vision, like his father's, was defective. He was forty
years old, but appeared to be younger. His person was plump, and in
stature he was shorter than the average Egyptian. His coloring was
high and of uniform tint. The arch of the brow, and the conspicuous
distance between it and the eye below, the disdainful tension of the
nostril and the drooping corners of the mouth, gave his face the
injured expression of a spoiled child. The lips were of similar
fullness and the chin retreated. There was refinement in his face, but
no force nor modicum of perception.

Below, with the light of the torch wavering up and down his robust
figure, was Har-hat, Meneptah's greatest general and now the new
fan-bearer. In repose his face was expressive of great good-humor.
Merriment lighted his eyes and the cut of his mouth was for laughter.
But the smile seemed to be set and, furthermore, indicated that the
fan-bearer found much mirth in the discomfiture of others. Aside from
this undefined atmosphere of heartlessness, it can not be said that
there was any craft or wickedness patent on his face, for his features
were good and indicative of unusual intelligence. To the unobservant,
he seemed to be a lovable, useful, able man. However, we have seen
what Mentu thought of him, and Mentu's estimation might have
represented that of all profound thinkers. But to the latter class,
most assuredly, Meneptah did not belong.

Har-hat, taking the place of the king during the Rebu war, had
displayed such generalship that the Pharaoh had rewarded him at the
first opportunity with the highest office, except the regency, at his
command.

To the king's right, beside the dais, with a hand resting on the back
of a cathedra, or great chair, was the crown prince, Rameses. The old
courtiers of the dead grandsire, visiting the court of Meneptah, flung
up their hands and gasped when they beheld the heir to the double crown
of Egypt. They looked upon the old Pharaoh, renewed in youth and
strength. There were the same narrow temples with the sloping brow,
the same hawked nose, the same full lips, the same heavy eye with the
smoldering ember in its dusky depths. The only radical dissimilarity
was the hue of the prince's complexion. It was a strange, un-Egyptian
pallor, an opaque whiteness with dark shadows that belied the testimony
of vigor in his sinewy frame.

The old courtiers that were still attached to the court of Meneptah
watched with fas