[Cherheb was the title of the speaker or reciter at a festival.  We
cannot agree with those who confuse this personage with the chief of
the Kolchytes.]

for to-morrow only; the day after he must be brought to judgment.  Among
the rebellious boys are our best singers, and particularly young Anana,
who leads the voices of the choir-boys.

"I will examine the silly fellows at once.  Rameri--Rameses' son--was
among the young miscreants?"

"He seems to have been the ring-leader," answered Septah.

Ameni looked at the old man with a significant smile, and said:

"The royal family are covering themselves with honor!  His eldest
daughter must be kept far from the temple and the gathering of the pious,
as being unclean and refractory, and we shall be obliged to expel his son
too from our college.  You look horrified, but I say to you that the time
for action is come.  More of this, this evening.  Now, one question: Has
the news of the death of the ram of Anion reached you?  Yes?  Rameses
himself presented him to the God, and they gave it his name.  A bad
omen."

"And Apis too is dead!"  The haruspex threw up his arms in lamentation.

"His Divine spirit has returned to God," replied Ameni.  "Now we have
much to do.  Before all things we must prove ourselves equal to those in
Thebes over there, and win the people over to our side.  The panegyric
prepared by us for to-morrow must offer some great novelty.  The Regent
Ani grants us a rich contribution, and--"

"And," interrupted Septah, "our thaumaturgists understand things very
differently from those of the house of Anion, who feast while we
practise."

Ameni nodded assent, and said with a smile: "Also we are more
indispensable than they to the people.  They show them the path of life,
but we smooth the way of death.  It is easier to find the way without a
guide in the day-light than in the dark.  We are more than a match for
the priests of Anion."

"So long as you are our leader, certainly," cried the haruspex.

"And so long as the temple has no lack of men of your temper!" added
Ameni, half to Septah, and half to the second prophet of the temple,
sturdy old Gagabu, who had come into the room.

Both accompanied him into the garden, where the two priests were awaiting
him with the miraculous heart.

Ameni greeted the priest from the temple of Anion with dignified
friendliness, the head kolchytes with distant reserve, listened to their
story, looked at the heart which lay in the box, with Septah and Gagabu,
touched it delicately with the tips of his fingers, carefully examining
the object, which diffused a strong perfume of spices; then he said
earnestly:

"If this, in your opinion, kolchytes, is not a human heart, and if in
yours, my brother of the temple of Anion, it is a ram's heart, and if it
was found in the body of Rui, who is gone to Osiris, we here have a
mystery which only the Gods can solve.  Follow me into the great court.
Let the gong be sounded, Gagabu, four times, for I wish to call all the
brethren together."

The gong rang in loud waves of sound to the farthest limits of the group
of buildings.  The initiated, the fathers, the temple-servants, and the
scholars streamed in, and in a few minutes were all collected.  Not a man
was wanting, for at the four strokes of the rarely-sounded alarum every
dweller in the House of Seti was expected to appear in the court of the
temple.  Even the leech Nebsecht came; for he feared that the unusual
summons announced the outbreak of a fire.

Ameni ordered the assembly to arrange itself in a procession, informed
his astonished hearers that in the breast of the deceased prophet Rui, a
ram's heart, instead of a man's, had been found, and desired them all to
follow his instructions.  Each one, he said, was to fall on his knees and
pray, while he would carry the heart into the holiest of holies, and
enquire of the Gods what this wonder might portend to the faithful.

Ameni, with the heart in his hand, placed himself at the head of the
procession, and disappeared behind the veil of the sanctuary, the
initiated prayed in the vestibule, in front of it; the priests and
scholars in the vast court, which was closed on the west by the stately
colonnade and the main gateway to the temple.

For fully an hour Ameni remained in the silent holy of holies, from which
thick clouds of incense rolled out, and then he reappeared with a golden
vase set with precious stones.  His tall figure was now resplendent with
rich ornaments, and a priest, who walked before him, held the vessel high
above his head.

Ameni's eyes seemed spell-bound to the vase, and he followed it,
supporting himself by his crozier, with humble inflections.

The initiated bowed their heads till they touched the pavement, and the
priests and scholars bent their faces down to the earth, when they beheld
their haughty master so filled with humility and devotion.  The
worshippers did not raise themselves till Ameni had reached the middle of
the court and ascended the steps of the altar, on which the vase with the
heart was now placed, and they listened to the slow and solemn accents of
the high-priest which sounded clearly through the whole court.

