottages plundered and destroyed or burned. Everything 
 bore the trace of the devastation of the war, only the oak 
 and cedar forests lorded it proudly over the mountain 
 slopes, planes and locust trees grew in groves, and the 
 gorges and rifts of the thinly wooded limestone hills, which 
 
 I 
 
UARDA. 403 
 
 bordered the fertile lowland, were filled with evergreen 
 brushwood. 
 
 At this time of year everything was moist and well 
 watered, and Pentaur compared the country with Egypt, 
 and observed how the same results were attained here as 
 there, but by different agencies. He remembered that 
 morning on Sinai, and said to himself again : "Another 
 God than ours rules here, and the old masters were not 
 wrong who reviled godless strangers and warned the un- 
 initiated, to whom the secret of the One must remain 
 unrevealed, to quit their home." 
 
 The nearer he approached the king's camp the more viv- 
 idly he thought of Bent-Anat, and the faster his heart beat 
 from time to time when he thought of his meeting with 
 the king. On the whole he was full of cheerful confidence, 
 which he felt to be folly, and which nevertheless he could 
 not repress. 
 
 Ameni had often blamed him for his too great diffidence 
 and his want of ambition, when he had willingly let others 
 pass him by. He remembered this now, and smiled and 
 understood himself less than ever, for though he resolutely 
 repeated to himself a hundred times that he was a low- 
 born, poor and excommunicated priest, the feeling would 
 not be smothered that he had a right to claim Bent-Anat 
 for his own. 
 
 And if the king refused him his daughter — if he made 
 him pay for his audacity with his life ? 
 
 Not an eyelash, he well knew, would tremble under the 
 blow of the ax, and he would die content ; for that which 
 she had granted him was his, and no god could take from 
 him. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 Once or twice Pentaur and his companions had had to 
 defend themselves against hostile mountaineers, who 
 rushed suddenly upon them out of the woods. When they 
 were about two days' journey still from the end of their 
 march they had a bloody skirmish with a roving band of 
 
404 UARDA. 
 
 men that, seemed to belong to a larger detachment of 
 troops. 
 
 The nearer they got to Kadesh the more familiar 
 Kaschta showed himself with every stock and stone, and 
 he went forward to obtain information ; he returned some- 
 what anxious, for he had perceived the main body of the 
 Cheta army on the road which they must cross. How 
 came the enemy here in the rear of the Egyptian army ? 
 Could Rameses have sustained a defeat ? 
 
 Only the day before they had met some Egyptian 
 soldiers, who had told them that the king was staying in 
 the camp, and a great battle was impending. This, 
 however, could not have by this time been decided, and 
 they had met no flying Egyptians. 
 
 ^*If we can only get two miles further without having 
 to fight," said Uarda's father. *'I know what to do. 
 Down below, there lies a ravine, and from it a path leads 
 over hill and vale to the plain of Kadesh. No one ever 
 knew it but the Mohar and his most confidential servants. 
 About half-way there is a hidden cave, in which we have 
 often stayed the whole day long. The Cheta used to be- 
 live that the Mohar possessed magic powers, and could 
 make himself invisible, for when they lay in wait for us 
 on the way he used suddenly to vanish ; but certainly not 
 into the clouds, only into the cave, which the Mohar used 
 to call his Tuat.* If you are not afraid of a climb, and 
 will lead your horse behind you for a mile or two, I can 
 show you the way, and to-morrow morning we will be at 
 the camp.'* 
 
 Pentaur let his guide lead the way ; they came, without 
 having occasion to fight, as far as the gorge between the 
 hills, through which a full and foaming mountain torrent 
 rushed to the valley. Kaschta dropped from his horse, 
 and the others did the same. After the horses had passed 
 through the water he carefully effaced their tracks as far 
 as the road, then for about half a mile he ascended the 
 valley against the stream. At last he stopped in front of 
 a thick oleander-bush, looked carefully about, and lightly 
 pushed it aside ; when he had found an entrance, his com- 
 panions and their weary scrambling beasts followed him 
 
 * Tuat — the nether-world, the abyss. 
 
UARDA. 405 
 
 without difficulty, and they presently found themselves in 
 a grove of lofty cedars. Now they had to squeeze them- 
 selves between masses of rock, now they labored up and 
 down over smooth pebbles, which offered scarcely any foot- 
 ing to the horses' hoofs ; now they had to push their way 
 through thick brushwood, and now to cross little brooks 
 swelled by the winter rains. 
 
 The road became more difficult at every step, then it 
 began to grow dark, and heavy drops of rain fell from the 
 clouded sky. 
 
 ''Make haste, and keep close to me," cried Kaschta. 
 "Half an hour more, and we shall be under shelter, if I 
 do not lose my way." 
 
 Then a horse broke down, and with great difficulty was 
 got up again ; the rain fell with increased violence, the 
 night grew darker, and the soldier often found himself 
 brought to a standstill, feeHng for the path with his 
 hands ; twice he thought he had lost it, but he would not 
 give in till he had recovered the track. At last he stood 
 still, and called Pentaur to come to him. 
 
 *' Hereabouts," said he, ''the cave must be ; keep close 
 to me — it is possible that we may come upon some of 
 the pioneer's people. Provisions and fuel were always 
 kept here in his father's time. Can you see me ? Hold 
 on to my girdle, and bend your head low till I tell you 
 you may stand upright again. Keep your ax ready, we 
 may find some of the Cheta or bandits roosting there. 
 You people must wait — we will soon call you to come under 
 shelter. " 
 
 Pentaur closely followed his guide, pushing his way 
 through the dripping brushwood, crawling through a low 
 passage in the rock, and at last emerging on a small rocky 
 plateau. 
 
 "Take care where you are going!" cried Kaschta. 
 "Keep to the left, to the right there is a deep abyss. I 
 smell smoke ! Keep your hand on your ax, there must be 
 some one in the cave. Wait ! I will fetch the men as far 
 as this." 
 
 The soldier went back, and Pentaur listened for any 
 sounds that might come from the same direction as the 
 smoke. He fancied he could perceive a small gleam of 
 light, and he certainly heard quite plainly, first a tone of 
 
4o6 UARDA. 
 
 complaint, then an angry voice ; he went toward the light, 
 feeling his way by the wall on his left ; the light shone 
 broader and brighter, and seemed to issue from a crack in 
 a door. 
 
 By this time the soldier had rejoined Pentaur, and both 
 listened for a few minutes ; then the poet whispered to his 
 guide : 
 
 " They are speaking Egyptian ; I caught a few words. " 
 
 *' All the better," said Kaschta. '*Paaker or some of 
 his people are in there ; the door is there still, and shut. 
 If we give four hard and three gentle knocks, it will be 
 opened. Can you understand what they are saying ? " 
 
 " Some one is begging to be set free," replied Pentaur, 
 **and speaks of some traitor. The other has a rough 
 voice, and says he must follow his master's orders. Now 
 the one who spoke before is crying ; do you hear ? He is 
 entreating him by the soul of his father to take his fetters 
 off. How despairing his voice is ! Knock, Kaschta — it 
 strikes me we are come at the right moment — knock, I 
 say." 
 
 The soldier knocked first four times, then three times. 
 A shriek rang through the cave, and they could hear a 
 heavy, rusty bolt drawn back, the roughly-hewn door was 
 opened, and a hoarse voice asked : 
 
 "Is that Paaker.?" 
 
 *' No," answered the soldier, *' I am Kaschta. Do not 
 you know me again, Nubi ? " 
 
 The man thus addressed, who was Paaker's Ethiopian 
 slave, drew back in surprise. 
 
 "Are you still alive?" he exclaimed. "What brings 
 you here ? " 
 
 " My lord here will tell you," answered Kaschta, as he 
 made way for Pentaur to enter the cave. The poet went 
 up to the black man, and the hght of the fire which burned 
 in the cave fell full on his face. 
 
 The old slave stared at him, and drew back in astonish- 
 ment and terror. He threw himself on the earth, howled 
 like a dog that fawns at the feet of his angry master, and 
 cried out : 
 
 "He ordered it — Spirit of my master ! he ordered it." 
 
 Pentaur stood still, astounded and incapable of speech, 
 till he perceived a young man, who crept up to him on his 
 
UARDA. 407 
 
 hands and feet, which were bound with thongfS, and who 
 cried to him in a tone, in which terror was mingled witli a 
 tenderness which touched Pentaur's very soul : 
 
 "Save me — spirit of the Mohar! save me, father!" 
 Then the poet spoke. 
 
 *'I am no spirit of the dead," said he. "I am the 
 priest Pentaur; and I know you, boy; you are Horus, 
 Paaker's brother, who was brought up with me in the 
 temple of Seti." 
 
 The prisoner approached him trembling, looked at him 
 inquiringly and exclaimed : 
 
 " Be you who you may, you are exactly like my father 
 in person and in voice. Loosen my bonds, and listen to 
 me, for the most hideous, atrocious, and accursed treach- 
 ery threatens us — the king and all." 
 
 Pentaur drew his sword and cut the leather thongs 
 which bound the young man's hands and feet. He 
 stretched his released limbs, uttering thanks to the gods, 
 then he cried : 
 
 *' If you love Egypt and the king follow me ; perhaps 
 there is yet time to hinder the hideous deed, and to frus- 
 trate this treachery. " 
 
 "The night is dark, " said Kaschta, "and the road to 
 the valley is dangerous." 
 
 "You must follow me if it is to your death ! " cried the 
 youth, and, seizing Pentaur's hand, he dragged him with 
 him out of the cave. 
 
 As soon as the black slave had satisfied himself that 
 Pentaur was the priest whom he had seen fighting in 
 front of the paraschites' hovel, and not the ghost of his 
 dead master, he endeavored to slip past Paaker's brother, 
 but Horus observed the maneuver, and seized him by his 
 woolly hair. The slave cried out loudly, and whimpered 
 out : 
 
 * ' If thou dost escape, Paaker will kill me ; he swore he 
 would." 
 
 ' ' Wait ! " said the youth. He dragged the slave back, 
 flung him into the cave, and blocked up the door with a 
 huge log, which lay near it for that purpose. 
 
 When the three men had crept back through the low 
 passage in the rocks, and found themselves once more in 
 the open air, they found a high wind was blowing. 
 
4o8 UARDA. 
 
 * ' The storm will soon be over, "said Horus. * * See how 
 the clouds are driving ! Let us have horses, Pentaur, for 
 there is not a minute to be lost. *' 
 
 The poet ordered Kaschta to summon the people to 
 start, but the soldier advised differently. 
 
 * * Men and horses are exhausted, " he said, * ' and we shall 
 get on very slowly in the dark. Let the beasts feed for an 
 hour,*^and the men get rested and warm ; by that time the 
 moon will be up, and we shall make up for the delay by 
 having fresh horses, and light enough to see the road. " 
 
 ** The man is right," said Horus; and he led Kaschta 
 to a cave in the rocks, where barley and dates for the 
 horses, and a few jars of wine, had been preserved. They 
 soon had lighted a fire, and, while some of the men took 
 care of the horses, and others cooked a warm mess of 
 victuals, Horus and Pentaur walked up and down im- 
 patiently. 
 
 '* Had you been long bound in those thongs when we 
 came ? " asked Pentaur. 
 
 "Yesterday my brother fell upon me," replied Horus. 
 " He is by this time a long way ahead of us, and if 
 he joins the Cheta, and we do not reach the Egyptian 
 camp before daybreak, all is lost." 
 
 " Paaker, then, is plotting treason ? " 
 
 ''Treason, the foulest, blackest treason I" exclaimei. 
 the young man. '' Oh, my lost father 1 " 
 
 ** Confide in me," said Pentaur, going up to the un' 
 happy youth, who had hidden his face in his hands 
 ''What is Paaker plotting? How is it that your brother 
 is your enemy ? " 
 
 " He is the elder of us two ! " said Horus, with a trem- 
 bling voice. "When my father died I had only a short 
 time before left the school of Seti, and with his last words 
 my father enjoined me to respect Paaker as the head of 
 our family. He is domineering and violent, and will 
 allow no one's will to cross his ; but I bore everything, 
 and always obeyed him, often against my better judg- 
 ment. I remained with him two years, then I went to 
 Thebes, and there I married, and my wife and child are 
 now living there with my mother. About sixteen months 
 afterward I came back to Syria, and we traveled through 
 the country together ; but by this time I did not choose 
 
UARDA. 409 
 
 to be the mere tool of my brother's will, for I had grown 
 prouder, and it seemed to me that the father of my child 
 ought not to be subservient, even to his own brother, 
 We often quarreled, and had a bad time together, and life 
 became quite unendurable, when — about eight weeks since 
 — Paaker came back from Thebes, and the king gave him to 
 understand that he approved more of my reports than of 
 his. From my childhood I have always been soft-hearted 
 and patient ; every one says I am like my mother ; but 
 what Paaker made me suffer by words and deeds, that is 
 
 — I could not " His voice broke, and Pentaur felt how 
 
 cruelly he had suffered ; then he went on again : 
 
 " What happened to my brother in Egypt, I do not 
 know, for he is very reserved, and asks for no sympathy, 
 either in joy or in sorrow ; but from words he has dropped 
 now and then I gather that he not only bitterly hates 
 Mena, the charioteer — who certainly did him an injury — 
 but has some grudge against the king too. I spoke to 
 him of it once, but only once, for his rage is unbounded 
 when he is provoked, and after all he is my elder brother. 
 
 " For some days they have been preparing in the camp 
 for a decisive battle, and it was our duty to ascertain the 
 position and strength of the enemy ; the king gave me, 
 and not Paaker, the commission to prepare the report. 
 Early yesterday morning I drew it out and wrote it ; then 
 my brother said he would carry it to the camp, and I was 
 to wait here. I positively refused, as Rameses had 
 required the report at my hands, and not at his. Well, he 
 raved like a madman, declared that I had taken advan- 
 tage of his absence to insinuate myself into the king's 
 favor, and commanded me to obey him as the head of the 
 house, in the name of my father, 
 
 '*! was sitting irresolute, when he went out of the 
 cavern to call his horses ; then my eyes fell on the things 
 which the old black slave was tying together to load on a 
 pack-horse — among them was a roll of writing. I fancied 
 it was my own, and took it up to look at it, when — what 
 should I find ? At the risk of my life 1 had gone among 
 the Cheta, and had found that the main body of their 
 army is collected in a cross-valley of the Orontes, quite 
 hidden in the mountains to the northeast of Kadesh ; and 
 in the roll it was stated, in P^aker's own h^mdwriting, 
 
4X0 UARDA. 
 
 that that valley is clear, and the way through it open, and 
 well suited for the passage of the Egyptian war-chariots ; 
 various other false details were given, and when I looked 
 further among his things, I found between the arrows in 
 his quiver, on which he had written 'death to Mena,' 
 another little roll of writing. I tore it open, and my blood 
 ran cold when I saw to whom it was addressed." 
 
 "To the king of the Cheta?" cried Pentaur, in excite- 
 ment. 
 
 "To his chief officer, Titure,"* continued Horus. "1 
 was holding both the rolls in my hand, when Paaker 
 came back into the cave. ' Traitor ! ' I cried out to him ; 
 but he flung the lasso, with which he had been catching 
 the stray horses, threw it round my neck, and as I fell 
 choking on the ground, he and the black man, who obeys 
 him like a dog, bound me hand and foot ; he left the old 
 negro to keep guard over me, took the rolls and rode away. 
 Look, there are the stars, and the moon will soon be up." 
 
 "Make haste, men ! " cried Pentaur. "The three best 
 horses for me, Horus and Kaschta ; the rest remain here." 
 
 As the red-bearded soldier led the horses forward, the 
 moon shone forth, and within an hour the travelers had 
 reached the plain ; they sprang on to the beasts and rode 
 madly on toward the lake, which, when the sun rose, 
 gleamed before them in silvery-green. As they drew 
 near to it they could discern, on its treeless western shore, 
 black masses moving hither and thither ; clouds of dust 
 rose up from the plain, pierced by flashes of light, like the 
 rays of the sun reflected from a moving mirror. 
 
 "The battle is begun ! " cried Horus ; and he fell sob- 
 bing on his horse's neck. 
 
 "But all is not lost yet ! " exclaimed the poet, spurring 
 his horse to a final effort of strength. His companions 
 did the same, but first Kaschta's horse fell under him, 
 then Horus's broke down. 
 
 " Help may be given by the left wing ! " cried Horus. 
 "I will run as fast as I can on foot — I know where to find 
 them. You will easily find the king if you follow the 
 stream to the stone bridge. In the cross-valley about a 
 thousand paces further north — to the northwest of our 
 
 *This name occurs among the Cheta on thQ triumphal Monvments of 
 the Raro^s^Quro. 
 
UARDA. 411 
 
 stronghold — the surprise is to be effected. Try to get 
 through, and warn Rameses ; the Egyptian pass- word is 
 *Bent-Anat/ the name of the king's favorite daughter. 
 But even if you had wings, and could fly straight to himj 
 they would overpower him if I cannot succeed in turning 
 the left wing on the rear of the enemy." 
 
 Pentaur galloped onward; but it was not long before 
 his horse too gave way, and he ran forward Hke a man 
 who runs a race, and shouted the pass- word **Bent-Anat" 
 — for the ring of her name seemed to give him vigor. 
 Presently he came upon a mounted messenger of the 
 enemy ; he struck him down from his horse, flung himself 
 into the saddle, and rushed on toward the camp, as if he 
 were riding to his wedding. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 During the night which had proved so eventful to our 
 friends, much had occurred in the king's camp, for the 
 troops were to advance to the long-anticipated battle 
 before sunrise. 
 
 Paaker had given his false report of the enemy's move- 
 ments to the Pharoah with his own hand ; a council of 
 war had been held, and each division had received in- 
 structions as to where it was to take up its position. The 
 corps, which bore the name of the Sun-god Ra, advanced 
 from the south toward Schabatun,* so as to surround the 
 
 * Kadesh was the chief city of the Cheta. /. <?., Aramaeans, round which 
 the united forces of all the peoples of western Asia had collected. There 
 were sevei \ cities called Kadesh. That which frequently checked the 
 forces of Thotmes III., may have been situated further to the south; 
 but the Cheta city of Kadesh, where Rameses II., fought so hard a battle, 
 was undoubtedly on the Orontes, for the river which is depicted on the 
 pylon of the Ramesseum as parting into two streams which wash the 
 walls of the fortress, is called Aruntha, and in the Epos of Pentaur it is 
 stated that this battle took place at Kadesh by the Orontes. The name 
 of the city survives, at a spot just three miles north of the lake of 
 Riblah. The battle itself I have described from the P'pos of Pentaur, 
 the national epic of Egypt. It ends with these words : " This was written 
 Hnd inacJe by the scribe Pentjivir." It wa§ so highly esteemed tha^ it is 
 
412 UARDA. 
 
 lake on the east, and fall on the enemy's flank ; the corps 
 of Seth, composed of men from lower Egypt, was sent on 
 to Arnam to form the center ; the king himself, with the 
 flower of the chariot-guard, proposed to follow the road 
 through the valley, which Paaker's report represented as 
 a safe and open passage to the plain of the Orontes. 
 Thus, while the other divisions occupied the enemy, he 
 could cross the Orontes by a ford, and fall on the rear of 
 the fortress of Kadesh from the northwest. The corps of 
 Amon, with the Ethiopian mercenaries, were to support 
 him, joining him by another route, which the pioneer's 
 false indications represented as connecting the line of 
 operations. The corps of Ptah remained as a reserve 
 behind the left wing. 
 
 The soldiers had not gone to rest as usual ; heavily 
 armed troops, who bore in one hand a shield of half a 
 man's height, and in the other a scimitar, or a short, 
 pointed sword, guarded the camp, where numerous fires 
 burned, round which crowded the resting warriors. Here 
 a w^ine-skin was passed from hand to hand, there a joint 
 was roasting on a wooden spit ; further on a party were 
 throwing dice for the booty they had won, or playing at 
 morra. All was in eager activity, and many a scuffle 
 occurred among the excited soldiers, and had to be settled 
 by the camp watch. 
 
 Near the inclosed plots, where the horses were tethered, 
 the smiths were busily engaged in shoeing the beasts 
 which needed it, and in sharpening the points of the 
 lances ; the servants of the chariot-guard were also fully 
 occupied, as the chariots had for the most part been 
 brought over the mountains in detached pieces on the 
 backs of pack-horses and asses,* and now had to be put 
 together again, and to have their wheels greased. On the 
 eastern side of the camp stood a canopy, under which the 
 
 engraved in stone twice at Luqsor, and once at Karnak. Copies of it on 
 papyrus are frequent ; for instance, papyrus Sallier III., and papyrus 
 Raifet — unfortunately much injured — in the Louvre. The principal in- 
 cident, the rescue of the king from the enemy, is repeated at the Rames- 
 seum at Thebes, and at Abu Simbel, It was translated into French by 
 Vicorate E. de Rouge. The camp of Rameses is depicted on the pylons 
 of Luqsor and the Ramesseum. 
 
 * The different parts of dismembered chariots are represented as being 
 C^rjed on asses in the picture of the camp in the Ramesseum. 
 
UARDA. 413 
 
 standards were kept, and there numbers of priests were 
 occupied in their office of blessing- the warriors, offering sac- 
 rifices, and singing hymns and litanies. But these pious 
 sounds were frequently overpowered by the loud voices of 
 the gamblers and revelers, by the blows of the hammers, 
 the hoarse braying of the asses, and the neighing of the 
 horses. From time to time also the deep roar of the 
 king's war-lions * might be heard ; these beasts followed 
 him into the fight, and were now howling- for food, as 
 they had been kept fasting to excite their fury. 
 
 In the midst of the camp stood the king's tent, sur- 
 rounded by foot and chariot-guards. The auxiliary troops 
 were encamped in divisions according to their nation- 
 ality, and between them the Egyptian legions of heavy- 
 armed soldiers and archers. Here might be seen the 
 black Ethiopian with woolly matted hair, in which a few 
 feathers were stuck — the handsome, well-proportioned 
 "son of the desert" from the sandy Arabian shore of the 
 Red Sea, who performed his wild war-dance, flourishing 
 his lance, with a peculiar wriggle of his hips — pale Sar- 
 dinians, with metal helmets and heavy swords — light- 
 colored Libyans, with tattooed arms, and ostrich-feathers 
 on their heads — brown, bearded Arabs, worshipers of the 
 stars, inseparable from their horses, and armed, some 
 with lances, and some with bows and arrows. And not 
 less various than their aspect were the tongues of the 
 allied troops — but all obedient to the king's word of com- 
 mand. 
 
 In the midst of the royal tents was a lightly constructed 
 temple with the statues of the gods of Thebes, and of the 
 king's forefathers ; clouds of incense rose in front of it, 
 for the priests were engaged from the eve of the battle 
 until it was over, in prayers and offerings to Amon, the 
 king of the gods, to Necheb, the goddess of victory, and 
 to Menth, the god of war. 
 
 The keeper of the lions stood by the Pharaoh's sleeping 
 tent, and the tent, which served as a council-chamber, 
 was distinguished by the standards in front of it ; but the 
 council-tent was empty and still, while in the kitchen- 
 tent, as well aa in the wine-store close by, all was in a 
 
 * See Diodorus i., 47. Also the pictures of the king rushing to the 
 fight. 
 
414 UARDA. 
 
 bustle. The large pavilion, in which Rameses and his 
 suite were taking their evening meal, was more brilliantly 
 lighted than all the others ; it was a covered tent, a long 
 square in shape, and all round it were colored lamps, 
 which made it as light as day ; a body-guard of Sardin- 
 ians, Libyans, and Egyptians guarded it with drawn 
 swords, and seemed too wholly absorbed with the im- 
 portance of their office even to notice the dishes and wine- 
 jars, which the king's pages — the sons of the highest 
 families in Egypt — took at the tent door from the cooks 
 and the butlers. 
 
