“Splendid!  Oh! it was ten times more than splendid.  It was as though the god Osiris were once more wed to the goddess Isis in the very halls of heaven.  Indeed his Highness, the bridegroom, was dressed as a god, yes, he wore the robes and the holy ornaments of Amon.  And the procession!  And the feast that Pharaoh gave!  I tell you that the Prince was so overcome with joy and all this weight of glory that, before it was over, looking at him I saw that his eyes were closed, being dazzled by the gleam of gold and jewels and the loveliness of his royal bride.  He told me that it was so himself, fearing perhaps lest I should have thought that he was asleep.  Then there were the presents, something to everyone of us according to his degree.  I got—­well it matters not.  And, learned Ana, I did not forget you.  Knowing well that everything would be gone before you returned I spoke your name in the ear of his Highness, offering to keep your gift.”

“Indeed, Pambasa, and what did he say?”

“He said that he was keeping it himself.  When I stared wondering what it might be, for I saw nothing on him, he added, ‘It is here,’ and touched the private signet guard that he has always worn, an ancient ring of gold, but of no great value I should say, with ’Beloved of Thoth and of the King’ cut upon it.  It seems that he must take it off to make room for another and much finer ring which her Highness has given him.”

Now, by this time, the ass having been unloaded by the slaves and led away, we had passed through the hall where many were idling as ever, and were come to the private apartments of the palace.

“This way,” said Pambasa.  “The orders are that I am to take you to the Prince wherever he may be, and just now he is seated in the great apartment with her Highness, where they have been receiving homage and deputations from distant cities.  The last left about half an hour ago.”

“First I will prepare myself, worthy Pambasa,” I began.

“No, no, the orders are instant, I dare not disobey them.  Enter,” and with a courtly flourish he drew a rich curtain.

“By Amon,” exclaimed a weary voice which I knew as that of the Prince, “here come more councillors or priests.  Prepare, my sister, prepare!”

“I pray you, Seti,” answered another voice, that of Userti, “to learn to call me by my right name, which is no longer sister.  Nor, indeed, am I your full sister.”

“I crave your pardon,” said Seti.  “Prepare, Royal Wife, prepare!”

By now the curtain was fully drawn and I stood, travel-stained, forlorn and, to tell the truth, trembling a little, for I feared her Highness, in the doorway, hesitating to pass the threshold.  Beyond was a splendid chamber full of light, in the centre of which upon a carven and golden chair, one of two that were set there, sat her Highness magnificently apparelled, faultlessly beautiful and calm.  She was engaged in studying a painted roll, left no doubt by the last deputation, for others similar to it were laid neatly side by side upon a table.