[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of thefile for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making anentire meal of them. D. W. ]

UARDA

Volume 8. 

By Georg Ebers

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

An hour later, Ani, in rich attire, left his father's tomb, and drove hisbrilliant chariot past the witch's cave, and the little cottage ofUarda's father. 

Nemu squatted on the step, the dwarf's usual place. The little manlooked 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 inthe early morning, dressed as a young scribe of the treasury, to obtainnews of Pentaur--and to stick a rose into Uarda's hair. 

This purpose was, indeed, the more important of the two, for the othermust, in point of time at any rate, be the second. 

He found it necessary to excuse himself to his own conscience with avariety of cogent reasons. In the first place the rose, which laycarefully secured in a fold of his robe, ran great danger of fading if hefirst waited for his companions near the temple of Seti; next, a hastyreturn from thence to Thebes might prove necessary; and finally, itseemed to him not impossible that Bent-Anat might send a master of theceremonies after him, and if that happened any delay might frustrate hispurpose. 

His heart beat loud and violently, not for love of the maiden, butbecause he felt he was doing wrong. The spot that he must tread wasunclean, and he had, for the first time, told a lie. He had givenhimself out to Uarda to be a noble youth of Bent-Anat's train, and, asone falsehood usually entails another, in answer to her questions he hadgiven her false information as to his parents and his life. 

Had evil more power over him in this unclean spot than in the House ofSeti, and at his father's? It might very well be so, for all disturbancein nature and men was the work of Seth, and how wild was the storm in hisbreast! 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 thewhite maiden must have been stolen from some one, and could not possiblybelong 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 cameout into the air, for the dog barked furiously at Rameri. When she sawthe prince, she started, and said:

"You are here already again, and yet I warned you. My grandmother inthere is the wife of a paraschites. "

"I am not come to visit her, " retorted the prince, "but you only; and youdo not belong to them, of that I am convinced. No roses grow in thedesert. "

"And yet: am my father's child, " said Uarda decidedly, "and my poor deadgrandfather's grandchild. Certainly I belong to them, and those that donot think me good enough for them may keep away. "

With these words she turned to re-enter the house; but Rameri seized herhand, and held her back, saying:

"How cruel you are! I tried to save you, and came to see you before Ithought that you might--and, indeed, you are quite unlike the people whomyou call your relations. You must not misunderstand me; but it would behorrible to me to believe that you, who are so beautiful, and as white asa lily, have any part in the hideous curse. You charm every one, even mymistress, 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; andit must be very difficult to continue good when every one despises andscorns one; I at least can be brought to no good by blame, though I canby praise. Certainly people are obliged to meet me and mine withrespect. "

"And us with contempt!" exclaimed Uarda. "But I will tell yousomething. If a man is sure that he is good, it is all the same tohim whether he be despised or honored by other people. Nay--we may beprouder than you; for you great folks must often say to yourselves thatyou are worth less than men value you at, and we know that we are worthmore. "

"I have often thought that of you, " exclaimed Rameri, "and there is onewho recognizes your worth; and that is I. Even if it were otherwise, Imust always--always think of you. "

"I have thought of you too, " said Uarda. "Just now, when I was sittingwith my sick grandmother, it passed through my mind how nice it would beif I had a brother just like you. Do you know what I should do if youwere my brother?"

"Well?"

"I should buy you a chariot and horse, and you should go away to theking's war. "

"Are you so rich?" asked Rameri smiling. 

"Oh yes!" answered Uarda. "To be sure, I have not been rich for morethan an hour. Can you read?"

"Yes. "

"Only think, when I was ill they sent a doctor to me from the House ofSeti. He was very clever, but a strange man. He often looked into myeyes like a drunken man, and he stammered when he spoke. "

"Is his name Nebsecht?" asked the prince. 

"Yes, Nebsecht. He planned strange things with grandfather, and afterPentaur and you had saved us in the frightful attack upon us heinterceded for us. Since then he has not come again, for I was alreadymuch better. Now to-day, about two hours ago, the dog barked, and an oldman, a stranger, came up to me, and said he was Nebsecht's brother, andhad 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 himfrom 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 inOsiris, Pinem--whose body the kolchytes are embalming like that of anoble--a sum of a thousand gold rings. These he has entrusted to hisbrother Teta to hold ready for her at any moment. She may trust Tetaentirely, 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 forher, and to buy her a house and field; then she could remove into it, andlive in it free from care with her grandmother. She may wait a year, andthen she may choose a husband. Nebsecht loves Uarda much. If at the endof thirteen months he has not been to see her, she had better marry whomshe will; but not before she has shown the jewel left her by her motherto the king's interpreter. "

"How strange!" exclaimed Rameri. "Who would have given the singularphysician, who always wore such dirty clothes, credit for suchgenerosity? 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 therein the middle on the onyx there are sharply engraved signs. I cannotread them, but I will show them to the interpreter. Did your mother wearthat?"

"My father found it on her when she died, " said Uarda. "She came toEgypt as a prisoner of war, and was as white as I am, but dumb, so shecould not tell us the name of her home. "

"She belonged to some great house among the foreigners, and the childreninherit from the mother, " cried the prince joyfully. "You are aprincess, 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 thedaughter of the unclean. "

"You are cruel, " replied the prince. "Shall I tell you what I determinedon yesterday, --what would not let me sleep last night, --and for what Icame here today?"

"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 thisflower with my own hands into your shining hair. May I?"

"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 islike 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 seeyou, they would be jealous, for you are fairer than all of them. "

"How you flatter!" said Uarda, shyly blushing, and looking into hissparkling eyes. 

"Uarda, " said the prince, pressing her hand to his heart. "I have nowbut one wish. Feel how my heart hammers and beats. I believe it willnever rest again till you--yes, Uarda--till you let me give you one, onlyone, kiss. "

The girl drew back. 

"Now, " she said seriously. "Now I see what you want. Old Hekt knowsmen, 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 makefriends with me. He would look into my eyes, and if mine met his, thenhe would ask to kiss me. But I must refuse him, because if I liked himto kiss me he would seize my soul, and take it from me, and I mustwander, like the restless ghosts, which the abyss rejects, and the stormwhirls before it, and the sea will not cover, and the sky will notreceive, soulless to the end of my days. Go away--for I cannot refuseyou 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. 

"She cannot be good, " cried the prince. "For she has spoken a falsehood. I will not seize your soul; I will give you mine to be yours, and youshall 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 havethought the same kind of thing. When I was strong, I often had to golate in the evening to fetch water from the landing-place where the greatwater-wheel stands. Thousands of drops fall from the earthenware pailsas it turns, and in each you can see the reflection of a moon, yet thereis only one in the sky. Then I thought to myself, so it must be with thelove in our hearts. We have but one heart, and yet we pour it out intoother hearts without its losing in strength or in warmth. I thought ofmy grandmother, of my father, of little Scherau, of the Gods, and ofPentaur. 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 thewhole 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 thebench in front of the house. The hedge shelters us, and besides thisvalley is now deserted, and there are no passers by. "

"We are doing what is not right, " said Uarda. "If it were right weshould 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!" laughed Uarda. "That shows you can write, and areone of his disciples. "

"His, his!" exclaimed Rameri. "You mean Pentaur. He was always thedearest to me of all my teachers, but it vexes me when you speak of himas 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, andthe Gods? I love no one else as I do you--and what I felt when youkissed me--that was not like moon-light, but like this hot mid-day sun. When I thought of you I had no peace. I will confess to you now, thattwenty times I looked out of the door, and asked whether my preserver--the kind, curly-headed boy--would really come again, or whether hedespised a poor girl like me? You came, and I am so happy, and I couldenjoy myself with you to my heart's content. Be kind again--or I willpull your hair!"