 The walls and slanting roof of this quickly-built and 
 movable banqueting hall, consisted of a strong, impene- 
 trable carpet-stuff, woven at Thebes, and afterward dyed 
 purple at Tanis by the Phoenicians. The cedar-wood pil- 
 lars of the tent were covered with gold, and the ropes, 
 which secured the light erection to the tent-pegs, were 
 twisted of silk, and thin threads of silver.* Seated round 
 four tables, more than a hundred men were taking their 
 evening meal ; at three of them the generals of the army, 
 the chief priests, and councilors, sat on light stools ; 
 at the fourth, and at some distance from the others, were 
 the princes of the blood ; and the king himself sat apart at 
 a high table, on a throne supported by gilt figures of Asi- 
 atic prisoners in chains. His table and throne stood on a 
 low dais covered with panther-skin ; but even without that 
 Rameses would have towered above his companions. His 
 form was powerful, and there was a commanding aspect 
 in his bearded face, and in the high brow, crowned with 
 a golden diadem adorned with the heads of two Uraeus- 
 snakes, wearing the crowns of Upper and Lower Egypt. 
 A broad collar of precious stones covered half his breast, 
 the lower half was concealed by a scarf or belt, and his 
 bare arms were adorned with bracelets. His finely pro- 
 portioned limbs looked as if molded in bronze, so smoothly 
 were the powerful muscles covered with the shining 
 copper-colored skin. Sitting here among those who were 
 devoted to him, he looked with kind and fatherly pride at 
 his blooming sons. 
 
 * Silk was certainly known in the time of the Ptolemies. The trans- 
 parent bom by X tissues of Kos were celebrated. Pariset, Histoire de la 
 Soie, 1862. 
 
UARDA. 415 
 
 The lion was at rest — but nevertheless he was a lion, 
 and terrible things might be looked for when he should 
 rouse himself, and when the mighty hand, which now dis- 
 pensed bread, should be clenched for the fight. There 
 was nothing mean in this man, and yet nothing alarming ; 
 for, if his eye had a commanding sparkle, the expression 
 of his mouth was particularly gentle ; and the deep voice 
 which could make itself heard above the clash of fighting 
 men, could also assume the sweetest and most winning 
 tones. His education had not only made him well aware 
 of his greatness and power, but had left him also a 
 genuine man, a stranger to none of the emotions of thf 
 human soul. 
 
 Behind Pharaoh stood a man, younger than himself, 
 who gave him his wine-cup after first touching it with hi.s 
 own lips ; this was Mena, the king s charioteer and favorite 
 companion. His figure was slight and yet vigorous, 
 supple and yet dignified, and his finely-formed features 
 and frank bright eyes were full at once of self-respect and 
 of benevolence. Such a man might fail in reflection and 
 counsel, but would be admirable as an honorable, staunch 
 and faithful friend. 
 
 Among the princes, Chamus * sat nearest to the king ; 
 he was the eldest of his sons, and while still young 
 had been invested with the dignity of high-priest of Mem- 
 phis. The curly-haired Rameri, who had been rescued 
 from imprisonment — into which he had fallen on his 
 journey from Egypt — had been assigned a place with the 
 younger princes at the lowest end of the table. 
 
 " It all sounds very threatening ! " said the king. " But 
 though each of you croakers speaks the truth, your love 
 for me dims your sight. In fact, all that Rameri has told 
 me, that Bent-Anat writes, that Mena's stud-keeper says 
 of Ani, and that comes through other channels — amounts 
 to nothing that need disturb us. I know your uncle — I 
 know that he will make his borrowed throne as wide as he 
 possibly can ; but when we return home he will be quite 
 content to sit on a narrow seat again. Great enterprises 
 
 * He is named Cha-em-Us on the monuments, /. e., " splendor in 
 Thebes." He became the Sam, or high-priest of Memphis. His 
 mummy was discovered by Mariette in the tomb of Apis at Saqqarah 
 during his excavations of the Serapeum at Memphis. 
 
4l6 UARDA. 
 
 and daring deeds are not what he excels in ; but he is very- 
 apt at carrying out a ready-made system, and, therefore, 
 I chose him to be my regent." 
 
 "But Ameni," said Chamus, bowing respectfully to his 
 father, ' ' seems to have stirred up his ambition, and to sup- 
 port him with his advice. The chief of the House of Seti 
 is a man of great ability, and at least half of the priest- 
 hood are his adherents." 
 
 "I know it," replied the king. ** Their lordships owe 
 -iie a grudge because I have called their serfs to arms, and 
 they want them to till their acres. A pretty sort of people 
 they have sent me ! their courage flies with the first arrow. 
 They shall guard the camp to-morrow ; they will be equal 
 to that when it is made clear to their understanding that, 
 if they let the tents be taken, the bread, meat and wine- 
 skins will also fall into the hands of the enemy. If Kadesh 
 is taken by storm, the temples of the Nile shall have the 
 greater part of the spoil, and you yourself, my young high- 
 priest of Memphis, shall show your colleagues that Rame- 
 ses repays in bushels that which he has taken in handfuls 
 from the ministers of the gods." 
 
 ''Ameni's disaffection," replied Chamus, ''has a deeper 
 root ; a mighty spirit like his seeks and finds its own 
 way " 
 
 * ' But their lordships, " interrupted Rameses, * ' are accus- 
 tomed to govern the king too, and I — I do not do them 
 credit. I rule as vicar of the Lord of the gods, but — I 
 myself am no god, though they attribute to me the honors 
 of a divinity ; and in all humility of heart I willingly leave 
 it to them to be the mediators between the immortals and 
 me or my people. Human affairs certainly I choose to 
 manage in my own way. And now no more of them. I 
 cannot bear to doubt my friends, and trustfulness is so 
 dear, so essential to me, that I must indulge in it even if 
 my confidence results in my being deceived." 
 
 The king glanced at Mena, who handed him a golden 
 cup — which he emptied. He looked round at the splendid 
 company, and then, with a flash of his grave bright eyes, 
 he added : 
 
 "And if I am betrayed — if ten such as Ameni and Ani 
 entice my people into a snare — I shall return home, and 
 will tread the reptiles into dust." 
 
UARDA. 
 
 417 
 
 His deep voice rang out the words, as if he were a herald 
 proclaiming a victorious deed of arms. Not a word was 
 spoken, not a hand moved, when he ceased speaking. 
 Then he raised his cup, and said : 
 
 "It is well before the battle to uplift our hearts ! We 
 have done great deeds ; distant nations have felt our hand ; 
 we have planted our pillars of conquest by their rivers, 
 and graven the record of our deeds on their rocks.* Your 
 king is great above all kings, and it is through the might 
 of the gods, and your valor — my brave comrades. May 
 to-morrow's fight bring us new glory ! May the immor- 
 tals soon bring this war to a close ! Empty your wine- 
 cups with me — To victory and a speedy return home in 
 peace ! " 
 
 " Victory ! Victory ! Long life to the Pharaoh ! Strength 
 and health ! " cried the guests of the king, who, as he 
 descended from his throne, cried to the drinkers : 
 
 '* Now, rest till the star of Isis sets. Then follow me to 
 prayer at the altar of Anion, and then — to battle.'* 
 
 Fresh cries of triumph sounded through the room, while 
 Rameses gave his hand with a few words of encourage- 
 ment to each of his sons in turn. He desired the two 
 youngest, Mernephtah andRameri, to follow him, and 
 quitting the banquet with them and Mena, he proceeded, 
 under the escort of his officers and guards, who bore 
 staves before him, with golden lilies and ostrich-feathers. 
 to his sleeping tent, which was surrounded by a corps 
 d' elite under the command of his sons. Before entering the 
 tent he asked for some pieces of meat, and gave them 
 with his own hand to his lions, who let him stroke them 
 like tame cats. Then he glanced round the stable, patted 
 the sleek necks and shoulders of his favorite horses, and 
 decided that '' Nura " f and "Victory to Thebes " should 
 bear him into the battle on the morrow. 
 
 When he had gone into the sleeping tent, he desired 
 his attendants to leave him ; he signed to Mena to divest 
 him of his ornaments and his arms, and called to him his 
 
 * Herodotus speaks of the pictures graven on the rocks in the provinces 
 conquered by Rameses II., in memory of his achievements. He saw 
 two, one of which remains on a rock near Beyrut. 
 
 t The horses driven by Rameses at the battle of Kadesh were in fact 
 thus named. 
 
 27 
 
4i8 UARDA. 
 
 youngest sons, who were waiting respectfully at the door 
 of the tent. 
 
 "Why did I desire you to accompany me?" he asked 
 them, gravely. Both were silent, and he repeated his 
 question. 
 
 ''Because," said Rameri at length, " you observed that 
 all was not quite right between us two." 
 
 **And because," continued the king. "I desire that 
 unity should exist between my children. You will have 
 enemies enough to fight with to-morrow, but friends are 
 not often to be found, and are too often taken from us by 
 the fortune of war. We ought to feel no anger toward the 
 friend we may lose, but expect to meet him lovingly in the 
 other world. Speak, Rameri, what has caused a division 
 between you ? " 
 
 *'I bear him no ill-will," answered Rameri. ''You 
 lately gave me the sword which Mernephtah has there 
 stuck in his belt, because I did my duty well in the 
 last skirmish with the enemy. You know we both sleep in 
 the same tent, and yesterday, when I drew my sword out 
 of its sheath to admire the fine work of the blade, I found 
 that another, not so sharp, had been put in its place." 
 
 "I had only exchanged my sword for his in fun," inter- 
 rupted Mernephtah. " But he can never take a joke, and 
 declares I want to wear a prize that I have not earned ; 
 he would try, he said, to win another and then " 
 
 " I have heard enough ; you have both done wrong," 
 said the king. "Even in fun, Mernephtah, you should 
 never cheat or deceive. I did so once, and I will tell you 
 what happened, as a warning. 
 
 "My noble mother, Tuaa, desired me, the first time 1 
 went into Fenchu* to bring her a pebble from the shore 
 near Byblos, where the body of Osiris was washed. As 
 we returned to Thebes, my mothers request recurred to 
 my mind ; I was young and thoughtless — I picked up a 
 stone by the wayside, took it with me, and when she 
 asked me for the remembrance from Byblos I silently gave 
 her the pebble from Thebes. She was delighted, she 
 showed it to her brothers and sisters, and laid it by the 
 statues of her ancestors ; but I was miserable with shame 
 and penitence, and at last I secretly took away the stone, 
 * Phoenicia ; on monuments of the eighteenth dynasty. 
 
UARDA. 
 
 419 
 
 and threw it into the water. All the servants were called 
 together, and strict inquiry was made as to the theft of the 
 stone ; then I could hold out no longer, and confessed 
 everything. No one punished me, and yet I never suf- 
 fered more severely ; from that time I have never deviated 
 from the exact truth even in jest. Take the lesson to 
 heart, Mernephtah — you, Rameri, take back your sword, 
 and, believe me, life brings us so many real causes of 
 vexation that it is well to learn early to pass lightly over 
 little things if you do not wish to become a surly fellow 
 like the pioneer Paaker ; and that seems far from likely 
 with a gay, reckless temper like yours. Now shake hands 
 with each other." 
 
 The young princes went up to each other, and Rameri 
 fell on his brother's neck and kissed him. The king 
 stroked their heads. *'Now go in peace," he said, **and 
 to-morrow you shall both strive to win a fresh mark of 
 honor." 
 
 When his sons had left the tent Rameses turned to his 
 charioteer and said : 
 
 "I have to speak to you too before the battle. I can 
 read your soul through your eyes, and it seems to me that 
 things have gone wrong with you smce the keeper of your 
 stud arrived here. What has happened in Thebes ? " 
 
 Mena looked frankly but sadly at the king : 
 
 ** My step-mother, Katuti," he said, " is managing my 
 estate very badly, pledging the land and selling the cattle." 
 
 " That can be remedied, "said Rameses, kindly. " You 
 know I promised to grant you the fulfillment of a wish if 
 Nefert trusted you as perfectly as you believe. But it 
 appears to me as if something more nearly concerning you 
 than this were wrong, for I never knew you anxious about 
 money and lands. Speak openly ; you know I am your 
 father, and the heart and the eye of the man who leads 
 my horse to battle must be open without reserve to my 
 gaze. ' 
 
 Mena kissed the king's robe ; then he said : 
 
 ** Nefert has left Katuti's house, and as thou knowest, 
 has followed thy daughter, Bent-Anat, to the sacred 
 mountain and Megiddo." 
 
 "I thought the change was a good one," replied 
 Rameses. *' I leave Bent-Anat in the care of Bent-Anat, 
 
420 UARDA. 
 
 for she needs no other guardianship, and your wife can 
 have no better protector than Bent-Anat." 
 
 ''Certainly not ! " exclaimed Mena, with sincere empha- 
 sis. *' But before they started miserable things occurred. 
 Thou knowest that before she married me she was betrothed 
 to her cousin, the pioneer Paaker, and he, during his stay 
 in Thebes, has gone in and out of my house, has helped 
 Katuti with an enormous sum to pay the debts of my wild 
 brother-in-law, and — as my stud-keeper saw with his own 
 eyes — has made presents of flowers to Nefert." 
 
 The king smiled, laid his hand on Mena's shoulder, and 
 said, as he looked in his face : ** Your wife will trust you, 
 although you take a strange woman into your tent, and 
 you allow yourself to doubt her because her cousin gives 
 her some flowers! Is that wise or just? I believe you 
 are jealous of the broad-shouldered ruffian that some 
 spiteful wight laid in the nest of the noble Mohar, his 
 father." 
 
 *'No, that I am not," replied Mena, ''nor does any 
 doubt of Nefert disturb my soul ; but it torments me, it 
 nettles me, it disgusts me, that Paaker of all men, whom 
 I loathe as a venomous spider, should look at her and make 
 her presents under my very roof. " 
 
 " He who looks for faith must give faith," said the king. 
 *' And must not I myself submit to accept songs of praise 
 from the most contemptible wretches? Come, smooth 
 your brow ; think of the approaching victory, of our return 
 home, and remember that you have less to forgive Paaker 
 than he to forgive you. Now, pray go and see to the 
 horses, and to-morrow morning let me see you on my 
 chariot full of cheerful courage — as I love to see you." 
 
 Mena left the tent and went to the stables : there he met 
 Rameri, who was waiting to speak to him. The eager boy 
 said that he had always looked up to him and loved 
 him as a brilliant example, but that lately he had been 
 perplexed as to his virtuous fidelity, for he had been in- 
 formed that Mena had taken a strange woman into his 
 tent — he who was married to the fairest and sweetest 
 woman in Thebes. 
 
 " I have spoken to you," he concluded, *' as to a brothei ; 
 for I know that she would die if she heard that you had 
 insulted and disgraced her. Yes, insulted her ; for such 
 
UARDA. 421 
 
 a public breach of faith is an insult to the wife of an 
 Egyptian. Forgive my freedom of speech, but who knows 
 what to-morrow may bring forth — and I would not for 
 worlds go out to battle, thinking evil of you." 
 
 Mena let Rameri speak without interruption, and then 
 answered : 
 
 "You are as frank as your father, and have learned 
 from him to hear the defendant before you condemn him. 
 A strange maiden, the daughter of the kingof theDanaids,* 
 lives in my tent, but I for months have slept at the door 
 of your father's, and I have not once entered my own 
 since she has been there. Now sit down by me, and let 
 me tell you how it all happened. We had pitched the 
 camp before Kadesh, and there was very little for me to 
 do, as Rameses was still laid up with his wound, so I often 
 passed my time in hunting on the shores of the lake. One 
 day I went as usual, armed only with my bow and arrow, 
 and accompanied by my greyhounds, heedlessly followed 
 a hare ; a troop of Danaids fell upon me, bound me with 
 cords, and led me into their camp. There I was led be- 
 fore the judges as a spy, and they had actually condemned 
 me, and the rope was round my neck, when their king 
 came up, saw me, and subjected me to a fresh examina- 
 tion. I told him the facts at full length — how I had fallen 
 into the hands of his people while following up my game, 
 and not as an enemy, and he heard me favorably, and 
 granted me not only life but freedom. He knew me for a 
 noble, and treated me as one, inviting me to feed at his 
 own table, and I swore in my heart, when he let me go, 
 that I would make him some return for his generous 
 conduct. 
 
 "About a month after, we succeeded in surprising the 
 Cheta position, and the Libyan soldiers, among other 
 spoil, brought away the Danaid king's only daughter. I 
 had behaved valiantly, and when we came to the division 
 
 * A people of the Greeks at the time of the Trojan war. They are 
 mentioneci among the nations of the Mediterranean allied against 
 Rameses III. The Dardaneans, inhabitants of the Trojan provinces of 
 Dardania, and whose name was used for the Trojans generally, are 
 mentioned with the people of Pisidia (Pidasa), Mysia (Masa) and Ilion 
 (Iliuna) as allies of the Cheta, in the Epos of Pentaur. It is probable 
 that the princes of the islands near the coast of Asia Minor would form 
 alliances with those of western Asia. 
 
422 
 
 UARDA. 
 
 of the spoils Rameses allowed me to choose first. I laid 
 my hand on the maid, the daughter of my deliverer and 
 host, I led her to my tent, and left her there with her 
 waiting-women till peace is concluded, and I can restore 
 her to her father. " 
 
 ''Forgive my doubts !" cried Rameri, holding out his 
 hand. "Now I understand w^hy the king so particularly 
 inquired whether Nefert believed in your constancy to 
 her." 
 
 "And what was your answer.? " asked Mena. 
 
 " That she thinks of you day and night, and never for 
 an instant doubted you. My father seemed delighted too, 
 and he said to Chamus : * He has won there ! ' " 
 
 "He will grant me some great favor," said Mena, in 
 explanation, "if, when she hears I have taken a strange 
 maiden to my tent, her confidence in me is not shaken. 
 Rameses considers it simply impossible, but I know that I 
 shall win. Why ! she must trust me.*' 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 Before the battle, prayers were offered and victims 
 sacrificed for each division of the army. Images of the 
 gods were borne through the ranks in their festal barks, 
 and miraculous relics were exhibited to the soldiers ; her- 
 alds announced that the high-priest had found favorable 
 omens in the victims offered by the king, and that the 
 haruspices foretold a glorious victory. Each Egyptian 
 legion turned with particular faith to the standard which 
 bore the image of the sacred animal or symbol of the 
 province where it had been levied, but each soldier was 
 also provided with charms and amulets of various kinds ; 
 one had tied to his neck or arm a magical text in a little 
 bag, another the mystic preservative eye, and most of 
 them wore a scarabseus in a finger-ring. Many believed 
 themselves protected by having a few hairs or feathers of 
 some sacred animal, and not a few put themselves under 
 the protection of a living snake or beetle carefully con- 
 
UARDA. 423 
 
 cealed in a pocket of their apron or in their little provision- 
 sack. 
 
 When the king, before whom were carried the images of 
 the divine Triad of Thebes, of Menth, the God of War and 
 of Necheb, the Goddess of Victory, reviewed the ranks, he 
 was borne in a litter on the shoulders of twenty-four 
 noble youths ; at his approach the whole host fell on their 
 knees, and did not rise till Rameses, descending from his 
 position, had, in the presence of them all, burned incense, 
 and made a libation to the gods, and his son Chamus had 
 delivered to him, in the name of the immortals, the sym- 
 bols of life and power. Finally, the priests sang a choral 
 hymn to the Sun-god Ra, and to his son and vicar on 
 earth, the king. 
 
 Just as the troops were put in motion, the paling stars 
 appeared in the sky, which had hitherto been covered with 
 thick clouds ; and this occurrence was regarded as a 
 favorable omen, the priests declaring to the army that, as 
 the coming Ra had dispersed the clouds, so the Pharaoh 
 would scatter his enemies. 
 
 With no sound of trumpet or drum, so as not to arouse 
 the enemy, the foot-soldiers went forward in close order, 
 the chariot warriors, each in his light two-wheeled chariot 
 drawn by two horses, formed their ranks, and the king 
 placed himself at their head. On each side of the gilt 
 chariot in which he stood a case was fixed, glittering with 
 precious stones, in which were his bows and arrows. His 
 noble horses were richly caparisoned; purple housings, 
 embroidered with turquoise beads, covered their backs and 
 necks, and a crown-shaped ornament was fixed on their 
 heads, from which fluttered a bunch of white ostrich 
 feathers. At the end of the ebony pole of the chariot 
 were two small padded yokes, which rested on the necks 
 of the horses, who pranced in front as if playing with the 
 light vehicle, pawed the earth with their small hoofs and 
 tossed and curved their slender necks. 
 
 The king wore a shirt of mail, over which lay the 
 broad purple girdle of his apron, and on his head was the 
 crown of Upper and Lower Egypt ; behind him stood 
 Mena, who, with his left hand, tightly held the reins, and 
 with his right the shield which was to protect his sove- 
 reign in the fight. 
 
424 UARDA. 
 
 The king stood like a storm-proof oak, andMena by his 
 side Hke a sapling ash. 
 
 The eastern horizon was rosy with the approaching sun- 
 rise when they quitted the precincts of the camp ; at this 
 moment the pioneer Paaker advanced to meet the king, 
 threw himself on the ground before him, kissed the earth, 
 and, in answer to the king's question as to why he had 
 come without his brother, told him that Horus was taken 
 suddenly ill. The shades of dawn concealed from the 
 king the guilty color, which changed to sallow paleness, 
 on the face of the pioneer— unaccustomed hitherto to lying 
 and treason. 
 
 " How is it with the enemy ? " asked Rameses. 
 
 "He is aware," rephed Paaker, "that a fight is im- 
 pending, and is collecting numberless hosts in the camps 
 to the south and east of the city. If thou couldst succeed 
 in falling on the rear from the north of Kadesh, while the 
 foot soldiers seize the camp of the Asiatics from the south, 
 the fortress will be thine before night. The mountain 
 path that thou must follow, so as not to be discovered, is 
 not a bad one." 
 
 "Are you ill as well as your brother, man ? " asked the 
 king. " Your voice trembles." 
 
 "I was never better," answered the Mohar. 
 
 "Lead the way," commanded the king, and Paaker 
 obeyed. They went on in silence, followed by the vast 
 troop of chariots through the dewy morning air, first across 
 the plain, and then into the mountain range. The corps 
 of Ra, armed with bows and arrows, preceded them to 
 clear the way ; they crossed the narrow bed of a dry tor- 
 rent, and then a broad valley opened before them, extend- 
 ing to the right and left and inclosed by ranges of mount- 
 ains. 
 
 "The road is good," said Rameses, turning to Mena. 
 "The Mohar has learned his duties from his father, and 
 his horses are capital. Now he leads the way, and points 
 it out to the guards, and then in a moment he is close to 
 us again." 
 
 "They are the golden-bays of my breed," said Mena, 
 and the veins started angrily in his forehead. " My stud- 
 master tells me that Katuti sent them to him before his 
 
UARDA. 
 
 425 
 
 departure. They were intended for Nefert's chariot, and 
 he drives them to-day to defy and spite me/' 
 
 " You have the vrife — let the horses go," said Rameses, 
 soothingly. 
 
 Suddenly a blast of trumpets rang through the morning 
 air ; whence it came could not be seen, and yet it sounded 
 close at hand. 
 
 Rameses started up and took his battle-ax from his 
 girdle, the horses pricked their ears, and Mena exclaimed : 
 
 ''Those are the trumpets of the Cheta ! I know the 
 sound. " 
 
 A closed wagon with four wheels, in which the king's 
 lions were conveyed, followed the royal chariot. 
 
 "Let loose the lions ! " cried the king, who heard an 
 echoing war-cry, and soon after saw the vanguard which 
 had preceded him, and which was broken up by the char- 
 iots of the enemy, flying toward him down the valley 
 again. 
 
 The wild beasts shook their manes and sprang in front 
 of their master's chariot with loud roars. Mena lashed 
 his whip, the horses started forward and rushed with 
 frantic plunges toward the fugitives, who, however, could 
 not be brought to a stand-still, or rallied by the king's 
 voice — the enemy were close upon them, cutting them 
 down. 
 
 ** Where is Paaker?" asked the king. But the pioneer 
 had vanished as completely as if the earth had swallowed 
 him and his chariot. 
 
 The flying Egyptians and the death-dealing chariots 
 of the enemy came nearer and nearer, the ground trembled, 
 the tramp of hoofs and the roar of wheels sounded louder 
 and louder, Hke the roll of a rapidly-approaching storm. 
 
