ps
he stopped.

On a blank face of the rock, sheltered by a jutting ledge above it, was
an inscription, a little faint, but he ascribed that to the poor
quality of the pencil and roughness of the tablet. This is what he
read:

"Her whom thou seekest thou wilt find in the palace of Har-hat, in the
city."

Perhaps under other circumstances Kenkenes would have understood
correctly the origin and intent of the writing. Already, however, his
fears pointed to the palace of Har-hat as the prison of Rachel, and
this faint inscription was corroboration. It appealed to him as
villainy worthy of the fan-bearer. It was like his exquisite
effrontery.

Kenkenes whirled away with an indescribable sound, rather like the
snarl of an infuriated beast than an expression of a reasoning
creature. Dashing down the sand, he plunged into the Nile and swam
with superhuman speed for the Memphian shore.

He defied death as a maniac does. The river was a mile in width and
teeming with crocodiles. But the same saving Providence that shields
the adventurous child attended him. He clambered up the opposite bank
and struck out for Memphis on a hard run.

He had but one purpose and that was to find Har-hat and strangle him
with grim joy. The rescue of Rachel did not occur to him, for in his
excited mind the simple touch of the fan-bearer's hand was sufficient
to kill her with its dishonor.

He did not remember anything that Rachel had told him concerning her
life in Memphis, or that Har-hat was in Tanis, and Masanath like to be
the only resident in the fan-bearer's palace. His reasoning powers
abandoned their supremacy to all the fierce impulses toward revenge and
bloodletting of which his nature was capable.

Though it was day when he entered the great capital of the Pharaohs,
the streets were almost deserted, and every doorway and window showed
interiors brilliant with a multitude of lamps. Memphis was prepared
against a second smothering of the lights of heaven.

The few pedestrians Kenkenes met fell back and gave room to the
dripping apparition which ran as if death-pursued. One told him on
demand where the mansion of Har-hat stood, and after a few slow minutes
he was within its porch. He flung himself against the blank portal and
beat on it. He did not pause to await a response. He felt within him
strength to batter down the doors if they did not open.

Presently an old portress came forth from a side entry and Ken