essed to my heart the
night before. And now I started in surprise at seeing before me,
adorned like an idol, not a woman, but a queen!

The heavy splendor of the Pharaohs weighted down her slender body. On
her head was the great gold _pschent_ of Egyptian gods and kings;
emeralds, the national stone of the Tuareg, were set in it, tracing
and retracing her name in Tifinar characters. A red satin _schenti_,
embroidered in golden lotus, enveloped her like the casket of a jewel.
At her feet, lay an ebony scepter, headed with a trident. Her bare
arms were encircled by two serpents whose fangs touched her armpits as
if to bury themselves there. From the ear pieces of the _pschent_
streamed a necklace of emeralds; its first strand passed under her
determined chin; the others lay in circles against her bare throat.

She smiled as I entered.

"I was expecting you," she said simply.

I advanced till I was four steps from the throne, then stopped before
her.

She looked at me ironically.

"What is that?" she asked with perfect calm.

I followed her gesture. The handle of the dagger protruded from my
pocket.

I drew it out and held it firmly in my hand, ready to strike.

"The first of you who moves will be sent naked six leagues into the
red desert and left there to die," said Antinea coldly to her women,
whom my gesture had thrown into a frightened murmuring.

She turned to me.

"That dagger is very ugly and you hold it badly. Shall I send Sydya to
my room to get the silver hammer? You are more adroit with it than
with the dagger."

"Antinea," I said in a low voice, "I am going to kill you."

"Do not speak so formally. You were more affectionate last night. Are
you embarrassed by them?" she said, pointing to the women, whose eyes
were wide with terror.

"Kill me?" she went on. "You are hardly reasonable. Kill me at the
moment when you can reap the fruits of the murder of...."

"Did--did he suffer?" I asked suddenly, trembling.

"Very little. I told you that you used the hammer as if you had done
nothing else all your life."

"Like little Kaine," I murmured.

She smiled in surprise.

"Oh, you know that story.... Yes, like little Kaine. But at least
Kaine was sensible. You ... I do not understand."

"I do not understand myself, very well."

She looked at me with amused curiosity.

"Antinea," I said.

"What is it?"

"I did what you told me to. May I in turn ask one favor, ask you one
question?"

"W