 Then Rameses gave out a war-cry, that rang back 
 from the cliffs on the right hand and on the left like the 
 blast of a trumpet ; his chariot-guard joined in the shout — 
 for an instant the flying Egyptians paused, but only to 
 rush on again with double haste, in the hope of escape and 
 safety ; suddenly the war-cry of the enemy was heard 
 behind the king, mingling with the trumpet-call of the 
 Cheta, and out from a cross-valley, which the king had 
 passed unheeded by — and into which Paaker had disap- 
 peared—c^im* an innumeraljlQ hpst of chariots which, 
 
426 UARDA. 
 
 before the king could retreat, had broken through the 
 Egyptian ranks, and cut him off from the body of his 
 army. Behind him he could hear the roar and shock of 
 the battle, in front of him he saw the fugitives, the 
 fallen, and the enemy growing each instant in numbers 
 and fury. He saw the whole danger, and drew up his 
 powerful form as if to prove whether it were an equal 
 match for such a foe. Then, raising his voice to such a 
 pitch that it sounded above the cries and groans of the 
 fighting men, the words of command, the neighing of the 
 horses, the crash of the overthrown chariots, the dull whirr 
 of lances and swords, their heavy blows on shields and 
 helmets, and the whole bewildering tumult of the battle — 
 with a loud shout he drew his bow, and his first arrow 
 pierced a Cheta chief. 
 
 His lions sprang forward, and carried confusion into 
 the hosts that were crowding down upon him, for many of 
 their horses became unmanageable at the roar of the 
 furious brutes, overthrew the chariots, and so hemmed in 
 the advance of the troops in the rear. Rameses sent arrow 
 after arrow, while Mena covered him w^ith the shield from 
 the shots of the enemy. His horses meanwhile had carried 
 him forward, and he could fell the foremost of the 
 Asiatics with his battle-ax ; close by his side fought 
 Rameri and three other princes ; in front of him were the 
 lions. 
 
 The press was fearful, and the raging of the battle wild 
 and deafening, like the roar of the surging ocean when it 
 is hurled by a hurricane against a rocky coast. 
 
 Mena seemed to be in two places at once, for, while he 
 guided the horses forward, backward, or to either hand, as 
 the exigencies of the position demanded, not one of the 
 arrows shot at the king touched him. His eye was every- 
 where, the shield always ready, and not an eyelash of the 
 young hero trembled, while Rameses, each moment more 
 infuriated, incited his lions with wild war-cries, and with 
 flashing eyes advanced further and further into the enemy's 
 ranks. 
 
 Three arrows aimed, not at the king but at Mena him- 
 self, were sticking in the charioteer's shield, and by chance 
 he saw written on the shaft of one of them the words 
 <* Death to Meiia." 
 
UARDA. 427 
 
 A fourth arrow whizzed past him. His eye followed 
 its flight, and as he marked the spot whence it had 
 come, a fifth wounded his shoulder, and he cried out to 
 the king : 
 
 * * We are betrayed ! Look over there ! Paaker is fight- 
 ing with the Cheta." 
 
 Once more the Mohar had bent his bow, and came so 
 near to the king's chariot that he could be heard exclaim- 
 ing in a hoarse voice, as he let the bowstring snap, 
 "Now I will reckon with you — thief! robber! My 
 bride is your wife, but with this arrow I will win Mena s 
 widow." 
 
 The arrow cut through the air, and fell with fearful 
 force on the charioteer's helmet ; the shield fell from his 
 grasp, and he put his hand to his head, feeling stunned ; 
 he heard Paaker's laugh of triumph, he felt another of his 
 enemy's arrows cut his wrist, and, beside himself with 
 rage, he flung away the reins, brandished his battle-ax, and 
 forgetting himself and his duty, sprung from the chariot 
 and rushed upon Paaker. The Mohar awaited him with 
 uplifted sword ; his lips were white, his eyes bloodshot, his 
 wide nostrils trembled like those of an overdriven horse, 
 and foaming and hissing he flew at his mortal foe. The 
 king saw the two engaged in a struggle, but he could not 
 interfere, for the reins which Mena had dropped were 
 dragging on the ground, and his ungoverned horses, 
 following the lions, carried him madly onward. 
 
 Most of his comrades had fallen, the battle raged all 
 round him, but Rameses stood as firm as a rock, held the 
 shield in front of him, and swung the deadly battle-ax ; he 
 saw Rameri hastening toward him with his horses, the 
 youth was fighting like a hero, and Rameses called out to 
 encourage him : "Well done ! a worthy grandson of Seti ! " 
 
 " I will win a new sword ! " cried the boy, and he cleft 
 the skull of one of his antagonists. But he was soon sur- 
 rounded by the chariots of the enemy ; the king saw the 
 enemy pull down the young prince's horses, and all his 
 comrades — among whom were many of the best warriors 
 — turn their horses in flight. 
 
 Then one of the lions was pierced by a lance, and sank 
 with a dying roar of rage and pain that was heard above 
 all the tumult, The king himself had been grazed by aq 
 
428 UARDA. 
 
 arrow, a sword stroke had shivered his shield, and hi« last 
 arrow had been shot away. 
 
 Still spreading death around him, he saw death closing 
 in upon him, and, without giving up the struggle, he 
 lifted up his voice in fervent prayer, calling on Amon for 
 support and rescue. 
 
 While thus in the sorest need he was addressing himself 
 to the Lords of Heaven, a tall Egyptian suddenly appeared 
 in the midst of the struggle and turmoil of the battle, 
 seized the reins, and sprung into the chariot behind the 
 king, to whom he bowed respectfully. For the first time 
 Rameses felt a thrill of fear. Was this a miracle ? Had 
 Amon heard his prayer ? 
 
 He looked half fearfully round at his new charioteer, 
 and when he fancied he recognized the features of the 
 deceased Mohar, the father of the traitor Paaker, he 
 believed that Amon had assumed this aspect, and had come 
 himself to save him. 
 
 " Help is at hand ! " cried his new companion. " If we 
 hold our own for only a short time longer, thou art saved, 
 and victory is ours." 
 
 Then once more Rameses raised his war-cry, felled a 
 Cheta, who was standing close by him, to the ground wii.h 
 a blow on his skull, while the mysterious supporter by his 
 side, who covered him with the shield, on his part also 
 dealt many terrible strokes. 
 
 Thus some long minutes passed in renewed strife ; then 
 a trumpet sounded above the roar of the battle, and this 
 time Rameses recognized the call of the Egyptians ; from 
 behind a low ridge on his right rushed some thousands of 
 men of the foot-legion of Ptah who, under the command 
 of Horus, fell upon the enemy's flank. They saw their 
 king, and the danger he was in. They flung themselves 
 with fury on the foes that surrounded him, dealing death 
 as they advanced, and putting the Cheta to flight, and 
 soon Rameses saw himself safe, and protected by his fol- 
 lowers. 
 
 But his mysterious friend in need had vanished. He 
 had been hit by an arrow, and had fallen to the earth — a 
 quite mortal catastrophe ; but Rameses still believed that 
 one of the immortals had come to his rescue. 
 
 3vit the king granted no long respite to his horses and 
 
UARDA. 429 
 
 his fighting-men ; he turned to go back by the way by 
 which he had come, fell upon the forces which divided 
 him from the main army, took them in the rear while they 
 were still occupied with his chariot-brigade which was 
 already giving way, and took most of the Asiatics' pris- 
 oners who escaped the arrows and swords of the Egyptians. 
 Having rejoined the main body of the troops, he pushed 
 forward across the plain where the Asiatic horse and 
 chariot-legions were engaged with the Egyptian swords- 
 men, and forced the enemy back upon the river Orontes 
 and the lake of Kadesh. Nightfall put an end to the bat- 
 tle, though early next morning the struggle was renewed. 
 
 Utter discouragement had fallen upon the Asiatic allies, 
 who had gone into battle in full security of victory ; for the 
 pioneer Paaker had betrayed his king into their hands. 
 
 When the Pharaoh had set out, the best chariot-warriors 
 of the Cheta were drawn up in a spot concealed by the 
 city, and sent forward against Rameses through the north- 
 ern opening of the valley by which he was to pass, while 
 other troops of approved valor, in all two thousand five 
 hundred chariots, were to fall upon him from a cross-valley 
 where they took up their position during the night. 
 
 These tactics had been successfully carried out, and not- 
 withstanding the Asiatics had suffered a severe defeat — 
 besides losing some of their noblest heroes, among them 
 Titure, their chancellor, and Chiropasar,* the chronicler of 
 the Cheta king, who could wield the sword as effectively 
 as the pen, and who, it was intended, should celebrate the 
 victory of the allies, and perpetuate its glory to succeeding 
 generations. Rameses had killed one of these with his 
 own hands, and his unknown companion the other, and 
 besides these many other brave captains of the enemy's 
 troops. The king was greeted as a god, when he returned 
 to the camp, with shouts of triumph and hymns of praise. 
 
 Even the temple-servants, and the miserable troops 
 from Upper Egypt — ground down by the long war, and 
 brought over by Ani — were carried away by the universal 
 enthusiasm, and joyfully hailed the hero and king who 
 had successfully broken the stiff necks of his enemies. 
 
 The next duty was to seek out the dead and wounded ; 
 
 * These names and titles occur as those of fallen Chetas on the pylon 
 of the Ramesseum. 
 
430 UARDA. 
 
 among the latter was Mena ; Rameri also was missmgf, 
 but news was brought next day that he had fallen into the 
 hands of the enemy, and he was immediately exchanged 
 for the princess who had been sheltered in Mena'stent. 
 
 Paaker had disappeared ; but the bays which he had 
 driven into the battle were found unhurt in front of his 
 ruined and blood-sprinkled chariot. 
 
 The Egyptians were masters of Kadesh, and Chetasar, 
 the king of the Cheta, sued to be allowed to treat for peace, 
 in his own name and in that of his allies ; but Rameses 
 refused to grant any terms till he had returned to the fron- 
 tier of Egypt. The conquered peoples had no choice, and 
 the representative of the Cheta king — who himself was 
 wounded — and twelve princes of the principal nations 
 who had fought against Rameses, were forced to follow 
 his victorious train. Every respect was shown them, and 
 they were treated as the king himself, but they were none 
 the less his prisoners. The king was anxious to lose no 
 time, for sad suspicion filled his heart ; a shadow hitherto 
 unknown to his bright and genial nature had fallen upon 
 his spirit. 
 
 This was the first occasion on which one of his own 
 people had betrayed him to the enemy. Paaker's deed had 
 shaken his friendly confidence, and in his petition for 
 peace the Cheta prince had intimated that Rameses might 
 find much in his household to be set to rights — perhaps 
 with a strong hand. 
 
 The king felt himself more than equal to cope with Ani, 
 the priests, and all whom he had left in Egypt ; but it 
 grieved him to be obliged to feel any loss of confidence, 
 and it was harder to him to bear than any reverse of fort- 
 une. It urged him to hasten his return to Egypt. 
 
 There was another thing which embittered his victory. 
 Mena, whom he loved as his own son, who understood his 
 lightest sign, who, as soon as he mounted his chariot, was 
 there by his side like a part of himself — had been dis- 
 missed from his office by the judgment of the commander- 
 in-chief, and no longer drove his horses. He himself had 
 been obliged to confirm this decision as just and even mild, 
 for that man was worthy of death who exposed his king to 
 danger for the gratification of his own revenge. 
 
 Rameses had not seen Mena since his struggle with 
 
UARI>A. 431 
 
 Paaker, but he listened anxiously to the news which 
 was brought him of the progress of his sorely wounded 
 officer. 
 
 The cheerful, decided and practical nature of Rameses 
 was averse to every kind of dreaminess or self-absorption, 
 and no one had ever seen him, even in hours of extreme 
 weariness, give himself up to vague and melancholy brood- 
 ing ; but now he would often sit gazing at the ground in 
 rapt meditation, and start like an awakened sleeper when 
 his reverie was disturbed by the requirements of the outer 
 world around him. A hundred times before he had looked 
 death in the face, and defied it as he would any other 
 enemy, but now it seemed as though he felt the cold hand 
 of the mighty adversary on his heart. He could not for- 
 get the oppressive sense of helplessness which had seized 
 him when he had felt himself at the mercy of the unre- 
 strained horses, like a leaf driven by the wind, and then 
 suddenly saved by a miracle. 
 
 A miracle ? Was it really Amon who had appeared in 
 human form at his call ? Was he indeed a son of the gods, 
 and did their blood flow in his veins ? 
 
 The immortals had shown him peculiar favor, but still 
 he was but a man ; that he realized from the pain in his 
 wound and the treason to which he had been a victim. 
 He felt as if he had been respited on the very scaffold. 
 Yes, he was a man like all other men, and so he would still 
 be. He rejoiced in the obscurity that veiled his future, in 
 the many weaknesses which he had in common with those 
 whom he loved, and even in the feeling that he, under the 
 same conditions of life as his contemporaries, had more 
 responsibilities than they. 
 
 Shortly after his victory, after all the important passes 
 and strongholds had been conquered by his troops, he set 
 out for Egypt with his train and the vanquished princes. 
 He sent two of his sons to Bent-Anat at Megiddo, to escort 
 her by sea to Pelusium ; he knew that the commandant of 
 the harbor of that frontier fortress, at the easternmost 
 limit of his kingdom, was faithful to him, and he ordered 
 that his daughter should not quit the ship till he arrived 
 to secure her against any attempt on the part of the regent. 
 A large part of the material of war, and most of the 
 wounded, were also sent to Egypt by sea. 
 
43a UARDA. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Nearly three months had passed since the battle of 
 Kadesh, and to-day the king was expected, on his way 
 home with his victorious army, at Pelusium the strong- 
 hold and key of Egyptian dominion in the east. Splendid 
 preparations had been made for his reception, and the man 
 who took the lead in the festive arrangements with a zeal 
 that was doubly effective from his composed demeanor 
 was no less a person than the Regent Ani. 
 
 His chariot was to be seen everywhere : now he was with 
 the workmen, who were to decorate triumphal arches with 
 fresh flowers ; now with the slaves, who were hanging gar- 
 lands on the wooden lions erected on the road for this great 
 occasion ; now — and this detained him longest — he watched 
 the progress of the immense palace which was being rap- 
 idly constructed of wood on the site where formerly the 
 camp of the Hyksos had stood,* in which the actual cere- 
 mony of receiving the king was to take place, and where 
 the Pharaoh and his immediate followers were to reside. 
 It had been found possible, by employing several thousand 
 laborers, to erect this magnificent structure in a few 
 weeks, f and nothing was lacking to it that could be 
 desired, even by a king so accustomed as Rameses to 
 luxury and splendor. A high exterior flight of steps led 
 from the garden — which had been created out of a waste 
 — to the vestibule, out of which the banqueting-hall 
 opened. 
 
 This was of unusual height, and had a vaulted wooden 
 ceiling, which was painted blue and sprinkled with stars, 
 
 * Pelusium is the Abaris of Manetho, traces of the ancient walls with 
 fort-like projections still remain. According to Strabo its name was de- 
 rived from " pelos," meaning the mud ot marsh city. 
 
 t flerodotus speaks of this wooden palace as having been built at 
 Daphnae; Diodorus at Pelusium. I cannot agree with those who think 
 that the conspiracy of the regent occurred under Rameses III., and not 
 under Rameses II. Sesostris. No doubt there was a petty conspiracy in 
 the time of Rameses III. to place the king's brother on the throne, but 
 these palace-plots are spoken of elsewhere and were not infrequent. 
 
UARDA. 433 
 
 to represent the night heavens, and which was supported 
 on pillars carved, some in the form of date-palms, and 
 some like cedars of Lebanon ; the leaves and twigs con- 
 sisted of artfully fastened and colored tissue ; elegant fes- 
 toons of bluish gauze were stretched from pillar to pillar 
 across the hall, and in the center of the eastern wall they 
 were attached to a large shell-shaped canopy extending 
 over the throne of the king, which was decorated with 
 pieces of green and blue glass, of mother of pearl, of shin- 
 ing plates of mica, and other sparkling objects. 
 
 The throne itself had the shape of a buckler, guarded 
 by two lions, which rested on each side of it and formed 
 the arms, and supported on the backs of four Asiatic cap- 
 tives who crouched beneath its weight. Thick carpets, 
 which seemed to have transported the sea-shore on to the 
 dry land — for their pale blue ground was strewn with a 
 variety of shells, fishes, and water plants — covered the 
 floor of the banqueting-hall, in which three hundred seats 
 were placed by the tables, for the nobles of the kingdom 
 and the officers of the troops. 
 
 Above all this splendor hung a thousand lamps, shaped 
 like lilies and tulips, and in the entrance hall stood a huge 
 basket of roses to be strewn before the king when he 
 should arrive. 
 
 Even the bedrooms for the king and his suite were 
 splendidly decorated ; finely embroidered purple stuffs 
 covered the walls, a light cloud of pale-blue gauze hung 
 across the ceiling, and giraffe skins were laid instead of 
 carpets on the floors. 
 
 The barracks intended for the soldiers and body-guard 
 stood nearer to the city, as well as the stable buildings, 
 which were divided from the palace by the garden which 
 surrounded it. A separate pavilion, gilt and wreathed 
 with flowers, was erected to receive the horses which had 
 carried the king through the battle, and which he had 
 dedicated to the Sun-god. 
 
 The Regent Ani, accompanied by Katuti, was going 
 through the whole of these slightly-built structures. 
 
 ** It seems to me all quite complete," said the widow. 
 
 ''Only one thing I cannot make up my mind about," 
 replied Ani, ''whether most to admire your inventive 
 genius or your exquisite taste. " 
 28 
 
434 UARDA. 
 
 *'0h! let that pass," said Katuti, smiling. ** If any- 
 thing- deserves your praise it is my anxiety to serve you. 
 How many things had to be considered before this struct- 
 ure at last stood complete on this marshy spot where the 
 air seemed alive with disgusting insects — and now it is 
 finished how long will it last ? " 
 
 Ani looked down. " How long ? " he repeated. 
 
 Then he continued : *' There is a great risk already of 
 the plot miscarrying. Ameni has grown cool, and will 
 stir no further in the matter ; the troops on which I 
 counted are perhaps still faithful to me, but much too 
 weak ; the Hebrews, who tend their flocks here, and 
 whom I gained over by liberating them from forced 
 labor, have never borne arms. And you know the people. 
 They will kiss the feet of the conqueror if they have to 
 wade up to them through the blood of their children. 
 Besides — as it happens — the hawk which old Hekt keeps as 
 representing me is to-day pining and sick " 
 
 *^ It will be all the prouder and brighter to-morrow if 
 you are a man ! " exclaimed Katuti, and her eyes sparkled 
 with scorn. "You cannot now retreat. Here in Pelu- 
 sium you welcome Rameses as if he were a god, and he 
 accepts the honor. I know the king ; he is too proud to 
 b6 distrustful, and so conceited that he can never believe 
 himself deceived in any man, either friend or foe. The 
 man whom he appointed to be his regent, whom he desig- 
 nated as the worthiest in the land, he will most unwill- 
 ingly condemn. To-day you still have the ear of the king ; 
 to-morrow he will listen to your enemies, and too much 
 has occurred in Thebes to be blotted out. You are in the 
 position of a lion who has his keeper on one side, and the 
 bars of his cage on the other. If you let the moment pass 
 without striking you will remain in the cage; but if you 
 act and show yourself a lion your keepers are done for ! " 
 
 ** You urge me on and on," said Ani. ''But suppos- 
 ing your plan were to fail, as Paaker's well-considered 
 plot failed?" 
 
 ''Then you are no worse off than you are now," answered 
 Katuti. "The gods rule the elements, not men. Is it 
 likely that you should finish so beautiful a structure with 
 such care only to destroy it ? And we have no accom- 
 plices, and need none." 
 
UARDA. 435 
 
 " But who shall set the brand to the room which Nemu 
 and the slave have filled with straw and pitch ? " asked 
 Ani. 
 
 ** I," said Katuti, decidedly. *' And. one who has noth* 
 ing to look for from Rameses." 
 
 ''Who is that?" 
 
 ''Paaker." 
 
 ** Is the Mohar here ? " asked the regent, surprised. 
 
 "You yourself have seen him." 
 
 *' You are mistaken," said Ani. ** I should-——" 
 
 "Do you recollect the one-eyed, gray-haired black man, 
 who yesterday brought me a letter ? That was my sister's 
 son." 
 
 The regent struck his forehead; "Poor wretch!" he 
 muttered. 
 
 "He is frightfully altered," said Katuti. "He need 
 not have blackened his face, for his own mother would 
 not know him again. He lost an eye in his fight with 
 Mena, who also wounded him in the lungs with a thrust 
 of his sword so that he breathes emd speaks with difficulty, 
 his broad shoulders have lost their flesh, and the fine legs 
 he swaggered about on have shrunk as thin as a negro's. 
 I let him pass as my servant without any hesitation or 
 misgiving. He does not yet know of my purpose, but I 
 am sure that he would help us if a thousand deaths 
 threatened him. For God's sake put aside all doubts and 
 fears ! We will shake the tree for you, if you will only 
 hold out your hand to-morrow to pick up the fruit. 
 Only one thing I must beg. Command the head butler 
 not to stint the wine, so that the guards may give us no 
 trouble. 1 know that you gave the order that only three 
 of the five ships which brought the contents of your wine 
 lofts should be unloaded. I should have thought that 
 the future king of Egypt might have been less anxious to 
 save ! " 
 
 Katuti's lip curled with contempt as she spoke the last 
 words. Ani observed this and said : 
 
 "You think I am timid! Well, I confess I would far 
 rather that much which I have done at your instigation 
 could be undone. I would willingly renounce this new 
 plot, though we so carefully planned it when we built and 
 decorated this palace. I will sacrifice the wine ; there are 
 
436 UARDA. 
 
 jars of wine there that were old in my father's time — but 
 it must be so ! You are right ! Many things have 
 occurred which the king will not forgive ! You are right, 
 you are right — do what seems good to you. I will retire 
 after the feast to the Ethiopian camp." 
 
 "They will hail you as king as soon as the usurpers 
 have fallen in the flames, " cried Katuti. ''If only a few 
 set the example, the others will take up the cry, and even 
 though you have offended Ameni he will attach himself 
 to you rather than to Rameses. Here he comes, and I 
 already see the standards in the distance." 
 
 ''They are coming!" said the regent. "One thing 
 more ! Pray see yourself that the Princess Bent-Anat 
 goes to the rooms intended for her ; she must not be 
 injured ! " 
 
 "Still Bent-Anat?" said Katuti, with a smile full of 
 meaning but without bitterness. "Be easy, her rooms 
 are on the ground floor, and she shall be warned in 
 time." 
 
 Ani turned to leave her ; he glanced once more at the 
 great hall, and said with a sigh, " My heart is heavy — I 
 wish this day and this night were over ! " 
 
 "You are like this grand hall," said Katuti, smiling, 
 "which is now empty, almost dismal ; but this evening, 
 when it is crowded with guests, it will look very different. 
 You were born to be a king, and yet are not a king ; you 
 will not be quite yourself till the crown and scepter are 
 your own." 
 
 Ani smiled too, thanked her, and left her ; but Katuti 
 said to herself : 
 
 * ' Bent-Anat may burn with the rest ; I have no intention 
 of sharing my power with her ! " 
 
 Crowds of men and women from all parts had thronged 
 to Pelusium, to welcome the conqueror and his victorious 
 army on the frontier.* Every great temple-college had 
 sent a deputation to meet Rameses, that from the 
 Necropolis consisting of five members with Ameni and 
 old Gagabu at their head. The white-robed ministers of 
 
 * A fine picture of such a festival, in honor of the father of this king 
 when he returned from Syria, still exists on the north wall of the TempU 
 of Karnak. 
 
UARDA. 437 
 
 the gods marched in solemn procession toward the bridge 
 which lay across the eastern — Pelusiac — arm of the Nile, 
 and led to Egypt proper — the land fertilized by the waters 
 of the sacred stream.* 
 
 The deputation from the temple of Memphis led the 
 procession ; this temple had been founded by Mena, the 
 first king who wore the united crowns of Upper and Lower 
 Egypt, and Chamus, the king's son, was the high priest. 
 The deputation from the not less important temple of 
 Heliopolis came next, and was followed by the representa- 
 tives of the Necropolis of Thebes. 
 
 A few only of the members of these deputations wore 
 the modest white robe of the simple priest ; most of them 
 were invested with the panther-skin which was worn by 
 the prophets. Each bore a staff decorated with roses, 
 lilies and green branches, and many carried censers in the 
 form of a golden arm with incense in the hollow of the 
 hand, to be burnt before the king. Among the deputies 
 from the priesthood at Thebes were several women of 
 high rank, who served in the worship of this god, and 
 among them was Katuti, who by the particular desire of 
 the regent had lately been admitted to this noble sister- 
 hood, t 
 
 Ameni walked thoughtfully by the side of the prophet 
 Gagabu. 
 
