“And how dare you, Pambasa, keep this learned man waiting at my door like a dog?  Rise, Ana, and cease from giving me titles, for we are not at Court.  Tell me, how long have you been in Tanis?”

“Many days, O Prince,” I answered, “seeking your presence and in vain.”

“And how did you win it at last?”

“By payment, O Prince,” I answered innocently, “as it seems is usual.  The doorkeepers——­”

“I understand,” said Seti, “the doorkeepers!  Pambasa, you will ascertain what amount this learned scribe has disbursed to ‘the doorkeepers’ and refund him double.  Begone now and see to the matter.”

So Pambasa went, casting a piteous look at me out of the corner of his eye.

“Tell me,” said Seti when he was gone, “you who must be wise in your fashion, why does a Court always breed thieves?”

“I suppose for the same reason, O Prince, that a dog’s back breeds fleas.  Fleas must live, and there is the dog.”

“True,” he answered, “and these palace fleas are not paid enough.  If ever I have power I will see to it.  They shall be fewer but better fed.  Now, Ana, be seated.  I know you though you do not know me, and already I have learned to love you through your writings.  Tell me of yourself.”

So I told him all my simple tale, to which he listened without a word, and then asked me why I had come to see him.  I replied that it was because he had sent for me, which he had forgotten; also because I brought him a story that I had dared to dedicate to him.  Then I laid the roll before him on the table.

“I am honoured,” he said in a pleased voice, “I am greatly honoured.  If I like it well, your story shall go to the tomb with me for my Ka to read and re-read until the day of resurrection, though first I will study it in the flesh.  Do you know this city of Tanis, Ana?”

I answered that I knew little of it, who had spent my time here haunting the doors of his Highness.

“Then with your leave I will be your guide through it this night, and afterwards we will sup and talk.”

I bowed and he clapped his hands, whereon a servant appeared, not Pambasa, but another.

“Bring two cloaks,” said the Prince, “I go abroad with the scribe, Ana.  Let a guard of four Nubians, no more, follow us, but at a distance and disguised.  Let them wait at the private entrance.”

The man bowed and departed swiftly.

Almost immediately a black slave appeared with two long hooded cloaks, such as camel-drivers wear, which he helped us to put on.  Then, taking a lamp, he led us from the room through a doorway opposite to that by which I had entered, down passages and a narrow stair that ended in a courtyard.  Crossing this we came to a wall, great and thick, in which were double doors sheathed with copper that opened mysteriously at our approach.  Outside of these doors stood four tall men, also wrapped in cloaks, who seemed to take no note of us.  Still, looking back when we had gone a little way, I observed that they were following us, as though by chance.