inuous. Solemn
bodies of priests approached, series after series of the shaven,
white-robed ministers of Amen. The murmur had grown to an uproar. The
wild clamor of trumpet, pipe, cymbal and sistrum, with the long drone
of the arghool as undertone, drifted by. The upper orders of priests
followed in the vibrating wake of the musicians. Then came Loi,
high-priest to the patron god of Thebes, walking alone, his ancient
figure most pitifully mocked by the richness of his priestly robes.

After him the great god, Amen, in his ark.

The air was rent with acclaim. The crowd was too dense for any one to
prostrate himself, but every Egyptian, potentate or slave, assumed as
nearly as possible the posture of humility. Kenkenes bent reverently,
but he lifted his eyes and looked long at the passing ark. Six priests
bore it upon their shoulders. It was a small boat, elaborately carved,
and the cabin in the center--the retreat of the deity--was picketed
with a cordon of sacred images. The entire feretory was overlaid with
gold and crusted with gems.

Mentu, his father, had planned one for Ptah, and a noble work it
was,--quite equal to this, Kenkenes thought.

His artistic deliberations were interrupted by an angry tone in the
clamor about him. The Israelites had called out a demonstration of
contempt before, and he guessed at once that they had further
displeased the rabble. It was even as he had thought. The four
bearers with folded arms contemplated the threatening crowd with a
sidelong gaze of contempt. The stately Israelite stood in a dream, her
brilliant eyes fixed in profound preoccupation on the distance.
Kenkenes knew by the present attitude of the group that they had made
no obeisance to Amen. Hence the mutterings among the faithful. Few
had seen the offense at first, but the demonstration spread
nevertheless, and assumed ominous proportions.

"Nay, now," Kenkenes thought impatiently, "such impiety is foolhardy."
But he drifted into the group of Hebrews and stood between the woman of
Israel and her insulters. The bearers glanced at him, at one another,
and closed up beside him, but he had eyes only for the majestic
Israelite. Not till he saw her bend with singular grace did he look
again on the pageant, interested to know what had won her homage.

She had done obeisance before the crown prince of Egypt. He stood in a
sumptuous chariot drawn by white horses and driven by a handsome
charioteer. The p