chariot to the chariot of Pharaoh
and bade him farewell. Pharaoh called to him to mount his own chariot,
and spake thus to him:

"Swear to me, thou Wanderer, who namest thyself Eperitus, though of what
country thou art and what was thy father's house none know, swear to me
that thou wilt guard Meriamun the Queen faithfully, and wilt work no woe
upon me nor open my house while I am afar. Great thou art and beautiful
to look on, ay, and strong enough beyond the strength of men, yet my
heart misdoubts me of thee. For methinks thou art a crafty man, and that
evil will come upon me through thee."

"If this be thy mind, Pharaoh," said the Wanderer, "leave me not in
guard of the Queen. And yet methinks I did not befriend thee so ill two
nights gone, when the rabble would have put thee and all thy house to
the sword because of the death of the firstborn."

Now Pharaoh looked on him long and doubtfully, then stretched out his
hand. The Wanderer took it, and swore by his own Gods, by Zeus, by
Aphrodite, and Athene, and Apollo, that he would be true to the trust.

"I believe thee, Wanderer," said Pharaoh. "Know this, if thou keepest
thine oath thou shalt have great rewards, and thou shalt be second
to none in the land of Khem, but if thou failest, then thou shalt die
miserably."

"I ask no fee," answered the Wanderer, "and I fear no death, for in one
way only shall I die, and that is known to me. Yet I will keep my oath."
And he bowed before Pharaoh, and leaping from his chariot entered again
into the chariot of Rei.

Now, as he drove back through the host the soldiers called to him,
saying:

"Leave us not, Wanderer." For he looked so glorious in his golden armour
that it seemed to them as though a god departed from their ranks.

His heart was with them, for he loved war, and he did not love the
Apura. But he drove on, as so it must be, and came to the Palace at
sundown.

That night he sat at the feast by the side of Meriamun the Queen. And
when the feast was done she bade him follow her into her chamber where
she sat when she would be alone. It was a fragrant chamber, dimly
lighted with sweet-scented lamps, furnished with couches of ivory and
gold, while all the walls told painted stories of strange gods and
kings, and of their loves and wars. The Queen sank back upon the
embroidered cushions of a couch and bade the wise Odysseus to sit guard
over against her, so near that her robes swept his golden greaves. This
he