"Fall down again and worship! wonder, pray, and adore!  The noble
inspector of sacrifices of the temple of Anion has not been deceived in
his judgment; a ram's heart was in fact found in the pious breast of Rui.
I heard distinctly the voice of the Divinity in the sanctuary, and
strange indeed was the speech that met my ear.  Wolves tore the sacred
ram of Anion in his sanctuary on the other bank of the river, but the
heart of the divine beast found its way into the bosom of the saintly
Rui.  A great miracle has been worked, and the Gods have shown a
wonderful sign.  The spirit of the Highest liked not to dwell in the body
of this not perfectly holy ram, and seeking a purer abiding-place found
it in the breast of our Rui; and now in this consecrated vase.  In this
the heart shall be preserved till a new ram offered by a worthy hand
enters the herd of Anion.  This heart shall be preserved with the most
sacred relics, it has the property of healing many diseases, and the
significant words seem favorable which stood written in the midst of the
vapor of incense, and which I will repeat to you word for word, 'That
which is high shall rise higher, and that which exalts itself, shall soon
fall down.'  Rise, pastophori! hasten to fetch the holy images, bring
them out, place the sacred heart at the head of the procession, and let
us march round the walls of the temple with hymns of praise.  Ye temple-
servants, seize your staves, and spread in every part of the city the
news of the miracle which the Divinity has vouchsafed to us."

After the procession had marched round the temple and dispersed, the
priest of Anion took leave of Ameni; he bowed deeply and formally before
him, and with a coolness that was almost malicious said:

"We, in the temple of Anion, shall know how to appreciate what you heard
in the holy of holies.  The miracle has occurred, and the king shall
learn how it came to pass, and in what words it was announced."

"In the words of the Most High," said the high priest with dignity; he
bowed to the other, and turned to a group of priests, who were discussing
the great event of the day.

Ameni enquired of them as to the preparations for the festival of the
morrow, and then desired the chief haruspex to call the refractory pupils
together in the school-court.  The old man informed him that Pentaur had
returned, and he followed his superior to the released prisoners, who,
prepared for the worst, and expecting severe punishment, nevertheless
shook with laughter when Rameri suggested that, if by chance they were
condemned to kneel upon peas, they should get them cooked first.

"It will be long asparagus

[Asparagus was known to the Egyptians.  Pliny says they held in
their mouths, as a remedy for toothache, wine in which asparagus had
been cooked.]

--not peas," said another looking over his shoulder, and pretending to be
flogging.  They all shouted again with laughter, but it was hushed as
soon as they heard Ameni's well-known footstep.

Each feared the worst, and when the high-priest stood before them even
Rameri's mirth was quite quelled, for though Ameni looked neither angry
nor threatening, his appearance commanded respect, and each one
recognized in him a judge against whose verdict no remonstrance was
to be thought of.

To their infinite astonishment Ameni spoke kindly to the thoughtless
boys, praised the motive of their action--their attachment to a highly-
endowed teacher--but then clearly and deliberately laid before them the
folly of the means they had employed to attain their end, and at what a
cost.  "Only think," he continued, turning to the prince, "if your father
sent a general, who he thought would be better in a different place, from
Syria to Kusch, and his troops therefore all went over to the enemy!  How
would you like that?"

So for some minutes he continued to blame and warn them, and he ended his
speech by promising, in consideration of the great miracle that gave that
day a special sanctity, to exercise unwonted clemency.  For the sake of
example, he said, he could not let them pass altogether unpunished, and
he now asked them which of them had been the instigator of the deed; he
and he only should suffer punishment.

He had hardly clone speaking, when prince Rameri stepped forward, and
said modestly:

"We acknowledge, holy father, that we have played a foolish trick; and
I lament it doubly because I devised it, and made the others follow me.
I love Pentaur, and next to thee there is no one like him in the
sanctuary."

Ameni's countenance grew dark, and he answered with displeasure:

"No judgment is allowed to pupils as to their teachers--nor to you. If
you were not the son of the king, who rules Egypt as Ra, I would punish
your temerity with stripes.  My hands are tied with regard to you, and
yet they must be everywhere and always at work if the hundreds committed
to my care are to be kept from harm."

"Nay, punish me!"  cried Rameri.  "If I commit a folly I am ready to bear
the consequences."

Ameni looked pleased at the vehement boy, and would willingly have shaken
him by the hand and stroked his curly head, but the penance he proposed
for Rameri was to serve a great end, and Ameni would not allow any
overflow of emotion to hinder him in the execution of a well considered
design.  So he answered the prince with grave determination:

"I must and will punish you--and I do so by requesting you to leave the
House of Seti this very day."

