t you would, Userti, but when you have leisure, ask Ana
here to explain the matter to you. I am sure that _he_ understands."

"Oh! I have borne enough," exclaimed Userti rising. "Hearken to the
command of Pharaoh, Prince Seti. It is that you wait upon him to-morrow
in full council, at an hour before noon, there to talk with him of this
question of the Israelitish slaves and the officer whom it has pleased
you to kill. I came to speak other words to you also, but as they
were for your private ear, these can bide a more fitting opportunity.
Farewell, my Brother."

"What, are you going so soon, Sister? I wished to tell you the story
about those Israelites, and especially of the maid whose name is--what
was her name, Ana?"

"Merapi, Moon of Israel, Prince," I added with a groan.

"About the maid called Merapi, Moon of Israel, I think the sweetest that
ever I have looked upon, whose father the dead captain murdered in my
sight."

"So there is a woman in the business? Well, I guessed it."

"In what business is there not a woman, Userti, even in that of a
message from Pharaoh. Pambasa, Pambasa, escort the Princess and
summon her servants, women everyone of them, unless my senses mock
me. Good-night to you, O Sister and Lady of the Two Lands, and forgive
me--that coronet of yours is somewhat awry."

At last she was gone and I rose, wiping my brow with a corner of my
robe, and looking at the Prince who stood before the fire laughing
softly.

"Make a note of all this talk, Ana," he said; "there is more in it than
meets the ear."

"I need no note, Prince," I answered; "every word is burnt upon my mind
as a hot iron burns a tablet of wood. With reason too, since now her
Highness will hate me for all her life."

"Much better so, Ana, than that she should pretend to love you, which
she never would have done while you are my friend. Women oftimes respect
those whom they hate and even will advance them because of policy, but
let those whom they pretend to love beware. The time may come when you
will yet be Userti's most trusted councillor."

Now here I, Ana the Scribe, will state that in after days, when this
same queen was the wife of Pharaoh Saptah, I did, as it chanced, become
her most trusted councillor. Moreover, in those times, yes, and even in
the hour of her death, she swore from the moment her eyes first fell
on me she had known me to be true-hearted and held me in esteem as no
self-seeker. More, I think she beli