e mountains of
Samaria destroyed the roads, soaked through the tents, and condemned
them frequently to undesirable delays. At Megiddo they were received
with high honors by the commandant of the Egyptian garrison, and they
were compelled to linger here some days, for Nefert, who had been
particularly eager to hurry forward, was taken ill, and Nebsecht was
obliged to forbid her proceeding at this season.

Uarda grew pale and thoughtful, and Bent-Anat saw with anxiety that the
tender roses were fading from the cheeks of her pretty favorite; but
when she questioned her as to what ailed her she gave an evasive answer.
She had never either mentioned Rameri's name before the princess, nor
shown her her mother's jewel, for she felt as if all that had passed
between her and the prince was a secret which did not belong to her
alone. Yet another reason sealed her lips. She was passionately devoted
to Bent-Anat, and she told herself that if the princess heard it all,
she would either blame her brother or laugh at his affection as at
a child's play, and she felt as if in that case she could not love
Rameri's sister any more.

A messenger had been sent on from the first frontier station to the
king's camp to enquire by which road the princess, and her party should
leave Megiddo. But the emissary returned with a short and decided though
affectionate letter written by the king's own hand, to his daughter,
desiring her not to quit Megiddo, which was a safe magazine and arsenal
for the army, strongly fortified and garrisoned, as it commanded
the roads from the sea into North and Central Palestine. Decisive
encounters, he said, were impending, and she knew that the Egyptians
always excluded their wives and daughters from their war train, and
regarded them as the best reward of victory when peace was obtained.

While the ladies were waiting in Megiddo, Pentaur and his red-bearded
guide proceeded northwards with a small mounted escort, with which they
were supplied by the commandant of Hebron.

He himself rode with dignity, though this journey was the first occasion
on which he had sat on horseback. He seemed to have come into the world
with the art of riding born with him. As soon as he had learned from his
companions how to grasp the bridle, and had made himself familiar with
the nature of the horse, it gave him the greatest delight to tame and
subdue a fiery steed.

He had left his priest's robes in Egypt. Here he wore a coat of ma