's magnanimity in the warmest terms.

"You have proved to me," he said, "that the virtues of gratitude, of
constancy, and of faith are practised by the Egyptians; although your
merit certainly appears less to me now that I see your wife, for he who
owns the fairest may easily forego any taste for the fair."

Nefert blushed.

"Your generosity," she answered, "does me more than justice at your
daughter's expense, and love moved my husband to the same injustice, but
your beautiful daughter must forgive you and me also."

Praxilla went towards her and expressed her thanks; then she offered her
the costly coronet, the golden clasps and strings of rare pearls which
her women carried; her father begged Mena to accept a coat of mail and a
shield of fine silver work. The strangers were then led into the tent,
and were there welcomed and entertained with all honor, and offered bread
and wine. While Mena pledged her father, Praxilla related to Nefert, with
the help of the interpreter, what hours of terror she had lived through
after she had been taken prisoner by the Egyptians, and was brought into
the camp with the other spoils of war; how an older commander had
asserted his claim to her, how Mena had given her his hand, had led her
to his tent, and had treated her like his own daughter. Her voice shook
with emotion, and even the interpreter was moved as she concluded her
story with these words: "How grateful I am to him, you will fully
understand when I tell you that the man who was to have been my husband
fell wounded before my eyes while defending our camp; but he has
recovered, and now only awaits my return for our wedding."

"May the Gods only grant it!" cried the king, "for Praxilla is the last
child of my house. The murderous war robbed me of my four fair sons
before they had taken wives, my son-in-law was slain by the Egyptians at
the taking of our camp, and his wife and new-born son fell into their
hands, and Praxilla is my youngest child, the only one left to me by the
envious Gods."

While he was still speaking, they heard the guards call out and a child's
loud cry, and at the same instant little Scherau rushed into the tent
holding up his hand exclaiming.

"I have it! I have found it!"

Uarda, who had remained behind the curtain which screened the sleeping
room of the tent--but who had listened with breathless attention to every
word of the foreigners, and who had never taken her eyes off the fair
Praxilla--n