ge to
the Prince. Think of me at times, when you grow old, and not unkindly,
seeing that I have served you as best I could, and your master also, who
I hope will soon find again that which he lost awhile ago."

"Her Highness, Princess Userti," I suggested.

"The Princess Userti among other things, Ana. Tell the Prince, if he
should deem them costly, that those horses which I sold him are really
of the finest Syrian blood, and of a strain that my family has owned for
generations. If you should chance to have any friend whose welfare you
desire, let him not go into the desert soldiering during the next few
moons, especially if Pharaoh be in command. Nay, I know nothing, but it
is a season of great storm. Farewell, friend Ana, and again farewell."

"Now what did he mean by that?" thought I to myself, as I departed to
make my report to Seti. But no answer to the question rose in my mind.

Very soon I began to understand. It appeared that at length the
Israelites were leaving Egypt, a vast horde of them, and with them tens
of thousands of Arabs of various tribes who worshipped their god
and were, some of them, descended from the people of the Hyksos, the
shepherds who once ruled in Egypt. That this was true was proved to us
by the tidings which reached us that all the Hebrew women who dwelt in
Memphis, even those of them who were married to Egyptians, had departed
from the city, leaving behind them their men and sometimes their
children. Indeed, before these went, certain of them who had been
friends visited Merapi, and asked her if she were not coming also. She
shook her head as she replied:

"Why do you go? Are you so fond of journeyings in the desert that for
the sake of them you are ready never again to look upon the men you love
and the children of your bodies?"

"No, Lady," they answered, weeping. "We are happy here in white-walled
Memphis and here, listening to the murmur of the Nile, we would grow
old and die, rather than strive to keep house in some desert tent with a
stranger or alone. Yet fear drives us hence."

"Fear of what?"

"Of the Egyptians who, when they come to understand all that they have
suffered at our hands in return for the wealth and shelter which they
have given us for many generations, whereby we have grown from a handful
into a great people, will certainly kill any Israelite whom they find
left among them. Also we fear the curses of our priests who bid us to
depart."

"Then _I_ should