sked, whispering and staring on him
with wide eyes. "Is he not named Eperitus, the Wanderer? And hath he not
come hither, the spear-point in his helm? And is not the hand of Fate
upon me, Meriamun? Hearken, Rei, hearken! I love him as it was fated
I should love. When first I looked on him as he came up the Hall of
Audience in his glory, I knew him. I knew him for that man who shares
the curse laid aforetime on him, and on the woman, and on me, when, in
an unknown place, twain became three and were doomed to strive from
life to life and work each other's woe upon the earth. I knew him, Rei,
though he knew me not, and I say that my soul shook at the echo of his
step, and my heart blossomed as the black earth blossoms when after
flood Sihor seeks his banks again. A glory came upon me, Rei, and I
looked back through all the mists of time and knew him for my love, and
I looked forward into the depths of time to be and knew him for my love.
Then I looked on the present hour, and naught could I see but darkness,
and naught could I hear but the groans of dying men, and a shrill sound
as of a woman singing."

"An ill tale, Queen," said Rei.

"Ay, an ill tale, Rei, but half untold. Hearken again, I will tell thee
all. Madness hath entered into me from the Hathor of Atarhechis, the
Queen of Desire. I am mad with love, even I who never loved. Oh, Rei!
Rei! I would win this man. Nay, look not so sternly on me, it is Fate
that drives me on. Last night I spoke to him and discovered to him the
name he hides from us, his own name, Odysseus, Laertes' son, Odysseus of
Ithaca. Ay, thou startest, but so it is. I learned it by my magic, and
wrung the truth even from the guile of the most crafty of men. But it
seemed to me that he turned from me, though this much I won from him,
that he had journeyed from far to seek me, the Bride that the Gods have
promised him."

The priest leaped up from his seat. "Lady!" he cried, "Lady! whom I
serve and whom I have loved from a child, thy brain is sick, and not
thy heart. Thou canst not love him. Dost thou not remember that thou art
Queen of Khem and Pharaoh's wife? Wilt thou throw thy honour in the mire
to be trampled by a wandering stranger?"

"Ay," she answered, "I am Queen of Khem and Pharaoh's wife, but never
Pharaoh's love. Honour! Why dost thou prate to me of honour? Like Nile
in flood, my love hath burst the bulwark of my honour, and I mark not
where custom set it. For all around the waters s