our
poor backs by the cruel Gods; but when I heard the young priest from the
House of Seti, I felt that, after all, the Immortals are good, and we
have much to thank them for."

In another place a priest's wife said to her son:

"Could you see Pentaur well, Hor-Uza? He is of humble birth, but he
stands above the greatest in genius and gifts, and will rise to high
things."

Two girls were speaking together, and one said to the other:

"The speaker is the handsomest man I ever saw, and his voice sounds like
soft music."

"And how his eyes shone when he spoke of truth as the highest of all
virtues!" replied the other. "All the Gods, I believe, must dwell in
him."

Bent-Anat colored as these words fell on her ear. It was growing dark,
and she wished to return home but Rameri wished to follow the procession
as it marched through the western valley by torch-light, so that the
grave of his grandfather Seti should also be visited. The princess
unwillingly yielded, but it would in any case have been difficult to
reach the river while every one was rushing in the opposite direction;
so the two ladies, and Rameri, let themselves be carried along by the
crowd, and by the time the daylight was gone, they found themselves
in the western valley, where to-night no beasts of prey dared show
themselves; jackals and hyenas had fled before the glare of the torches,
and the lanterns made of colored papyrus.

The smoke of the torches mingled with the dust stirred by a thousand
feet, and the procession moved along, as it were, in a cloud, which also
shrouded the multitude that followed.

The three companions had labored on as far as the hovel of the
paraschites Pinem, but here they were forced to pause, for guards
drove back the crowd to the right and left with long staves, to clear a
passage for the procession as it approached.

"See, Rameri," said Bent-Anat, pointing out the little yard of the hut
which stood only a few paces from them. "That is where the fair, white
girl lives, whom I ran over. But she is much better. Turn round; there,
behind the thorn-hedge, by the little fire which shines full in your
(her? D.W.) face--there she sits, with her grandfather."

The prince stood on tip-toe, looked into the humble plot of ground, and
then said in a subdued voice "What a lovely creature! But what is she
doing with the old man? He seems to be praying, and she first holds
a handkerchief before his mouth, and then rubs his temples.