in the
time of Hatasu, and the picture which he had in his mind, when he sowed
the seeds and planted the young shoots, was now realized, many decades
after his death. He had thought of planning a carpet, on which the
palace should seem to stand. Tiny streams, in bends and curves, formed
the outline of the design, and the shapes they enclosed were filled with
plants of every size, form, and color; beautiful plats of fresh
green turf everywhere represented the groundwork of the pattern, and
flower-beds and clumps of shrubs stood out from them in harmonious
mixtures of colors, while the tall and rare trees, of which Hatasu's
ships had brought several from Arabia, gave dignity and impressiveness
to the whole.
Clear drops sparkled on leaf and flower and blade, for, only a short
time before, the garden by Bent-Anat's house had been freshly watered.
The Nile beyond surrounded an island, where flourished the well-kept
sacred grove of Anion.
The Necropolis on the farther side of the river was also well seen
from Bent-Anat's balcony. There stood in long perspective the rows of
sphinxes, which led from the landing-place of the festal barges to the
gigantic buildings of Amenophis III. with its colossi--the hugest in
Thebes--to the House of Seti, and to the temple of Hatasu. There lay
the long workshops of the embalmers and closely-packed homes of the
inhabitants of the City of the Dead. In the farthest west rose the
Libyan mountains with their innumerable graves, and the valley of the
kings' tombs took a wide curve behind, concealed by a spur of the hills.
The two women looked in silence towards the west. The sun was near the
horizon--now it touched it, now it sank behind the hills; and as the
heavens flushed with hues like living gold, blazing rubies, and liquid
garnet and amethyst, the evening chant rang out from all the temples,
and the friends sank on their knees, hid their faces in the bower-rose
garlands that clung to the trellis, and prayed with full hearts.
When they rose night was spreading over the landscape, for the twilight
is short in Thebes. Here and there a rosy cloud fluttered across the
darkening sky, and faded gradually as the evening star appeared.
"I am content," said Bent-Anat. "And you? have you recovered your peace
of mind?"
Nefert shook her head. The princess drew her on to a seat, and sank down
beside her. Then she began again "Your heart is sore, poor child; they
have spoilt the past for you,
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