"You!" cried Rameri. "You cannot hurt with your little hands, thoughyou can with your tongue. Pentaur is much wiser and better than I, youowe much to him, and nevertheless I--"

"Let that rest, " interrupted the girl, growing grave. "He is not a manlike other men. If he asked to kiss me, I should crumble into dust, asashes dried in the sun crumble if you touch them with a finger, and Ishould be as much afraid of his lips as of a lion's. Though you maylaugh at it, I shall always believe that he is one of the Immortals. His own father told me that a great wonder was shown to him the very dayafter his birth. Old Hekt has often sent me to the gardener with amessage to enquire 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 hisflowers he grew fond of me, and set me to work to tie wreaths andbunches, and to carry them to his customers. As we sat together, layingthe 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 boyhe could write poems, and he learned to read before any one had shown himhow. The high-priest Ameni heard of it and took him to the House ofSeti, and there he improved, to the astonishment of the gardener; notlong ago I went through the garden with the old man. He talked ofPentaur as usual, and then stood still before a noble shrub with broadleaves, and said, My son is like this plant, which has grown up close tome, and I know not how. I laid the seed in the soil, with others that Ibought over there in Thebes; no one knows where it came from, and yet itis my own. It certainly is not a native of Egypt; and is not Pentaur ashigh above me and his mother and his brothers, as this shrub is above theother flowers? We are all small and bony, and he is tall and slim; ourskin is dark and his is rosy; our speech is hoarse, his as sweet as asong. I believe he is a child of the Gods that the Immortals have laidin my homely house. Who knows their decrees?' And then I often sawPentaur at the festivals, and asked myself which of the other priests ofthe 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 superhumanstrength must I not regard him as a superior Being? I look up to him asto one of them; but I could never look in his eyes as I do in yours. Itwould not make my blood flow faster, it would freeze it in my veins. Howcan I say what I mean! my soul looks straight out, and it finds you; butto find him it must look up to the heavens. You are a fresh rose-garlandwith which I crown myself--he is a sacred persea-tree before which Ibow. "

Rameri listened to her in silence, and then said, "I am still young, andhave done nothing yet, but the time shall come in which you shall look upto me too as to a tree, not perhaps a sacred tree, but as to a sycamoreunder whose shade we love to rest. I am no longer gay; I will leave youfor I have a serious duty to fulfil. Pentaur is a complete man, and Iwill be one too. But you shall be the rose-garland to grace me. Men whocan be compared 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, andwork for good and great ends; only look, my fingers are quite red withbeing held so tightly. But they too are not quite useless. They havenever done anything very hard certainly, but what they tend flourishes, and grandmother says they are 'lucky. ' Look at the lovely lilies and thepomegrenate bush in that corner. Grandfather brought the earth here fromthe Nile, Pentaur's father gave me the seeds, and each little plant thatventured to show a green shoot through the soil I sheltered and nursedand watered, though I had to fetch the water in my little pitcher, tillit was vigorous, and thanked me with flowers. Take this pomegranateflower. It is the first my tree has borne; and it is very strange, whenthe bud first began to lengthen and swell my grandmother said, 'Now yourheart will soon begin to bud and love. ' I know now what she meant, andboth the first flowers belong to you--the red one here off the tree, andthe other, which you cannot see, but which glows as brightly as thisdoes. "

Rameri pressed the scarlet blossom to his lips, and stretched out hishand toward Uarda; but she shrank back, for a little figure slippedthrough an opening in the hedge. 

It was Scherau. 

His pretty little face glowed with his quick run, and his breath wasgone. For a few minutes he tried in vain for words, and looked anxiouslyat 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 ofRameri, 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 before me. "

"I may?" said Scherau, "that is well. I have slipped away; Hektmay come back at any moment, and if she sees that I have taken myself offI shall get a beating and nothing to eat. "

"Who is this horrible Hekt?" asked Rameri indignantly. 

"That Uarda can tell you by and by, " said the little one hurriedly. "Nowonly listen. She laid me on my board in the cave, and threw a sack overme, and first came Nemu, and then another man, whom she spoke to asSteward. She talked to him a long time. At first I did not listen, butthen I caught the name of Pentaur, and I got my head out, and now Iunderstand it all. The steward declared that the good Pentaur waswicked, and stood in his way, and he said that Ameni was going to sendhim to the quarries at Chennu, but that that was much too small apunishment. Then Hekt advised him to give a secret commission to thecaptain 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 weretormented 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 drinkthat makes people mad. Oh! what I see and hear!--I would he contentedlyon my board all my life long, but all else is too horrible--I wish thatI were dead. "

And the child began to cry bitterly. 

Uarda, whose cheeks had turned pale, patted him affectionately; butRameri exclaimed:

"It is frightful! unheard of! But who was the steward? did you not hearhis name? Collect yourself, little man, and stop crying. It is a caseof life and death. Who was the scoundrel? Did she not name him? Try toremember. "

Scherau bit his red lips, and tried for composure. His tears ceased, andsuddenly he exclaimed, as he put his hand into the breast of his raggedlittle garment: "Stay, perhaps you will know him again--I made him!"

"You did what?" asked the prince. 

"I made him, " repeated the little artist, and he carefully brought out anobject wrapped up in a scrap of rag, "I could just see his head quiteclearly from one side all the time he was speaking, and my clay lay byme. I always must model something when my mind is excited, and this timeI quickly made his face, and as the image was successful, I kept it aboutme to show to the master when Hekt was out. "

While he spoke he had carefully unwrapped the figure with tremblingfingers, and had given it to Uarda. 

"Ani!" cried the prince. "He, and no other! Who could have thought it!What spite has he against Pentaur? 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--nowthat 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 withyour hands, Uarda, for if I had not seen your mother's jewel, and if Iwere not only a prince, but Horus himself, the son of Isis, I must haveloved you, and would not have given you up. But now other things have tobe 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!"

He would have hurried off, but Scherau held him by the robe, and saidtimidly: Thou sayst thou art Rameses' son. Hekt spoke of him too. Shecompared him to our moulting hawk. "

"She shall soon feel the talons of the royal eagle, " cried Rameri. "Oncemore, farewell!"

He gave Uarda his hand, she pressed it passionately to her lips, but hedrew it away, kissed her forehead, and was gone. 

The maiden looked after him pale and speechless. She saw another manhastening towards her, and recognizing him as her father, she wentquickly to meet him. The soldier had come to take leave of her, he hadto 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 couldhelp 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 Nebsecht's gift, and said:"Take me over the Nile, and in two hours you will have enough to make aman rich. 

 [It may be observed that among the Egyptian women were qualified to own and dispose of property. For example a papyrus (vii) in the Louvre contains an agreement between Asklepias (called Semmuthis), 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 therefore are of the same rank as Uarda. ]

But no; I cannot leave my sick grandmother. You yourself take the ring, and remember that Pentaur is being punished for having dared to protectus. "

"I remember it, " said the soldier. "I have but one life, but I willwillingly give it to save his. I cannot devise schemes, but I knowsomething, and if it succeeds he need not go to the gold-mines. I willput the wine-flask aside--give me a drink of water, for the next fewhours I must keep a sober head. "

"There is the water, and I will pour in a mouthful of wine. Will youcome back and bring me news?"

"That will not do, for we set sail at midnight, but if some one returnsto you with the ring you will know that what I propose has succeeded. "

Uarda went into the hut, her father followed her; he took leave of hissick mother and of his daughter. When they went out of doors again, hesaid: "You have to live on the princess's gift till I return, and I donot want half of the physician's present. But where is your pomegranateblossom?"

"I have picked it and preserved it in a safe place. "

"Strange things are women!" muttered the bearded man; he tenderly kissedhis child's forehead, and returned to the Nile down the road by which hehad come. 

The prince meanwhile had hurried on, and enquired in the harbor of theNecropolis where the vessel destined for Chennu was lying--for the shipsloaded with prisoners were accustomed to sail from this side of theriver, starting at night. Then he was ferried over the river, andhastened to Bent-Anat. He found her and Nefert in unusual excitement, for the faithful chamberlain had learned--through some friends of theking in Ani's suite--that the Regent had kept back all the lettersintended for Syria, and among them those of the royal family. 

A lord in waiting, who was devoted to the king, had been encouraged bythe chamberlain to communicate to Bent-Anat other things, which hardlyallowed any doubts as to the ambitious projects of her uncle; she wasalso exhorted to be on her guard with Nefert, whose mother was theconfidential adviser of the Regent. 

Bent-Anat smiled at this warning, and sent at once a message to Anito inform him that she was ready to undertake 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 hepermitted it, joining him at the camp. 

She imparted this plan to her friend, and Nefert thought any road bestthat would take her to her husband. 

Rameri was soon initiated into all this, and in return he told them allhe 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 whohad so lately been an overhearing mad-cap, that Bent-Anat thought toherself that the danger of their house had suddenly ripened a boy into aman. 

She had in fact no objection to raise to his arrangements. He proposedto travel after sunset, with a few faithful servants on swift horses asfar 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. From thencethey would cross the peninsula of Sinai, and strive to reach the Egyptianarmy by forced marches, and make the king acquainted with Ani's criminalattempts. 

