'Come with me into that garden. We will find grapes there, and
something else also.' Then my wife went into the garden with that
warrior. I fell into great rage, and I looked at them through the wall.
But whether stones were thrown at the prince's house or not I cannot
tell, for because of the trees and darkness I could not see anything."

"But how couldst Thou let thy wife go with a warrior?" asked the
official.

"With permission, worthiness, what was I to do? I am only an earth
worker, and he is a warrior and soldier of his holiness."

"But didst Thou see the priest who spoke to you?"

"That was not a priest," said the man, with conviction. "That must have
been the god Num himself, for he came out of a fig-tree and he had a
ram's head on him."

"But didst Thou see that he had a ram's head?"

"With permission I do not remember well whether I saw myself or whether
people told me. My eyes were affected by anxiety for my wife."

"Didst Thou throw stones at the garden?"

"Why should I throw stones, lord of life and death? If I had hit my
wife, I should have made trouble for a week. If I had hit the warrior,
I should have got a blow of a fist in the belly that would have made my
tongue stick out, for I am nothing but an earth-worker, and he is a
warrior of our lord who lives through eternity."

The heir leaned out from behind the column. They led away Dutmoses, and
brought in Anup. He was a short fellow. On his shoulders were scars
from club-strokes.

"Tell me, Anup," began the official again, "how was it about that
attack on the garden of the heir to the throne?"

"Eye of the sun," said the man, "vessel of wisdom, Thou knowest best of
all that I did not make the attack, only a neighbor comes to me and
says he, 'Anup, come up, for the Nile is rising.' And I say to him, 'Is
it rising?' And he says to me, 'Thou art duller than an ass, for an ass
would hear music on a hill, and Thou dost not hear it.' 'But,' says I,
'I am dull, for I did not learn writing; but with permission music is
one thing and the rise of the river is another.' 'If there were not a
rise,' says he, 'people would not have anything to be glad about and
play and sing.' So I say to thy justice, we went to the hill, and they
had driven away the music there and were throwing stones at the
garden."

"Who threw stones?"

"I could not tell. The men did not look like earth-workers, but more
like unclean dissectors who open dead bodies for embalming."