her. A mysterious Providence shielded her.
Anubis, which she formally claimed as hers, was the only one of the
numerous dumb dwellers in the fan-bearer's house that had escaped. And
of him there is something to be told.

Shortly after the arrival of the Israelites in Memphis, Anubis
disappeared for days.

"He is gone to visit the murket," Masanath explained.

One noon Rachel, resting on the housetop with her hostess, saw him
leisurely returning, by starts of interest and recollection. Behind
him, walking cautiously, was a man.

"Anubis returneth," Rachel said, sitting up.

Masanath raised herself and looked.

"Imhotep[1] plagues mine eyes, or that is the murket following him,"
she exclaimed.

Immediately Rachel began to tremble and, sinking back on her cushions,
hid her face. Masanath continued to watch the approaching man.

"If he comes shall I send for thee?" she asked in a half-whisper.

The Israelite shook her head. "Only if he asks for me," she answered.

"A pest on the creature!" Masanath exclaimed impatiently after a little
silence. "He is torturing the man! Hath he forgot the place?"

She leaned over the parapet and called the ape. The murket looked up.

"Anubis is my guest, noble Mentu," she replied. "Wilt thou not come up
with him?"

The murket looked at her a moment before he answered.

"Nay, I thank thee, my Lady. I left the noonday meal that I might be
led at the creature's will. He is restless since my son is gone."

Every word of the murket's fell plainly on Rachel's ears. The tones
were those of Kenkenes, grown older. The statement came to her as a
call upon her knowledge of the young artist's whereabouts.

"Tell him--tell him--" she whispered desperately.

"What?" asked Masanath, turning about.

"Tell him where Kenkenes went!"

The Egyptian leaned over the parapet. "Fie! he is gone!" she said.
"Nay, but I shall catch him;" and flying down through the house, out
into the narrow passage, she overtook the murket.

This is what she told Rachel when she returned:

"I said to him: 'My Lord, I know where Kenkenes went.' And he said:
'Of a truth?' in the calmest way. 'Aye,' said I. 'It hath come to
mine ears that he went to Tape,' 'That have I known for long,' he
answered, after he had looked at me till I wished I were away. 'That
have I known for long, and why he went and why he came not back,' and
having said, he smoothed my hair and told me I was not much like my