ne with this! I command you! I am Bent-Anat, the daughter of
Rameses."

The angry crowd gave way in sheer astonishment. Pentaur had recovered
from the stunning blow, but he thought he must be under some illusion. He
felt as if he must throw himself on his knees before Bent-Anat, but his
mind had been trained under Ameni to rapid reflection; he realized, in a
flash of thought, the princess's position, and instead of bowing before
her he exclaimed:

"Whoever this woman may be, good folks, she is not Bent-Anat the
princess, but I, though I have no white robe on, am a priest of Seti,
named Pentaur, and the Cherheb of to-day's festival. Leave this spot,
woman, I command you, in right of my sacred office."

And Bent-Anat obeyed.

Pentaur was saved; for just as the people began to recover from their
astonishment just as those whom he had hurt were once more inciting the
mob to fight just as a boy, whose hand he had crushed, was crying out:
"He is not a priest, he is a sword's-man. Down with the liar!"

A voice from the crowd exclaimed:

"Make way for my white robe, and leave the preacher Pentaur alone, he is
my friend. You most of you know me."

"You are Nebsecht the leech, who set my broken leg," cried a sailor.

"And cured my bad eye," said a weaver.

"That tall handsome man is Pentaur, I know him well," cried the girl,
whose opinion had been overheard by Bent-Anat.

"Preacher this, preacher that!" shouted the boy, and he would have rushed
forward, but the people held him back, and divided respectfully at
Nebsecht's command to make way for him to get at those who had been hurt.

First he stooped over the old paraschites.

"Shame upon you!" he exclaimed.--You have killed the old man."

"And I," said Pentaur, "Have dipped my peaceful hand in blood to save his
innocent and suffering grandchild from a like fate."

"Scorpions, vipers, venomous reptiles, scum of men!" shrieked Nebsecht,
and he sprang wildly forward, seeking Uarda. When he saw her sitting safe
at the feet of old Hekt, who had made her way into the courtyard, he drew
a deep breath of relief, and turned his attention to the wounded.

"Did you knock down all that are lying here?" he whispered to his friend.

Pentaur nodded assent and smiled; but not in triumph, rather in shame;
like a boy, who has unintentionally squeezed to death in his hand a bird
he has caught.

Nebsecht looked round astonished and anxious. "Why did you not say who
you were?" he