To Bent-Anat was given the task of rescuing Pentaur, with the help of thefaithful chamberlain. 

Money was fortunately not wanting, as the high treasurer was on theirside. All depended on their inducing the captain to stop at Chennu; thepoet's fate would there, at the worst, be endurable. At the same time, atrustworthy messenger was to be sent to the governor of Chennu, commanding him in the name of the king to detain every ship that mightpass the narrows of Chennu by night, and to prevent any of the prisonersthat had been condemned to the quarries from being smuggled on toEthiopia. 

Rameri took leave of the two women, and he succeeded in leaving Thebesunobserved. 

Bent-Anat knelt in prayer before the images of her mother in Osiris, ofHathor, and of the guardian Gods of her house, till the chamberlainreturned, and told her that he had persuaded the captain of the ship tostop 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 thatif the chamberlain had failed in his mission, she would cross over to theNecropolis forbid the departure of the vessel, and in the last extremityrouse the people, who were devoted to her, against Ani. 

The following morning the Lady Katuti craved permission of the princessto see her daughter. Bent-Anat did not show herself to the widow, whoseefforts failed to keep her daughter from accompanying the princess onher journey, or to induce her to return home. Angry and uneasy, theindignant mother hastened to Ani, and implored him to keep Nefert at homeby force; but the Regent wished to avoid attracting attention, and to letBent-Anat set out with a feeling of complete security. 

"Do not be uneasy, " he said. "I will give the ladies a trustworthyescort, who will keep them at the Sanctuary of the 'Emerald-Hathor' tillall is settled. There you can deliver Nefert to Paaker, if you stilllike to have him for a son-in-law after hearing several things that Ihave learned. As for me, in the end I may induce my haughty niece tolook up instead of down; I may be her second love, though for thatmatter 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 withcoolness. The priesthood of the temple of Amon, with old Bek en Chunsuat their head, escorted her to the harbor. The people on the banksshouted Bent-Anat's name with a thousand blessings, but many insultingwords were to be heard also. 

The pilgrim's Nile-boat was followed by two others, full of soldiers, whoaccompanied the ladies "to protect them. "

The south-wind filled the sails, and carried the little processionswiftly down the stream. The princess looked now towards the palace ofher fathers, now towards the tombs and temples of the Necropolis. Atlast even the colossus of Anienophis disappeared, and the last houses ofThebes. The brave maiden sighed deeply, and tears rolled down herchecks. She felt as if she were flying after a lost battle, and yet notwholly discouraged, but hoping for future victory. As she turned to goto the cabin, a veiled girl stepped up to her, took the veil from herface, and said: "Pardon me, princess; I am Uarda, whom thou didst runover, 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 wishto 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 hiswish to place a rose in Uarda's shining tresses. 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

Two months had past since Bent-Anat's departure from Thebes, and theimprisonment of Pentaur. Ant-Baba is the name of the valley, in thewestern half of the peninsula of Sinai, [I have described in detail the peninsula of Sinai, its history, and the sacred places on it, in my book "Durch Gosen zum Sinai, " published in 1872. In depicting this scenery in the present romance, I have endeavored to reproduce the reality as closely as possible. He who has wandered through this wonderful mountain wilderness can never forget it. The valley now called "Laba, " bore the same name in the time of the Pharaohs. ]

through which a long procession of human beings, and of beasts of burden, wended their way. 

It was winter, and yet the mid-day sun sent down glowing rays, whichwere reflected from the naked rocks. In front of the caravan marcheda company of Libyan soldiers, and another brought up the rear. Each manwas armed with a dagger and battle-axe, a shield and a lance, and wasready to use his weapons; for those whom they were escorting wereprisoners from the emerald-mines, who had been convoyed to the shores ofthe 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 wereto be carried to the storehouses of the mountain mines. Bent andpanting, they made their way along. Each prisoner had a copper chainriveted round his ankles, and torn rags hanging round their loins, werethe only clothing of these unhappy beings, who, gasping under the weightof the sacks they had to carry, kept their staring eyes fixed on theground. If one of them threatened to sink altogether under his burden, he was refreshed by the whip of one of the horsemen, who accompanied thecaravan. Many a one found it hard to choose whether he could best endurethe suffering of mere endurance, or the torture of the lash. 

No one spoke a word, neither the prisoners nor their guards; and eventhose 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 pitythan there was a green herb on the rocks by the way. This melancholyprocession moved silently onwards, like a procession of phantoms, andthe ear was only made aware of it when now and then a low groan brokefrom one of the victims. 

The sandy path, trodden by their naked feet, gave no sound, the mountainsseemed to withhold their shade, the light of clay was a torment--everything far and near seemed inimical to the living. Not a plant, not acreeping thing, showed itself against the weird forms of the barren greyand brown rocks, and no soaring bird tempted the oppressed wretches toraise their eyes to heaven. 

In the noontide heat of the previous day they had started with theirloads from the harbor-creek. For two hours they had followed the shoreof the glistening, blue-green sea, [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. "]

then they had climbed a rocky shoulder and crossed a small plateau. Theyhad paused for their night's rest in the gorge which led to the mines;the guides and soldiers lighted fires, grouped themselves round them, andlay down to sleep under the shelter of a cleft in the rocks; theprisoners stretched themselves on the earth in the middle of the valleywithout any shelter, and shivering with the cold which suddenly succeededthe glowing heat of the day. The benumbed wretches now looked forward tothe crushing misery of the morning's labor as eagerly as, a few hourssince, they had longed for the night, and for rest. 

Lentil-broth and hard bread in abundance, but a very small quantity ofwater was given to them before they started; then they set out throughthe gorge, which grew hotter and hotter, and through ravines where theycould pass only one by one. Every now and then it seemed as if the pathcame to an end, but each time it found an outlet, and went on--as endlessas the torment of the wayfarers. 

Mighty walls of rock composed the view, looking as if they were formed ofangular 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 evervarioushand of Nature. 

This one had broader shoulders than his companions, and his burdenWeighed on him comparatively lightly. "In this solitude, " thought he, "which repels man, and forbids his passing his life here, the Chnemu, the laborers who form the world, have spared themselves the trouble offilling up the seams, and rounding off the corners. How is it that Manshould have dedicated this hideous land--in which even the human heartseems to be hardened against all pity--to the merciful Hathor? Perhapsbecause it so sorely stands in need of the joy and peace which the lovinggoddess alone can bestow. "

"Keep the line, Huni!" shouted a driver. 

The man thus addressed, closed up to the next man, the panting leechNebsecht. We know the other stronger prisoner. It is Pentaur, who hadbeen entered as Huni on the lists of mine-laborers, and was called bythat 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 ofman, lay in great heaps, or strewed the path which led up the almostperpendicular cliff by imperceptible degrees. Here another gorge openedbefore 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 wereeased, to put the extra burthens on the inen. Putting forth their utmoststrength, the overloaded men labored up the steep and hardlydistinguishable 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 a narrow defilecould not reach the bearers, threw a stone at him to urge him to arenewed effort. 

The old man cried out at the blow, and at the cry--the paraschitesstricken down with stones--his own struggle with the mob--and theappearance of Bent Anat flashed into Pentaur's lnernory. Pity and asense of his own healthy vigor prompted him to energy; he hastilysnatched the sack from the shoulders of the old man, threw it over hisown, helped up the fallen wretch, and finally men and beasts succeeded inmounting the rocky wall. 

The pulses throbbed in Pentaur's temples, and he shuddered with horror, as he looked down from the height of the pass into the abyss below, andround upon the countless pinnacles and peaks, cliffs and precipices, inmany-colored rocks-white and grey, sulphurous yellow, blood-red andominous black. He recalled the sacred lake of Muth in Thebes, roundwhich sat a hundred statues of the lion-headed Goddess in black basalt, each on a pedestal; and the rocky peaks, which surrounded the valley athis feet, seemed to put on a semblance of life and to move and open theiryawning jaws; through the wild rush of blood in his ears he fancied heheard them roar, and the load beyond his strength which he carried gavehim a sensation as though their clutch was on his breast. 

Nevertheless he reached the goal. 

The other prisoners flung their loads from their shoulders, and threwthemselves down to rest. Mechanically he did the same: his pulses beatmore calmly, by degrees the visions faded from his senses, he saw andheard once more, and his brain recovered its balance. The old man andNebsecht were lying beside him. 