The prince turned pale.  But Ameni went on more kindly:

"I do not expel you with ignominy from among us--I only bid you a
friendly farewell.  In a few weeks you would in any case have left the
college, and by the king's command have transferred your blooming life,
health, and strength to the exercising ground of the chariot-brigade.
No punishment for you but this lies in my power.  Now give me your hand;
you will make a fine man, and perhaps a great warrior."

The prince stood in astonishment before Ameni, and did not take his
offered hand.  Then the priest went up to him, and said:

"You said you were ready to take the consequences of your folly, and a
prince's word must be kept.  Before sunset we will conduct you to the
gate of the temple."

Ameni turned his back on the boys, and left the school-court.

Rameri looked after him.  Utter whiteness had overspread his blooming
face, and the blood had left even his lips.  None of his companions
approached him, for each felt that what was passing in his soul at this
moment would brook no careless intrusion.  No one spoke a word; they all
looked at him.

He soon observed this, and tried to collect himself, and then he said in
a low tone while he held out his hands to Anana and another friend:

"Am I then so bad that I must be driven out from among you all like this
--that such a blow must be inflicted on my father?"

"You refused Ameni your hand!" answered Anana.  "Go to him, offer him
your hand, beg him to be less severe, and perhaps he will let you
remain."

Rameri answered only "No."  But that "No" was so decided that all who
knew him understood that it was final.

Before the sun set he had left the school.  Ameni gave him his blessing;
he told him that if he himself ever had to command he would understand
his severity, and allowed the other scholars to accompany him as far as
the Nile.  Pentaur parted from him tenderly at the gate.

When Rameri was alone in the cabin of his gilt bark with his tutor, he
felt his eyes swimming in tears.

"Your highness is surely not weeping?"  asked the official.

"Why?" asked the prince sharply.

"I thought I saw tears on your highness' cheeks."

"Tears of joy that I am out of the trap," cried Rameri; he sprang on
shore, and in a few minutes he was with his sister in the palace.




ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

Ask for what is feasible
I know that I am of use
Like the cackle of hens, which is peculiar to Eastern women
Think of his wife, not with affection only, but with pride
Those whom we fear, says my uncle, we cannot love






UARDA

By Georg Ebers

Volume 6.



CHAPTER XXIV.

This eventful day had brought much that was unexpected to our friends in
Thebes, as well as to those who lived in the Necropolis.

The Lady Katuti had risen early after a sleepless night.  Nefert had come
in late, had excused her delay by shortly explaining to her mother that
she had been detained by Bent-Anat, and had then affectionately offered
her brow for a kiss of "good-night."

When the widow was about to withdraw to her sleeping-room, and Nemu had
lighted her lamp, she remembered the secret which was to deliver Paaker
into Ani's hands.  She ordered the dwarf to impart to her what he knew,
and the little man told her at last, after sincere efforts at resistance
--for he feared for his mother's safety--that Paaker had administered
half of a love-philter to Nefert, and that the remainder was still in his
hands.

A few hours since this information would have filled Katuti with
indignation and disgust; now, though she blamed the Mohar, she asked
eagerly whether such a drink could be proved to have any actual effect.

"Not a doubt of it," said the dwarf, "if the whole were taken, but Nefert
only had half of it."

At a late hour Katuti was still pacing her bedroom, thinking of Paaker's
insane devotion, of Mena's faithlessness, and of Nefert's altered
demeanor; and when she went to bed, a thousand conjectures, fears, and
anxieties tormented her, while she was distressed at the change which had
come over Nefert's love to her mother, a sentiment which of all others
should be the most sacred, and the most secure against all shock.

Soon after sunrise she went into the little temple attached to the house,
and made an offering to the statue, which, under the form of Osiris,
represented her lost husband; then she went to the temple of Anion, where
she also prayed a while, and nevertheless, on her return home, found that
her daughter had not yet made her appearance in the hall where they
usually breakfasted together.

Katuti preferred to be undisturbed during the early morning hours, and
therefore did not interfere with her daughter's disposition to sleep far
into the day in her carefully-darkened room.

When the widow went to the temple Nefert was accustomed to take a cup of
milk in bed, then she would let herself be dressed, and when her mother
returned, she would find her in the veranda or hall, which is so well
known to the reader.