 *' How differently everything has happened from what 
 we hoped and intended I " said Gagabu, in a low voice. 
 * ' We are like ambassadors with sealed credentials — who 
 can tell their contents ? " 
 
 ' ' I welcome Rameses heartily and joy fully , " said Ameni. 
 ** After that which happened to him at Kadesh he will 
 come home a very different man to what he was when he 
 set out. He knows now what he owes to Amon. His 
 favorite son was already at the head of the ministers of 
 the temple at Memphis, and he has vowed to build mag- 
 
 * According to Herod»tus, the oracle of Amon declared to the in- 
 habitants of Marca and Apis that all the land watered by the inundations 
 of the Nile was Egypt 
 
 t The so-called Pallakidai, whom we frequently hear of as devoted to 
 the service of Amon but sometimes also to that of the goddesses Isis and 
 Bast. Although they are called Virgins on the tablet of Tanis they were 
 frequently married, and there is no reason why Katuti should not have 
 belonged to them. 
 
438 UARDA. 
 
 nificent temples and to bring splendid offerings to the im- 
 mortals. And Rameses keeps his word better than that 
 smiling simpleton in the chariot yonder." 
 
 ''Still I am sorry for Ani," said Gagabu. 
 
 ** The Pharaoh will not punish him — certainly not," 
 replied the high-priest. ''And he will have nothing to 
 fear from Ani ; he is a feeble reed, the powerless sport of 
 every wind." 
 
 " And yet you hoped for great things from him ! " 
 
 "Not from him, but through him — with us for his 
 guides," replied Ameni, in a low voice, but with emphasis. 
 " It is his own fault that I have abandoned his cause. Oui 
 first wish — to spare the poet Pentaur — he would not re- 
 spect, and he did not hesitate to break his oath, to betray 
 us, and to sacrifice one of the noblest of God's creatures, 
 as the poet was, to gratify a petty grudge. It is harder to 
 fight against cunning weakness than against honest enmity. 
 Shall we reward the man who has deprived the world oi 
 Pentaur by giving him a crown ? It is hard to quit the 
 trodden way, and seek a better — to give up a half-exe- 
 cuted plan and take a more promising one ; it is hard, 1 
 say, for the individual man, and makes him seem fickle in 
 the eyes of others ; but we cannot see to the right hand and 
 the left, and if we pursue a great end we cannot remain 
 within the narrow limits which are set by law and custom 
 to the actions of private individuals. We draw back just 
 as we seem to have reached the goal, we let him fall 
 whom we had raised, and lift him, w^hom we had stricken 
 to the earth, to the pinnacle of glory, in short we profess — 
 and for thousands of years have professed — the doctrine 
 that every path is a right one that leads to the great end 
 of securing to the priesthood the supreme power in the 
 land. Rameses, saved by a miracle, vowing temples to 
 the gods, will for the future exhaust his restless spirit not 
 in battle as a warrior, but in building as an architect. He 
 will make use of us, and we can lead the man who needs 
 us. So I now hail the son of Seti with sincere joy." 
 
 Ameni was still speaking when the flags were hoisted 
 on the standards by the triumphal arches, clouds of dust 
 rolled up on the further shore of the Nile, and the blare of 
 trumpets was heard. 
 
 First came the horses which had carried Rameses 
 
UARDA. 439 
 
 through the fight, with the king himself, who drove them. 
 His eyes sparkled with joyful triumph as the people on 
 the further side of the bridge received him with shouts of 
 joy, and the vast multitude hailed him with wild enthu- 
 siasm and tears of emotion, strewing in his path the spoils 
 of their gardens — flowers, garlands, and palm-branches. 
 
 Ani marched at the head of the procession that went 
 forth to meet him ; he humbly threw himself in the dust 
 before the horses, kissed the ground, and then presented 
 to the king the scepter that had been intrusted to him, 
 lying on a silk cushion. The king received it graciously, 
 and when Ani took his robe to kiss it, the king bent down 
 toward him, and touching the regent s forehead with his 
 lips, desired him to take the place by his side in the 
 chariot and fill the office of charioteer. 
 
 The king's eyes were moist with grateful emotion. He 
 had not been deceived, and he could re-enter the country 
 for whose greatness and welfare alone he lived, as a father, 
 loving and beloved, and not as a master to judge and pun- 
 ish. He was deeply moved as he accepted the greetings 
 of the priests, and with them offered up a public prayer. 
 Then he was conducted to the splendid structure which 
 had been prepared for him, gayly mounted the outside 
 steps, and from the topmost stair bowed to his innumer- 
 able crowd of subjects ; and while he awaited the pro- 
 cession from the harbor which escorted Bent-Anat in her 
 litter, he inspected the thousand decorated bulls and an- 
 telopes which were to be slaughtered as a thank-offering 
 to the gods, the tame lions and leopards, the rare trees in 
 whose branches perched gayly-colored birds, the giraffes, 
 and chariots to which ostriches were harnessed, which all 
 marched past him in a long array. 
 
 Rameses embraced his daughter before all the people ; 
 he felt as if he must admit his subjects to the fullest sym- 
 pathy in the happiness and deep thankfulness which 
 filled his soul. His favorite child had never seemed to 
 him so beautiful as this day, and he realized with deep 
 emotion her strong resemblance to his lost wife.* 
 
 Nefert had accompanied her royal friend as fan-bearer, 
 and she knelt before the king while he gave himself up to 
 
 * Her name was Isis Nefert. 
 
440 UARDA. 
 
 the delight of meeting his daughter. Then he observed 
 her and kindly desired her to rise. *'How much," he 
 said, "I am feeling to-day for the first time! I have 
 already learned that what I formerly thought of as the 
 highest happiness is capable of a yet higher pitch, and I 
 now perceive that the most beautiful is capable of growing 
 to greater beauty ! A sun has grown from Mena's star." 
 
 Rameses, as he spoke, remembered his charioteer ; for 
 a moment his brow was clouded, and he cast down his 
 eyes, and bent his head in thought. 
 
 Bent-Anat well knew this gesture of her father's; it 
 was the omen of some kindly, often sportive suggestion, 
 such as he loved to surprise his friends with. 
 
 He reflected longer than usual ; at last he looked up, 
 and his full eyes rested lovingly on his daughter as he 
 asked her : 
 
 "What did your friend say when she heard that her 
 husband had taken a pretty stranger into his tent, and 
 harbored her there for months ? Tell me the whole truth 
 of it, Bent-Anat." 
 
 ''I am indebted to this deed of Mena's, which must cer- 
 tainly be quite excusable if you can smile when you speak 
 of it," said the princess, *' for it was the cause of his wife's 
 coming to me. Her mother blamed her husband with 
 bitter severity, but she would not cease to believe in him, 
 and left her house because it was impossible to her to 
 endure to hear him blamed. " 
 
 " Is this the fact ? " asked Rameses. 
 
 Nefert bowed her pretty head, and two tears ran down 
 her blushing cheeks. 
 
 " How good a man must he be," cried the king, "on 
 whom the gods bestow such happiness ! My lord cham- 
 berlain, inform Mena that I require his services at dinner 
 to-day — as before the battle at Kadesh. He flung away 
 the reins in the fight when he saw his enemy, and we shall 
 see if he can keep from flinging down the beaker when, 
 with his own eyes, he sees his beloved wife sitting at the 
 table. You ladies will join me at the banquet." 
 
 Nefert sank on her knees before the king ; but he turned 
 from her to speak to the nobles and officers who had come 
 to meet him, and then proceeded to the temple to assist at 
 the slaughter of the victims, and to solemnly renew his 
 
UARDA. 441 
 
 VOW in ihe presence of the priests and the people, to erect 
 a magnificent temple in Thebes as a thank-offering for his 
 preservation from death. He was received with rapturous 
 enthusiasm ; his road led to the harbor, past the tents in 
 which lay the wounded, who had been brought home to 
 Egypt by ship, and he greeted them graciously from his 
 chariot. 
 
 Ani again acted as his charioteer ; they drove slowly 
 through the long ranks of invalids and convalescents, but 
 suddenly Ani gave the reins an involuntary pull, the 
 horses reared, and it was with difficulty that he soothed 
 them to a steady pace again. 
 
 Rameses looked round in anxious surprise, for at the 
 moment when the horses had started, he too had felt an 
 agitating thrill — he thought he had caught sight of his 
 preserver at Kadesh. 
 
 Had the sight of a god struck terror into the horses ? 
 Was he the victim of a delusion ? or was his preserver a 
 man of flesh and blood, who had come home from the 
 battle-field among the wounded ? 
 
 The man who stood by his side, and held the reins, 
 could have informed him, for Ani had recognized Pen- 
 taur, and in his horror had given the reins a perilous 
 jerk. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 The king did not return to the great pavilion till after 
 sundown ; the banqueting-hall, illuminated with a thou- 
 sand lamps, was now filled with the gay crowd of guests 
 who awaited the arrival of the king. AH bowed before 
 him, as he entered, more or less low, each according 
 to his rank ; he immediately seated himself on his throne, 
 surrounded by his children in a wide semicircle, and his 
 officers and retainers all passed before him ; for each he had 
 a kindly word or glance, winning respect from all, and 
 filling every one with joy and hope. 
 
 "The only really divine attributeof my royal condition," 
 said he to himself, "is that it is so easy to a king to make 
 men happy. My predecessors chose the poisonous Urgeus 
 
442 UARDA. 
 
 as the emblem of their authority, for we can cause death 
 as quickly and certainly as the venomous snake ; but the 
 power of giving happiness dwells on our own lips, and in 
 our own. eyes, and we need some instrument when we 
 decree death. " 
 
 ''Take the Uraeus crown from my head," he continued 
 aloud, as he seated himself at the feast. ''To-day I will 
 wear a wreath of flowers." 
 
 During the ceremony of bowing to the king, two men 
 had quitted the hall — the Regent Ani and the high-priest 
 Ameni. 
 
 Ani ordered a small party of the watch to go and seek 
 out the priest Pentaur in the tents of the wounded by the 
 harbor, to bring the poet quietly to his tent, and to guard 
 him there till his return. He still had in his possession 
 the maddening potion, which he was to have given to the 
 captain of the transport-boat, and it was open to him still 
 to receive Pentaur either as a guest or as a prisoner. Pen- 
 taur might injure him, whether Katuti's project failed or 
 succeeded. 
 
 Ameni left the pavilion to go to see old Gagabu, who 
 had stood so long in the heat of the sun during the cere- 
 mony of receiving the conqueror, that he had been at last 
 carried fainting to the tent which he shared with the high- 
 priest, and which was not far from that of the regent. He 
 found the old man much revived, and was preparing to 
 mount his chariot to go to the banquet, when the regent's 
 myrmidons led Pentaur past in front of him. Ameni 
 looked doubtfully at the tall and noble figure of the pris- 
 oner, but Pentaur recognized him, called him by his name, 
 and in a moment they stood together, hand clasped in 
 hand. The guards showed some uneasiness, but Ameni 
 explained who he was. 
 
 The high priest was sincerely rejoiced at the preserva- 
 tion and restoration of his favorite disciple, whom for 
 rnany months he had mourned as dead ; he looked at his 
 manly figure with fatherly tenderness, and desired the 
 guards, who bowed to his superior dignity, to conduct his 
 friend on his responsibility, to his tent instead of to Ani's. 
 
 There Pentaur found his old friend Gagabu, who wept 
 with delight at his safety. All that his master had 
 ^ccvised him of seemed to be forgotten. A^i^^^^i ^^A ^^V^ 
 
UARDA. 
 
 443 
 
 clothed in a fresh white robe — he was never tired of looking 
 at him, and over and over again clapped his hand upon his 
 shoulder, as if he were his own son that had been lost and 
 found again. 
 
 Pentaur was at once required to relate all that had 
 happened to him, and the poet told the story of his cap- 
 tivity and liberation at Mount Sinai, his meeting with 
 Bent-Anat, and how he had fought in the battle of Kadesh, 
 had been wounded by an arrow, and found and rescued 
 by the faithful Kaschta. He concealed only his passion 
 for Bent-Anat, and the fact that he had preserved the 
 king's life. 
 
 ** About an hour ago," he added, ''I was sitting alone 
 in my tent, watching the lights in the palace yonder, when 
 the watch who are outside brought me an order from the 
 regent to accompany them to his tent. What can he want 
 with me ? I always thought he owed me a grudge." 
 
 Gagabu and Ameni glanced meaningly at each other, 
 and the high-priest then hastened away, as already he had 
 remained too long from the banquet. Before he got 
 into his chariot he commanded the guard to return to their 
 posts, and took it upon himself to inform the regent that 
 his guest would remain in his tent till the festival was 
 over ; the soldiers unhesitatingly obeyed him. 
 
 Ameni arrived at the palace before them, and entered 
 the banqueting-hall just as Ani was assigning a place to 
 each of his guests. The high-priest went straight up to 
 him, and, said as he bowed before him : 
 
 " Pardon my long delay, but I was detained by a great 
 surprise. The poet Pentaur is living — as you know. I 
 have invited him to remain in my tent as my guest, and 
 to tend the prophet Gagabu." 
 
 The regent turned pale, he remained speechless and 
 looked at Ameni with a cold, ghastly smile ; but he soon 
 recovered himself 
 
 * * You see, " he said, ' ' how you have injured me by your 
 unworthy suspicions ; I meant to have restored your 
 favorite to you myself to-morrow." 
 
 " Forgive me, then, for having anticipated your plan," 
 said Ameni, taking his seat near the king. 
 
 Hundreds of slaves hurried to and fro loaded with costly 
 dishes, Large vessels of richly wrought gold and silver 
 
444 UARDA. 
 
 were brought into the hall on wheels, and set on the side- 
 boards. Children were perched in the shells and lotus- 
 flowers that hung from the painted rafters ; and from 
 between the pillars, that were hung with cloudy trans- 
 parent tissues, they threw roses and violets down on the 
 company. The sound of harps and songs issued from 
 concealed rooms, and from an altar, six ells high, in the 
 middle of the hall, clouds of incense were wafted into 
 space. 
 
 The king — one of whose titles was "Son of the Sun," — 
 was as radiant as the sun himself His children were once 
 more round him, Mena was his cup-bearer as in former 
 times, and all that was best and noblest in the land was 
 gathered round him to rejoice with him in his triumph 
 and his return. Opposite to him sat the ladies, and 
 exactly in front of him, a delight to his eyes, Bent- 
 Anat and Nefert. His injunction to Mena to hold the 
 wine-cup steadily seemed by no means superfluous, for 
 his looks constantly wandered from the king's goblet to 
 his fair wife, from whose lips he as yet had heard no word 
 of welcome, whose hand he had not yet been so happy as 
 to touch. 
 
 All the guests were in the most joyful excitement. 
 Rameses related the tale of his fight at Kadesh, and the 
 high-priest of Heliopolis observed; *'In later times the 
 poets will sing of thy deeds." 
 
 "Their songs will not be of my achievements," ex- 
 claimed the king, "but of the grace of the Divinity, who 
 so miraculously rescued your sovereign, and gave the 
 victory to the Egyptians over an innumerable enemy." 
 
 " Did you see the god with your own eyes ? and in what 
 form did he appear to you.?" asked Bent-Anat. 
 
 "It is most extraordinary," said the king, "but he 
 exactly resembled the dead father of the traitor Paaker. 
 My preserver was of tall stature, and had a beautiful 
 countenance ; his voice was deep and thrilling, and he 
 swung his battle-ax as if it were a mere plaything." 
 
 Ameni had listened eagerly to the king's words, now he 
 bowed low before him and said, humbly : " If I were 
 younger I myself would endeavor, as was the custom with 
 our fathers, to celebrate this glorious deed of a god and of 
 his sublime son in a song; worthy of this festival ; but melt- 
 
UARDA. 445 
 
 ing tones are no longer mine — they vanish with years, and 
 the ear of the listener lends itself only to the young-. 
 Nothing is wanting to thy feast, most lordly Ani, but a 
 poet, who might sing the glorious deeds of our monarch to 
 the sound of his lute, and yet we have at hand the gifted 
 Pentaur, the noblest disciple of the House of Seti." 
 
 Bent-Anat turned perfectly white, and the priests who 
 were present expressed the utmost joy and astonishment, 
 for they had long thought the young poet, who was highly 
 esteemed throughout Egypt, to be dead. 
 
 The king had often heard of the fame of Pentaur from 
 his sons, and especially from Rameri, and he willingly con- 
 sented that Ameni should send for the poet, who had him- 
 self borne arms at Kadesh, in order that he should sing a 
 song of triumph. The regent gazed blankly and uneasily 
 into his wine-cup, and the high-priest rose to fetch Pentaur 
 himself into the presence of the king. 
 
 During the high-priest's absence more and more dishes 
 were served to the company ; behind each guest stood a 
 silver bowl with rose-water, in which from time to time he 
 could dip his fingers to cool and clean them ; the slaves in 
 waiting were constantly at hand with embroidered napkins 
 to wipe them, and others frequently changed the faded 
 wreaths round the heads and shoulders of the feasters for 
 fresh ones. 
 
 " How pale you are, my child ! " said Rameses, turning 
 to Bent-Anat. *' If you are tired your uncle will no doubt 
 allow you to leave the hall ; though I think you should 
 stay to hear the performance of this much-lauded poet. 
 After having been so highly praised he will find it difficult 
 to satisfy his hearers. But indeed I am uneasy about you, 
 my child ; would you rather go ? " 
 
 The regent had risen and said, earnestly : 
 
 "Your presence has done me honor, but if you are 
 fatigued, I beg you to allow me to conduct you and your 
 ladies to the apartments intended for you." 
 
 "I will stay," said Bent-Anat, in a low but decided 
 tone, and she kept her eyes on the floor, while her heart 
 beat violently, for the murmur of voices told her that Pen- 
 taur was entering the hall. He wore the long white robe 
 of a priest of the temple of Seti, and on his forehead the 
 ostrich feather which marked him as one of the initiated. 
 
446 UARDA. 
 
 He did not raise his eyes till he stood close before the king* ; 
 then he prostrated himself before him, and awaited a sign 
 from the Pharaoh before he rose again. 
 
 But Rameses hesitated a long time, for the youthful 
 figure before him, and the glance that met his own, moved 
 him strangely. Was not this the divinity of the fight ? 
 Was not this his preserver ? Was he again deluded by a 
 resemblance, or was he in a dream ? 
 
 The guests gazed in silence at the spell-bound king and 
 at the poet ; at last Rameses bowed his head. Pentaur 
 rose to his feet, and the bright color flew to his face as 
 close to him he perceived Bent-Anat. 
 
 " You fought at Kadesh ? " asked the king. 
 
 ''As thou sayeth," replied Pentaur. 
 
 * ' You are well spoken of as a poet, " said Rameses, ' ' and 
 we desire to hear the wonderful tale of my preservation 
 celebrated in song. If you will attempt it, let a lute be 
 brought and sing-." 
 
 The poet bowed. ** My gifts are modest," he said, "but 
 I will endeavor to sing of the glorious deed, in the presence 
 of the hero who achieved it, with the aid of the gods." 
 
 Rameses gave a signal, and Ameni caused a large golden 
 harp to be brought in for his disciple. Pentaur lightly 
 touched the strings, leaned his head against the top of the 
 tall bow of the harp for some time lost in meditation ; 
 then he drew himself up boldly, and struck the chords, 
 bringing out a strong and warlike music in broad heroic 
 rhythm. 
 
 Then he began the narrative : how Rameses had pitched 
 his camp before Kadesh, how he ordered his troops, and 
 how he had taken the field against the Cheta, and their 
 Asiatic allies. Louder and stronger rose his tones when he 
 reached the turning-point of the battle, and began to cele- 
 brate the rescue of the king ; and the Pharaoh listened 
 with eager attention as Pentaur sang : 
 
 " Then the king stood forth, and, radiant with courage. 
 He looked like the Sun-god armed and eager for battle. « 
 The noble steeds that bore him into the struggle — 
 
 * Victory to Thebes ' was the name of one, and the other 
 Was called ' contented Nura ' — were foaled in the stables 
 Of him we call ' the elect,' ' the beloved of Araon,' 
 
 * Lord of truth,' the chosen vicar of Ra, 
 
UARDa. 447 
 
 Up sprang the king and threw himself on the foe. 
 The swaying ranks of the contemptible Cheta. 
 He stood alone — alone, and no man with him. 
 As thus the king stood forth all eyes were upon him. 
 And soon he was enmeshed by men and horses, 
 And by the enemy's chariots, two thousand five hundred^ 
 The foe behind hemmed him in and enclosed him. 
 Dense the array of the contemptible Cheta, 
 Dense the swarm of warriors out of Arad, 
 Dense the Mysian host, the Pisidian legions. 
 Every chariot carried three bold warriors, 
 All his foes, and all allied like brothers. 
 
 ** * Not a prince is with me, not a captain, 
 Nof: an archer, none to guide my horses ! 
 Fled the riders ! fled my troops and horse — 
 By my side not one is now left standing.' 
 Thus the king, and raised his voice in prayer. 
 'Great father Amon, I have known Thee well. 
 And can the father thus forget his son ? 
 Have I in any deed forgotten Thee ? 
 Have I done aught without Thy high behest, 
 Or moved or staid against Thy sovereign will ? 
 Great am I — mighty are Egyptian kings — 
 But in the sight of Thy commanding might. 
 Small as the chieftain of a wandering tribe. 
 Immortal Lord, crush Thou this unclean people* 
 Break Thou their necks, annihilate the heathen. 
 
 And I — have I not brought Thee many victims. 
 And filled Thy temple with the captive folk ? 
 And for Thy presence built a dwelling place 
 That shall endure for countless years to come ? 
 Thy gamers overflow with gifts from me. 
 I offered Thee the world to swell Thy glory, 
 And thirty thousand mighty steers have shed 
 Their smoking blood on fragrant cedar piles. 
 Tall gateways, flag-decked masts, I raised to Thee^ 
 And obelisks from Abu I have brought, 
 And built Thee temples of eternal stone. 
 For Thee my ships have brought across the sea 
 The tribute of the nations. This I did — 
 When were such things done in the former time ? 
 
 For dark the fate of him who would rebel 
 Against Thee; though Thy sway is just and mild. 
 My father, Amon — as an earthly son 
 His earthly father — so I call on Thee. 
 Look down from heaven on me, beset by foes. 
 By heathen foes — the folk that know Thee not 
 The nations have combined against Thy son ; 
 I stand alone — alone, and no man with me. 
 My foot and horse are fled, I called aloud 
 And no one heard — in vain I called to them. 
 
448 UARDA. 
 
 And yet I say : the sheltering care of Amoii 
 Is better succor than a million men, 
 Or than ten thousand knights, or than a thousan<i 
 Brothers and sons though gathered into one. 
 And yet I say : the bulwarks raised by men 
 However strong, compared to Thy great works 
 Are but vain shadows, and no human aid 
 Avails against the foe — but thy strong hand. 
 The counsel of Thy lips shall guide my way; 
 I have obeyed whenever Thou hast ruled; 
 I call on Thee — and, with my fame. Thy glory 
 Shall fill the world, from farthest east to west.* 
 
 " Yea, his cry rang forth even far as Hermonthis, 
 And Amon himself appeared at his call; and gave him 
 His hand and shouted in triumph, saying to the Pharaoh : 
 * Help is at hand, O Rameses. I will uphold thee^ 
 I thy father am he who now is thy succor, 
 Bearing thee in my hands. For stronger and readier 
 I than a hundred thousand mortal retainers; 
 I am the Lord of victory loving valor ? 
 I rejoice in the brave and give them good counsel, 
 Ana he whom I counsel certainly shall not miscarry.' 
 
 " Then like Menth, with his right he scattered the arrows, 
 And with his left he swung his deadlv weapon, 
 Felling the foe — as his foes are felled by Baal. 
 The chariots were broken and the drivers scattered, 
 Then was the foe overthrown before his horses. 
 None found a hand to fight : they could not shoot, 
 Nor dared they hurl the spear, but fled at his coming- 
 Headlong into the river."* 
 
 A silence as of the grave reigned in the vast hall. Ra- 
 meses fixed his eyes on the poet, as though he would en- 
 grave his features on his very soul, and compare them 
 with those of another which had dwelt there unforgotten 
 since the day of Kadesh. Beyond a doubt his preserver 
 stood before him. 
 