His grey-haired companion rubbed the swollen veins in his neck, andcalled down all the blessings of the Gods upon his head; but the captainof the caravan cut him short, exclaiming:

"You have strength for three, Huni; farther on, we will load you moreheavily. "

"How much the kindly Gods care for our prayers for the blessing ofothers!" exclaimed Nebsecht. "How well they know how to reward a goodaction!"

"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. "Myknees shake like theirs, and I think and I wish neither more nor lessthan 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 staring up into the sky. The intellect, say the priestly sages, is a vivifying breath of theeternal spirit, and our soul is the mould or core for the mass of matterwhich we call a human being. I sought the spirit at first in the heart, 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 tootired to enter on further evidence, but for the future I shall treat mylegs with the utmost consideration. "

"Quarrelling again you two? On again, men!" cried the driver. 

The weary wretches rose slowly, the beasts were loaded, and on went thepitiable procession, so as to reach the mines before sunset. 

The destination of the travellers was a wide valley, closed in by twohigh and rocky mountain-slopes; it was called Ta Mafka by the Egyptians, Dophka by the Hebrews. The southern cliff-wall consisted of darkgranite, the northern of red sandstone; in a distant branch of the valleylay the mines in which copper was found. In the midst of the valley rosea hill, surrounded by a wall, and crowned with small stone houses, forthe guard, the officers, and the overseers. According to the oldregulations, they were without roofs, but as many deaths and muchsickness had occurred among the workmen in consequence of the coldnights, they had been slightly sheltered with palm-branches brought fromthe oasis of the Alnalckites, 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 greenglass was prepared, which was brought into the market under the name ofMafkat, that is to say, emerald. The genuine precious stone was foundfarther to the south, on the western shore of the Red Sea, and was highlyprized in Egypt. 

Our friends had already for more than a month belonged to the mining-community of the Mafkat valley, and Pentaur had never learned how it wasthat he had been brought hither with his companion Nebsecht, instead ofgoing to the sandstone quarries of Chennu. 

That Uarda's father had effected this change was beyond a doubt, and thepoet trusted the rough but honest soldier who still kept near him, andgave him credit for the best intentions, although he had only spoken tohim once since their departure from Thebes. 

That was the first night, when he had come up to Pentaur, and whispered:"I am looking after you. You will find the physician Nebsecht here; buttreat each other as enemies rather than as friends, if you do not wish tobe parted. "

Pentaur had communicated the soldier's advice to Nebsecht, and he hadfollowed it in his own way. 

It afforded him a secret pleasure to see how Pentaur's life contradictedthe belief in a just and beneficent ordering of the destinies of men; andthe more he and the poet were oppressed, the more bitter was the irony, often amounting to extravagance, with which the mocking sceptic attackedhim. 

He loved Pentaur, for the poet had in his keeping the key which alonecould give admission to the beautiful world which lay locked up in hisown soul; but yet it was easy to him, if he thought they were observed, to play his part, and to overwhelm Pentaur with words which, to thedrivers, were devoid of meaning, and which made them laugh by the strangeblundering fashion in which he stammered them out. 

"A belabored husk of the divine self-consciousness. " "An advocate ofrighteousness hit on the mouth. " "A juggler who makes as much of thisworst of all possible worlds as if it were the best. " "An admirer of thelovely color of his blue bruises. " These and other terms of invective, intelligible only to himself and his butt, he could always pour out innew combinations, exciting Pentaur to sharp and often witty rejoinders, equally unintelligible to the uninitiated. 

Frequently their sparring took the form of a serious discussion, whichserved a double purpose; first their minds, accustomed to seriousthought, found exercise in spite of the murderous pressure of the burdenof forced labor, and secondly, they were supposed really to be enemies. They slept in the same court-yard, and contrived, now and then, toexchange a few words in secret; but by day Nebsecht worked in theturquoise-diggings, and Pentaur in the mines, for the careful chippingout of the precious stones from their stony matrix was the work bestsuited to the slight physician, while Pentaur's giant-strength was fittedfor hewing the ore out of the hard rock. The drivers often looked insurprise at his powerful strokes, as he flung his pick against the stone. 

The stupendous images that in such moments of wild energy rose before thepoet's soul, the fearful or enchanting tones that rang in his spirit'sear-none could guess at. 

Usually his excited fancy showed him the form of Bent-Anat, surroundedby 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-axe, and spread out his arms--but only to drop themwith a deep groan, and wipe the sweat from his brow. 

The overseers did not know what to think of this powerful youth, whooften was as gentle as a child, and then seemed possessed of that demonto which so many of the convicts fell victims. He had indeed become ariddle to himself; for how was it that he--the gardener's son, brought upin the peaceful temple of Seti--ever since that night by the house of theparaschites had had such a perpetual craving for conflict and struggle?

The weary gangs were gone to rest; a bright fire still blazed in front ofthe house of the superintendent of the mines, and round it squatted in acircle the overseers and the subalterns of the troops. 

"Put the wine-jar round again, " said the captain, "for we must hold gravecouncil. Yesterday I had orders from the Regent to send half the guardto Pelusium. He requires soldiers, but we are so few in number that ifthe 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 andchisel. Things are worst among the Hebrews in the copper-mines; they area refractory crew that must be held tight. You know me well, fear isunknown to me--but I feel great anxiety. The last fuel is now burning inthis fire, and the smelting furnaces and the glass-foundry must not standidle. Tomorrow we must send men to Raphidim

 [The oasis at the foot of Horeb, where the Jews under Joshua's command conquered the Amalekites, while Aaron and Hur held up Moses' arms. Exodus 17, 8. ]

to obtain charcoal from the Amalekites. They owe us a hundred loadsstill. Load the prisoners with some copper, to make them tired and thenatives civil. What can we do to procure what we want, and yet not toweaken the forces here too much?"

Various opinions were given, and at last it was settled that a smalldivision, guarded by a few soldiers, should be sent out every day tosupply only the daily need for charcoal. 

It was suggested that the most dangerous of the convicts should befettered together in pairs to perform their duties. 

The superintendent was of opinion that two strong men fettered togetherwould 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 themines, whom the Egyptians called the 'scribe of the metals. ' "And fetterthose together who are enemies. "

"The colossal Huni, for instance, to that puny spat row, the stutteringNebsecht, " said a subaltern. 

"I was thinking of that very couple, " said the accountant laughing. 

Three other couples were selected, at first with some laughter, butfinally with serious consideration, and Uarda's father was sent with thedrivers as an escort. 

On the following morning Pentaur and Nebsecht were fettered together witha copper chain, and when the sun was at its height four pairs ofprisoners, heavily loaded with copper, set out for the Oasis of theAmalekites, accompanied 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 forward again betweenbare walls of greyish-green and red porphyry. These cliffs rose higherand higher, but from time to time, above the lower range, they could seethe rugged summit of some giant of the range, though, bowed under theirheavy loads, they paid small heed to it. 

The sun was near setting when they reached the little sanctuary of the'Emerald-Hathor. '

A few grey and black birds here flew towards them, and Pentaur gazed atthem with delight. 

How long be had missed the sight of a bird, and the sound of their chirpand song! Nebsecht said: "There are some birds--we must be near water. "

And there stood the first palm-tree!

Now the murmur of the brook was perceptible, and its tiny sound touchedthe thirsty souls of the travellers as rain falls on dry grass. 

On the left bank of the stream an encampment of Egyptian soldiers formeda large semicircle, enclosing three large tents made of costly materialstriped with blue and white, and woven with gold thread. Nothing was tobe seen of the inhabitants of these tents, but when the prisoners hadpassed them, and the drivers were exchanging greetings with the out-posts, a girl, in the long robe of an Egyptian, came towards them, andlooked at them. 

Pentaur started as if he had seen a ghost; but Nebsecht gave expressionto his astonishment in a loud cry. 

At the same instant a driver laid his whip across their shoulders, andcried laughing:

"You may hit each other as hard as you like with words, but not with yourhands. "

Then be turned to his companions, and said: "Did you see the pretty girlthere, in front of the tent?"

"It is nothing to us!" answered the man he addressed. "She belongs tothe princess's train. She has been three weeks here on a visit to theholy shrine of Hathor. "

"She must have committed some heavy sin, " replied the other. "If shewere one of us, she would have been set to sift sand in the diggings, orgrind 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 hadsigned to him, and exchanged a few words with him. 