To-day however Katuti had to breakfast alone; but when she had eaten a
few mouthfuls she prepared Nefert's breakfast--a white cake and a little
wine in a small silver beaker, carefully guarded from dust and insects by
a napkin thrown over it--and went into her daughter's room.

She was startled at finding it empty, but she was informed that Nefert
had gone earlier than was her wont to the temple, in her litter.

With a heavy sigh she returned to the veranda, and there received her
nephew Paaker, who had come to enquire after the health of his relatives,
followed by a slave, who carried two magnificent bunches of flowers, and
by the great dog which had formerly belonged to his father.  One bouquet
he said had been cut for Nefert, and the other for her mother.

[Pictures on the monuments show that in ancient Egypt, as at the
present time, bouquets of flowers were bestowed as tokens of
friendly feeling.]

Katuti had taken quite a new interest in Paaker since she had heard of
his procuring the philter.

No other young man of the rank to which they belonged, would have allowed
himself to be so mastered by his passion for a woman as this Paaker was,
who went straight to his aim with stubborn determination, and shunned no
means that might lead to it.  The pioneer, who had grown up under her
eyes, whose weaknesses she knew, and whom she was accustomed to look down
upon, suddenly appeared to her as a different man--almost a stranger--as
the deliverer of his friends, and the merciless antagonist of his
enemies.

These reflections had passed rapidly through her mind.  Now her eyes
rested on the sturdy, strongly-knit figure of her nephew, and it struck
her that he bore no resemblance to his tall, handsome father.  Often had
she admired her brother-in-law's slender hand, that nevertheless could so
effectually wield a sword, but that of his son was broad and ignoble in
form.

While Paaker was telling her that he must shortly leave for Syria, she
involuntarily observed the action of this hand, which often went
cautiously to his girdle as if he had something concealed there; this was
the oval phial with the rest of the philter.  Katuti observed it, and her
cheeks flushed when it occurred to her to guess what he had there.

The pioneer could not but observe Katuti's agitation, and he said in a
tone of sympathy:

"I perceive that you are in pain, or in trouble.  The master of Mena's
stud at Hermonthis has no doubt been with you--No?  He came to me
yesterday, and asked me to allow him to join my troops.  He is very angry
with you, because he has been obliged to sell some of Mena's gold-bays.
I have bought the finest of them.  They are splendid creatures!  Now he
wants to go to his master 'to open his eyes,' as he says.  Lie down a
little while, aunt, you are very pale."

Katuti did not follow this prescription; on the contrary she smiled, and
said in a voice half of anger and half of pity:

"The old fool firmly believes that the weal or woe of the family depends
on the gold-bays.  He would like to go with you?  To open Mena's eyes?
No one has yet tried to bind them!"

Katuti spoke the last words in a low tone, and her glance fell.  Paaker
also looked down, and was silent; but he soon recovered his presence of
mind, and said:

"If Nefert is to be long absent, I will go."

"No--no, stay," cried the widow.  "She wished to see you, and must soon
come in.  There are her cake and her wine waiting for her."

With these words she took the napkin off the breakfast-table, held up the
beaker in her hand, and then said, with the cloth still in her hand:

"I will leave you a moment, and see if Nefert is not yet come home."

Hardly had she left the veranda when Paaker, having convinced himself
that no one could see him, snatched the flask from his girdle, and, with
a short invocation to his father in Osiris, poured its whole contents
into the beaker, which thus was filled to the very brim.  A few minutes
later Nefert and her mother entered the hall.

Paaker took up the nosegay, which his slave had laid down on a seat, and
timidly approached the young woman, who walked in with such an aspect of
decision and self-confidence, that her mother looked at her in
astonishment, while Paaker felt as if she had never before appeared so
beautiful and brilliant.  Was it possible that she should love her
husband, when his breach of faith troubled her so little?  Did her heart
still belong to another?  Or had the love-philter set him in the place of
Mena?  Yes! yes! for how warmly she greeted him.  She put out her hand to
him while he was still quite far off, let it rest in his, thanked him
with feeling, and praised his fidelity and generosity.

Then she went up to the table, begged Paaker to sit down with her, broke
her cake, and enquired for her aunt Setchern, Paaker's mother.

Katuti and Paaker watched all her movements with beating hearts.

Now she took up the beaker, and lifted it to her lips, but set it down
again to answer Paaker's remark that she was breakfasting late.

