Her tone was soft and earnest; her assurances were spoken so confidently, her interest was so genuine, that a queer and unaccountable satisfaction possessed the young artist at once.

At this moment the runaway water-bearers came in sight and in obedience to very evident dismissal in the Israelite’s eyes, Kenkenes bade her farewell and left her.

But he had not gone two paces before she overtook him.

“Approach thy work from various directions,” she cautioned, “else thou wilt wear a path which may spy on thee one day.”

The moment the words passed her lips, Kenkenes, who still held the collar, put it about her neck, passing his hands under the thick plaits, and snapped the clasp accurately.

The act was done instantly, and with but a single movement.  He was gone, laughing on his way, before she had realized what he had done.

There was revel in the young man’s veins that evening, but the great house of his father was silent and lonely.  If he would find a companion he must leave its heavy walls.  His resolution was not long in making nor his instinct slow in directing him.  An hour after the evening meal, when he entered the chariot that waited, he had laid aside the simple tunic, and in festal attire was, every inch of his many inches, the son of the king’s favorite artist.  His charioteer drove in the direction of the nomarch’s house.

The portress conducted him into the faintly lighted chamber of guests and went forth silently.  Kenkenes interpreted her behavior at once.

“There is another guest,” he thought with a smile, “and I can name him as promptly as any chanting sorcerer might.”  When the serving woman returned she bade him follow her and led the way to the house-top.

There, under the subdued light of a single lamp, was the Lady Ta-meri; at her feet, Nechutes.

“I should wear the symbol-broidered robe of a soothsayer,” the sculptor told himself.

“You made a longer sojourn of your visit to Tape than you had intended,” the lady said, after the greetings.

“Nay, I have been in Memphis twenty days at least.”

“So?” queried Nechutes.  “Where dost thou keep thyself?”

“In the garb of labor among the ink-pots and papyri of the sculptor class,” the lady answered.  “I warrant there are pigment marks on his fingers even now.”

Kenkenes extended his long right hand to her for inspection.  She received it across her pink palm and scrutinized it laughingly.

“Nay, I take it back.  Here is naught but henna and a suspicion of attar.  He has been idle these days.”

“Hast thou forgotten the efficacy of the lemon in the removal of stains?” the sculptor asked with a smile.

The lady frowned.

“Give us thy news from Tape, then,” she demanded, putting his hand away.

“The court is coming to Memphis sooner.  That is all.  O, aye, I had well-nigh forgot.  There is also talk of a marriage between Rameses and Ta-user.”