 Seized by a sudden impulse, he interrupted the poet in 
 the midst of his stirring song, and cried out to the as- 
 sembled guests : 
 
 "Pay honor to this man! for the Divinity chose to 
 appear under his form to save your king when he ' alone, 
 and no man with him,' struggled with a thousand." 
 
 "Hail to Pentaur ! " rang through the hall from the 
 
 * I have availed myself of the help of Prof. Lushington's translation 
 In " Records of the Past," edited by Dr. S. Bnrch.— Trans/ator. 
 
UARDA. 
 
 449 
 
 vast assembly, and Nefert rose and gave the poet the 
 bunch of flowers she had been wearing on her bosom. 
 
 The king nodded approval, and looked inquiringly at 
 his daughter ; Bent-Anat's eyes met his with a glance of 
 intelligence, and with all the simplicity of an impulsive 
 child, she took from her head the wreath that had deco- 
 rated her beautiful hair, went up to Pentaur, and crowned 
 him with it, as it was customary for a bride to crown hef 
 lover before the wedding. 
 
 Rameses observed his daughter's action with some sur- 
 prise, and the guests responded to it with loud cheering. 
 
 The king looked gravely at Bent-Anat and the young 
 priest ; the eyes of all the company were eagerly fixed on 
 the princess and the poet. The king seemed to have for- 
 gotten the presence of strangers, and to be wholly ab- 
 sorbed in thought, but by degrees a change came over his 
 face, it cleared, as a landscape is cleared from the morning 
 mists under the influence of the spring sunshine. When 
 he looked up again his glance was bright and satisfied, 
 and Bent-Anat knew what it promised when it lingered 
 lovingly first on her, and then on her friend, whose head 
 was still graced by the wreath that had crowned hers. 
 
 At last Rameses turned from the lovers, and said to the 
 guests : 
 
 "It is past midnight, and I will now leave you. To- 
 morrow evening I bid you all — and you especially, Pen- 
 taur — to be my guests in this banqueting-hall. Once 
 more fill your cups, and let us empty them — to a long 
 time of peace after the victory which, by the help of the 
 gods, we have won. And at the same time let us express 
 our thanks to my friend Ani, who has entertained us so 
 magnificently, and who has so faithfully and zealously 
 administered the affairs of the kingdom during my 
 absence." 
 
 The company pledged the king, who warmly shook 
 hands with the regent, and then, escorted by his wand- 
 bearers and lords in waiting, quitted the hall, after he had 
 signed to Mena, Ameni, and the ladies to follow him. 
 
 Nefert greeted her husband, but she immediately parted 
 
 from the royal party, as she had yielded to the urgent 
 
 entreaty of Katuti that she should for this night go to her 
 
 mother, to whom she had so much to tell, instead of 
 
 29 
 
4SO UARDA. 
 
 remaining with the princess. Her mother's chariot soon 
 took her to her tent. 
 
 Rameses dismissed his attendants in the anteroom of 
 his apartments ; when they were alone he turned to Bent- 
 Anat, and said, affectionately : 
 
 "What was in your mind when you laid your wreath 
 on the poet's brow ? " 
 
 *'What is in every maiden's mind when she does the 
 like," replied Bent-Anat with trustful frankness. 
 
 "And your father? " asked the king. 
 
 "My father knows that I will obey him even if he 
 demands of me the hardest thing — the sacrifice of all my 
 happiness ; but I believe that he — that you love me fondly, 
 and I do not forget the hour in which you said to me that 
 now my mother was dead you would be father and mother 
 both to me, and you would try to understand me as she 
 certainly would have understood me. But what need 
 between us of so many words. I love Pentaur — with a 
 love that is not of yesterday — with the first perfect love of 
 my heart, and he has proved himself worthy of that high 
 honor. But were he ever so humble, the hand of your 
 daughter has the power to raise him above every prince in 
 the land." 
 
 " It has such power, and you shall exercise it," cried 
 the king. * ' You have been true and faithful to yourself, 
 while your father and protector left you to yourself In 
 you I love the image of your mother, and I learned from 
 her that a true woman's heart can find the right path 
 better than a man's wisdom. Now go to rest, and to- 
 morrow morning put on a fresh wreath, for you will have 
 need of it, my noble daughter. " 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 The cloudless vault of heaven spread over the plain of 
 Pelusium, the stars were bright, the moon threw her calm 
 light over the thousands of tents which shone as white as 
 little hillocks of snow. All was silent : the soldiers and the 
 
tJARt)A. 451 
 
 Egyptians, who had assembled to welcome the king, were 
 now all gone to rest. 
 
 There had been great rejoicing and jollity in the camp ; 
 three enormous vats, garlanded with flowers and overflow- 
 ing with wine, which spilt with every movement of the 
 trucks on which they were drawn by thirty oxen, were 
 sent up and down the little streets of tents, and as the 
 evening closed in, tavern booths were erected in many 
 spots in the camp, at which the regent's servants supplied 
 the soldiers with red and white wine. The tents of the 
 populace were only divided from the pavilion of the 
 Pharaoh by the hastily-constructed garden in the midst of 
 which it stood, and the hedge which inclosed it. 
 
 The tent of the regent himself was distinguished from 
 all the others by its size and magnificence ; to the right of 
 it was the encampment of the different priestly deputa- 
 tions, to the left that of his suite ; among the latter were 
 the tents of his friend Katuti, a large one for her own use, 
 and some smaller ones for her servants. Behind Ani's 
 pavilion stood a tent, enclosed in a wall or screen of 
 canvas, within which old Hekt was lodged ; Ani had 
 secretly conveyed her hither on board his own boat. 
 Only Katuti and his confidential servants knew who it 
 was that lay concealed in the mysteriously shrouded 
 abode. 
 
 While the banquet was proceeding in the great pavilion, 
 the witch was sitting in a heap on the sandy earth of her 
 conical canvas dwelling ; she breathed with difficulty, for 
 a weakness of the heart, against which she had long strug- 
 gled, now oppressed her more frequently and severely; 
 a little lamp of clay burned before her, and on her lap 
 crouched a sick and ruffled hawk ; the creature shivered 
 from time to time, closing the filmy lids of his keen eyes, 
 which glowed with a dull fire when Hekt took him up in 
 her withered hand, and tried to blow some air into his 
 hooked beak, still ever ready to peck and tear her. 
 
 At her feet little Scherau lay asleep. Presently she 
 pushed the child with her foot. ''Wake up," she said, as 
 he raised himself, still half asleep. ''You have young 
 ears — it seemed to me that I heard a woman scream in 
 Ani's tent. Do you hear anything ? " 
 
 "Yes, indeed," exclaimed the little one. "There is a 
 
452 tJARDA. 
 
 noise like crying, and that — that was a scream ! It came 
 from out there, from Nemu's tent." 
 
 "Creep through there," said the witch, " and see what 
 is happening ! " 
 
 The child obeyed. Hekt turned her attention again to 
 the bird, which no longer perched in her lap, but lay on 
 one side, and now could not try to use its talons, when she 
 took him up in her hand. 
 
 ''It is all over with him," muttered the old woman, 
 '' and the one I called Rameses is sleeker than ever. It is 
 all folly, and yet — and yet ! the regent's game is over, 
 and he has lost it. The creature is stretching itself — its 
 head drops — it draws itself up — one more clutch at my 
 dress — now it is dead ! " 
 
 She contemplated the dead hawk in her lap for some 
 minutes, then she took it up, flung it into a corner of the 
 tent, and exclaimed : 
 
 '* Good-bye, King Ani. The crown is not for you ! " 
 Then she went on : ** What project has he in hand now, I 
 wonder ? Twenty times he has asked me whether the 
 great enterprise will succeed ; as if I knew any more than 
 he ! And Nemu too has hinted all kinds of things, though 
 he would not speak out. Something is going on, and I — 
 and I ? There it comes again ! " 
 
 The old woman pressed her hand to her heart and closed 
 her eyes ; her features were distorted with pain ; she did 
 not perceive Scherau's return, she did not hear him call her 
 name, or see that, when she did not answer him, he left 
 her again. For an hour or more she remained uncon- 
 scious, then her senses returned, but she felt as if some 
 ice-cold fluid slowly ran through her veins instead of the 
 warm blood. 
 
 "If I had kept a hawk for myself too," she muttered, 
 " it would soon follow the other one in the corner. If 
 only Ani keeps his word and has me embalmed ! But 
 how can he when he too is so near his end ? They will let 
 me rot and disappear, and there will be no future for me, 
 no meeting with Assa." 
 
 The old woman remained silent for a long time ; at last 
 she murmured hoarsely, with her eyes fixed on the ground : 
 
 "Death brings release, if only from the torment of re- 
 membrance. But there is a life beyond the grave. I do 
 
UARDA. 453 
 
 not, I will not cease to hope. The dead shall all be 
 equally judged, and subject to the inscrutable decrees. 
 Where shall I find him ? Among the blest, or among the 
 damned ? And I ? It matters not ! The deeper the abyss 
 into which they fling me the better. Can Assa, if he is 
 among the blest, remain in bliss, when he sees to what he 
 has brought me ? Oh ! they must embalm me — I cannot 
 bear to vanish, and rot and evaporate into nothing- 
 ness ! " 
 
 While she was still speaking, the dwarf Nemu had come 
 into the tent ; Scherau, seeing the old woman senseless, 
 had run to tell him that his mother was lying on the earth 
 with her eyes shut, and was dying. The witch perceived 
 the little man. 
 
 *' It is well," she said, " that you have come ; I shall be 
 dead before sunrise. " 
 
 " Mother ! " cried the dwarf, horrified, ** you shall live, 
 and live better than you have done till now ! Great things 
 are happening, and for us ! 
 
 "I know, I know," said Hekt. " Go away, Scherau — 
 now, Nemu, whisper in my ear what is doing ? " 
 
 The dwarf felt as if he could not avoid the influence of 
 her eye ; he went up to her and said, softly : 
 
 "The pavilion, in which the king and his people are 
 sleeping, is constructed of wood ; straw and pitch are built 
 into the walls, and laid under the boards. As soon as they 
 are gone to rest we shall set the tinder thing on fire. The 
 guards are drunk and sleeping." 
 
 ''Well thought of," said Hekt. "Did you plan it ? " 
 
 *' I and my mistress," said the dwarf, not without pride. 
 
 * ' You can devise a plot, " said the old woman, ' ' but you 
 are feeble in the working out. Is your plan a secret ? 
 Have you clever assistants ? " 
 
 ''No one knows of it," replied the dwarf, " but Katuti, 
 Paaker, and I ; we three shall lay the brands to the spots 
 we have fixed upon. I am going to the rooms of Bent- 
 Anat ; Katuti, who can go in and out as she pleases, will 
 set fire to the stairs which lead to the upper story, and 
 which fall by touching a spring ; and Paaker to the king's 
 apartments. " 
 
 **Good — good, it may succeed, " gasped the old woman. 
 *' But what was the scream in your tent ? " 
 
454 UARDA. 
 
 The dwarf seemed doubtful about answering ; but Hekt 
 went on : 
 
 ** Speak without fear — the dead are sure to be silent/* 
 
 The dwarf, trembling with agitation, shook off his hesi- 
 tation, and said : 
 
 "I have found Uarda, the grandchild of Pinem, who 
 had disappeared, and I decoyed her here, for she and no 
 other shall be my wife, if Ani is king, and if Katuti makes 
 me rich and free. She is in the service of the Princess 
 Bent-Anat, and sleeps in her anteroom, and she must not 
 be burnt with her mistress. She insisted on going back to 
 the palace, so, as she would fly to the fire like a gnat, and 
 I would not have her risk being burned, I tied her up fast." 
 
 ** Did she not struggle ? " said Hekt. 
 
 ''Like a mad thing," said the dwarf ''But the re- 
 gent's dumb slave, who was ordered by his master to obey 
 me in everything to-day, helped me. We tied up her 
 mouth that she might not be heard screaming. " 
 
 "Will you leave her alone when you go to do your 
 errand ? " 
 
 "Her father is with her ! " 
 
 " Kaschta, the red-beard?" asked the old woman, in 
 surprise. "And did he not break you in pieces like an 
 earthenware pot ? " 
 
 " He will not stir," said Nemu, laughing. "For when 
 I found him, I made him so drunk with Ani's old wine 
 that he lies there like a mummy. It was from him that I 
 learned where Uarda was, and I went to her, and got her 
 to come with me by telling her that her father was very ill, 
 and begged her to go to see him once more. She flew 
 after me like a gazelle, and when she saw the soldier lying 
 there senseless she threw herself upon him, and called for 
 water to cool his head, for he was raving in his dreams of 
 rats and mice that had fallen upon him. As it grew late 
 she wanted to return to her mistress, and we were obliged 
 to prevent her. How handsome she has grown, mother; 
 you cannot imagine how pretty she is." 
 
 " Ay, ay ! " said Hekt. " You will have to keep an eye 
 upon her when she is your wife. " 
 
 " I will treat her like the wife of a noble," said Nemu. 
 " And pay a real lady to guard her. But by this time 
 Katuti has brought home her daughter, Mena's wife ; the 
 
UARDA. 455 
 
 stars are sinking and — there — that was the first signal. 
 When Katuti whistles the third time we are to go to 
 work. Lend me your fire-box, mother, it is better than 
 mine." 
 
 ** Take it," said Hekt. ** I shall never need it again. 
 It is all over with me ! How your hand shakes ! Hold the 
 wood firmly, or you will drop it before you have brought 
 the fire." 
 
 The dwarf bid the old woman farewell, and she let him 
 kiss her without moving. When he was gone, she listened 
 eagerly for any sound that might pierce the silence of the 
 night, her eyes shone with a keen light, and a thousand 
 thoughts flew through her restless brain. When she heard 
 the second signal on Katuti's silver whistle, she sat upright 
 and muttered : 
 
 "That gallows-bird Paaker, his vain aunt, and that 
 villain Ani are no match for Rameses, even when he is 
 asleep. Ani's hawk is dead ; he has nothing to hope for 
 from fortune, and I nothing to hope for from him. But 
 if Rameses — if the real king would promise me — then my 
 poor old body — Yes, that is the thing, that is what I will 
 do." 
 
 She painfully raised herself on her feet with the help 
 of her stick, she found a knife and a small flask which she 
 slipped into her dress, and then, bent and trembling, with 
 a last effort of her remaining strength she dragged herself 
 as far as Nemu's tent. Here she found Uarda bound hand 
 and foot, and Kaschta lying on the ground in a heavy 
 drunken slumber. 
 
 The girl shrank together in alarm when she saw the old 
 woman, and Scherau, who crouched at her side, raised his 
 hands imploringly to the witch. 
 
 * ' Take this knife, boy, " she said to the little one. ' ' Cut 
 the ropes the poor thing is tied with. The papyrus cords 
 are strong,* saw them with the blade." 
 
 While the boy eagerly followed her instructions with all 
 his little might, she rubbed the soldier's temples with an 
 essence which she had in the bottle, and poured a few drops 
 of it between his lips. Kaschta came to himself, stretched 
 
 * Papyrus was used not only for writing on, but also for ropes. The 
 bridge of boats on which Xerxes crossed the Hellespont was fastened 
 with cables of papyrus. 
 
456 UARDA. 
 
 his limbs, and stared in astonishment at the place in which 
 he found himself. She gave him some water, and desired 
 him to drink it, saying, as Uarda shook herself free from 
 her bonds : 
 
 " The gods have predestined you to great things, you 
 white maiden. Listen to what I, old Hekt, am telling 
 you. The king's life is threatened, his and his children's ; 
 I purpose to save them, and I ask no reward but this — 
 that he should have my body embalmed and interred at 
 Thebes. Swear to me that you will require this of him 
 when you have saved him." 
 
 " In God's name what is happening? " cried Uarda. 
 
 *' Swear that you will provide for my burial," said the 
 old woman. 
 
 *' I swear it ! " cried the girl. * ' But for God's sake " 
 
 " Katuti, Paaker, and Nemu are gone to set fire to the 
 palace when Rameses is sleeping, in three places. Do you 
 hear, Kaschta ! Now hasten, fly after the incendiaries, 
 rouse the servants, and try to rescue the king." 
 
 '' Oh, fly, father ! " cried the girl, and they both rushed 
 away in the darkness. 
 
 ** She is honest and w411 keep her word," muttered Hekt, 
 and she tried to drag herself back to her own tent ; but 
 her strength failed her half-way. Little Scherau tried to 
 support her, but he was too weak ; she sank down on the 
 sand, and looked out into the distance. There she saw 
 the dark mass of the palace, from which rose a light that 
 grew broader and broader, then clouds of black smoke, 
 then up flew the soaring flame, and a swarm of glowing 
 sparks. 
 
 " Run into the camp, child," she cried, "cry fire, and 
 wake the sleepers. 
 
 Scherau ran off shouting as loud as he could. 
 
 The old woman pressed her hand to her side, and mut- 
 tered : ** There it is again. In the other world — Assa 
 — ^Assa," and her trembling lips were silent forever. 
 
UARDA. 457 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 Katuti had kept her unfortunate nephew Paaker con- 
 cealed in one of her servants' tents. He had escaped 
 wounded from the battle at Kadesh, and in terrible pain 
 he had succeeded, by the help of an ass which he had pur- 
 chased from a peasant, in reaching, by paths known to 
 hardly any one but himself, the cave where he had pre- 
 viously left his brother. Here he found his faithful 
 Ethiopian slave, who nursed him till he was strong enough 
 to set out on his journey to Egypt. He reached Pelusium, 
 after many privations, disguised as an Ishmaelite camel- 
 driver ; he left his servant, who might have betrayed him, 
 behind in the cave. 
 
 Before he was permitted to pass the fortifications, which 
 lay across the isthmus which parts the Mediterranean from 
 the Red Sea, and which were intended to protect Egypt 
 from the incursions of the nomad tribes of the Chasu, he 
 was subjected to a strict interrogatory, and among other 
 questions was asked whether he had nowhere met with 
 the traitor Paaker, who was minutely described to him. 
 No one recognized in the shrunken, gray-haired, one-eyed 
 camel-driver, the broad-shouldered, muscular, and thick- 
 legged pioneer. To disguise himself the more effectually, 
 he procured some hair-dye * — a cosmetic known in all 
 ages — and blackened himself. Katuti had arrived at 
 Pelusium with Ani some time before, to superintend the 
 construction of the royal pavilion. He ventured to 
 approach her disguised as a negro beggar, with a palm- 
 branch in his hand. She gave him some money and ques- 
 tioned him concerning his native country, for she made it 
 her business to secure the favor even of the meanest ; but 
 though she appeared to take an interest in his answers, 
 she did not recognize him ; now for the first time he felt 
 
 * In my papyrus there are several recipes for the preparation of hair- 
 dye; one is ascribed to the Lady Schesch, the mother of Teta, wife of 
 the first king of Egypt. The earliest of all the recipes preserved to us 
 is a prescription for dyeing the hair, 
 
458 UARDA. 
 
 secure, and the next day he went up to her again, and 
 told her who he was. 
 
 The widow was not unmoved by the frightful alteration 
 in her nephew, and although she knew that even Ani had 
 decreed that any intercourse with the traitor was to be 
 punished by death, she took him at once into her service, 
 for she had never had greater need than now to employ 
 the desperate enemy of the king and of her son-in law. 
 
 The mutilated, despised and hunted man kept himself 
 far from the other servants, regarding the meaner folk 
 with undiminished scorn. He thought seldom, and only 
 vaguely, of Katuti's daughter, for love had quite given 
 place to hatred, and only one thing now seemed to him 
 worth living for — the hope of working with others to 
 cause his enemies' downfall, and of being the instrument 
 of their death ; so he offered himself to the widow a will- 
 ing and welcome tool, and the dull flash in his uninjured 
 eye, when she set him the task of setting fire to the king's 
 apartments, shov/ed her that in the Mohar she had found 
 an ally she might depend on to the uttermost. 
 
 Paaker had carefully examined the scene of his exploit 
 before the king's arrival. Under the windows of the 
 king's rooms, at least forty feet from the ground, was a 
 narrow parapet resting on the ends of the beams which 
 supported the rafters on which lay the floor of the upper 
 story in which the king slept. These rafters had been 
 smeared with pitch, and straw had been laid between 
 them, and the pioneer would have known how to find the 
 opening where he was to put in the brand even if he had 
 been blind of both eyes. 
 
 When Katuti first sounded her whistle he slunk to his 
 post ; he was challenged by no watchman, for the few 
 guards who had been placed in the immediate vicinity of 
 the pavilion had all gone to sleep under the influence of 
 the regent's wine. Paaker climbed up to about the height 
 of two men from the ground by the help of the ornamental 
 carving on the outside wall of the palace ; there a rope- 
 ladder was attached ; he clambered up this, and soon 
 stood on the parapet, above which were the windows of 
 the king's rooms, and below which the fire was to be laid. 
 
 Rameses' room was brightly illuminated. Paaker could 
 see into it without being seen, and could hear every word 
 
UARDA. 459 
 
 that was spoken within. The king was sitting in an arm- 
 chair, and looked thoughtfully at the ground ; before him 
 stood the regent, and Mena stood by his couch, holding 
 in his hand the king's sleeping-robe. 
 
 Presently Rameses raised his head, and said, as he 
 offered his hand with frank affection to Ani : 
 
 " Let me bring this glorious day to a worthy end, cousin. 
 I have found you my true and faithful friend, and I had 
 been in danger of believing those over-anxious counselors 
 who spoke evil of you. I am never prone to distrust, but 
 a number of things occurred together that clouded my 
 judgment, and I did you injustice. I am sorry, sincerely 
 sorry ; nor am 1 ashamed to apologize to you for having 
 for an instant doubted your good intentions. You are my 
 good friend — and I will prove to you that I am yours. 
 There is my hand — take it ; and all Egypt shall know that 
 Rameses trusts no man more implicitly than his Regent 
 Ani. I will ask you to undertake to be my guard of 
 honor to-night — we will share this room. I sleep here ; 
 when I lie down on my couch take your place on the 
 divan yonder." 
 
 Ani had taken Rameses* offered hand, but now he turned 
 pale as he looked down. Paaker could see straight into 
 his face, and it was not without difficulty that he sup- 
 pressed a scornful laugh. 
 
 Rameses did not observe the regent's dismay, for he had 
 signed to Mena to come closer to him. 
 
 " Before I sleep," said the king, " 1 will bring matters 
 to an end with you too. You have put your wife's con- 
 stancy to a severe test, and she has trusted you with a 
 child-like simplicity that is often wiser than the arguments 
 of sages, because she loved you honestly, and is herself 
 incapable of guile. I promised you that I would grant 
 you a wish if your faith in her was justified. Now tell me 
 what is your will ? " 
 
 Mena fell on his knees and covered the king's robe with 
 kisses. 
 
 *' Pardon ! " he exclaimed. *' Nothing but pardon. My 
 crime was a heavy one, I know ; but I was driven to it by 
 scorn and fury — it was as if I saw the dishonoring hand 
 of Paaker stretched out to seize my innocent wife, who^ 
 as I now know, loathes him as a toad " 
 
400 UARDA. 
 
 *' What was that ? " exclaimed the king. " I thought I 
 heard a groan outside." 
 
 He went up to the window and looked out, but he did 
 not see the pioneer, who watched every motion of the 
 king, and who, as soon as he perceived that his involun- 
 tary sigh of anguish had been heard, stretched himself 
 close under the balustrade. Mena had not risen from his 
 knees when the king once more turned to him. 
 
 ** Pardon me," he said again. **Let me be near thee 
 again as before, and drive thy chariot. I live only through 
 thee, I am of no worth but through thee, and by thy 
 favor, my king, my lord, my father ! " 
 
 Rameses signed to his favorite to rise. **Your request 
 was granted," said he, ''before you made it. I am still 
 in your debt on your fair wife's account. Thank Nefert — 
 not me, and let us give thanks to the immortals this day 
 with especial favor. What has it not brought forth for 
 us ! He has restored to me you two friends, whom I re- 
 garded as lost to me, and his given me in Pentaur another 
 son. " 
 
 A low whistle sounded through the night air ; it was 
 Katuti's last signal. 
 
 Paaker blew up the tinder, laid it in the hole under the 
 parapet, and then, unmindful of his own danger, raised 
 himself to listen for any further words. 
 
