motioned Kenkenes to a seat of inlaid ebony and retired into a
curtained recess.

The apartment into which Kenkenes had been conducted was small. It was
evidently the study of Loi, for there was a small library of papyri in
cases against the wall; a deep fauteuil was before a heavy table
covered with loosely rolled writings. The light from a high slit under
the architrave sifted down on the floor strewn with carpets of
Damascene weave. Two great pillars, closely set, supported the
ceiling. They were of red and black granite, and each was surmounted
by a foliated encarpus of white marble. The ceiling was a marvelous
marquetry of many and wondrously harmonious colors.

In one wall was the entrance leading to another chamber. It was
screened by a slowly swaying curtain of broidered linen, which was tied
at its upper corners to brass rings sunk in the stone frame of the
door. This frame attracted the attention of the young sculptor. It
consisted of two caryatides standing out from the square shaft from
which they were carved, their erect heads barely touching the ceiling.
The figures were of heroic size and wore the repose and dignity of
countenance characteristic of Egyptian statues. The sculptor had been
so successful in bringing out this expression that Kenkenes stood
before them and groaned because he had not followed nature to the
exquisite achievement he might have attained.

He was deeply interested in his critical examination of the figures
when the old priest darted into the apartment, his withered face
working with excitement.

"Go! Go!" he cried. "Eat and prepare to return to Memphis with all
speed. Thine answer will await thee here to-night at the end of the
first watch,--and Set be upon thee if thou delayest!"

Kenkenes, startled out of speech, did obeisance and hastened from the
temple.

The outside air was thick with dust and intensely hot under the
reddening glare of the sun. It was late afternoon. The city was still
crowded, the river front lined with a dense jam of people awaiting
transportation to the opposite shore. Kenkenes knew that many would
still be there on the morrow, since the number of boats was inadequate
to carry the multitude of passengers.

He began to think with concern upon the security of his own bari, left
in the marsh-growth by the Nile side, north of Karnak. He left the
shifting crowd behind and struck across the sandy flat toward the arm
of quiet water. Stra