rned them by listening to old Hekt, who
often used to play on a lute in the dusk, and who, when she perceived
that Uarda caught the melodies, had pointed out her faults, and given her
advice.

"She may some day come into my hands," thought the witch, "and the better
she sings, the better she will be paid."

Bent-Anat too tried to teach Uarda, but learning to read was not easy to
the girl, however much pains she might take. Nevertheless, the princess
would not give up the spelling, for here, at the foot of the immense
sacred mountain at whose summit she gazed with mixed horror and longing,
she was condemned to inactivity, which weighed the more heavily on her in
proportion as those feelings had to be kept to herself which she longed
to escape from in work. Uarda knew the origin of her mistress's deep
grief, and revered her for it, as if it were something sacred. Often she
would speak of Pentaur and of his father, and always in such a manner
that the princess could not guess that she knew of their love.

When the prisoners were passing Bent-Anat's tent, she was sitting within
with Nefert, and talking, as had become habitual in the hours of dusk, of
her father, of Mena, Rameri, and Pentaur.

"He is still alive," asserted Nefert. "My mother, you see, says that no
one knows with certainty what became of him. If he escaped, he beyond a
doubt tried to reach the king's camp, and when we get there you will find
him with your father."

The princess looked sadly at the ground. Nefert looked affectionately at
her, and asked:

"Are you thinking of the difference in rank which parts you from the man
you have chosen?"

"The man to whom I offer my hand, I put in the rank of a prince," said
Bent-Anat. "But if I could set Pentaur on a throne, as master of the
world, he would still be greater and better than I."

"But your father?" asked Nefert doubtfully.

"He is my friend, he will listen to me and understand me. He shall know
everything when I see him; I know his noble and loving heart."

Both were silent for some time; then Bent-Anat spoke:

"Pray have lights brought, I want to finish my weaving."

Nefert rose, went to the door of the tent, and there met Uarda; she
seized Nefert's hand, and silently drew her out into the air.

"What is the matter, child? you are trembling," Nefert exclaimed.

"My father is here," answered Uarda hastily. "He is escorting some
prisoners from the mines of Mafkat. Among them there are two c