 *' I entreat thee," said the regent, approaching Rameses, 
 "to excuse me. I fully appreciate thy favors, but the 
 labors of the last few days have been too much for me ; I 
 can hardly stand on my feet, and the guard of honor " 
 
 **Mena will watch," said the king. ''Sleep in all 
 security, cousin. I will have it known to all men that I 
 have put away from me all distrust of you. Give me 
 my night-robe, Mena. Nay — one thing more I must tell 
 you. Youth smiles on the young, Ani. Bent-Anat has 
 chosen a worthy husband, my preserver, the poet Pentaur. 
 He was said to be a man of humble origin, the son of a 
 gardener of the House of Seti ; and now what do I learn 
 through Ameni ? He is the true son of the dead Mohar, 
 and the foul traitor Paaker is the gardener's son. A witch 
 in the Necropolis changed the children. This is the best 
 news of all that has reached me on this propitious day, for 
 the Mohar'3 widow, the noble Setchem, ha^ been brought 
 
UARDA. 461 
 
 here, and I should have been obliged to choose between 
 two sentences on her as the mother of the villain who has 
 escaped us. Either I must have sent her to the quarries, 
 
 or have had her beheaded before all the people For 
 
 God's sake, what is that ? " 
 
 They heard a loud cry in a man's voice, and at the same 
 instant a noise as if some heavy mass had fallen to the 
 ground from a great height. Rameses and Mena hastened 
 to the window, but started back, for they were met by a 
 cloud of smoke. 
 
 " Call the watch 1 " cried the king. 
 
 *'Go, you," exclaimed Mena to Ani. "I will not leave 
 the king again in danger." 
 
 Ani fled away like an escaped prisoner, but he could 
 not get far, for, before he could descend the stairs to the 
 lower story, they fell in before his very eyes ; Katuti, after 
 she had set fire to the interior of the palace, had made 
 them fall by one blow of a hammer. Ani saw her robe as 
 she herself fled, clenched his fist with rage as he shouted 
 her name, and then, not knowing what he did, rushed 
 Vieadlong through the corridor into which the different 
 -foyal apartments opened. 
 
 The fearful crash of the falling stairs brought the king 
 and Mena also out of the sleeping-room. 
 
 *' There lie the stairs ! that is serious ! " said the king, 
 coolly ; then he went back into his room, and looked out of 
 a w^indow to estimate the danger. Bright flames were 
 already bursting from the northern end of the palace, and 
 gave the gray dawn the brightness of day ; the southern 
 wing of the pavilion was not yet on fire. Mena observed 
 the parapet from Which Paaker had fallen to the ground, 
 tested its strength, and found it firm enough to bear sev- 
 eral persons. He looked round, particularly at the wing 
 not yet gained by the flames, and exclaimed in a loud 
 voice : 
 
 "The fire is intentional! It is done on purpose. See 
 there ! a man is squatting down and pushing a brand into 
 the wood-work." 
 
 He leaped back into the room, which was now filling 
 with smoke, snatched the king's bow and quiver, which 
 he himself had hung up at the bed-head, took careful aim, 
 and with one cry the incendiary fell dead. 
 
462 UARDA. 
 
 A few hours later the dwarf Nemii was found with the 
 charioteer's arrow through his heart. After setting fire 
 to Bent-Anat's rooms, he had determined to lay a brand 
 to the wing of the palace -where, with the other princes, 
 Uarda's friend Rameri was sleeping. 
 
 Mena had again leaped out of window, and was estimat- 
 ing the height of the leap to the ground ; the Pharaoh's 
 room was getting more and more filled with smoke, and 
 flames began to break through the seams of the boards. 
 Outside the palace as well as within every one was waking 
 up to terror and excitement. 
 
 '* Fire ! fire ! an incendiary ! Help ! Save the king ! " 
 cried Kaschta, who rushed on, followed by a crowd of 
 guards whom he had roused ; Uarda had flown to call 
 Bent-Anat, as she knew the way to her room. The king 
 had got on to the parapet outside the window with Mena, 
 and was calling to the soldiers. 
 
 " Half of you get into the house, and first save the 
 princess ; the other half keep the fire from catching the 
 south wing. I will try to get there." 
 
 But Nemu's brand had been effectual, the flames 
 flared up, and the soldiers strained every nerve to conquer 
 them. Their cries mingled with the crackling and snap- 
 ping of the dry wood, and the roar of the flames, with the 
 trumpet calls of the awakening troops, and the beating of 
 drums. The young princes appeared at a window ; they 
 had tied their clothes together to form a rope, and one by 
 one escaped down it. 
 
 Rameses called to them with words of encouragement, 
 but he himself was unable to take any means of escape, 
 for though the parapet on which he stood was toleraljly 
 wide, and ran round the whole of the building, at about 
 every six feet it was broken by spaces of about ten paces. 
 The fire was spreading and growing, and glowing sparks 
 flew round him and his companion like chaff from the 
 winnowing fan. 
 
 ** Bring some straw and make a heap below ! " shouted 
 Rameses, above the roar of the conflagration. " There is 
 no escape but by a leap down." 
 
 The flames rushed out of the windows of the king's 
 room, it was impossible to return to it, but neither the 
 king or Mena lost his self-possession. When Mena saw 
 
UARDA. 463 
 
 the twelve princes descending to the ground, he shouted 
 through his hands, using them as a speaking-trumpet, and 
 called to Rameri, who was about to slip down the rope 
 they had contrived, the last of them all : 
 
 "Pull up the rope, and keep it from injury till I 
 come. " 
 
 Rameri obeyed the order, and before Rameses could in- 
 terfere. Men a had sprung across the space which divided 
 one piece of the balustrade from another. The king's 
 blood ran cold as Mena, a second time, ventured the 
 frightful leap ; one false step and he must meet with the 
 same fearful death as his enemy Paaker. 
 
 While the by-standers watched him in breathless silence 
 — while the crackling of the wood, the roar of the flames, 
 and the dull thump of falling timber mingled with the 
 distant chant of the procession of priests who were now 
 approaching the burning pile, Nefert, roused by little 
 Scherau, knelt on the bare ground in fervent and passion- 
 ate prayer to the saving gods. She watched every move- 
 ment of her husband, and she bit her lips till they bled not 
 to cry out. She felt that he was acting bravely and nobly, 
 and that he was lost if even for an instant his attention 
 were distracted from his perilous footing. Now he had 
 reached Rameri and bound one end of the rope made out 
 of cloaks and handkerchiefs round his body ; then he gave 
 the other end to Rameri, who held fast to the window-sill, 
 and prepared once more to spring. Nefert saw him ready 
 to leap, she pressed her hands upon her lips to repress a 
 scream, she shut her eyes, and when she opened them 
 again he had accomplished the first leap, and at the 
 second the gods preserved him from falling ; at the third 
 the king held out his hand to him and saved him from a 
 fall. Then Rameses helped him to unfasten the rope 
 from round his waist to fasten it to the end of a beam. 
 
 Rameri now loosened the other end and followed Mena's 
 example ; he, too, practiced in athletic exercises in the 
 school of the House of Seti, succeeded in accomplishing 
 the three tremendous leaps, and soon the king stood in 
 safety on the ground. Rameri followed him, and then 
 Mena, whose faithful wife went to meet him and wiped 
 Ihe sweat from his throbbing temples. 
 
 Rameses hurried to the north wing, where Bent-Anat 
 
464 UARDA. 
 
 had her apartments ; he found her safe indeed, but wring- 
 ing her hands, for her young favorite Uarda had disap- 
 peared in the flames after she had roused her and saved 
 her with her father's assistance. 
 
 Kaschta ran up and down in front of the burning 
 pavilion, tearing his hair ; now calling his child in tones 
 of anguish, now holding his breath to listen for an answer. 
 To rush at random into the immense burning building 
 would have been madness. The king observed the un- 
 happy man and set him to lead the soldiers, whom he had 
 commanded to hew down the wall of Bent-Anat's room 
 so as to rescue the girl who might be within. Kaschta 
 seized an ax and raised it to strike. 
 
 But he thought that he heard blows from within against 
 one of the shutters of the ground floor, which by Katuti's 
 orders had been securely closed ; he followed the sound — 
 he was not mistaken ; the knocking could be distinctly 
 heard. 
 
 With all his might he struck the edge of the ax between 
 the shutter and the wall ; a stream of smoke poured out of 
 the new outlet, and before him, enveloped in its black 
 clouds, stood a staggering man, who held Uarda in his 
 arms. Kaschta sprang forward into the midst of the smoke 
 and sparks and snatched his daughter from the arms of 
 her preserver, who fell half-smothered on his knees. 
 He rushed out into the air with his light and precious 
 burden, and as he pressed his lips to her closed eyelids his 
 eyes were wet, and there rose up before him the image 
 of the woman who bore her, the wife that had stood as 
 the solitary green palm-tree in the desert waste of his 
 life. But only for a few seconds — Bent-Anat herself took 
 Uarda into her care and he hastened back to the burning 
 house. 
 
 He had recognized his daughter's preserver ; it was the 
 physician Nebsecht, who had not quitted the princess 
 since their meeting on Sinai, and had found a place among 
 her suite as her personal physician. 
 
 The fresh air had rushed into the room through the 
 opening of the shutter, the broad flames streamed out of 
 the windows, but still Nebsecht was alive, for his groans 
 could be heard through the smoke. Once more Kaschta 
 rushed toward the window ; the by-standers could see that 
 
UARDA. 465 
 
 the ceiling of the room was about to fall, and called out to 
 warn him, but he was already astride the sill. 
 
 *'I signed myself his slave with my blood," he 
 cried. "Twice he has saved my child, and now I will 
 pay my debt," and he disappeared into the burning 
 room. 
 
 He soon reappeared with Nebsecht in his arms, whose 
 robe was already scorched by the flames. He could be 
 seen approadhing the window with his heavy burden ; a 
 hundred soldiers, and with them Pentaur, pressed for- 
 ward to help him, and took the senseless leech out of the 
 arms of the soldier, who lifted him over the window-sill. 
 
 Kaschta was on the point of following him, but before 
 he could swing himself over, the beams above gave way 
 and fell, burying the brave son of the paraschites. 
 
 Pentaur had his insensible friend carried to his tent, 
 and helped the physicians to bind up his burns. 
 
 When the cry of fire had been first raised, Pentaur was 
 sitting in earnest conversation with the high-priest ; he 
 had learned that he was not the son of a gardener, but a 
 descendant of one of the noblest families in the land. 
 The foundations of life seemed to be subverted under his 
 feet ; Ameni's revelation lifted him out of the dust and 
 set him on the marble floor of a palace ; and yet Pentaur 
 was neither excessively surprised nor inordinately re- 
 joiced ; he was so well used to find his joys and sufferings 
 depend on the man within him, and not on the circum- 
 stances without. 
 
 As soon as he heard the cry of fire he hastened to the 
 burning pavilion and when he saw the king's danger, he 
 set himself at the head of a number of soldiers who had 
 hurried up from the camp, intending to venture an 
 attempt to save Rameses from the inside of the house. 
 Among those who followed him in this hopeless effort was 
 Katuti's reckless son, who had distinguished himself by 
 his valor before Kadesh, and who hailed this opportunity 
 of again proving his courage. Falling walls choked up 
 the way in front of these brave adventurers ; but it was 
 not till several had fallen choked or struck down by 
 burning logs that they made up their minds to retire ; one 
 of the first that was killed was Katuti's son, Nefert's 
 brother. 
 30 
 
466 UARDA. 
 
 Uarda had been carried into the nearest tent. Her 
 pretty head lay in Bent-Anat's lap, and Nefert tried to 
 restore her to animation by rubbing her temples with 
 strong- essences. Presently the girl's lips moved : with 
 returning consciousness all she had seen and suffered 
 during the last hour or two recurred to her mind ; she felt 
 herself rushing through the camp with her father, hurry- 
 ing through the corridor to the princess* rooms, while he 
 broke in the doors closed by Katuti's orders ; she saw Bent- 
 Anat as she roused her, and conducted her to safety ; she 
 remembered her horror when, just as she reached the 
 door, she discovered that she had left in her chest her 
 jewel, the only relic of her lost mother, and her rapid 
 return, which was observed by no one but by the leech 
 Nebsecht. 
 
 Again she seemed to live through the anguish she had 
 felt till she once more had the trinket safe in her bosom, 
 the horror that fell upon her when she found her escape 
 impeded by smoke and flames, and the weakness which 
 overcame her ; and she felt as if the strange white-robed 
 priest once more raised her in his arms. She remembered 
 the tenderness of his eyes as he looked into hers, and she 
 smiled half gratefully but half displeased at the tender kiss 
 which had been pressed on her lips before she found her- 
 self in her father's strong arms. 
 
 ' ' How sweet she is ! " said Bent-Anat. * * I believe poor 
 Nebsecht is right in saying that her mother was the 
 daughter of some great man among the foreign people. 
 Look what pretty little hands and feet, and her skin is as 
 clear as Phoenician glass. " 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 While the friends were occupied in restoring Uarda to 
 animation, and in taking affectionate care of her, Katuti 
 was walking restlessly backward and forward in her 
 tent. 
 
 Soon after she had slipped out for the purpose of setting 
 fire to the palace, Scherau's cry had waked up Nefert, and 
 
UARDA. 467 
 
 Katuti found her daughter's bed empty when, with black- 
 ened hands and limbs trembling- v/ith agitation, she came 
 back from her criminal task. 
 
 Now she waited in vain for Nemu and Paaker. 
 
 Her steward, whom she sent on repeated messages of 
 inquiry whether the regent had returned, constantly 
 brought back a negative answer, and added the informa- 
 tion that he had found the body of old Hekt lying on the 
 open ground. The widow's heart sank with fear ; she 
 was full of dark forebodings while she listened to the 
 shouts of the people engaged in putting out the fire, 
 the roll of drums, and the trumpets of the soldiers call- 
 ing each other to the help of the king. To these sounds 
 now was added the dull crash of falling timbers and 
 walls. 
 
 A faint smile played upon her thin lips, and she thought 
 to herself : ** There — that perhaps fell on the king, and 
 my precious son-in-law, who does not deserve such a fate 
 — if we had not fallen into disgrace, and if since the occur- 
 rences before Kadesh he did not cling to his indulgent 
 lord as a calf follows a cow." 
 
 She gathered fresh courage, and fancied she could hear 
 the voice of Ethiopian troops hailing the regent as king — 
 could see Ani decorated with the crown of Upper and 
 Lower Egypt, seated on Rameses' throne, and herself by 
 his side in rich though unpretending splendor. She 
 pictured herself with her son and daughter as enjoying 
 Mena's estate, freed from debt and increased by Ani's gen- 
 erosity, and then a new, intoxicating hope came into her 
 mind. Perhaps already at this moment her daughter was 
 a widow, and why should she not be so fortunate as to 
 induce Ani to select her child, the prettiest woman in 
 Thebes, for his wife ? Then she, the mother of the queen, 
 would be indeed unimpeachable and all-powerful. She 
 had long since come to regard the pioneer as a tool to be 
 cast aside, nay, soon to be utterly destroyed ; his wealth 
 might probably at some future time be bestowed upon her 
 son, who had distinguished himself at Kadesh, and whom 
 Ani must before long promote to be his charioteer or the 
 commander of the chariot warriors. 
 
 Flattered by these fancies, she forgot every care as she 
 walked faster and faster to and fro in her tent Suddenly 
 
468 UARDA. 
 
 the steward, whom she had this time sent to the very- 
 scene of the fire, rushed into the tent, and with every 
 token of terror broke to her the news that the king and 
 his charioteer were hanging in mid-air on a narrow wooden 
 parapet, and that unless some miracle happened they 
 must inevitably be killed. It was said that incendiaries 
 had occasioned the fire, and he, the steward, had hastened 
 forward to prepare her for evil news as the mangled body 
 of the pioneer, which had been identified by the ring on 
 his finger, and the poor little corpse of Nemu, pierced 
 through by an arrow, had been carried past him. 
 
 Katuti was silent for a moment. 
 
 *'And the king's sons?" she asked, with an anxious 
 sigh. 
 
 ''The gods be praised," replied the steward, '' they suc- 
 ceeded in letting themselves down to the ground by a 
 rope made of their garments knotted together, and some 
 were already safe when I came away." 
 
 Katuti's face clouded darkly ; once more she sent forth 
 her messenger. The minutes of his absence seemed like 
 days ; her bosom heaved in stormy agitation, then for a 
 moment she controlled herself, and again her heart seemed 
 to cease beating — she closed her eyes as if her anguish of 
 anxiety was too much for her strength. At last, long 
 after sunrise, the steward reappeared. 
 
 Pale, trembling, hardly able to control his voice, he 
 threw himself on the ground at her feet, crying out : 
 
 *'Alas ! this night! prepare for the worst, mistress! 
 May Isis comfort thee, who saw thy son fall in the service 
 of his king and father ! May Amon, the great god of 
 Thebes, give thee strength ! Our pride, our hope, thy son 
 is slain, killed by a falling beam." 
 
 Pale and still as if frozen, Katuti shed not a tear ; for a 
 minute she did not speak, then she asked in a dull tone : 
 
 ** And Rameses ? " 
 
 **The gods be praised ! " answered the servant, *' he is 
 safe — rescued by Mena I " 
 
 ''And Ani?" 
 
 "Burned! — they found his body disfigured out of all 
 recognition ; they knew him again by the jewels he wore 
 at the banquet." 
 
 Katuti gazed into vacancy, and the steward started 
 
UARDA. 469 
 
 bsick as from a mad woman when, instead of bursting into 
 tears, she clenched her small jeweled hands, shook her fists 
 in the air,' and broke into loud, wild laughter; then, 
 startled at the sound of her own voice, she suddenly 
 became silent and fixed her eyes vacantly on the ground. 
 She neither saw nor heard that the captain of the watch, 
 who was called ''the eyes and ears of the king," had come 
 in through the door of her tent, followed by several officers 
 and a scribe ; he came up to her, and called her by her 
 name. Not till the steward timidly touched her did she 
 collect her senses like one suddenly roused from deep sleep. 
 
 "What are you doing in my tent?" she asked the 
 officer, drawing herself up haughtily. 
 
 **In the name of the chief judge of Thebes," said the 
 captain of the watch, solemnly, "I arrest you, and hail 
 you before the high court of ji^stice, to defend yourself 
 against the grave and capital charges of high treason, 
 attemQt*^d regicide, and incendiarism." 
 
 "I am ready," said the widow, and a scornful smile 
 curled her lips. Then with her usual dignity she pointed 
 to a seat and said : 
 
 ** Be seated while I dress." 
 
 The officer bowed, but remained standing at the door of 
 the tent while she arranged her black hair, set her diadem 
 on her brow, opened her little ointment-chest, and took 
 from it a small phial of the rapid poison strychnine, which 
 some months before she had procured through Nemu from 
 the old witch Hekt. 
 
 * ' My mirror !" she called to a maid-servant, who squatted 
 in a corner of the tent. She held the metal mirror 
 so as to conceal her face from the captain of the watch, 
 put the little flask to her lips and emptied it at one 
 mouthful. The mirror fell from her hand, she staggered, 
 a deadly convulsion seized her — the officer rushed forward, 
 and while she fixed her dying look upon him she said : 
 
 *'My game is lost, but Ameni — tell Ameni that he will 
 not win either." 
 
 She fell forward, murmured Nefert's name, struggled 
 convulsively, and was dead. 
 
 When the draught of happiness which the gods prepare 
 for some few men seems to flow clearest and purest, Fate 
 rarely fails to infuse into it some drop of bitterness. 
 
470 UARDA. 
 
 And yet we should not therefore disdain it, for it is that 
 very drop of bitterness which warns us to drink of the joys 
 of life thankfully, and in moderation. 
 
 The perfect happiness of Mena and Nefert was troubled 
 by the fearful death of Katuti, but both felt as if they now 
 for the first time knew the full strength of their love for 
 each other. Mena had to make up to his wife for the loss 
 of mother and brother, and Nefert to restore to her hus- 
 band much that he had been robbed of by her relatives, 
 and they felt that they had met again not merely for 
 pleasure, but to be to each other a support and a 
 consolation. 
 
 Rameses quitted the scene of the fire full of gratitude to 
 the gods who had shown such grace to him and his. He 
 ordered numberless steers to be sacrificed, and thanks- 
 giving festivals to be held throughout the land ; but he 
 was cut to the heart by the betrayal to which he had fallen 
 a victim. He longed — as he always did in moments when 
 the balance of his mind had been disturbed — for an hour 
 of solitude, and retired to the tent which had been hastily 
 erected for him. He could not bear to enter the splendid 
 pavilion which had been Ani's ; it seemed to him infested 
 with the leprosy of falsehood and treason. 
 
 For an hour he remained alone, and weighed the worst 
 he had suffered at the hands of men against that which was 
 good and cheering, and he found that the good far out- 
 weighed the evil. He vividly realized the magnitude of 
 his debt of gratitude, not to the immortals only, but also 
 to his earthly friends, as he recalled every moment of this 
 morning's experience. 
 
 * * Gratitude, " he said to himself, * ' was impressed on you 
 by your mother ; you yourself have taught your children 
 to be grateful. Piety is gratitude to the gods, and he only 
 is really generous who does not forget the gratitude he 
 owes to men." 
 
 He had thrown off all bitterness of feeling when he sent 
 for Bent-Anat and Pentaur to be brought to his tent. He 
 made his daughter relate at full length how the poet had 
 won her love, and though he frequently interrupted her 
 with blame as well as praise, his heart was full of fatherly 
 joy when he laid his darling's hand in that of the poet. 
 
 Bent-Anat laid her head in full content on the breast of 
 
UARDA. 471 
 
 the noble Assays grandson, but she would have clung not 
 less fondly to Pentaur the gardener's son. 
 
 " Now you are one of my own children," said Rameses ; 
 and he desired the poet to remain with him while he com- 
 manded the heralds, ambassadors and interpreters to bring 
 to him the Asiatic princes, who were detained in their 
 own tents on the farther side of the Nile, that he might 
 conclude with them such a treaty of peace as might con- 
 tinue valid for generations to come. Before they arrived, 
 the young princes came to their father's tent, and learned 
 from his own lips the noble birth of Pentaur, and that 
 they owed it to their sister that in him they saw another 
 brother ; they welcomed him with sincere affection, and 
 all, especially Rameri, warmly congratulated the hand- 
 some and worthy couple. 
 
 The king then called Rameri forward from among his 
 brothers, and thanked him before them all for his brave 
 conduct during the fire. He had already been invested 
 with the robe of manhood after the battle of Kadesh ; he 
 was now appointed to the command of a legion of chariot- 
 warriors, and the order of the lion to wear round his neck 
 was bestowed on him for his bravery. * The prince knelt, 
 and thanked his father ; but Rameses took the curly head 
 in his hands and said : 
 
 "You have won praise and reward by your splendid 
 deeds from the father whom you have saved and filled 
 with pride. But the king, who must uphold the laws and 
 guide the destiny of this land, the king must blame you, 
 nay perhaps punish you. You could not yield to the dis- 
 cipline of school, where w^e all must learn to obey if we 
 would afterward exercise our authority with moderation, 
 and without any orders you left Egypt and joined the 
 army. You showed the courage and strength of a man, 
 but the folly of a boy in all that regards prudence and fore- 
 sight — things harder to learn for the son of a race of heroes 
 than mere hitting and slashing at random ; you, without 
 experience, measured yourself against masters of the art 
 
 * The naval officer Ahmes relates in the biographical inscription in his 
 tomb at el Kab that he was invested with the robe of manhood, and 
 ♦* took a house," or in other words married. The " order of the Hon " 
 is mentioned as having been bestowed on the commander-in-chief, AmeM 
 em Heb, who lived in the time of Thotmes III. 
 
472 UARDA. 
 
 of war, and what was the consequence ? Twice you fell 
 a prisoner into the hands of the enemy, and I had to ransom 
 you. 
 
 "The king of the Danaids gave you up in exchange for 
 his daughter, and he rejoices long since in the restoration 
 of his child ; but we, in losing her, lost the most powerful 
 means of coercing the sea-faring nations of the islands and 
 coast of the northern sea, who are constantly increasing 
 in might and daring, and so diminished our chances of 
 securing a solid and abiding peace. 
 
