ng height to work. From time to time he shifted his
position, touching her hand often and saying little.

The pedestal given shape, he began its elaboration. Pattern after
pattern of graceful foliation emerged till the design assumed the
intricate complexity of the Egyptic style.

Rachel watched with absorbed interest, her head unconsciously settling
to one side in critical contemplation. Kenkenes, pressing the blade
firmly upon the chalk, felt her cheek touch his shoulder for a fraction
of a second; his fingers lost their steadiness and direction, but not
their strength; the blade slipped, and the fierce edge struck the white
hand that held the statuette.

With a cry he dropped the knife, flung one arm about her and drew her
very close to him. The image toppled down and was broken on the rock
below, but he saw only the fine scarlet thread on the soft flesh.

Again and again he pressed the wounded hand to his lips, his eyes
dimmed with tears of compunction.

"O, Rachel, Rachel!" he exclaimed in a sudden burst of passionate
contrition. "Must even the most loving hand in Egypt be lifted against
thee?"

The great content on the glorified face against his breast was all the
expression of pardon that he asked.

"My love! My Rachel!" he whispered. "Ah, ye generous gods! indulge me
still further. Let this, your richest gift, be mine."

The gods!

Stunned and only realizing that she must undo his clasp, she freed
herself and retreated a little space from him.

And then she remembered.

Slowly and relentlessly it came home to her that this was one of the
abominable idolaters, and she had forsworn such for ever. These very
arms that had held her so shelteringly had been lifted in supplication
to the idols, and the lips, whose kiss she had awaited, would swear to
love her, by an image. The pitiless truth, once admitted, smote her
cruelly. She covered her face with her hands.

Kenkenes, amazed and deeply moved, went to her immediately.

"What have I said?" he begged. "What have I done?"

What had he done, indeed? But to have spoken, though to explain, would
have meant capitulation. She wavered a moment, and then turning away,
fled up the valley toward the camp--not from him, but from herself.

CHAPTER XVI

TEE ADVICE OF HOTEP

If Mentu, looking up from the old murkets, noted that the face of his
son was weary and sad, he laid it to the sudden heat of the spring; for
now it was the middle of