two hands. One of these held
Amon by the throat and one held the new Pharaoh by the throat. After
them came a column of cloud, and in it a shape like to that of an
unwrapped mummy, a shape of death standing upon water that was full of
countless dead."

Now I bethought me of the picture that the Prince and I had seen in
the skies yonder in the land of Goshen, but of it I said nothing. Yet I
think that Bakenkhonsu saw into my mind, for he asked:

"Do _you_ never dream, Friend? You see visions that come true--Amenmeses
on the throne, for instance. Do you not also dream at times? No? Well,
then, the Prince? You look like men who might, and the time is ripe
and pregnant. Oh! I remember. You are both of you dreaming, not of the
pictures that pass across the terrible eyes of Ki, but of those that the
moon reflects upon the waters of Memphis, the Moon of Israel. Ana, be
advised by me, put away the flesh and increase the spirit, for in it
alone is happiness, whereof woman and all our joys are but earthly
symbols, shadows thrown by that mortal cloud which lies between us and
the Light Above. I see that you understand, because some of that light
has struggled to your heart. Do you remember that you saw it shining in
the hour when your little daughter died? Ah! I thought so. It was the
gift she left you, a gift that will grow and grow in such a breast as
yours, if only you will put away the flesh and make room for it,
Ana. Man, do not weep--laugh as I do, Oho-ho! Give me my staff, and
good-night. Forget not that we sit together at the crowning to-morrow,
for you are a King's Companion and that rank once conferred is one which
no new Pharaoh can take away. It is like the gift of the spirit, Ana,
which is hard to win, but once won more eternal than the stars. Oh! why
do I live so long who would bathe in it, as when a child I used to bathe
in Nile?"

On the following day at the appointed hour I went to the great hall of
the palace, that in which I had first seen Meneptah, and took my stand
in the place allotted to me. It was somewhat far back, perhaps because
it was not wished that I, who was known to be the private scribe of
Seti, should remind Egypt of him by appearing where all could see me.

Great as was the hall the crowd filled it to its furthest corners.
Moreover no common man was present there, but rather every noble and
head-priest in Egypt, and with them their wives and daughters, so that
all the dim courts shone wi