e Troy.
And this fate is laid upon thee, that thou shalt do battle against thy
own people, even against the sons of them by whose side thou didst
fight beneath the walls of Ilios, and in that battle thou shalt find thy
death, and in thy death, thou Wanderer, thou shalt find that which all
men seek, the breast of the immortal Helen. For though here on earth
she seems to live eternally, it is but the shadow of her beauty that men
see--each as he desires it. In the halls of Death she dwells, and in
the garden of Queen Persephone, and there she shall be won, for there
no more is beauty guarded of Those that stand between men and joy, and
there no more shall the Snake seem as the Star, and Sin have power to
sever those that are one. Now make thy heart strong, Odysseus, and so do
as thy wisdom tells thee. Farewell!"

Thus the Goddess spoke from the cloud of glory, and lo! she was gone.
But the heart of the Wanderer was filled with joy because he knew that
the Helen was not lost to him for ever, and he no more feared the death
of shame.

*****

Now it was midnight, and Pharaoh slept. But Meriamun the Queen slept
not. She rose from her bed, she wrapped herself in a dark cloak that hid
her face, and taking a lamp in her hand, glided through the empty halls
till she came to a secret stair down which she passed. There was a gate
at the foot of the stair, and a guard slept by it. She pushed him with
her foot.

He awoke and sprang towards her, but she held a signet before his eyes,
an old ring of great Queen Taia, whereon a Hathor worshipped the sun.
Then he bowed and opened the gate. She swept on through many passages,
deep into the bowels of the earth, till she came to the door of a little
chamber where a light shone. Men talked in the chamber, and she listened
to their talk. They spoke much and laughed gleefully. Then she entered
the doorway and looked upon them. They were six in number, evil-eyed men
of Ethiopia, and seated in a circle. In the centre of the circle lay the
waxen image of a man, and they were cutting it with knives and searing
it with needles of iron and pincers made red-hot, and many instruments
strange and dreadful to look upon. For these were the tormentors, and
they spoke of those pains that to-morrow they should wreak upon the
Wanderer, and practised them.

But Meriamun, who loved him, shivered as she looked, and muttered thus
beneath her breath:

"This I promise you, black ministers of death, that in