ere is thy host?" cried the Queen. "At the least some are
left."

"Yes, Queen, _all_ are left--all--all--save myself alone. They drift to
and fro in the Sea of Weeds--they lie by tens of thousands on its banks;
the gulls tear their eyes, the lion of the desert rends their flesh;
they lie unburied, their breath sighs in the sea gales, their blood
sinks into the salt sands, and Osiris numbers them in the hosts of hell.
Hearken! I came upon the tribes of the Apura by the banks of the Sea of
Weeds. I came at eve, but I might not fall upon them because of a veil
of darkness that spread between my armies and the hosts of the Apura.
All night long through the veil of darkness, and through the shrieking
of a great gale, I heard a sound as of the passing of a mighty
people--the clangour of their arms, the voices of captains, the stamp of
beasts, and the grinding of wheels. The morning came, and lo! before me
the waters of the sea were built up as a wall on the right hand and the
left, and between the walls of water was dry land, and the Apura passed
between the walls. Then I cried to my captains to arise and follow
swiftly, and they did my bidding. But the chariot wheels drew heavily in
the sand, so that before all my host had entered between the waters, the
Apura had passed the sea. Then of a sudden, as last of all I passed down
into the path of the ocean bed, the great wind ceased, and as it ceased,
lo! the walls of water that were on either side of the sea path fell
together with noise like the noise of thunder. I turned my chariot
wheels, and fled back, but my soldiers, my chariots, and my horses were
swallowed; once more they were seen again on the crest of the black
waves like a gleam of light upon a cloud, once a great cry arose to the
heaven; then all was done and all was still, and of my hosts I alone was
left alive of men."

So Pharaoh spoke, and a great groan rose from those who hearkened. Only
Meriamun spoke:

"So shall things go with us while that False Hathor dwells in Khem."

Now as she spoke thus, again there came a sound of knocking at the gates
and a cry of "Open--a messenger! a messenger!"

"Open!" said Meriamun, "though his tidings be ill, scarce can they match
these that have been told."

The gates were opened, and one came through them. His eyes stared wide
in fear, so dry was his throat with haste and with the sand, that he
stood speechless before them all.

"Give him wine," cried Meriamun, and win