ed, which was but half the truth, for, in fact, she
had set all his southern blood on fire, and there was nothing that he
desired more than to call her wife.

On the night which had been appointed for Amathel to meet his destined
bride, a feast had been prepared richer by far than any that went
before. Tua, feigning ignorance, on entering the great unroofed hall lit
with hundreds of torches down all its length, and seeing the multitudes
at the tables, asked of the Pharaoh, her father, who was the guest that
he would welcome with such magnificence which seemed worthy of a god
rather than of a man.

"My daughter," answered the old monarch nervously, "it is none other
than the Prince of Kesh, who in his own country they worship as divine,
as we are worshipped here in Egypt, and who, in truth, is, or will be,
one of the greatest of kings."

"Kesh!" she answered, "I thought that we claimed sovereignty over that
land."

"Once it was ours, Daughter," said her father with a sigh, "or rather
the kings of Kesh were also kings of Egypt, but their dynasty fell
before my great-great-grandfather was called to the throne, and now but
three of their blood are left, Mermes, Captain of the Guard of Amen;
Asti, the Seer and Priestess, his wife, your foster-mother and waiting
lady, and the young Count Rames, a soldier in our army, who was your
playmate, and as you may remember saved you from the sacred crocodile."

"Yes, I remember," said Tua. "But then why is not Mermes King of Kesh?"

"Because the people of the city of Napata raised up another house to
rule over them, of whom Amathel is the heir."

"A usurping heir, surely, my father, if there be anything in blood."

"Say not that, Tua," replied Pharaoh sharply, "for then Mermes should be
Pharaoh in our place also."

Tua made no reply, only as they took their seats in the golden chairs at
the head of the hall, she asked carelessly:

"Is this Prince of Kesh also a suitor for my hand, O Pharaoh?"

"What else should he be, my daughter? Did you not know it? Be gracious
to him now, since it is decreed that you shall take him as a husband.
Hush! answer not. He comes."

As he spoke a sound of wild music arose, and at the far end of the great
hall appeared a band of players gorgeously attired, who blew horns made
from small tusks of the elephant, clashed brazen cymbals and beat gilded
drums. These advanced a little way up the hall and stood there playing,
while after them marched a