loved him and his genius. Meneptah, in memory of Mentu and his artist
son who had served his king so well, set up no sculptor nor any murket
in his place. It was the one graceful act in the life of the feeble
king, the one resolution to which he held most tenaciously.

Though Mentu's union with Senci was short, it was most happy, save
perhaps for the absence of Kenkenes. But after the letter came from
the well-beloved son there was more cheer in the heart of the father.
Kenkenes was not dead, only absent, as he would have been had he lived
in Tanis or Thebes. Furthermore, the young man had spoken glowingly
and at length on the future of Israel and the Promised Land, and Mentu
told himself that he might visit Kenkenes one day in that new country.

Since there were no children in their house, Senci and the murket
spoiled Anubis, and in the eyes of his devoted master the ape had
earned his soft life. Shortly after the departure of Kenkenes Mentu
discovered the ape burying something in the sand of the courtyard
flower-beds. In spite of the favorite's vigorous protests Mentu
overturned the tiny heap of earth and discovered therein the
lapis-lazuli signet. There was but one explanation of the ape's
possession of the gem. He had torn the scarab from about the neck of
Unas when he flew in his face, the moment the light went out. After
his nature, he kept the jewel because it was bright.

All these things--the discovery of the signet in the tomb, the safety
of Kenkenes when all the other first-born had died, and the testimony
of the miracles to the power of Israel's God--made the good murket
think deeply. Indeed, all Egypt thought deeply after the Exodus of
Israel, and to such extremes was this sober thinking carried that
through very fear many added the name of the Hebrews' God to the
Pantheon. Mentu did not go so far, because he saw the inconsistency in
such procedure, but he shook his head and pondered and was not wholly
satisfied with many things in the Osirian creed.

Of the love of Hotep and Masanath something yet remains to be told. It
was common to examine the entire family of a traitor as to their
complicity in his misdeeds, and the option lay with the Pharaoh whether
or not they should bear some of his punishment. Har-hat was dead, the
army destroyed at his hands. When the news of the disaster reached
Tanis Meneptah's anger and grief knew no bounds.

After Rameses had been interred at Thebes beside hi