the help of
the Gods and overthrow all that oppose me."

"We cannot blow away a feather without the help of the Immortals,"
answered Setchem. "So your father used to say, who was a very different
man both in body and mind from you! I tremble before you this evening,
and at the curses you have uttered against the children of your lord and
sovereign, your father's best friend."

"But my enemy," shouted Paaker. "You will get nothing from me but curses.
And the brood of Rameses shall learn whether your husband's son will let
himself be ill-used and scorned without revenging him self. I will fling
them into an abyss, and I will laugh when I see them writhing in the sand
at my feet!"

"Fool!" cried Setchem, beside herself. "I am but a woman, and have often
blamed myself for being soft and weak; but as sure as I am faithful to
your dead father--who you are no more like than a bramble is like a
palm-tree--so surely will I tear my love for you out of my heart if
you--if you--Now I see! now I know! Answer me-murderer! Where are the
seven arrows with the wicked words which used to hang here? Where are the
arrows on which you had scrawled 'Death to Mena?'"

With these words Setchem breathlessly started forward, but the pioneer
drew back as she confronted him, as in his youthful days when she
threatened to punish him for some misdemeanor. She followed him up,
caught him by the girdle, and in a hoarse voice repeated her question. He
stood still, snatched her hand angrily from his belt, and said defiantly:

"I have put them in my quiver--and not for mere play. Now you know."

Incapable of words, the maddened woman once more raised her hand against
her degenerate son, but he put back her arm.

"I am no longer a child," he said, "and I am master of this house. I will
do what I will, if a hundred women hindered me!" and with these words he
pointed to the door. Setchem broke into loud sobs, and turned her back
upon him; but at the door once more she turned to look at him. He had
seated himself, and was resting his forehead on the table on which the
bowl of cold water stood.

Setchem fought a hard battle. At last once more through her choking tears
she called his name, opened her arms wide and exclaimed:

"Here I am--here I am! Come to my heart, only give up these hideous
thoughts of revenge."

But Paaker did not move, he did not look up at her, he did not speak, he
only shook his head in negation. Setchem's hands fell, and she