nes, across the river to the place they start from. In the harbor of
Thebes, on the other side, the poor wretches were to take leave of their
friends; I have seen it a hundred times, and I never can get used to it,
and yet one can get hardened to most things! Their loud cries, and wild
howls are not the worst--those that scream the most I have always found
are the first to get used to their fate; but the pale ones, whose lips
turn white, and whose teeth chatter as if they were freezing, and whose
eyes stare out into vacancy without any tears--those go to my heart.
There was all the usual misery, both noisy and silent. But the man I was
most sorry for was one I had known for a long time; his name was Huni,
and he belonged to the temple of Amon, where he held the place of
overseer of the attendants on the sacred goat. I had often met him
when I was on duty to watch the laborers who were completing the great
pillared hall, and he was respected by every one, and never failed in
his duty. Once, however, he had neglected it; it was that very night
which you all will remember when the wolves broke into the temple,
and tore the rams, and the sacred heart was laid in the breast of the
prophet Rui. Some one, of course, must be punished, and it fell on poor
Huni, who for his carelessness was condemned to forced labor in the
mines of Mafkat. His successor will keep a sharp look out! No one came
to see him off, though I know he had a wife and several children. He
was as pale as this cloth, and was one of the sort whose grief eats into
their heart. I went up to him, and asked him why no one came with him.
He had taken leave of them at home, he answered, that his children might
not see him mixed up with forgers and murderers. Eight poor little brats
were left unprovided for with their mother, and a little while before a
fire had destroyed everything they possessed. There was not a crumb to
stop their little squalling mouths. He did not tell me all this straight
out; a word fell from him now and then, like dates from a torn sack. I
picked it up bit by bit, and when he saw I felt for him he grew fierce
and said: 'They may send me to the gold mines or cut me to pieces,
as far as I am concerned, but that the little ones should starve
that--that,' and he struck his forehead. Then I left him to say good bye
to Uarda, and on the way I kept repeating to myself 'that-that,' and saw
before me the man and his eight brats. If I were rich, thought I,