to the king--nearer than I, and your mother--"

"My mother!"--Nefert interrupted the angry Mohar. "My mother did not
choose my husband. I saw him driving the chariot, and to me he resembled
the Sun God, and he observed me, and looked at me, and his glance
pierced deep into my heart like a spear; and when, at the festival of
the king's birthday, he spoke to me, it was just as if Hathor had thrown
round me a web of sweet, sounding sunbeams. And it was the same with
Mena; he himself has told me so since I have been his wife. For your
sake my mother rejected his suit, but I grew pale and dull with longing
for him, and he lost his bright spirit, and was so melancholy that the
king remarked it, and asked what weighed on his heart--for Rameses loves
him as his own son. Then Mena confessed to the Pharaoh that it was love
that dimmed his eye and weakened his strong hand; and then the king
himself courted me for his faithful servant, and my mother gave way,
and we were made man and wife, and all the joys of the justified in the
fields of Aalu

[The fields of the blest, which were opened to glorified souls. In
the Book of the Dead it is shown that in them men linger, and sow
and reap by cool waters.]

are shallow and feeble by the side of the bliss which we two have
known--not like mortal men, but like the celestial gods."

Up to this point Nefert had fixed her large eyes on the sky, like a
glorified soul; but now her gaze fell, and she said softly--

"But the Cheta

[An Aramaean race, according to Schrader's excellent judgment. At
the time of our story the peoples of western Asia had allied
themselves to them.]

disturbed our happiness, for the king took Mena with him to the war.
Fifteen times did the moon, rise upon our happiness, and then--"

"And then the Gods heard my prayer, and accepted my offerings," said
Paaker, with a trembling voice, "and tore the robber of my joys from
you, and scorched your heart and his with desire. Do you think you can
tell me anything I do not know? Once again for fifteen days was Mena
yours, and now he has not returned again from the war which is raging
hotly in Asia."

"But he will return," cried the young wife.

"Or possibly not," laughed Paaker. "The Cheta, carry sharp weapons, and
there are many vultures in Lebanon, who perhaps at this hour are tearing
his flesh as he tore my heart."

Nefert rose at these words, her sensitive spirit bruised as with stones
throw