it a great thing," I asked, "that I should slay a lion? Is it a
matter worthy of such talk as thine? There live, and have lived, men who
have slain many lions. Did not the Divine Amen-hetep the Osirian slay
with his own hand more than a hundred lions? Is it not written on the
scarabaeus that hangs within my father's chamber, that he slew lions
aforetime? And have not others done likewise? Why then, speakest thou
thus, O foolish woman?"

All of which I said, because, having now slain the lion, I was minded,
after the manner of youth, to hold it as a thing of no account. But she
did not cease to make obeisance, and to call me by names that are too
high to be written.

"O Royal One," she cried, "wisely did thy mother prophecy. Surely the
Holy Spirit, the Knepth, was in her, O thou conceived by a God! See the
omen. The lion there--he growls within the Capitol at Rome--and the dead
man, he is the Ptolemy--the Macedonian spawn that, like a foreign weed,
hath overgrown the land of Nile; with the Macedonian Lagidae thou shalt
go to smite the lion of Rome. But the Macedonian cur shall fly, and the
Roman lion shall strike him down, and thou shalt strike down the lion,
and the land of Khem shall once more be free! free! Keep thyself but
pure, according to the commandment of the Gods, O son of the Royal
House; O hope of Khemi! be but ware of Woman the Destroyer, and as I
have said, so shall it be. I am poor and wretched; yea, stricken with
sorrow. I have sinned in speaking of what should be hid, and for my sin
I have paid in the coin of that which was born of my womb; willingly
have I paid for thee. But I have still of the wisdom of our people, nor
do the Gods, in whose eyes all are equal, turn their countenance from
the poor; the Divine Mother Isis hath spoken to me--but last night she
spake--bidding me come hither to gather herbs, and read to thee the
signs that I should see. And as I have said, so it shall come to pass,
if thou canst but endure the weight of the great temptation. Come
hither, Royal One!" and she led me to the edge of the canal, where the
water was deep, and still and blue. "Now gaze upon that face as the
water throws it back. Is not that brow fitted to bear the double crown?
Do not those gentle eyes mirror the majesty of kings? Hath not the Ptah,
the Creator, fashioned that form to fit the Imperial garb, and awe the
glance of multitudes looking through thee to God?

"Nay, nay!" she went on in another voice--a