"Have you still an eye for the fair ones?" asked the youngest of thedrivers when be rejoined the gang. 

"She is a waiting maid of the princess, " replied the soldier not withoutembarrassment. "To-morrow morning we are to carry a letter from her tothe scribe of the mines, and if we encamp in the neighborhood she willsend us some wine for carrying it. "

"The old red-beard scents wine as a fox scents a goose. Let us encamphere; one never knows what may be picked up among the Mentu, and thesuperintendent said we were to encamp outside the oasis. Put down yoursacks, men! Here there is fresh water, and perhaps a few dates and sweetManna for you to eat with it. 

 ["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. ]

But keep the peace, you two quarrelsome fellows--Huni and Nebsecht. "

Bent-Anat's journey to the Emerald-Hathor was long since ended. As faras Keft she had sailed down the Nile with her escort, from thence she hadcrossed the desert by easy marches, and she had been obliged to wait afull week in the port on the Red Sea, which was chiefly inhabited byPhoenicians, for a ship which had finally brought her to the littleseaport of Pharan. From Pharan she had crossed the mountains to theoasis, where the sanctuary she was to visit stood on the northern side. 

The old priests, who conducted the service of the Goddess, had receivedthe daughter of Rameses with respect, and undertook to restore her tocleanness by degrees with the help of the water from the mountain-streamwhich watered the palm-grove of the Amalekites, of incense-burning, ofpious sentences, and of a hundred other ceremonies. At last the Goddessdeclared herself satisfied, and Bent-Anat wished to start for the northand join her father, but the commander of the escort, a grey-headedEthiopian field officer--who had been promoted to a high grade by Ani--explained to the Chamberlain that he had orders to detain the princess inthe oasis until her departure was authorized by the Regent himself. 

Bent-Anat now hoped for the support of her father, for her brotherRameri, if no accident had occurred to him, might arrive any day. But in vain. 

The position of the ladies was particularly unpleasant, for they feltthat they had been caught in a trap, and were in fact prisoners. Inaddition to this their Ethiopian escort had quarrelled with the nativesof 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, whichhad always borne her so high above other women--her princely pride andher bright frankness--seemed quite broken; she felt that she had lovedonce, never to love again, and that she, who had sought none of herhappiness in dreams, but all in work, had bestowed the best half of heridentity on a vision. Pentaur's image took a more and more vivid, and atthe same time nobler and loftier, aspect in her mind; but he himself haddied for her, for only once had a letter reached them from Egypt, andthat was from Katuti to Nefert. After telling her that late intelligenceestablished the statement that her husband had taken a prince's daughter, who had been made prisoner, to his tent as his share of the booty, sheadded the information that the poet Pentaur, who had been condemned toforced 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 husband was faithfulto his love for her, and the magic charm of a nature made beautiful byits perfect mastery over a deep and pure passion made itself felt inthese sad and heavy days. 

It seemed as though she had changed parts with Bent-Anat. Alwayshopeful, every day she foretold help from the king for the next; in truthshe was ready to believe that, when Mena learned from Rameri that she waswith the princess, he himself would come to fetch them if his dutiesallowed it. In her hours of most lively expectation she could go so faras to picture how the party in the tents would be divided, and who wouldbear Bent-Anat company if Mena took her with him to his camp, on whatspot of the oasis it would be best to pitch it, and much more in the samevein. 

Uarda could very well take her place with Bent-Anat, for the child haddeveloped and improved on the journey. The rich clothes which theprincess had given her became her as if she had never worn any others;she could obey discreetly, disappear at the right moment, and, when shewas invited, chatter delightfully. Her laugh was silvery, and nothingconsoled Bent-Anat so much as to hear it. 

Her songs too pleased the two friends, though the few that she knew weregrave and sorrowful. She had learned them by listening to old Hekt, whooften used to play on a lute in the dusk, and who, when she perceivedthat Uarda caught the melodies, had pointed out her faults, and given heradvice. 

"She may some day come into my hands, " thought the witch, "and the bettershe sings, the better she will be paid. "

Bent-Anat too tried to teach Uarda, but learning to read was not easy tothe girl, however much pains she might take. Nevertheless, the princesswould not give up the spelling, for here, at the foot of the immensesacred mountain at whose summit she gazed with mixed horror and longing, she was condemned to inactivity, which weighed the more heavily on her inproportion as those feelings had to be kept to herself which she longedto escape from in work. Uarda knew the origin of her mistress's deepgrief, and revered her for it, as if it were something sacred. Often shewould speak of Pentaur and of his father, and always in such a mannerthat the princess could not guess that she knew of their love. 

When the prisoners were passing Bent-Anat's tent, she was sitting withinwith Nefert, and talking, as had become habitual in the hours of dusk, ofher father, of Mena, Rameri, and Pentaur. 

"He is still alive, " asserted Nefert. "My mother, you see, says that noone knows with certainty what became of him. If he escaped, he beyond adoubt tried to reach the king's camp, and when we get there you will findhim with your father. "

The princess looked sadly at the ground. Nefert looked affectionately ather, and asked:

"Are you thinking of the difference in rank which parts you from the manyou have chosen?"

"The man to whom I offer my hand, I put in the rank of a prince, " saidBent-Anat. "But if I could set Pentaur on a throne, as master of theworld, 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 knoweverything 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 weaving. "

Nefert rose, went to the door of the tent, and there met Uarda; sheseized Nefert's hand, and silently drew her out into the air. 

"What is the matter, child? you are trembling, " Nefert exclaimed. 

"My father is here, " answered Uarda hastily. "He is escorting someprisoners from the mines of Mafkat. Among them there are two chainedtogether, and one of them--do not be startled--one of them is the poetPentaur. Stop, for God's sake, stop, and hear me. Twice before I haveseen my father when he has been here with convicts. To-day we mustrescue Pentaur; but the princess must know nothing of it, for if my planfails--"

"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 thename of the princess, and out of Bent-Anat's case of medicines take thephial 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 Uardawith a skin of wine. Then she went back to the princess's tent, andopened the medicine case. 

 [A medicine case, belonging to a more ancient period than the reign of Rameses, is preserved in the Berlin Museum. ]

"What do you want?" asked Bent-Anat. 

"A remedy for palpitation, " replied Nefert; she quietly took the flaskshe 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 theliquor. While she pretended to drink it, she poured the whole contentsof the phial into the wine, and then let Bent-Anat's bountiful present becarried to the thirsty drivers. 

She herself went towards the kitchen tent, and found a young Amalekitesitting on the ground with the princess's servants. He sprang up as soonas he saw the damsel. 

"I have brought four fine partridges, "

 [A brook springs on the peak called by the Sinaitic monks Mr. St. Katherine, which is called the partridge's spring, and of which many legends are told. For instance, God created it for the partridges which accompanied the angels who carried St. Katharine of Alexandria to her tomb on Sinai. ]

he said, "which I snared myself, and I have brought this turquoise foryou--my brother found it in a rock. This stone brings good luck, and isgood for the eyes; it gives victory over our enemies, and keeps away baddreams. "

"Thank you!" said Uarda, and taking the boy's hand, as he gave her thesky-blue stone, she led him forward into the dusk. 

"Listen, Salich" she said softly, as soon as she thought they were farenough from the others. "You are a good boy, and the maids told me thatyou 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 bringingme flowers, 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 thegreat lady Bent-Anat, who will come here to-night, must be hidden for aday, perhaps several days, from his pursuers. Can he, or rather canthey, for there will probably be two, find shelter and protection in yourfather's house, which lies high up there on the sacred mountain?"

"Whoever I take to my father, " said the boy, "will be made welcome; andwe defend our guests first, and then ourselves. Where are thestrangers?"

"They will arrive in a few hours. Will you wait here till the moon iswell up?"

"Till the last of all the thousand moons that vanish behind the hills isset. "

"Well then, wait on the other side of the stream, and conduct the man toyour 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 received there by yourfather, come back and tell me. I will watch for you here at the door ofthe tent. I am poor, alas! and cannot reward you, but the princess willthank your father as a princess should. Be watchful, Salich!"

The girl vanished, and went to the drivers of the gang of prisoners, wished them a merry and pleasant evening, and then hastened back to Bent-Anat, who anxiously stroked her abundant hair, and asked her why she wasso pale. 

