other man, whom she spoke to as
Steward. She talked to him a long time. At first I did not listen, but
then I caught the name of Pentaur, and I got my head out, and now
I understand it all. The steward declared that the good Pentaur was
wicked, and stood in his way, and he said that Ameni was going to
send him to the quarries at Chennu, but that that was much too small
a punishment. Then Hekt advised him to give a secret commission to
the captain of the ship to go beyond Chennu, to the frightful
mountain-mines, of which she has often told me, for her father and her
brother were tormented to death there."

"None ever return from thence," said the prince. "But go on."

"What came next, I only half understood, but they spoke of some drink
that makes people mad. Oh! what I see and hear!--I would he contentedly
on my board all my life long, but all else is too horrible--I wish that
I were dead."

And the child began to cry bitterly.

Uarda, whose cheeks had turned pale, patted him affectionately; but
Rameri exclaimed:

"It is frightful! unheard of! But who was the steward? did you not hear
his name? Collect yourself, little man, and stop crying. It is a case
of life and death. Who was the scoundrel? Did she not name him? Try to
remember."

Scherau bit his red lips, and tried for composure. His tears ceased, and
suddenly he exclaimed, as he put his hand into the breast of his ragged
little garment: "Stay, perhaps you will know him again--I made him!"

"You did what?" asked the prince.

"I made him," repeated the little artist, and he carefully brought out
an object wrapped up in a scrap of rag, "I could just see his head quite
clearly from one side all the time he was speaking, and my clay lay by
me. I always must model something when my mind is excited, and this
time I quickly made his face, and as the image was successful, I kept it
about me to show to the master when Hekt was out."

While he spoke he had carefully unwrapped the figure with trembling
fingers, and had given it to Uarda.

"Ani!" cried the prince. "He, and no other! Who could have thought it!
What spite has he against Pentaur? What is the priest to him?"

For a moment he reflected, then he struck his hand against his forehead.

"Fool that I am!" he exclaimed vehemently. "Child that I am! of course,
of course; I see it all. Ani asked for Bent-Anat's hand, and she--now
that I love you, Uarda, I understand what ails her. Away with deceit! I
will te