great head till the long white beard waved
across his breast like a temple banner in the faint evening breeze, and
answered:

"You are no scribe, you are a magician who can win the love and favour
of his Highness in an hour which others cannot do between two risings
of the Nile. Had you said so at once, you would have been differently
treated yonder in the hall of waiting. Forgive me therefore what I did
in ignorance, and, my lord, I pray it may please you not to melt away in
the night, lest my feet should answer for it beneath the sticks."

It was the fourth hour from sunrise of the following day that, for the
first time in my life I found myself in the Court of Pharaoh standing
with other members of his household in the train of his Highness, the
Prince Seti. It was a very great place, for Pharaoh sat in the judgment
hall, whereof the roof is upheld by round and sculptured columns,
between which were set statues of Pharaohs who had been. Save at
the throne end of the hall, where the light flowed down through
clerestories, the vast chamber was dim almost to darkness; at least so
it seemed to me entering there out of the brilliant sunshine. Through
this gloom many folk moved like shadows; captains, nobles, and state
officers who had been summoned to the Court, and among them white-robed
and shaven priests. Also there were others of whom I took no count, such
as Arab headmen from the desert, traders with jewels and other wares to
sell, farmers and even peasants with petitions to present, lawyers and
their clients, and I know not who besides, through which of all these
none were suffered to advance beyond a certain mark where the light
began to fall. Speaking in whispers all of these folk flitted to and fro
like bats in a tomb.

We waited between two Hathor-headed pillars in one of the vestibules of
the hall, the Prince Seti, who was clad in purple-broidered garments and
wore upon his brow a fillet of gold from which rose the uraeus or hooded
snake, also of gold, that royal ones alone might wear, leaning against
the base of a statue, while the rest of us stood silent behind him.
For a time he was silent also, as a man might be whose thoughts were
otherwhere. At length he turned and said to me:

"This is weary work. Would I had asked you to bring that new tale of
yours, Scribe Ana, that we might have read it together."

"Shall I tell you the plot of it, Prince?"

"Yes. I mean, not now, lest I should forget my manners