"Lie down, " said the princess kindly, "you are feverish. Only look, Nefert, I can see the blood coursing through the blue veins in herforehead. "

Meanwhile the drivers drank, praised the royal wine, and the lucky day onwhich they drank it; and when Uarda's father suggested that the prisonerstoo should have a mouthful one of his fellow soldiers cried: "Aye, letthe poor beasts be jolly too for once. "

The red-beard filled a large beaker, and offered it first to a forger andhis fettered companion, then he approached Pentaur, and whispered:

"Do not drink any-keep awake!"

As he was going to warn the physician too, one of his companions camebetween them, and offering his tankard to Nebsecht said:

"Here mumbler, drink; see him pull! His stuttering mouth is spry enoughfor drinking!"

CHAPTER XXXV. 

The hours passed gaily with the drinkers, then they grew more and moresleepy. 

Ere the moon was high in the heavens, while they were all sleeping, withthe exception of Kaschta and Pentaur, the soldier rose softly. Helistened to the breathing of his companions, then he approached the poet, unfastened the ring which fettered his ankle to that of Nebsecht, andendeavored to wake the physician, but in vain. 

"Follow me!" cried he to the poet; he took Nebsecht on his shoulders, andwent towards 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 ofNebsecht. "

"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 ofhis companions, who now pushed and now dragged him, he staggered andstumbled up the rugged mountain path, and before midnight they reachedtheir destination, the hut of the Amalekite. 

The old hunter was asleep, but his son aroused him, and told him whatUarda had ordered and promised. 

But no promises were needed to incite the worthy mountaineer tohospitality. He received the poet with genuine friendliness, laid thesleeping leech on a mat, prepared a couch for Pentaur of leaves andskins, called his daughter to wash his feet, and offered him his ownholiday garment in the place of the rags that covered his body. 

Pentaur stretched himself out on the humble couch, which to him seemedsofter than the silken bed of a queen, but on which nevertheless he couldnot sleep, for the thoughts and fancies that filled his heart were toooverpowering and bewildering. 

The stars still sparkled in the heavens when he sprang from his bed ofskins, lifted Nebsecht on to it, and rushed out into the open air. Afresh 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 bodyand limbs. He felt as if he must cleanse himself to his very soul, notonly 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, hefelt clean and fresh as on the morning of a feast-day at the temple ofSeti, when he had bathed and dressed himself in robes of snow-whitelinen. He took the hunter's holiday dress, put it on, and went out ofdoors again. 

The enormous masses of rock lay dimly before him, like storm-clouds, andover his head spread the blue heavens with their thousand stars. 

The soothing sense of freedom and purity raised his soul, and the airthat he breathed was so fresh and light, that he sprang up the path tothe summit of the peak as if he were borne on wings or carried byinvisible hands. 

A mountain goat which met him, turned from him, and fled bleating, withhis mate, to a steep peak of rock, but Pentaur said to the frightenedbeasts:

"I shall do nothing to you--not I"

He paused on a little plateau at the foot of the jagged granite peak ofthe mountain. Here again he heard the murmur of a spring, the grassunder his feet was damp, and covered with a film of ice, in which weremirrored the stars, now gradually fading. He looked up at the lights inthe sky, those never-tarrying, and yet motionless wanderers-away, to themountain heights around him-down, into the gorge below--and far off, intothe distance. 

The dusk slowly grew into light, the mysterious forms of the mountain-chain took shape and stood up with their shining points, the light cloudswere swept away like smoke. Thin vapors rose from the oasis and theother valleys at his feet, at first in heavy masses, then they parted andwere wafted, as if in sport, above and beyond him to the sky. Far belowhim soared a large eagle, the only living creature far or near. 

A solemn and utter silence surrounded him, and when the eagle swoopeddown and vanished from his sight, and the mist rolled lower into thevalley, he felt that here, alone, he was high above all other livingbeings, and standing nearer to the Divinity. 

He drew his breath fully and deeply, he felt as he had felt in the firsthours after his initiation, when for the first time he was admitted tothe holy of holies--and yet quite different. 

Instead of the atmosphere loaded with incense, he breathed a light pureair; and the deep stillness of the mountain solitude possessed his soulmore strongly than the chant of the priests. 

Here, it seemed to him, that the Divine being would hear the lightestmurmur of his lips, though indeed his heart was so full of gratitude anddevotion that his impulse was to give expression to his mighty flow offeelings in jubilant song. But his tongue seemed tied; he knelt down insilence, to pray and to praise. 

Then he looked at the panorama round him. Where was the east which inEgypt was clearly defined by the long Nile range? Down there where itwas beginning to be light over the oasis. To his right hand lay thesouth, the sacred birth-place of the Nile, the home of the Gods of theCataracts; but here flowed no mighty stream, and where was there a shrinefor the visible manifestation of Osiris and Isis; of Horns, born of alotus flower in a thicket of papyrus; of Rennut, the Goddess ofblessings, and of Zeta? To which of them could he here lift his hands inprayer?

A faint breeze swept by, the mist vanished like a restless shade at theword of the exorcist, the many-pointed crown of Sinai stood out in sharprelief, and below them the winding valleys, and the dark colored ripplingsurface of the lake, became distinctly visible. 

All was silent, all untouched by the hand of man yet harmonized to onegreat 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 Guideon the way;" but he dared not; and how infinitely small did the Gods nowseem to him, the Gods he had so often glorified to the multitude ininspired words, the Gods that had no meaning, no dwelling-place, nodominion but by the Nile. 

"To ye, " he murmured, "I cannot pray! Here where my eye can pierce thedistance, 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 hisbreast as he spoke--a flood of thankfulness and praise. 

When he rose from his knees, a man was standing by him; his eyes werepiercing and his tall figure had the dignity of a king, in spite of hisherdsman's dress. 

"It is well for you!" said the stranger in deep slow accents. "You seekthe true God. "

Pentaur looked steadily into the face of the bearded man before him. 

"I know you now, " he said. "You are Mesu. --[Moses]--I was but a boy whenyou left the temple of Seti, but your features 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 theeastern horizon, which every moment grew brighter. 

The heavens glowed with purple, and the granite peaks, each sheathed in afilm of ice, sparkled and shone like dark diamonds that had been dippedin light. 

The day-star rose, and Pentaur turned to it, and prostrated himself ashis custom was. When he rose, Mesu also was kneeling on the earth, buthis back was turned to the sun. 

When he had ended his prayer, Pentaur said, "Why do you turn your back onthe manifestation of the Sun-god? We were taught to look towards himwhen he approaches. "

"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 foot-stool, the storm is his breath, and the sea is in his sight as the dropson the grass. "

"Teach me to know the Mighty One whom you worship!" exclaimed Pentaur. 

"Seek him, " said Mesu, "and you will find him; for you have passedthrough misery and suffering, and on this spot on such a morning as thiswas He revealed to me. "

The stranger turned away, and disappeared behind a rock from theenquiring gaze of Pentaur, who fixed his eyes on the distance. 

Then he thoughtfully descended the valley, and went towards the hut ofthe hunter. He stayed his steps when he heard men's voices, but therocks hid the speakers from his sight. 

Presently he saw the party approaching; the son of his host, a man inEgyptian 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 hercompanions. They disappeared by the hunter's cottage, but he stoodstill, 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 onthe porphyry cliff behind him, he did not see a woman now coming quicklytowards him; but, like a deaf man who has suddenly acquired the sense ofhearing, he started when he heard his name spoken--by whose lips?

"Pentaur!" she said again; the poet opened his arms, and Bent-Anat fellupon his breast; and he held her to him, clasped, as though he must holdher there and never part from her all his life long. 

Meanwhile the princess's companions were resting by the hunter's littlehouse. 

"She flew into his arms--I saw it, " said Uarda. "Never shall I forgetit. It was as if the bright lake there had risen up to embrace themountain. "

"Where do you find such fancies, child ?" cried Nefert. 

"In my heart, deep in my heart!" cried Uarda. "I am so unspeakablyhappy. "

"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 thatthe 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 Truthis like Bent-Anat, and there is not another man in Egypt like Pentaur. "

Nefert was silent for awhile; then she asked softly: "Did you ever seeMena?"

"How should I?" replied the girl. "Wait a little while, and your turnwill come. I believe that to-day I can read the future like aprophetess. 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 mouthwide 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 willwake him. "

She pulled a blade of grass out of the heap on which he was lying, andsaucily tickled his nose. 