"I have hitherto been a real lazy-bones," she said with a blush.  But
this morning I got up early, to go and pray in the temple in the fresh
dawn.  You know what has happened to the sacred ram of Amion.  It is a
frightful occurrence.  The priests were all in the greatest agitation,
but the venerable Bek el Chunsu received me himself, and interpreted my
dream, and now my spirit is light and contented."

"And you did all this without me?"  said Katuti in gentle reproof.

"I would not disturb you," replied Nefert.  "Besides," she added
coloring, "you never take me to the city and the temple in the morning."

Again she took up the wine-cup and looked into it, but without drinking
any, went on:

"Would you like to hear what I dreamed, Paaker?  It was a strange
vision."

The pioneer could hardly breathe for expectation, still he begged her to
tell her dream.

"Only think," said Nefert, pushing the beaker on the smooth table, which
was wet with a few drops which she had spilt, "I dreamed of the Neha-
tree, down there in the great tub, which your father brought me from
Punt, when I was a little child, and which since then has grown quite a
tall tree.  There is no tree in the garden I love so much, for it always
reminds me of your father, who was so kind to me, and whom I can never
forget!"

Paaker bowed assent.

Nefert looked at him, and interrupted her story when she observed his
crimson cheeks.

"It is very hot!  Would you like some wine to drink---or some water?"

With these words she raised the wine-cup, and drank about half of the
contents; then she shuddered, and while her pretty face took a comical
expression, she turned to her mother, who was seated behind her and held
the beaker towards her.

"The wine is quite sour to-day!"  she said.  "Taste it, mother."

Katuti took the little silver-cup in her hand, and gravely put it to her
lips, but without wetting them.  A smile passed over her face, and her
eyes met those of the pioneer, who stared at her in horror.  The picture
flashed before her mind of herself languishing for the pioneer, and of
his terror at her affection for him!  Her selfish and intriguing spirit
was free from coarseness, and yet she could have laughed with all her
heart even while engaged in the most shameful deed of her whole life.
She gave the wine back to her daughter, saying good-humoredly:

"I have tasted sweeter, but acid is refreshing in this heat."

"That is true," said the wife of Mena; she emptied the cup to the bottom,
and then went on, as if refreshed, "But I will tell you the rest of my
dream.  I saw the Neha-tree, which your father gave me, quite plainly;
nay I could have declared that I smelt its perfume, but the interpreter
assured me that we never smell in our dreams.  I went up to the beautiful
tree in admiration.  Then suddenly a hundred axes appeared in the air,
wielded by unseen hands, and struck the poor tree with such violence that
the branches one by one fell to the ground, and at last the trunk itself
was felled.  If you think it grieved me you are mistaken.  On the
contrary, I was delighted with the flashing hatchets and the flying
splinters.  When at last nothing was left but the roots in the tub of
earth, I perceived that the tree was rising to new life.  Suddenly my
arms became strong, my feet active, and I fetched quantities of water
from the tank, poured it over the roots, and when, at last, I could exert
myself no longer, a tender green shoot showed itself on the wounded root,
a bud appeared, a green leaf unfolded itself, a juicy stem sprouted
quickly, it became a firm trunk, sent out branches and twigs, and these
became covered with leaves and flowers, white, red and blue; then various
birds came and settled on the top of the tree, and sang.  Ah! my heart
sang louder than the birds at that moment, and I said to myself that
without me the tree would have been dead, and that it owed its life to
me."

"A beautiful dream," said Katuti; "that reminds me of your girlhood, when
you would he awake half the night inventing all sorts of tales.  What
interpretation did the priest give you?"

"He promised me many things," said Nefert, "and he gave me the assurance
that the happiness to which I am predestined shall revive in fresh beauty
after many interruptions."

"And Paaker's father gave you the Neha-tree?"  asked Katuti, leaving the
veranda as she spoke and walking out into the garden.

"My father brought it to Thebes from the far cast," said Paaker, in
confirmation of the widow's parting words.

"And that is exactly what makes me so happy," said Nefert.  "For your
father was as kind, and as dear to me as if he had been my own.  Do you
remember when we were sailing round the pond, and the boat upset, and you
pulled me senseless out of the water?  Never shall I forget the
expression with which the great man looked at me when I woke up in its
arms; such wise true eyes no one ever had but he."

"He was good, and he loved you very much," said Paaker, recalling, for
his part, the moment when he had dared to press a kiss on the lips of the
sweet unconscious child.

