plifted hands, the plumes and the god-head.

About the royal pavilion in triple cordon paced the noble body-guard of
the Pharaoh.

Of one of these Kenkenes asked that a personal attendant of the king be
sent to him.

In a little time, some one emerged from the Pharaoh's tent, and came
through the guard-line to the messenger. It was Nechutes.

The cup-bearer took but a single glance at Kenkenes and started back.

"Thou!" he exclaimed in a hoarse whisper. "Out of Amenti!"

"And nigh returning into it again," was the tired reply.

In a daze, Nechutes took the offered hands and stared at Kenkenes
through the dark.

"Where hast thou been?" he finally asked.

"In the profoundest depths of trouble, Nechutes, nor have I come out
therefrom."

The cup-bearer's face showed compassion even in the dusk.

"Nay, now; thine was but the fortune a multitude of lovers have
suffered before thee," he said, with a contrite note in his deep voice.
"It was even odds between us and I won. Hold it not against me,
Kenkenes."

It was the sculptor's turn to be amazed. But with one of the instant
realizations that acute memory effects, he recalled that he had
disappeared immediately after Nechutes had been accepted by the Lady
Ta-meri. And now, by the word of the apologetic cup-bearer, was it
made apparent to Kenkenes that a tragic fancy concerning the cause of
his disappearance had taken root in the cup-bearer's mind. With a
desperate effort, Kenkenes choked the first desire to laugh that had
seized him in months.

"Nay, let it pass, Nechutes," he said in a strained voice. "Thou and I
are friends. But lead me to the king, I pray thee."

"To the king?" the cup-bearer repeated doubtfully. "The king sleeps.
Will thine interests go to wreck if thou bidest till dawn?"

"I carry him a message," Kenkenes explained.

"A message!"

"Even so. Hand hither a torch."

A soldier went and returned with a flaming knot of pitch. In the
wavering light of the flambeau, Nechutes read the address on the linen
scroll.

"The king could not read by the night-lights," he said after a little.
"Much weeping is not helpful to such feeble eyes as his. Wait till
dawn. My tent is empty and my bed is soft. Wait till daybreak as my
guest."

"Where is Har-hat?"

"In his tent, yonder," pointing to a party-colored pavilion.

"Dost thou keep an unsleeping eye on the Pharaoh?"

"By night, aye."

Kenkenes had a thought to accept the cup-bea