She laughed a cool little laugh.

“Deliver to him but the price he names, and the Israelitish unrest will settle like a swarm of smoked bees.”

“Ta-user, it is thou that art deceived,” Seti remonstrated.  “Even the Pharaoh does not hesitate to assert that Mesu is terribly upright.  Not even he would dream of offering the wizard Hebrew a peace-tribute.”

Once again she laughed.  “Mind me, I speak reverently of the divine Meneptah, the Shedder of Light, but I do not marvel that he is no more willing to deliver over to Mesu one color of gold than another.”

Seti looked at her with a puzzled expression.  Gazing down into his eyes, she said with sudden solemnity: 

“My Prince, may I give my life into thy hands?”

Impulsively he pressed her hand to his lips.

“The gods overtake me with their vengeance if I guard it not,” he exclaimed.

She drew him from his place on the parapet and led him to a seat in a corner near the double towers.  There she sat, and he dropped down at her feet.  He crossed his arms over her lap and lifted his face to her.  For a moment she was silent, contemplating the young countenance.  What were the thoughts that came to her then?  Did she applaud or rebuke herself?  Did she pity or despise him?

Is there more of evil than of good wrought by the mind working silently?

Seti was ripe to be plucked by treachery.  His was the faith that is insulted by a suggestion of wariness.

“While I dwelt obscurely in the Hak-heb,” she began, “I was much among the partizans of Amon-meses.  They are friends of the Pharaoh now, so what I tell is dead sedition.  But I heard it when it lived, and thou knowest the penalty invited by him who listens to criticism of the king.  Attend me, then, for the story is short.

“The history of Mesu is an old tale to thee.  Thy noble grandsire’s first queen, Neferari Thermuthis, adopted the Hebrew, and when she died he shared in the allotment of her treasure.  But Mesu was an exile in Midian at the time, and his share was left with Shaemus, then the heir, to be given over to the foster-son when he should return.  But Shaemus died, and all thy father’s older brothers, so the gracious Meneptah came to wear the crown.  To him fell the guardianship of the Hebrew’s treasure till what time he should return out of Midian.  Mesu hath returned.  Hath thy father delivered to him his inheritance?”

Seti’s face flamed, but, before he could speak, she went on.  “Not so; not one copper weight.  It lies untouched in the treasury.  Thine august sire does not use it, because he hath wealth more than he can spend.  But it is the Hebrew’s, and if it were delivered into his hands it would redeem Egypt.  I know it.  There, it is done.  My life is in thy hands.”

The prince looked at her with wide eyes, his cheeks flushed, his lips silent.

“Wouldst thou have proof?” she continued recklessly.  “Seek out Hotep, who hath been keeper of the records at Pithom and ask him.”