he object he had lost, and a
declaration as to when and where he had lost it. The stolen
property was then easily recovered, and restored to the owner on
the payment of one fourth of its value, which was given to the
thief. A similar state of things existed at Cairo within a
comparatively short time.]

so we simply take their booty from them, and let them go. But say,
Paaker, what devil of amiability took possession of you down by the
river, that you let the rascal escape unpunished."

"Did you do that?" exclaimed Gagabu. "Revenge is usually your--"

Ameni threw so warning a glance at the old man, that he suddenly broke
off, and then asked the pioneer: "How did the struggle begin, and who was
the fellow?"

"Some insolent people," said Paaker, "wanted to push in front of the boat
that was waiting for my mother, and I asserted my rights. The rascal fell
upon me, and killed my dog and--by my Osirian father!--the crocodiles
would long since have eaten him if a woman had not come between us, and
made herself known to me as Bent-Anat, the daughter of Rameses. It was
she herself, and the rascal was the young prince Rameri, who was
yesterday forbidden this temple."

"Oho!" cried the old master of the hunt. "Oho! my lord! Is this the way
to speak of the children of the king?"

Others of the company who were attached to Pharaoh's family expressed
their indignation; but Ameni whispered to Paaker--"Say no more!" then he
continued aloud:

"You never were careful in weighing your words, my friend, and now, as it
seems to me, you are speaking in the heat of fever. Come here, Gagabu,
and examine Paaker's wound, which is no disgrace to him--for it was
inflicted by a prince."

The old man loosened the bandage from the pioneer's swollen hand.

"That was a bad blow," he exclaimed; "three fingers are broken, and--do
you see?--the emerald too in your signet ring."

Paaker looked down at his aching fingers, and uttered a sigh of rehef,
for it was not the oracular ring with the name of Thotmes III., but the
valuable one given to his father by the reigning king that had been
crushed. Only a few solitary fragments of the splintered stone remained
in the setting; the king's name had fallen to pieces, and disappeared.
Paaker's bloodless lips moved silently, and an inner voice cried out to
him: "The Gods point out the way! The name is gone, the bearer of the
name must follow."

"It is a pity about the ring," said Gagabu