Kaku began to whisper into Abi’s ear, and there was fear in the eyes of both of them.  He pointed with his finger at two stars, which of a sudden shone out through the green haze above the sunset glow, and then turned and looked at the Queen, urging his master eagerly.  At last Abi spoke.

“Ra is set,” he said.  “Come, let us make an end of all this folly.”

“Not yet,” answered Tua quietly, “not yet awhile.”

As she said the words, of a sudden, as though at a given signal, all the long lines of palm trees that grew in the rich gardens upon the river banks were seen to bow themselves towards the east, as though they did obeisance to the Queen upon her throne.  Thrice they bowed thus, without a wind, and then were straight and still once more.  Next the clouds rushed together as though a black pall had been drawn across the heavens, only in the west the half-hidden globe of the sun shone on through an opening in them, shone like a great and furious eye.  By slow degrees it sank, till nothing was left save a little rim of fire.  All the hall grew dark, and through the darkness Neter-Tua could be heard calling on the name of Amen.

“Ra is dead!” shouted a voice.  “Have done, Bastard, Ra is dead!”

“Aye,” she answered in a cold triumphant cry, “but Amen lives.  Behold his sword, ye Traitors!”

As the words left her lips the heavens were cleft in twain by a fearful flash of lightning, and in it the people saw that once again the palm-trees bowed themselves, this time almost to the ground.  Then with a roar the winds were loosed, and beneath their feet the solid earth began to heave as though a giant lifted it.  Thrice it heaved like a heaving wave, and the third time through the thick cover of the darkness there rose a shriek of terror and of agony followed by the awful crash of falling stones.

Now the whole sky seemed to melt in fire, and in that fierce light was seen Tua, Star of Amen, seated on her throne, holding her sceptre to the heavens, and laughing in triumphant merriment.  Well might she laugh, for the two great obelisks without the gate that the old Hyksos lion had set up there to stand “to all eternity,” had fallen across the low pylons and the doors and crushed them.  On to the heads of those who watched beneath they had fallen, shattering in their fall and carrying death to hundreds.  Beneath the electrum cap of one of them that had been hurled from it in its descent right into the circle of the priests, lay a shapeless mass.  It was that man who had mocked the Queen and turned faint beneath her gaze.

Through the western ruin of the hall those who were left alive within it fled out, a maddened mob, trampling each other to death by scores, fighting furiously to escape the vengeance of Amen and his daughter.  Within the enclosure the priests lay prostrate on their faces, each praying to his god for mercy.  In front of the throne, upon his knees, the royal crown shaken from his head, Abi grasped the feet of Neter-Tua and screamed to her to forgive and spare him, whilst above, shining like fire, That which sat upon the throne pointed with her sceptre at the ruin and the rout, and laughed and laughed again.