at it was Merapi who, keeping herself safe, had brought these woes
upon them because she was a worshipper of an alien god.

"If she who is the love of Egypt's heir would but sacrifice to Egypt's
gods, these horrors would pass from us," said they, having, as I think,
learned their lesson from the lips of Ki. Or perhaps the emissaries of
Userti had taught them.

Once more we stood by the gate watching the people flitting to and
fro in the gloom without, for this sight fascinated Merapi, as a snake
fascinates a bird. Then it was that Laban appeared. I knew his hooked
nose and hawk-like eyes at once, and she knew him also.

"Come away with me, Moon of Israel," he cried, "and all shall yet
be forgiven you. But if you will not come, then fearful things shall
overtake you."

She stood staring at him, answering never a word, and just then the
Prince Seti reached us and saw him.

"Take that man," he commanded, flushing with anger, and guards sprang
into the darkness to do his bidding. But Laban was gone.

On the second day of the darkness the tumult was great, on the third it
was terrible. A crowd thrust the guard aside, broke down the gates and
burst into the palace, humbly demanding that the lady Merapi would come
to pray for them, yet showing by their mien that if she would not come
they meant to take her.

"What is to be done?" asked Seti of Ki and Bakenkhonsu.

"That is for the Prince to judge," said Ki, "though I do not see how it
can harm the lady Merapi to pray for us in the open square of Memphis."

"Let her go," said Bakenkhonsu, "lest presently we should all go further
than we would."

"I do not wish to go," cried Merapi, "not knowing for whom I am to pray
or how."

"Be it as you will, Lady," said Seti in his grave and gentle voice.
"Only, hearken to the roar of the mob. If you refuse, I think that very
soon every one of us will have reached a land where perhaps it is not
needful to pray at all," and he looked at the infant in her arms.

"I will go," she said.

She went forth carrying the child and I walked behind her. So did the
Prince, but in that darkness he was cut off by a rush of thousands of
folk and I saw him no more till all was over. Bakenkhonsu was with me
leaning on my arm, but Ki had gone on before us, for his own ends as I
think. A huge mob moved through the dense darkness, in which here and
there lights floated like lamps upon a quiet sea. I did not know where
we were going until the lig