"And I am so glad," Nefert went on, "that the day has come at last when
we can talk of him together again, and when the old grudge that lay so
heavy in my heart is all forgotten.  How good you are to us, I have
already learned; my heart overflows with gratitude to you, when I
remember my childhood, and I can never forget that I was indebted to you
for all that was bright and happy in it.  Only look at the big dog--poor
Descher!--how he rubs against me, and shows that he has not forgotten me!
Whatever comes from your house fills my mind with pleasant memories."

"We all love you dearly," said Paaker looking at her tenderly.

"And how sweet it was in your garden!"  cried Nefert.  "The nosegay here
that you have brought me shall be placed in water, and preserved a long
time, as greeting from the place in which once I could play carelessly,
and dream so happily."

With these words she pressed the flowers to her lips; Paaker sprang
forward, seized her hand, and covered it with burning kisses.

Nefert started and drew away her hand, but he put out his arm to clasp
her to him.  He had touched her with his trembling hand, when loud voices
were heard in the garden, and Nemu hurried in to announce he arrival of
the princess Bent-Anat.

At the same moment Katuti appeared, and in a few minutes the princess
herself.

Paaker retreated, and quitted the room before Nefert had time to express
her indignation.  He staggered to his chariot like a drunken man.  He
supposed himself beloved by Mena's wife, his heart was full of triumph,
he proposed rewarding Hekt with gold, and went to the palace without
delay to crave of Ani a mission to Syria.  There it should be brought to
the test--he or Mena.




CHAPTER XXV.

While Nefert, frozen with horror, could not find a word of greeting for
her royal friend, Bent-Anat with native dignity laid before the widow her
choice of Nefert to fill the place of her lost companion, and desired
that Mena's wife should go to the palace that very day.

She had never before spoken thus to Katuti, and Katuti could not overlook
the fact that Bent-Anat had intentionally given up her old confidential
tone.

"Nefert has complained of me to her," thought she to herself, "and she
considers me no longer worthy of her former friendly kindness."

She was vexed and hurt, and though she understood the danger which
threatened her, now her daughter's eyes were opened, still the thought of
losing her child inflicted a painful wound.  It was this which filled her
eyes with tears, and sincere sorrow trembled in her voice as she replied:

"Thou hast required the better half of my life at my hand; but thou hast
but to command, and I to obey."  Bent-Anat waved her hand proudly, as if
to confirm the widow's statement; but Nefert went up to her mother, threw
her arms round her neck, and wept upon her shoulder.

Tears glistened even in the princess's eyes when Katuti at last led her
daughter towards her, and pressed yet one more kiss on her forehead.

Bent-Anat took Nefert's hand, and did not release it, while she requested
the widow to give her daughter's dresses and ornaments into the charge of
the slaves and waiting-women whom she would send for them.

"And do not forget the case with the dried flowers, and my amulets, and
the images of the Gods," said Nefert.  "And I should like to have the
Neha tree which my uncle gave me."

Her white cat was playing at her feet with Paaker's flowers, which she
had dropped on the floor, and when she saw her she took her up and kissed
her.

"Bring the little creature with you," said Bent-Anat.  "It was your
favorite plaything."

"No," replied Nefert coloring.

The princess understood her, pressed her hand, and said while she pointed
to Nemu:

"The dwarf is your own too: shall he come with you?"

"I will give him to my mother," said Nefert.  She let the little man kiss
her robe and her feet, once more embraced Katuti, and quitted the garden
with her royal friend.

As soon as Katuti was alone, she hastened into the little chapel in which
the figures of her ancestors stood, apart from those of Mena.  She threw
herself down before the statue of her husband, half weeping, half
thankful.

This parting had indeed fallen heavily on her soul, but at the same time
it released her from a mountain of anxiety that had oppressed her breast.
Since yesterday she had felt like one who walks along the edge of a
precipice, and whose enemy is close at his heels; and the sense of
freedom from the ever threatening danger, soon got the upperhand of her
maternal grief.  The abyss in front of her had suddenly closed; the road
to the goal of her efforts lay before her smooth and firm beneath her
feet.

The widow, usually so dignified, hastily and eagerly walked down the
garden path, and for the first time since that luckless letter from the
camp had reached her, she could look calmly and clearly at the position
of affairs, and reflect on the measures which Ani must take in the
immediate future.  She told herself that all was well, and that the time
for prompt and rapid action was now come.

When the messengers came from the princess she superintended the packing
of the various objects which Nefert wished to have, with calm
deliberation, and then sent her dwarf to Ani, to beg that he would visit
her.  But before Nemu had left Mena's grounds he saw the out-runners of