"Art thou at an end of thy communications?" he asked the high-priest.

"It remains for me to inform you all," replied Ameni with a louder voice,
to be heard by all the assembled dignitaries, "that the princess
Bent-Anat yesterday morning committed a heavy sin, and that in all the
temples in the land the Gods shall be entreated with offerings to take
her uncleanness from her."

Again a shadow passed over the smile on the Regent's countenance. He
looked meditatively on the ground, and then said:

"To-morrow I will visit the House of Seti; till then I beg that this
affair may be left to rest."

Ameni bowed, and the Regent left the hall to withdraw to a wing of the
king's palace, in which he dwelt.

On his writing-table lay sealed papers. He knew that they contained
important news for him; but he loved to do violence to his curiosity, to
test his resolution, and like an epicure to reserve the best dish till
the last.

He now glanced first at some unimportant letters. A dumb negro, who
squatted at his feet, burned the papyrus rolls which his master gave him
in a brazier. A secretary made notes of the short facts which Ani called
out to him, and the ground work was laid of the answers to the different
letters.

At a sign from his master this functionary quitted the room, and Ani then
slowly opened a letter from the king, whose address: "To my brother Ani,"
showed that it contained, not public, but private information.

On these lines, as he well knew, hung his future life, and the road it
should follow.

With a smile, that was meant to conceal even from himself his deep inward
agitation, he broke the wax which sealed the short manuscript in the
royal hand.

"What relates to Egypt, and my concern for my country, and the happy
issue of the war," wrote the Pharaoh, "I have written to you by the hand
of my secretary; but these words are for the brother, who desires to be
my son, and I write to him myself. The lordly essence of the Divinity
which dwells in me, readily brings a quick 'Yes' or 'No' to my lips, and
it decides for the best. Now you demand my daughter Bent-Anat to wife,
and I should not be Rameses if I did not freely confess that before I had
read the last words of your letter, a vehement 'No' rushed to my lips. I
caused the stars to be consulted, and the entrails of the victims to be
examined, and they were adverse to your request; and yet I could not
refuse you, for you are dear to me, and your blood is r