Nebsecht raised himself, sneezed, but fell back asleep again; Uardalaughed out with her clear silvery tones. Then she blushed--"That is notright, " she said, "for he is good and generous. "

She took the sleeper's hand, pressed it to her lips, and wiped the dropsfrom his brow. Then he awoke, opened his eyes, and muttered half in adream still:

"Uarda--sweet Uarda. "

The girl started up and fled, and Nefert followed her. 

When Nebsecht at last got upon his feet and looked round him, he foundhimself alone in a strange house. He went out of doors, where he foundBent-Anat's little train anxiously discussing things past and to come. 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

The inhabitants of the oasis had for centuries been subject to thePharaohs, and paid them tribute; and among the rights granted to them inreturn, no Egyptian soldier might cross their border and territorywithout their permission. 

The Ethiopians had therefore pitched Bent-Anat's tents and their own campoutside these limits; but various transactions soon took place betweenthe idle warriors and the Amalekites, which now and then led to quarrels, and which one evening threatened serious consequences, when some drunkensoldiers had annoyed the Amalekite women while they were drawing water. 

This morning early one of the drivers on awaking had missed Pentaur andNebsecht, and he roused his comrades, who had been rejoined by Uarda'sfather. The enraged guard of the gang of prisoners hastened to thecommandant of the Ethiopians, and informed him that two of his prisonershad escaped, and were no doubt being kept in concealment by theAmalekites. 

The Amalekites met the requisition to surrender the fugitives, of whomthey knew nothing, with words of mockery, which so enraged the officerthat he determined to search the oasis throughout by force, and when hefound his emissaries treated with scorn he advanced with the larger partof his troops on to the free territory of the Amalekites. 

The sons of the desert flew to arms; they retired before the close orderof the Egyptian troops, who followed them, confident of victory, to apoint 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, and as soon as the unsuspicious Ethiopians had marched past the hill, they threw themselves on the rear of the astonished invaders, while thosein 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 rageand only slightly wounded, put himself at the head of the remainder ofBent-Anat's body-guard, ordered the escort of the prisoners also tofollow him, and once more advanced into the oasis. 

That the princess might escape him had never for an instant occurred tohim, but as soon as the last of her keepers had disappeared, Bent-Anatexplained to her chamberlain and her companions that now or never was themoment to fly. 

All her people were devoted to her; they loaded themselves with the mostnecessary things for daily use, took the litters and beasts of burdenwith them, and while the battle was raging in the valley, Salich guidedthem up the heights of Sinai to his father's house. 

It was on the way thither that Uarda had prepared the princess for themeeting she might expect at the hunter's cottage, and we have seen howand where the princess found the poet. 

Hand in hand they wandered together along the mountain path till theycame to a spot shaded by a projection of the rock, Pentaur pulled somemoss to make a seat, they reclined on it side by side, and there openedtheir hearts, and told each other of their love and of their sufferings, their wanderings and escapes. 

At noonday the hunter's daughter came to offer them a pitcher full ofgoat's milk, and Bent-Anat filled the gourd again and again for the manshe loved; and waiting upon him thus, her heart overflowed with pride, and his with the humble desire to be permitted to sacrifice his blood andlife for her. 

Hitherto they had been so absorbed in the present and the past, that theyhad not given a thought to the future, and while they repeated a hundredtimes what each had long since known, and yet could never tire ofhearing, they forgot the immediate changes which was hanging over them. 

After their humble meal, the surging flood of feeling which, ever sincehis morning devotions, had overwhelmed the poet's soul, grew calmer; hehad felt as if borne through the air, but now he set foot, so to speak, on the earth again, and seriously considered with Bent-Anat what stepsthey must take in the immediate future. 

The light of joy, which beamed in their eyes, was little in accordancewith the grave consultation they held, as, hand in hand, they descendedto the hut of their humble host. 

The hunter, guided by his daughter, met them half way, and with him atall 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 hadheard that the princess was detained in the oasis by force by theEthiopian troops, and the desert-prince, Abocharabos, now informed them, not without pride, that the Ethiopian soldiers, all but a few who werehis prisoners, had been exterminated by his people; at the same time heassured 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 hadalways respected their rights. 

"They are accustomed, " he added, "to fight against the cowardly dogs ofKush; but we are men, and we can fight like the lions of our wilds. Ifwe are outnumbered we hide like the goats in clefts of the rocks. "

Bent-Anat, who was pleased with the daring man, his flashing eyes, hisaquiline 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'scamp under the protection of Pentaur, her future husband. 

The mountain chief had gazed attentively at Pentaur and at Bent-Anatwhile she spoke; then he said: "Thou, princess, art like the moon, andthy companion is like the Sun-god Dusare. Besides Abocharabos, " and hestruck 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. Buthaste will be necessary, for I must be back before the traitor who nowrules over Mizraim, --[The Semitic name of Egypt]--and who persecutes you, can send fresh forces against us. Now you can go down again to thetents, not a hen is missing. To-morrow before daybreak we will be off. "

At the door of the hut Pentaur was greeted by the princess's companions. 

The chamberlain looked at him not without anxious misgiving. 

The king, when he departed, had, it is true, given him orders to obeyBent-Anat in every particular, as if she were the queen herself; but herchoice of such a husband was a thing unheard of, and how would the kingtake it?

Nefert rejoiced in the splendid person of the poet, and frequentlyrepeated that he was as like her dead uncle--the father of Paaker, thechief-pioneer--as if he were his younger brother. 

Uarda never wearied of contemplating him and her beloved princess. Sheno longer looked upon him as a being of a higher order; but the happinessof the noble pair seemed to her an embodied omen of happiness forNefert's love--perhaps too for her own. 

Nebsecht kept modestly in the background. The headache, from which hehad long been suffering, had disappeared 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 fateof men. Henceforth I shall always have the worst of it in any disputewith you, for all the discords of your life have been very prettilyresolved by the great master of harmony, to whom you pray. "

"You speak almost as if you were sorry; but every thing will turn outhappily for you too. "

"Hardly!" replied the surgeon, "for now I see it clearly. Every man isa separate instrument, formed even before his birth, in an occultworkshop, of good or bad wood, skilfully or unskilfully made, of thisshape or the other; every thing in his life, no matter what we call it, plays upon him, and the instrument sounds for good or evil, as it is wellor ill made. You are an AEolian harp--the sound is delightful, whateverbreath of fate may touch it; I am a weather-cock--I turn whichever waythe wind blows, and try to point right, but at the same time I creak, sothat it hurts my own ears and those of other people. I am content if nowand then a steersman may set his sails rightly by my indication; thoughafter 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 Pentaur and 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, accompanied the caravan, to which Uarda's fatheralso attached himself; he had been taken prisoner in the struggle withthe natives, but at Bent-Anat's request was set at liberty. 

At their first halting place he was commanded to explain how he hadsucceeded in having Pentaur taken to the mines, instead of to thequarries 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 tomyself--I must save him. But thinking is not my trade, and I never canlay a plot. It would very likely have come to some violent act, thatwould have ended badly, if I had not had a hint from another person, evenbefore 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 Mafkatmines, across the river to the place they start from. In the harbor ofThebes, on the other side, the poor wretches were to take leave of theirfriends; 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 wildhowls are not the worst--those that scream the most I have always foundare the first to get used to their fate; but the pale ones, whose lipsturn white, and whose teeth chatter as if they were freezing, and whoseeyes 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 wasmost 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 ofoverseer of the attendants on the sacred goat. I had often met him whenI was on duty to watch the laborers who were completing the greatpillared hall, and he was respected by every one, and never failed in hisduty. Once, however, he had neglected it; it was that very night whichyou all will remember when the wolves broke into the temple, and tore therams, 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 forhis carelessness was condemned to forced labor in the mines of Mafkat. His successor will keep a sharp look out! No one came to see him off, though I know he had a wife and several children. He was as pale as thiscloth, and was one of the sort whose grief eats into their heart. I wentup to him, and asked him why no one came with him. He had taken leave ofthem at home, he answered, that his children might not see him mixed upwith forgers and murderers. Eight poor little brats were left unprovidedfor with their mother, and a little while before a fire had destroyedeverything they possessed. There was not a crumb to stop their littlesqualling mouths. He did not tell me all this straight out; a word fellfrom him now and then, like dates from a torn sack. I picked it up bitby bit, and when he saw I felt for him he grew fierce and said: 'They maysend 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 hisforehead. Then I left him to say good bye to Uarda, and on the way Ikept repeating to myself 'that-that, ' and saw before me the man and hiseight 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 leechNebsecht had given her, and offered to give it me to save Pentaur; thenit passed through my mind--that may go to Hum's children, and in returnhe 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 hiswife, and at night when the prisoners were shipped I contrived theexchange Pentaur came with me on my boat under the name of the other, and Huni went to the south, and was called Pentaur. I had not deceivedthe man into thinking he would stop at Chennu. I told him he would betaken on to Ethiopia, for it is always impossible to play a man falsewhen you know it is quite easy to do it. It is very strange! It is areal pleasure to cheat a cunning fellow or a sturdy man, but who wouldtake in a child or a sick person? Huni certainly would have gone intothe fire-pots of hell without complaining, and he left me quitecheerfully. The rest, and how we got here, you yourselves know. InSyria at this time of year you will suffer a good deal from rain. I knowthe country, for I have escorted many prisoners of war into Egypt, and Iwas there five years with the troops of the great Mohar, father of thechief pioneer Paaker. "

Bent-Anat thanked the brave fellow, and Pentaur and Nebsecht continuedthe narrative. 

