ry detail of her face with his memory of the statue of
Athor, noting with satisfaction that his studies had been happily
faithful. His scrutiny was so swift and skilful that there seemed to
be nothing unusual in his gaze.

"I am culpable but impenitent," he continued. "I shall not forswear
mine offense. Neither is there any need of a plea to justify myself,
for my very sin is its own justification. Behold me! I perched myself
like a sacred hawk at the mouth of the valley and filched thy likeness.
Do with me as thou wilt, but I shall die reiterating approval of my
deed."

His extravagant speech wrought an interesting change on the face before
him. There was a pronounced curve of her mouth, a slight tension in
the chiseled nostril--in fact, an indefinable disdain that had not been
there before. It would become Athor well. Kenkenes understood the
look but he did not flinch. Instead he let his head drop slowly until
he looked at her from under his brows. Then he summoned into his eyes
all the wounded feeling, pathos, soft reproach and appeal, of which his
graceless young heart was capable, and gazed at her.

Khufu might have been as easily melted by the twinkle of a rain drop.
Never in his life had he faced such comprehensive contemplation. Calm,
monumental and icy disdain deepened on every feature.

Kenkenes stood motionless and suffered her to look at him. Being a man
of fine soul, the eloquent gaze spoke well-deserved rebuke. He knew
that his color had risen, and his eyes fell in spite of heroic efforts
to keep them steady. His sensations were unique; never had he
experienced the like. When he recovered himself her blue eyes were
fixed absently on the distant quarries.

Every impulse urged him to set himself right in the eyes of this most
discerning slave.

"Wilt thou forgive me?" he asked earnestly. "I would I could make thee
know I crave thy good will."

There was no mistaking the honesty in these words.

Her face relaxed instantly.

"But I fear I have not set about it wisely," he added. "Let me give
thee a peace-offering to prove my contrition."

He slipped from about his neck the collar of golden rings and moved
forward to put it about her throat.

She drew back, her face flushing hotly under an expression of positive
pain.

Kenkenes dropped his hands to his sides with a limpness highly
suggestive of desperate perplexity. Was not this a slave? And yet
here was the fine feeling of a