 "Thus — through the careless willfulness of a boy, the 
 great work is endangered which I had hoped to have 
 achieved. It grieves me particularly to humiliate your 
 spirit to-day, when I have had so much reason to encour- 
 age you with praise. Nor will I punish you, only warn 
 you and teach you. The mechanism of the state is like 
 the working of the cogged wheels which move the water- 
 works on the shore of the Nile — if one tooth is missing the 
 whole comes to a standstill however strong the beasts that 
 labor to turn it. Each of you — bear this in mind — is a 
 main-wheel in the great machine of the state, and can serve 
 an end only by acting unresistingly in obedience to the 
 motive power. Now rise ! we may perhaps succeed in 
 obtaining good security from the Asiatic king, though we 
 have lost our hostage." 
 
 Heralds at this moment marched into the tent, and an- 
 nounced that the representative of the Cheta king and the 
 allied princes were in attendance in the council-tent ; 
 Rameses put on the crown of Upper and Lower Egypt and 
 all his royal adornments ; the chamberlain who carried the 
 insignia of his power, and his head scribe with his decora- 
 tion of plumes, marched before him, while his sons, the 
 commanders-in-chief, and the interpreters, followed him. 
 Rameses took his seat on his throne with great dignity, 
 and the sternest gravity marked his demeanor while he 
 received the homage of the conquered and fettered kings. 
 
 The Asiatics kissed the earth at his feet, only the king 
 of the Danaids did no more than bow before him. Rame- 
 ses looked wrathfully at him, and ordered the interpreter 
 to ask him whether he considered himself conquered or no, 
 and the answer was given that he had not come before the 
 Pharaoh as a prisoner, and that the obeisance which Rame- 
 
UARDA. 473 
 
 Bes required of him was regarded as a degradation accord- 
 ing to the customs of his free-born people, who prostrated 
 themselves only before the gods. He hoped to become an 
 ally of the king of Egypt, and he asked would he desire to 
 call a degraded man his friend ? 
 
 Rameses measured the proud and noble figure before 
 him with a glance, and said severely : 
 
 " I am prepared to treat for peace only with such of my 
 enemies as are willing to bow to the double crown that I 
 wear. If you persist in your refusal, you and your people 
 will have no part in the favorable conditions that I am 
 prepared to grant to these, your allies." 
 
 The captive prince preserved his dignified demeanor, 
 which was nevertheless free from insolence, when these 
 words oftheking were interpreted to him, and replied that 
 he had come intending to procure peace at any cost, but 
 that he never could nor would grovel in the dust at any 
 man's feet, nor before any crown. He would depart on 
 the following day ; one favor, however, he requested in his 
 daughter's name and his own — and he had heard that the 
 Egyptians respected women. The king knew, of course, 
 that his charioteer Mena had treated his daughter, not as 
 a prisoner but as a sister, and Praxilla now felt a wish, 
 which he himself shared, to bid farewell to the noble Mena, 
 and his wife, and to thank him for his magnanimous gen- 
 erosity. Would Rameses permit him once more to cross 
 the Nile before his departure, and with his daughter to 
 visit Mena in his tent ? 
 
 Rameses granted his prayer ; the prince left the tent, and 
 the negotiations began. 
 
 In a few hours they were brought to a close, for the 
 Asiatic and Egyptian scribes had agreed, in the course 
 of the long march southward, on the stipulations to 
 be signed ; the treaty itself was to be drawn up after 
 the articles had been carefully considered, and to be 
 signed in the city of Rameses called Tanis — or, by the 
 numerous settlers in its neighborhood, Zoan. The Asiatic 
 princes were to dine as guests with the king ; but they 
 sat at a separate table, as the Egyptians would have been 
 defiled by sitting at the same table with strangers. 
 
 Rameses was not perfectly satisfied. If the Danaids 
 went away without concluding a treaty with him, it was to 
 
474 
 
 UARDA. 
 
 be expected that the peace which he was so earnestly striv- 
 ing for would before long be again disturbed ; and he 
 nevertheless felt that, out of regard for the other con- 
 quered princes, he could not forego any jot of the humilia- 
 tion which he had required of their king, and which he 
 believed to be due to himself — though he had been 
 greatly impressed by his dignified manliness and by the 
 bravery of the troops that had followed him into the 
 field. 
 
 The sun was sinking when Mena, who that day had 
 leave of absence from the king, came in great excitement 
 up to the table where the princes were sitting and craved 
 the king's permission to make an important communica- 
 tion. Rameses signed consent ; the charioteer went close 
 up to him and they held a short but eager conversation in 
 a low voice. 
 
 Presently the king stood up and said, speaking to his 
 daughter : 
 
 ''This day which began so horribly will end joyfully. 
 The fair child whom you to-day restored to life, but who 
 so nearly fell a victim to the flames, is of noble origin. " 
 
 ** She comes of a royal house," said Rameri, disrespect- 
 fully interrupting his father. Rameses looked at him 
 reprovingly. "My sons are silent," he said, *'tilllask 
 them to speak." 
 
 The prince colored and looked down ; the king signed 
 to Bent-Anat and Pentaur, begged his guests to excuse 
 him for a short time, and was about to leave the tent ; but 
 Bent-Anat went up to him, and whispered a few words to 
 him with reference to her brother. Not in vain : the king 
 paused and reflected for a few moments ; then he looked 
 at Rameri, who stood abashed, and as if rooted to the spot 
 where he stood. The king called his name and beckoned 
 him to follow him. 
 
UARDA. 475 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 Rameri had rushed off to summon the physicians, while 
 Bent-Anat was endeavoring to restore the rescued Uarda 
 to consciousness, and he followed them into his sister's 
 tent. He gazed with tender anxiety into the face of the 
 half-suffocated girl, who, though uninjured, still remained 
 unconscious, and took her hand to press his lips to her 
 slender fingers, but Bent-Anat pushed him gently away ; 
 then in low tones that trembled with emotion he implored 
 her not to send him away, and told her how dear the girl 
 whose life he had saved in the fight in the Necropolis had 
 become to him — how, since his departure for Syria, he had 
 never ceased to think of her night and day, and that he 
 desired to make her his wife. 
 
 Bent-Anat was startled ; she reminded her brother of 
 the stain that lay on the child of the paraschites and 
 through which she herself had suffered so much; but 
 Rameri answered eagerly : 
 
 "In Egypt rank and birth are derived through the 
 mother, and Kaschta's dead wife " 
 
 ** I know," interrupted Bent-Anat. "Nebsecht has al- 
 s-eady told us that she was a dumb woman, a prisoner of 
 war, and I myself believe that she was of no mean house, 
 ,V)r Uarda is nobly formed in face and figure." 
 
 '* And her skin is as fine as the petal of a flower," cried 
 liameri. ** Her voice is like the ring of pure gold, and — 
 oh ! look, she is moving. Uarda, open your eyes, Uarda ! 
 When the sun rises we praise the gods. Open your eyes ! 
 how thankful, how joyful I shall be if those two suns only 
 rise again." 
 
 Bent-Anat smiled, and drew her brother away from the 
 heavily breathing girl, for a leech came into the tent to 
 say that a warm medicated bath had been prepared and 
 was ready for Uarda. The princess ordered her waiting- 
 women to help lift the senseless girl, and was preparing 
 to follow her when a message from her father required 
 ll-r presence in his tent She could guess at the signifi- 
 
476 UARDA. 
 
 cance of this command, and desired Rameri to leave her 
 that she might dress in festal garments ; she could entrust 
 Uarda to the care of Nefert during her absence. 
 
 ** She is kind and gentle, and she knows Uarda so well," 
 said the princess, "and the necessity of caring for this 
 dear little creature will do her good. Her heart is torn 
 between sorrow for her lost relations, and joy at being 
 united again to her love. My father has given Mena leave 
 of absence from his office for several days, and I have ex- 
 cused her from her attendance on me, for the time during 
 which we were so necessary to each other really came to 
 an end yesterday. I feel, Rameri, as if we, after our es- 
 cape, were like the sacred phoenix which comes to Helio- 
 polis and burns itself to death only to soar again from its 
 ashes young and radiant — blessed and blessing ! " 
 
 When her brother had left her, she threw herself before 
 the image of her mother and prayed long and earnestly ; 
 she poured an offering of sweet perfume on the little altar 
 of the goddess Hathor, which always accompanied her, 
 had dressed in happy preparation for meeting her father, 
 and — she did not conceal it from herself — Pentaur, then 
 she went for a moment to Nefert's tent to beg her to take 
 good care of Uarda, and finally obeyed the summons of 
 the king, who, as we know, fulfilled her utmost hopes. 
 
 As Rameri quitted his sister's tent he saw the watch 
 seize and lead away a little boy ; the child cried bitterly, 
 and the prince in a moment recognized the little sculptor 
 Scherau, who had betrayed the regent's plot to him and 
 to Uarda, and whom he had already fancied he had seen 
 about the place. The guards had driven him away several 
 times from the princess' tent, but he had persisted in re- 
 turning, and this obstinate waiting in the neighborhood 
 had aroused the suspicious of an officer ; for since the fire 
 a thousand rumors of conspiracies and plots against the 
 king had been flying about the camp. Rameri at once 
 freed the little prisoner, and heard from him that it was 
 old Hekt who, before her death, had sent Kaschta and his 
 daughter to the rescue of the king, that he himself had 
 helped to rouse the troops, that now he had no home and 
 wished to go to Uarda. 
 
 The prince himself led the child to Nefert, and begged 
 her to allow him to see Uarda, and to let him stay with 
 
UARDA. 477 
 
 her servants till he himself returned from nis father's tent. 
 
 The leeches had treated Uarda with judgment, for 
 under the influence of the bath she recovered her senses ; 
 when she had been dressed again in fresh garments, and 
 refreshed by the essences and medicines which they gave 
 her to inhale and to drink, she was led back into Nefert's 
 tent, where Mena, who had never before seen her, was 
 astonished at her peculiar and touching beauty. 
 
 *'She is very like my Danaid princess," he said to his 
 wife ; ''only she is younger and much prettier than she. " 
 
 Little Scherau came in to pay his respects to her, and 
 she was delighted to see the boy ; still she was sad, and 
 however kindly Nefert spoke to her she remained in silent 
 reverie, while from time to time a large tear rolled down 
 her cheek. 
 
 "You have lost your father!" said Nefert, trying to 
 comfort her. ''And I, my mother and brother both in 
 one day." 
 
 " Kaschta was rough, but, oh ! so kind ! " replied Uarda. 
 "He was always so fond of me ; he was like the fruit of 
 the doom palm ; its husk is hard and rough, but he who 
 knows how to open it finds the sweet pulp within. Now 
 he is dead, and my grandfather and grandmother are gone 
 before him, and I am like the green leaf that I saw float- 
 ing on the waters when we were crossing the sea ; any- 
 thing so forlorn I never saw, abandoned by all it belonged 
 to or had ever loved, the sport of a strange element in 
 which nothing resembling itself ever grew or ever can 
 grow. " 
 
 Nefert kissed her forehead. "You have friends," she 
 said, "who will never abandon you." 
 
 "I know, I know!" said Uarda thoughtfully, " and 
 yet I am alone — for the first time really alone. In Thebes 
 I have often looked after the wild swans as they passed 
 across the sky ; one flies in front, then comes the body of 
 the wandering party, and very often, far behind, a soli- 
 tary straggler ; and this last oiie I call lonely although he 
 can see his brethren in front of him. But when the hunt- 
 ers have shot down all the low-flying loiterers, and the 
 last one has lost sight of the flock, and knows that he 
 never again can find them or follow them, he is indeed to 
 be pitied. I am as unhappy as the abandoned bird, for I 
 
478 UARDA. 
 
 have lost sight to-day of all that I belong to, and I am 
 alone, and can never find them again." 
 
 ** You will be welcomed into some more noble house 
 than that to which you belong by birth/' said Nefert, to 
 comfort her. 
 
 Uarda's eyes flashed, and she said proudly, almost 
 defiantly : 
 
 "My race is that of my mother, who was a daughter of 
 no mean house ; the reason I turned back this morning 
 and went into the smoke and fire again after I had escaped 
 once into the open air — what I went back for, because I 
 felt it was worth dying for, was my mothers legacy, 
 which I had put away with my holiday dress when I fol- 
 lowed the wretched Nemu to his tent. I threw myself 
 into the jaws of death to save the jewel, but certainly not 
 because it is made of gold and precious stones — for I do not 
 care to be rich, and I want no better fare than a bit of bread 
 and a few dates and a cup of water — but because it has 
 a name on it in strange characters, and because I believe 
 it will serve to discover the people from whom my mother 
 was carried off ; and now I have lost the jewel, and with it 
 my identity and my hopes and my happiness." 
 
 Uarda wept aloud ; Nefert put her arms round her affec- 
 tionately. 
 
 *' Poor child ! " she said, " was your treasure destroyed 
 in the flames ? " 
 
 " No, no," cried Uarda, eagerly. ^'Isnatched it out of 
 my chest and held it in my hand when Nebsecht took me 
 in his arms, and I still had it in my hand when I was 
 lying safe on the ground outside the burning house, and 
 Bent-Anat was close to me, and Rameri came up. I 
 remember seeing him as if I were in a dream, and I 
 revived a little, and I felt the jewel in my fingers then." 
 
 ''Then it was dropped on the way to the tent? "said 
 Nefert. 
 
 Uarda nodded ; little Scherau, who had listened to the 
 story, gave Uarda a loving glance, dimmed with tears, and 
 quietly slipped out of the tent. 
 
 Time went by in silence ; Uarda sat looking at the 
 ground, Nefert and Mena held each other's hands, but the 
 thoughts of all three were with the dead. A perfect still- 
 ness reigned, and the happiness of the reunited couple 
 
UARDA. 479 
 
 was darkly overshadowed by their sorrow. From time to 
 time the silence was broken by a trumpet-blast from the 
 royal tent ; first when the Asiatic princes were introduced 
 into the council-tent, then when the Danaid king departed, 
 and lastly when the Pharaoh preceded the conquered 
 princes to the banquet. 
 
 The charioteer remembered how his master had restored 
 him to dignity and honor, for the sake of his faithful 
 wife, and gratefully pressed her hand. 
 
 Suddenly there was noise in front of the tent, and an 
 officer entered to announce to Mena that the Danaid king 
 and his daughter, accompanied by a body-guard, requested 
 to see and speak with him and Nefert. 
 
 The entrance to the tent was thrown wide open, Uarda 
 retired modestly into the background, and Mena and 
 Nefert went forward hand in hand to meet their unex- 
 pected guests. 
 
 The Greek prince was an old man, his beard and thick 
 hair were gray, but his movements were youthful and light, 
 though dignified and deHberate. His even, well-formed 
 features were deeply furrowed, he had large, bright, clear- 
 blue eyes, but round his fine lips were lines of care. Close 
 to him walked his daughter ; her long white robe striped 
 with purple was held round her hips by a golden girdle, 
 and her sunny yellow hair fell in waving locks over her 
 neck and shoulders, while it was confined by a diadem 
 which encircled her head ; she was of middle height, and 
 her motions were measured and calm like her father's. 
 Her brow was narrow, and in one line with her straight 
 nose, her rosy mouth was sweet and kind, and beyond 
 everything beautiful were the lines of her oval face and 
 the turn of her snow-white throat. By their side stooc^ 
 the interpreter who translated every word of the conversa- 
 tion on both sides. Behind them came two men and two 
 women, who carried gifts for Mena and his wife. 
 
 The prince praised Mena's magnanimity in the warmest- 
 terms. 
 
 "You have proved to me," he said, **that the virtues 
 of gratitude, of constancy, and of faith are practiced by 
 the Egyptians ; although your merit certainly appears less 
 to me now that I see your wife, for he who owns the fair- 
 est may easily forego any taste for the fair." 
 
48o UARDA. 
 
 Nefert blushed. 
 
 * ' Your generosity, " she answered, ' ' does me more than 
 justice at your daughter's expense, and love moved my 
 husband to the same injustice, but your beautiful daughter 
 must forgive you and me also." 
 
 Praxillaw^ent toward her and expressed her thanks ; then 
 she offered her the costly coronet, the golden clasps and 
 strings of rare pearls which her women carried ; her father 
 begged Mena to accept a coat of mail and a shield of fine 
 silver work. The strangers were then led into the tent, 
 and were there welcomed and entertained with all honor, 
 and offered bread and wine. While Mena pledged her 
 father, Praxilla related to Nefert, with the help of the 
 interpreter, what hours of terror she had lived through 
 after she had been taken prisoner by the Egyptians, and 
 was brought into the camp with the other spoils of war ; 
 how an older commander had asserted his claim to her, 
 how Mena had given her his hand, had led her to his tent, 
 and had treated her like his own daughter. Her voice 
 shook with emotion, and even the interpreter was moved 
 as she concluded her story with these words : ' ' How grate- 
 ful I am to him you will fully understand when I tell you 
 that the man who was to have been my husband fell 
 wounded before my eyes while defending our camp ; but 
 he has recovered, and now only awaits my return for our 
 wedding. " 
 
 ''May the gods only grant it !" cried the king, "for 
 Praxilla is the last child of my house. The murderous 
 war robbed me of my four fair sons before they had taken 
 wives, my son in-law was slain by the Egyptians at the 
 taking of our camp, and his wife and new-born son fell 
 into their hands, and Praxilla is my youngest child, the 
 only one left to me by the envious gods." 
 
 While he was still speaking they heard the guards call 
 out and a child's loud cry, and at the same instant little 
 Scherau rushed into the tent holding up his hand, 
 exclaiming : 
 
 *' I have it ! I have found it ! " 
 
 Uarda, who had remained be}|ind the curtain which 
 screened the sleeping-room of the tent — but who had list- 
 ened with breathless attention to every word of the for- 
 eigners, and who had never taken her eyes off the fair 
 
UARDA. 481 
 
 Praxilla — now came forward, emboldened by lier agitation, 
 into the midst of the tent, and took the jewel from the 
 child's hand to show it to the Greek king ; for while she 
 stood gazing at Praxilla it seemed to her that she was look- 
 ing at herself in a mirror, and the idea had rapidly grown 
 to conviction that her mother had been a daughter of the 
 Danaids. Her heart beat violently as she went up to the 
 king with a modest demeanor, her head bent down, but 
 holding her jewel up for him to see. 
 
 The by-standers all gazed in astonishment at the veteran 
 chief, for he staggered as she came up to him, stretched 
 out his hands as if in terror toward the girl, and drew 
 back, crying out : 
 
 * ' Xanthe, Xanthe ! Is your spirit freed from Hades ? 
 Are you come to summon me ? " 
 
 Praxilla looked at her father in alarm, but suddenly she, 
 too, gave a piercing cry, snatched a chain from her neck, 
 hurried toward Uarda, and seizing the jewel she held, 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " Here is the other half of the ornament ; it belonged to 
 my poor sister Xanthe ! " 
 
 The old Greek was a pathetic sight ; he struggled hard 
 to collect himself, looking with tender delight at Uarda, 
 his sinewy hands trembling as he compared the two pieces 
 of the necklet ; they matched precisely — each represented 
 the wing of an eagle which was attached to half an oval 
 covered with an inscription ; when they were laid together 
 they formed the complete figure of a bird with outspread 
 wings on whose breast the lines exactly matched the fol- 
 lowing oracular verse : 
 
 " Alone each is a trifling thing, a woman's useless toy — 
 But with its counterpart behold ! the favorite bird of Zeus." 
 
 A glance at the inscription convinced the king that he 
 held in his hand the very jewel which he had put with his 
 own hands round the neck of his daughter Xanthe on her 
 marriage-day, and of which the other half had been pre- 
 served by her mother, from whom it had descended to 
 Praxilla. It had originally been made for his wife and her 
 twin sister who had died young. Before he made any 
 inquiries, or asked for any explanations, he took Uarda's 
 hea^ between his hands, and turning her face close to his, 
 
 31 
 
aJ2 uarda. 
 
 he gazed at her features, as if he were readings a book in 
 which he expected to find a memorial of all the blissful 
 hours of his youth, and the girl felt no fear ; nor did she 
 shrink when he pressed his lips to her forehead, for she 
 felt that this man's blood ran in her own veins. At last 
 the king signed to the interpreter ; Uarda was asked to tell 
 all that she knew of her mother, and when she said that 
 she had come a captive to Thebes with an infant that had 
 soon after died, that her father had bought her and had 
 loved her in spite of her being dumb, the prince's con- 
 viction became certainty ; he acknowledged Uarda as his 
 grandchild, and Praxilla clasped her in her arms. 
 
 Then he told Mena that it was now twenty years since 
 his son-in-law had been killed, and his daughter Xanthe, 
 whom Uarda exactly resembled, had been carried into 
 captivity. Praxilla was then only just born, and his wife 
 died of the shock of such terrible news. All his inquiries 
 for Xanthe and her child had been fruitless, but he now 
 remembered that once, when he had offered a large ransom 
 for his daughter if she could be found, the Egyptians had 
 inquired whether she were dumb, and that he had an- 
 swered "No." No doubt Xanthe had lost the power ot 
 speech through grief, terror and suffering. 
 
 The joy of the king was unspeakable, and Uarda was 
 never tired of gazing at his daughter and holding he" 
 hand. 
 
 Then she turned to the interpreter. 
 
 **Tell me," she said; ''how do I say *I am so very 
 happy ' ? " 
 
 He told her, and she smilingly repeated his words. 
 ** Now ' Uarda will love you with all her heart ' ? " and she 
 said it after him in broken accents that sounded so sweet 
 and so heartfelt that the old man clasped her to his 
 breast. 
 
 Tears of emotion stood in Neferfs eyes, and when 
 Uarda flung herself into her arms she said : 
 
 "The forlorn swan has found its kindred, the floating 
 leaf has reached the ghore, and must be happy now 1 " 
 
 Thus passed an hour of the purest happiness : at last 
 the Greek king prepared to leave, and he v/ished to take 
 Uarda with him ; but Mena begged his permission to com^ 
 municate all that had occurred to the Pharaoh and Bent- 
 
UARDA. 483 
 
 Anat, for Uarda was attached to the princess' train, and 
 had been left in his charge, and he dared not trust her in 
 any other hands without Bent-Anat's permission. Without 
 waiting for the king's reply he left the tent, hastened to 
 the banqueting-tent, and, as we know, Rameses and the 
 princess had at once attended to his summons. 
 
 On the way Mena gave them a vivid description of the 
 exciting events that had taken place, and Rameses, with a 
 side glance at Bent-Anat, asked Rameri : 
 
 "Would you be prepared to repair your errors, and tc 
 win the friendship of the Greek king by being betrothed tc 
 his daughter ? " 
 
 The prince could not answer a word, but he clasped his 
 father's hand, and kissed it so warmly that Rameses, ae 
 he drew it away, said : 
 
 '' I really believe that you have stolen a march on me, 
 and have been studying diplomacy behind my back ! " 
 
 Rameses met his noble opponent outside Mena's tent, 
 and was about to offer him his hand, but the Danaid chief 
 had sunk on his knees before him as the other princes had 
 done. 
 
 "Regard me not as a king and a warrior," he exclaimed, 
 "only as a suppliant father ; let us conclude a peace, and 
 permit me to take this maiden, my grandchild, home with 
 me to my own country." 
 
 Rameses raised the old man from the ground, gave him 
 his hand, and said kindly : 
 
 "I can only grant the half of what you ask. I, as king 
 of Egypt, am most willing to grant you a faithful compact 
 for a sound and lasting peace ; as regards this maiden, you 
 must treat with my children, first with my daughter 
 Bent-Anat, one of whose ladies she is, and then with youi 
 released prisoner there, who wishes to make Uarda his 
 wife." 
 
 "I will resign my share in the matter to my brother," 
 said Bent-Anat, "and I only ask you, maiden, whether 
 you are inclined to acknowledge him as your lord and 
 master?" 
 
 Uarda bowed assent, and looked at her grandfathei 
 with an expression which he understood without any 
 interpreter. 
 