"During the voyage, " said Nebsecht, "I was uneasy about Pentaur, for Isaw how he was pining, but in the desert he seemed to rouse himself, andoften whispered sweet little songs that he had composed while wemarched. "

"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 andleaves. My little verse is simple enough; it occurred to me like manyother 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 lowvoice:

 "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?" said Nefert. 

"I owe it to both; but I must acknowledge that the desert is a wonderfulphysician for a sick soul. We take refuge from the monotony thatsurrounds us in our own reflections; the senses are at rest; and here, undisturbed and uninfluenced from without, it is given to the mind tothink out every train of thought to the end, to examine and exhaust everyfeeling to its finest shades. In the city, one is always a mere particlein a great whole, on which one is dependent, to which one mustcontribute, and from which one must accept something. The solitarywanderer in the desert stands quite alone; he is in a manner freed fromthe ties which bind him to any great human community; he must fill up thevoid by his own identity, and seek in it that which may give hisexistence significance and consistency. Here, where the present retiresinto the background, the thoughtful spirit finds no limits howeverremote. "

"Yes; one can think well in the desert, " said Nebsecht. "Much has becomeclear 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 knowanything rightly; secondly that the ass may love the rose, but the rosewill not love the ass; and the third thing I will keep to myself, becauseit is my secret, and though it concerns all the world no one wouldtrouble himself about it. My lord chamberlain, how is this? You knowexactly how low people must bow before the princess in proportion totheir rank, and have no idea how a back-bone is made. "

"Why should I?" asked the chamberlain. "I have to attend to outwardthings, while you are contemplating inward things; else your hair mightbe smoother, and your dress less stained. "

The travellers reached the old Cheta city of Hebron without accident;there they took leave of Abocharabos, and under the safe escort ofEgyptian troops started again for the north. At Hebron Pentaur partedfrom the princess, and Bent-Anat bid him farewell without complaining. 

Uarda's father, who had learned every path and bridge in Syria, accompanied the poet, while the physician Nebsecht remained with theladies, whose good star seemed to have deserted them with Pentaur'sdeparture, for the violent winter rains which fell in the mountains ofSamaria destroyed the roads, soaked through the tents, and condemned themfrequently to undesirable delays. At Megiddo they were received withhigh honors by the commandant of the Egyptian garrison, and they werecompelled to linger here some days, for Nefert, who had been particularlyeager to hurry forward, was taken ill, and Nebsecht was obliged to forbidher proceeding at this season. 

Uarda grew pale and thoughtful, and Bent-Anat saw with anxiety that thetender roses were fading from the cheeks of her pretty favorite; but whenshe questioned her as to what ailed her she gave an evasive answer. Shehad never either mentioned Rameri's name before the princess, nor shownher her mother's jewel, for she felt as if all that had passed betweenher and the prince was a secret which did not belong to her alone. Yetanother reason sealed her lips. She was passionately devoted to Bent-Anat, and she told herself that if the princess heard it all, she wouldeither 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 anymore. 

A messenger had been sent on from the first frontier station to theking's camp to enquire by which road the princess, and her party shouldleave Megiddo. But the emissary returned with a short and decided thoughaffectionate letter written by the king's own hand, to his daughter, desiring her not to quit Megiddo, which was a safe magazine and arsenalfor the army, strongly fortified and garrisoned, as it commanded theroads from the sea into North and Central Palestine. Decisiveencounters, he said, were impending, and she knew that the Egyptiansalways excluded their wives and daughters from their war train, andregarded them as the best reward of victory when peace was obtained. 

While the ladies were waiting in Megiddo, Pentaur and his red-beardedguide proceeded northwards with a small mounted escort, with which theywere supplied by the commandant of Hebron. 

He himself rode with dignity, though this journey was the first occasionon which he had sat on horseback. He seemed to have come into the worldwith the art of riding born with him. As soon as he had learned from hiscompanions how to grasp the bridle, and had made himself familiar withthe nature of the horse, it gave him the greatest delight to tame andsubdue a fiery steed. 

He had left his priest's robes in Egypt. Here he wore a coat of mail, asword, and battle-axe like a warrior, and his long beard, which had grownduring his captivity, now flowed down over his breast. Uarda's fatheroften looked at him with admiration, and said:

"One might think the Mohar, with whom I often travelled these roads, hadrisen from the dead. He looked like you, he spoke like you, he calledthe men as you do, nay he sat as you do when the road was too bad for hischariot, [The Mohars used chariots in their journeys. This is positively known from the papyrus Anastasi I. Which vividly describes the hardships experienced by a Mohar while travelling through Syria. ]

and he got on horseback, and held the reins. "

None of Pentaur's men, except his red-bearded friend, was more to himthan a mere hired servant, and he usually preferred to ride alone, apartfrom the little troop, musing on the past--seldom on the future--andgenerally observing all that lay on his way with a keen eye. They soonreached Lebanon; between it and and Lebanon a road led through the greatSyrian valley. It rejoiced him to see with his own eyes the distantshimmer of the white snow-capped peaks, of which he had often heardwarriors talk. 

The country between the two mountain ranges was rich and fruitful, andfrom the heights waterfalls and torrents rushed into the valley. Manyvillages and towns lay on his road, but most of them had been damaged inthe war. The peasants had been robbed of their teams of cattle, theflocks had been driven off from the shepherds, and when a vine-dresser, who was training his vine saw the little troop approaching, he fled tothe ravines and forests. 

The traces of the plough and the spade were everywhere visible, but thefields were for the most part not sown; the young peasants were underarms, the gardens and meadows were trodden down by soldiers, the housesand cottages plundered and destroyed, or burnt. Everything bore thetrace of the devastation of the war, only the oak and cedar forestslorded it proudly over the mountain-slopes, planes and locust-trees grewin groves, and the gorges and rifts of the thinly-wooded limestone hills, which bordered the fertile low-land, were filled with evergreenbrushwood. 

At this time of year everything was moist and well-watered, and Pentaurcompared the country with Egypt, and observed how the same results wereattained here as there, but by different agencies. He remembered thatmorning on Sinai, and said to himself again: "Another God than ours ruleshere, and the old masters were not wrong who reviled godless strangers, and warned the uninitiated, to whom the secret of the One must remainunrevealed, to quit their home. "

The nearer he approached the king's camp, the more vividly he thought ofBent-Anat, and the faster his heart beat from time to time when hethought of his meeting with the king. On the whole he was full ofcheerful confidence, which he felt to be folly, and which nevertheless hecould not repress. 

Ameni had often blamed him for his too great diffidence and his want ofambition, when he had willingly let others pass him by. He rememberedthis now, and smiled and understood himself less than ever, for though heresolutely repeated to himself a hundred times that he was a low-born, poor, and excommunicated priest, the feeling would not be smothered thathe had a right to claim Bent-Anat for his own. 

And if the king refused him his daughter--if he made him pay for hisaudacity with his life?

Not an eyelash, he well knew, would tremble under the blow of the axe, and he would die content; for that which she had granted him was his, andno God could take it from him!

ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

An admirer of the lovely color of his blue bruisesCalled his daughter to wash his feetDesert is a wonderful physician for a sick soulHe is clever and knows everything, but how silly he looks nowIf it were right we should not want to hide ourselvesNone of us really know anything rightlyOne falsehood usually entails anotherRefreshed by the whip of one of the horsemen