mind
to kill me in my sleep, Asti? Is that your command? Well, if so, I shall
not blame you, for then I will break this long fast of mine with Pharaoh
and the divine mother, Ahura, who bore me, and together in the pleasant
Fields of Peace we will wait for Rames, my lover and your son. Being a
queen, they will give my burial in my father's tomb, and that is all I
crave of them, and of this weary world. Sing me to rest, Nurse, as you
were wont to do when I was little, and, if it be your will, tarry not
long behind me."

So she laid herself down upon the bed, and, taking her hand that had
grown so thin, the tall and noble Asti bent over her in the darkness,
and began to sing a gentle chant or lullaby.

Tua's eyes closed, her breath came slow and deep. Then Asti the magician
ceased her song and, gathering up her secret strength, put out her
prayers, prayer after prayer, till at length all her soul was pure, and
she dared to utter the awful spell that Ahura had whispered in her ear.
At the muttered, holy words wild voices cried through the night, the
solid pylon rocked, and in the city the crystal globe into which Kaku
and Merytra gazed was suddenly shattered between them, and, white with
terror at he knew not what, Abi sprang from his couch.

Then Asti also sank into sleep or swoon, and all was silent in that
chamber, silent as the grave.

Neter-Tua awoke. Through the pylon window-place crept the first
grey light of dawn. Her eyes searching the gloom fell first upon the
dark-robed figure of Asti sleeping in a chair, her head resting upon
her hand. Then a brightness drew them to the foot of her bed, and there,
clothed in a faint, white light, that seemed as though it were drawn
from the stars and the moon, wearing the Double Crown, and arrayed in
all the royal robes of Egypt, she saw--_herself_.

Now Tua knew that she dreamed, and for a long while lay still, for it
pleased her, starved and wretched as she was, a prisoner in the hands of
her foes, a netted bird, to let her fancy dwell upon this splendid image
of what she had been before an evil fate, speaking with the voice of
Merytra, Lady of the Footstool, had beguiled dead Pharaoh to Memphis. If
things had gone well with her, she should be as that image was to-day,
that image which wore her crown and robes of state, yes, and her very
jewels. Such were the changes of fortune even in the lives of princes
whose throne seemed to be set upon a rock, princes whom the g