obable as thou art hopeful," the young
man said with a sigh.

"Out upon thee, idler!" was the warm reply. "Art thou come to vex me
with thy doubts and scout thy sovereign's pious intentions?" The young
man smiled.

"Hath the sun shone on architecture or sculpture since Meneptah
succeeded to the throne?" he asked.

Mentu's eyes brightened wrathfully but the young man laid a soothing
palm over the hand that gripped the reed.

"I do not mock thee, father. Rather am I full of sympathy for thee.
Thou mindest me of a war-horse, stabled, with his battle-love
unsatisfied, hearing in every whimper of the wind a trumpet call. Nay,
I would to Osiris that the Pharaoh's intents were permanent."

Somewhat mollified, Mentu put away the detaining hand and went on with
his work. Presently the young man spoke again.

"I came to speak further of the signet," he said.

"Aye, but what signet, Kenkenes?"

"The signet of the Incomparable Pharaoh."

"What! after three years?"

"The sanctuary of the tomb is never entered and it is more than worth
the Journey to Tape[2] to search for the scarab again."

"But you would search in vain," the sculptor declared. "Rameses has
reclaimed his own."

Kenkenes shifted his position and protested.

"But we made no great search for it. How may we know of a surety if it
be gone?"

"Because of thy sacrilege," was the prompt and forcible reply. "Osiris
with chin in hand and a look of mystification on his brow, pondering
over the misdeeds of a soul! Mystification on Osiris! And with that,
thou didst affront the sacred walls of the royal tomb and call it the
Judgment of the Dead. Not one law of the sculptor's ritual but thou
hadst broken, in the sacrilegious fresco. Gods! I marvel that the
rock did not crumble under the first bite of thy chisel!"

Mentu fell to his work again. While he talked a small ape entered the
room and, discovering the paint-pots, proceeded to decorate his person
with a liberal hand. At this moment Kenkenes became aware of him and,
by an accurately aimed lump of clay, drove the meddler out with a show
of more asperity than the offense would ordinarily excite. Meanwhile
the sculptor wetted his pen and, poising it over the plans, regarded
his drawings with half-closed eyes. Then, as if he read his words on
the papyrus he proceeded:

"Thou wast not ignorant. All thy life hast thou had the decorous laws
of the ritual before thee. And there, in the holy pre