 "I know you well," he said, turning to Rameri. ** We 
 
484 UARDA. 
 
 stood face to face in the fight, and I took you prisoner as 
 you fell stunned by a blow from my sword. You are still 
 too rash, but that is a fault which time will amend In a 
 youth of your heroic temper. Listen to me now, and you 
 too, noble Pharaoh, permit me these few words ; let us 
 betroth these two, and may their union be the bond d 
 ours, but first grant me for a year to take my long-los? 
 child home with me that she may rejoice my old heart 
 and that I may hear from her lips the accents of he; 
 mother whom you took from me. They are both young ; 
 according to the usages of our country, where both men 
 and women ripen later than in your country, they are 
 almost too young for the solemn tie of marriage. But one 
 thing above all will determine you to favor my wishes ; this 
 daughter of a royal house has grown up amid th^ humbles: 
 surroundings ; here she has no home, no family ties. The 
 prince has wooed her, so to speak, on the highway, but ii 
 she now comes with me he can enter the palace of kings aa 
 suitor to a princess, and the marriage feast I will provide 
 shall be a right royal one." 
 
 '* What you demand is just and wise," replied Rameses. 
 "Take your grandchild with you as my son's betrothec 
 bride — my future daughter. Give me your hands, my 
 children. The delay will teach you patience, for Rameri 
 must remain a full year from to-day in Egypt, and it will 
 be to your profit, sweet child, for the obedience which he 
 will learn through his training in the army will temper the 
 nature of your future husband. You, Rameri, shall in p 
 year from to-day — and I think you will not forget the 
 date — find at your service a ship in the harbor of Pelusium 
 fitted and manned with Phoenicians to convey you to you: 
 wedding." 
 
 ''So be it ! " exclaimed the old man. "And by Zeus, 
 who hears me swear — I will not withhold Xantheo daugh- 
 ter from your son when he comes to claim her ! " 
 
 When Rameri returned to the princes' tent he threw 
 himself on their necks in turn, and when he found himsell 
 alone with their surly old house-steward, be snatched his 
 wig from his head, flung it in the air, and then coaxingly 
 stroked the worthy officer's cheeks as he set it on his heac 
 again. 
 
UARDA. 485 
 
 CHAPTER XLVL 
 
 UfREii accompanied her grandfather and Praxilla to 
 fheiir t,e:id on the farther side of the Nile, but she was io 
 return next morning to the Egyptian camp to take leave 
 of al\ her friends, and to provide for her father's inter- 
 ment. Nor did she delay attending to the last wishes oi 
 old HekiT, and Bent-Anat easily persuaded her father, 
 when, he learned how greatly he had been indebted to her, 
 to have her embalmed like a lady of rank. 
 
 Before Uarda left the Egyptian camp, Pentaur came to 
 entreat her to afford her dying preserver Nebsecht the last 
 nappfness of seeing her once more ; Uarda acceded with a 
 ^lushi and the poet, who had watched all night by his 
 /tienc?:^ went forward to prepare him for her visit. 
 
 Nebsecht's burns and a severe wound on his head 
 caused him great suffering ; his cheeks glowed with fever, 
 And the physicians told Pentaur that he probably could 
 riot live more than a few hours. 
 
 The poet laid his cool hand on his friend's brow, and 
 ^oke to him encouragingly ; but Nebsecht smiled at his 
 ^OTdi   with the peculiar expression of a man who knows 
 that his end is near, and said in a low voice and with a 
 Visiblo effort : 
 
 "A few breaths more and here, and here, will be 
 peace.'" He laid his hand on his head and on his heart. 
 
 ** We all attain to peace." said Pentaur. ** But perhaps 
 only to labor more earnestly and unweariedly in the land 
 beyond the grave. If the gods reward anything it is the 
 honest struggle, the earnest seeking after truth ; if any 
 spirit can be made one with the great Soul of the world it 
 will be yours, and if any eye may see the Godhead 
 through the veil which here shrouds the mystery of His 
 exister.ce yours will have earned the privilege." 
 
 ** I have pushed and pulled," sighed Nebsecht, *'with 
 all my might, and now when I thought I had caught a 
 glimpse cf the truth the heavy fist of death comes down 
 upon me and shuts my eyes. What good will it do me to 
 
486 UARDA. 
 
 see with the eye of the Divinity or to share in his omnis- 
 cience? It is not seeing, it is seeking that is delightful — 
 so delightful that I would willingly set my life there 
 against another life here for the sake of it." 
 
 He was silent, for his strength failed, and Pentaur 
 begged him to keep quiet, and to occupy his mind in re- 
 calling all the hours of joy which life had given him. 
 
 *' They have been few," said the leech. "When my 
 mother kissed me and gave me dates, when I could work 
 and observe in peace, when you opened my eyes to the 
 beautiful world of poetry — that was good ! " 
 
 "And you have soothed the sufferings of many men/ 
 added Pentaur, *' and never caused pain to any one." 
 
 Nebsecht shook his head. 
 
 **I drove the old paraschites, " he muttered, **to mad- 
 ness and to death. " 
 
 He was silent for a long time, then he looked up eagerly 
 and said : '* But not intentionally — and not in vain ! In 
 Syria, at Megiddo I could work undisturbed ; now I know 
 what the organ is that thinks. The heart ! What is the 
 heart ? A ram's heart or a man's heart, they serve the 
 same end ; they turn the wheel of animal life, they botn 
 beat quicker in terror or in joy, for we feel fear or pleasure 
 just as animals do. But Thought, the divine power that 
 flies to the infinite, and enables us to form and prove our 
 opinions, has its seat here — here in the brain, behind the 
 brow." 
 
 He paused exhausted and overcome with pain. Pen- 
 taur thought he was wandering in his fever, and offered 
 him a cooling drink while two physicians walked round 
 his bed singing litanies ; then, as Nebsecht raised himself 
 in bed with renewed energy, the poet said to him : 
 
 ** The fairest memory of your life must surely be that of 
 the sweet child whose face, as you once confessed to me, 
 first opened your soul to the sense of beauty, and whom 
 with your own hands you snatched from death at the cost 
 of your own life. You know Uarda has found her owr; 
 relatives and is happy, and she is very grateful to her pre 
 server, and would like to see him once more before she 
 goes far away with her grandfather." 
 
 The sick man hesitated before he answered, softly : 
 
 •* Let her come — but I will look at her from a distance. 
 
UARDA. 487 
 
 Pentaiir went out and soon returned with Uarda, who 
 remained standing with glowing cheeks and tears in her 
 eyes at the door of the tent. The leech looked at her a 
 long time with an imploring and tender expression, then 
 he said : 
 
 *' Accept my thanks — and be happy." 
 
 The girl would have gone up to him to take his hand, 
 but he waved her off with his right hand enveloped m 
 wrappnigs. 
 
 " ocme no nearer," he said, ** but stay a moment longer. 
 You have tears in your eyes ; are they for me or only fur 
 my pain ? " 
 
 " For you, good noble man I my friend and my pre- 
 server ! " said tJarda. " For you, dear poor Nebsecht ! " 
 
 The leech closed his eyes as she spoke these words with 
 earnest feeling, but he looked up once more as she ceased 
 speaking, and gazed at her with tender admiration ; then 
 he said softly : 
 
 " It is enough — now I can die." 
 
 Uarda left the tent, Pentaur remained with him listening 
 to his hoarse and difficult breathing ; suddenly Nebsecht 
 raised himself, and said : ''Farewell, my friend — my jour- 
 ney is beginning, who knows whither ? " 
 
 "Only not into vacancy, not to end in nothingness I" 
 cried Pentaur, warmly. 
 
 The leech shook his head. ** I have been something," 
 he said, *' and being something I cannot become nothing. 
 Nature '.s a good economist, and utilizes the smallest trifle ; 
 she wili use me too according to her need. She brings 
 everything to its end and purpose in obedience to some 
 rule and measure, and will so deal with me after I am 
 dead ; there is no waste. Each thing results in being that 
 which it is its function to become ; our wish or will is not 
 asked — my head I when the pain is in my head I cannot 
 think — if only I could prove — could prove " 
 
 The last words were less and less audible, his breath was 
 choked, and in a few seconds Pentaur with deep regret 
 closed his eyes. 
 
 Pentaur as he quitted the tent where the dead man lay, 
 met the high-priest Ameni, who had gone to seek him by 
 his fria'nd's bedside, and they returned together to gaze 
 
488 UARDA. 
 
 on the dead. Ameni, with much emotion, put up a few 
 earnest prayers for the salvation of his soul, and then re- 
 quested Pentaur to follow him without delay to his tent. 
 On the way he prepared the poet, with the polite delicacy 
 which was peculiar to him, for a meeting which might be 
 more painful than joyful to him, and must in any case 
 bring him many hours of anxiety and agitation. 
 
 The judges in Thebes, who had been become compelled 
 to sentence the lady Setchem, as the mother of a traitor, 
 to banishment to the mines* had, without any demand on 
 her part, granted leave to the noble and most respectable 
 matron to go under an escort of guards to meet the king 
 on his return into Egypt, m order to petition for mercy for 
 herself, but not — as it was expressly added — for Paaker ; 
 and she had set out, but with the secret resolution to 
 obtain the king's grace not for herself but for her son. 
 
 Ameni had already left Thebes for the north when this 
 sentence was pronounced, or he would have reversed it by 
 declaring the true origin of Paaker ; for after he had given 
 up his participation in the regent's conspiracy, he no longer 
 had any motive for keeping old Hekt's secret. 
 
 Setchem's journey was lengthened by a storm which 
 wrecked the ship in which she was descending the Nile, 
 and she did not reach Pelusium till after the king. The 
 canal which formed the mouth of the Nile close to this 
 fortress and joined the river to the Mediterranean, was so 
 overcrowded with the boats of the regent and his follow- 
 ers, of the ambassadors, nobles, citizens and troops which 
 had met from all parts of the country, that the lady's boat 
 could find anchorage only at a great distance from the 
 city, and accompanied by her faithful steward she had 
 succeeded only a few hours before in speaking to the high- 
 priest. 
 
 Setchem was terribly changed ; her eyes, which only a 
 few months since had kept an efficient watch over the 
 wealthy Theban household, were now dim and weary, and 
 
 * Agatharchides, in Diodorus iii., 12, says that in many cases not only 
 the criminal but his relations also were condemned to labor in the mines. 
 In the convention signed between Rameses and the Cheta king it is ex- 
 pressly provided that the deserter restored to Egypt shall go unpunished, 
 that no injury shall be done " to his house^ his wife or his children, noi 
 shall his mother be put to death/' 
 
UARDA. 489 
 
 although her figure had not grown thin it had lost its 
 dignity and energy, and seemed inert and feeble. Her 
 lips, so ready for a wise or sprightly saying, were closely 
 shut, and moved only in silent prayer or when some friend 
 spoke to her of her unhappy son. His deed she well knew 
 was that of a reprobate, and she sought no excuse or 
 defense ; her mothers heart forgave it without any. 
 Whenever she thought of him — and she thought of him 
 incessantly all through the day and through her sleepless 
 nights — her eyes overflowed with tears. 
 
 Her boat had reached Pelusium just as the flames were 
 breaking out in the palace ; the broad flare of light and the 
 cries from the various vessels in the harbor brought her on 
 deck. She heard that the burning house was the pavilion 
 erected by Ani for the king's residence ; Rameses she v/as 
 told was in the utmost danger, and the fire had beyond a 
 doubt been laid by traitors. 
 
 As day broke and further news reached her, the names 
 of her son and of her sister came to her ear ; she asked no 
 questions — she would not hear the truth — but she knew it 
 all the same; as often as the word "traitor" caught her 
 ear in her cabin, to which she had retreated, she felt as if 
 some keen pain shot through her bewildered brain, and 
 shuddered as if from a cold chill. 
 
 All through that day she could neither eat nor drink, 
 but lay with closed eyes on her couch, while her steward 
 — who had soon learned what a terrible share his former 
 master had taken in the incendiarism, and who now gave 
 up his lady's cause for lost — sought everywhere for the 
 high-priest Ameni ; but as he was among the persons 
 nearest to the king it was impossible to see him that day, 
 and it was not till the next morning that he was able to 
 speak with him. Ameni inspired the anxious and sorrow- 
 ful old retainer with fresh courage, returned with him in 
 his own chariot to the harbor, and accompanied him to 
 Setchem's boat to prepare her for the happiness which 
 awaited her after her terrible troubles. 
 
 But he came too late ; the spirit of the poor lady was 
 quite clouded, and she listened to him without any interest 
 while he strove to restore her to courage and to recall her 
 wandering mind. She only interrupted him over and over 
 
49 o UARDA. 
 
 again with the questions: ''Did he do it?" or "Is he 
 
 alive ? " 
 
 At last Ameni succeeded in persuading her to accompany 
 him in her Htter to his tent, where she would find her son. 
 Pentaur was wonderfully like her lost husband, and the 
 priest, experienced in humanity, thought that the sight of 
 him would rouse the dormant powers of her mind. When 
 she had arrived at his tent, he told her with kind precau- 
 tion the whole history of the exchange of Paaker for Pen- 
 taur, and she followed the story with attention but with 
 indifference, as if she were hearing of the adventures of 
 others who did not concern her. When Ameni enlarged 
 on the genius of the poet and on his perfect resemblance 
 to his dead father she muttered : 
 
 " I know — I know. You mean the speaker at the feast 
 of the Valley," and then, although she had been told 
 several times that Paaker had been killed, she asked again 
 if her son was alive. 
 
 Ameni decided at last to fetch Pentaur himself. When 
 he came back with him, fully prepared to meet his heavily- 
 stricken mother, the tent was empty. The high-priest's 
 servants told him that Setchem had persuaded the easily- 
 moved old prophet Gagabu to conduct her to the place 
 where the body of Paaker lay. Ameni was very much 
 vexed, for he feared that Setchem was now lost indeed, 
 and he desired the poet to follow him at once. 
 
 The mortal remains of the pioneer had been laid in a 
 tent not far from the scene of the fire ; his body was cov- 
 ered with a cloth, but his pale face, which had not been 
 injured in his fall, remained uncovered ; by his side knelt 
 the unhappy mother. 
 
 She paid no heed to Ameni when he spoke to her, and 
 he laid his hand on her shoulder and said as he pointed to 
 the body : 
 
 "This was the son of a gardener. You brought him 
 up faithfully as if he were your own ; but your noble hus- 
 band's true hei^, the son you bore him, is Pentaur, to 
 whom the gods have given not only the form and features 
 but the noble qualities of his father. The dead man may 
 be forgiven — for the sake of your virtues ; but your love is 
 due to this nobler soul — the real son of your husband, the 
 poet of Egypt, the preserver of the kings life. " 
 
UARDA. 491 
 
 Setchem rose and went up to Pentaur ; she laid her 
 hands on his breast as if to feel if he were indeed a living 
 man, and looked into his face. 
 
 ' ' It is he, " she said. * ' May the immortals bless him ! " 
 
 Pentaur would have clasped her in his arms, but she 
 pushed him away as if she feared to commit some breach 
 of faith, and turning hastily to the bier she said softly : 
 
 ' ' Poor Paaker — poor, poor Paaker ! " 
 
 ''Mother, mother, do you not know your son? ''cried 
 Pentaur, deeply moved. 
 
 She turned to him again : "It is his voice," she said. 
 "It is he." 
 
 She went up to Pentaur, clung to him, clasped her arms 
 round his neck as he bent over her, then kissing him 
 fondly, 
 
 "The gods will bless you ! " she said once more. 
 
 She tore herself from him and threw herself down by 
 the body of Paaker, as if she had done him some injustice 
 and robbed him of his rights. 
 
 Thus she remained, speechless and motionless, till they 
 carried her back to her boat ; there she lay down, and 
 refused to take any nourishment ; from time to time she 
 whispered "Poor Paaker! " She no longer repelled Pen- 
 taur, for she did not again recognize him, and before he 
 left her she had followed the rough-natured son of her 
 adoption to the other world. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 The king had left the camp, and had settled in the 
 neighboring "city of Rameses " Tanis, with the greater 
 part of his army. The Hebrews, who were settled in im- 
 mense numbers in the province of Goshen, and whom 
 Ani had attached to his cause by remitting their task- 
 work, were now driven to labor at the palaces and fortifi- 
 cations which Rameses had begun to build. 
 
 At Tanis, too, the treaty of peace was signed and was 
 presented to Rameses inscribed on a silver tablet by 
 
492 UARDA, 
 
 Tarthisebu, the representative of the Cheta kmg, m the 
 name of his lord and master.* 
 
 Pentaur followed the king as soon as he had closed his 
 mother's eyes, and accompanied her body to Heliopolis, 
 there to have it embalmed ; from thence the mummy vi^as 
 to be sent to Thebes, and solemnly placed in the grave of 
 her ancestors. This duty of children toward their parents, 
 and indeed all care for the dead, was regarded as so sacred 
 by the Egyptians that neither Pentaur nor Bent-Anat 
 would have thought of being united before it was accom- 
 plished. 
 
 On the twenty-first day of the month Tybi, of the 
 twenty-first year of the reign of Rameses,f the day on 
 which the peace was signed, the poet returned to Tanis, 
 sad at heart, for the old gardener whom he had regarded 
 and loved as his father had died before his return home ; 
 the good old man had not long survived the false intelli- 
 gence of the death of the poet, whom he had not only 
 loved but reverenced as a superior being bestowed upon 
 his house as a special grace from the gods. 
 
 It was not till seven months after the fire at Pelusium 
 that Pentaur's marriage with Bent-Anat was solemnized in 
 the palace of the Pharaohs at Thebes ; but time and the 
 sorrows he had suffered had only united their hearts more 
 closely. She felt that though he was the stronger she was 
 the giver and the helper, and realized with delight that 
 like the sun, which when it rises invites a thousand 
 flowers to open and unfold, the glow of her presence 
 raised the poet's oppressed soul to fresh life and beauty. 
 They had given each other up for lost through strife and 
 suffering, and now had found each other again ; each 
 knew how precious the other was. To make each other 
 happy, and prove their affection, was now the aim of their 
 lives, and as they each had proved that they prized 
 honor and right-doing above happiness their union was a 
 
 * This remarkable document is preserved on the huge fragment which 
 remains of the south wall of the temple of Karnak. The silver tablet on 
 which it was engraved is mentioned and described in the fourth line of 
 the treaty. It was rectangular, and had a loop at the top to hang it 
 up by. The best translation is by Chabasin " Voyage d'un Egyptien." 
 
 t According to the date of the treaty of peace this is the twenty'ninth 
 of January. 
 
UARDA. 493 
 
 true marriage, ennobling and purifying their souls. She 
 could snare his deepest thoughts and his most difficult 
 'indertakings, and if their house were filled with children 
 she would know how to give him the fullest enjoyment of 
 those small blessings which at the same time are the 
 f^^reatest joys of life. 
 
 Pentaur finding himself endowed by the king with super- 
 abundant wealth, gave up the inheritance of his fathers 
 to his brother Horus, who was raised to the rank of chief 
 nioneer as a reward for his interposition at the battle of 
 Kadesh ; Horus replaced the fallen cedar-trees which had 
 %tood at the door of his house by masts of more moderate 
 dimensions. 
 
 The hapless Huni, under whose name Pentaur had been 
 transferred to the mines of Sinai, was released from the 
 quarries of Chennu, and restored to his children enriched 
 by gifts from the poet. 
 
 The Pharaoh fully recognized the splendid talents of his 
 daughter's husband ; she to his latest days remained his 
 favorite child, even after he had consolidated the peace by 
 marrying the daughter of the Cheta king, and Pentaur 
 became his most trusted adviser, and responsible for the 
 weightiest affairs in the state. 
 
 Rameses learned from the papers found in Ani's tent, 
 and from other evidence which was only too abundant, 
 that the superior of the House of Seti, and with him the 
 greater part of the priesthood, had for a long time been 
 making common cause with the traitor ; in the first in- 
 stance he determined on the severest, nay bloodiest pun- 
 ishment, but he was persuaded by Pentaur and by his son 
 Chamus to assert and support the principles of his govern- 
 ment by milder and yet thorough measures. Rameses de- 
 sired to be a defender of religion — of the religion which 
 coi: Id carry consolation into the life of the lowly and over- 
 burdened, and give their existence a higher and fuller 
 meaiiing — the religion which to him, as king, appeared the 
 indifpensable means of keeping the grand significance of 
 hurran life ever present to his mind — sacred as the inher- 
 itance of his fathers and useful as the school where the 
 people, who needed leading, mightlearn to follow and obey. 
 
 Bi \ nevertheless no one, not even the priests, the guard- 
 ians of souls, could be permitted to resist the lawa 
 
494 UARDA. 
 
 of which he was the bulwark, to which he himself vvas» 
 subject, and which enjoined obedience to his authority; 
 and before he left Tanis he had given Ameni and his fol- 
 lowers to understand that he alone was master in Egypt. 
 
 The god Seth, who had been honored by the Semite 
 races since the time of the Hyksos, and whom they called 
 upon under the name of Baal, had from the earliest times 
 never been allowed a temple on the Nile, as being the gcd 
 of the stranger ; but Rameses — in spite of the bold remon- 
 strances of the priestly party who called themselves the 
 " true believers" — raised a magnificent temple to this god 
 in the city of Tanis * to supply the religious needs of the 
 immigrant foreigners. In the same spirit of toleration ht- 
 would not allow the worship of strange gods to be inter- 
 fered w^th, though on the other hand he was jealous iix 
 honoring the Egyptian gods with unexampled liberality. 
 He caused temples to be erected in most of the great cities 
 of the kingdom, he added to the temple of Ptah at Mem- 
 phis, and erected immense colossi in tront of the pylons in 
 memory of his deliverance from the fire. In the Necropo- 
 lis of Thebes he had a splendid edifice constructed — which 
 to this day delights the beholder by the symmetry of its 
 proportions f — in memory of the hour when he escape^:* 
 death as by a miracle ; on its pylon he caused the battle oi 
 Kadesh to be represented in beautiful pictures in relief, 
 and there, as well as on the architrave of the great ban- 
 queting-hall, he had the history inscribed of the danger he 
 had run when he stood ''alone and no man with him I " 
 
 By his order Pentaur rewrote the song he had sung aC 
 Pelusium ; it is preserved in three temples, and, in frag-' 
 ments, on several papyrus-rolls which can be made to com- 
 plete each other. It was destined to become the national 
 epic — the Iliad — of Egypt. 
 
 It became Pentaur's duty to constitute the new votivi, 
 temple, which was called the House of Rameses, on the 
 model of the House of Seti, for the Pharaoh felt that i; 
 was requisite to form a new order of priests, and to accut/ 
 *om the ministers of the gods to subordinate their own de- 
 signs to the laws of the country, and to the decrees o^ 
 
 * This temple is frequently mentioned. 
 t Known as the Ramesseum. 
 
UARDA. 495 
 
 their guardian and ruler the king-. Pentaur was mada 
 the superior of the new college, and its library, which was 
 called *' the hospital for the soul," was without an equal ; 
 in this academy, which was the prototype of the later* 
 formed museum and library of Alexandria, sages and poets 
 grew up whose works endured for thousands of years — and 
 fragments of their writings have even come down to us. 
 The most famous are the hymns of Anana, Pentaur'f 
 favorite disciple, and the tale of the **Two Brothers," 
 composed by Gagabu, the grandson of the old prophet. 
 
 Ameni did not remain in Thebes. Rameses had been 
 informed of the way in which he had turned the death of the 
 ram to account, and the use he had made of the heart, as 
 he had supposed it, of the sacred animal, and he trans- 
 lated him without depriving him of his dignity or revenues 
 to Mendes, the city of the holy rams in the Delta, where, 
 as he observed, not without satirical meaning, he would be 
 particularly intimate with these sacred beasts ; in Mendes 
 Ameni exerted great influence, and in spite of many dif- 
 ferences of opinion which threatened to sever them, he 
 and Pentaur remained fast friends to the day of his death. 
 
 In the first court of the house of Rameses there stands — • 
 now broken across the middle — the wonder of the traveler, 
 the grandest colossus in Egypt, made of the hardest 
 granite, and exceeding even the well-known statue of 
 Memnon in the extent of its base. It represents Rameses 
 the Great. Little Scherau, whom Pentaur had educated 
 to be a sculptor, executed it, as well as many other statues 
 of the great sovereign of Egypt. 
 
 A year after the burning of the pavilion at Pelusium 
 Rameri sailed to the land of the Danaids, was married to 
 Uarda, and then remained in his wife's native country, 
 where, after the death of her grandfather, he ruled 
 over many islands of the Mediterranean, and became 
 the founder of a great and famous race. Uarda's name 
 was long held in tender remembrance by their subjects, 
 for having grown up in misery she understood the secret 
 of alleviating sorrow and relieving want, and of doing 
 good and giving happiness without humiliating those sh« 
 benefited. 
 
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