peared by the hunter's cottage, but he stood
still, breathing painfully, spell-bound to the cliff by which he
stood--a long, long time--and did not stir.

He did not hear a light step, that came near to him, and died away
again, he did not feel that the sun began to cast fierce beams on him,
and on the porphyry cliff behind him, he did not see a woman now coming
quickly towards him; but, like a deaf man who has suddenly acquired the
sense of hearing, he started when he heard his name spoken--by whose
lips?

"Pentaur!" she said again; the poet opened his arms, and Bent-Anat fell
upon his breast; and he held her to him, clasped, as though he must hold
her there and never part from her all his life long.

Meanwhile the princess's companions were resting by the hunter's little
house.

"She flew into his arms--I saw it," said Uarda. "Never shall I forget
it. It was as if the bright lake there had risen up to embrace the
mountain."

"Where do you find such fancies, child?" cried Nefert.

"In my heart, deep in my heart!" cried Uarda. "I am so unspeakably
happy."

"You saved him and rewarded him for his goodness; you may well be
happy."

"It is not only that," said Uarda. "I was in despair, and now I see that
the Gods are righteous and loving."

Mena's wife nodded to her, and said with a sigh:

"They are both happy!"

"And they deserve to be!" exclaimed Uarda. "I fancy the Goddess of Truth
is like Bent-Anat, and there is not another man in Egypt like Pentaur."

Nefert was silent for awhile; then she asked softly: "Did you ever see
Mena?"

"How should I?" replied the girl. "Wait a little while, and your
turn will come. I believe that to-day I can read the future like a
prophetess. But let us see if Nebsecht lies there, and is still asleep.
The draught I put into the wine must have been strong."

"It was," answered Nefert, following her into the hut.

The physician was still lying on the bed, and sleeping with his mouth
wide open. Uarda knelt down by his side, looked in his face, and said:

"He is clever and knows everything, but how silly he looks now! I will
wake him."

She pulled a blade of grass out of the heap on which he was lying, and
saucily tickled his nose.

Nebsecht raised himself, sneezed, but fell back asleep again; Uarda
laughed out with her clear silvery tones. Then she blushed--"That is not
right," she said, "for he is good and generous."

She took the sleeper's hand, pressed it to her li