“She is not thinking of her king but of her lover’s life,” said Bakenkhonsu.  “She is not a witch as they declare, but it is true that she knows what we do not.”

“Yes,” I answered, “it is true.”

CHAPTER XVII

THE DREAM OF MERAPI

A while went by; it may have been fourteen days, during which we heard that the Israelites had started on their journey.  They were a mighty multitude who bore with them the coffin and the mummy of their prophet, a man of their blood, Vizier, it is reported, to that Pharaoh who welcomed them to Egypt hundreds of years before.  Some said they went this way and some that, but Bakenkhonsu, who knew everything, declared that they were heading for the Lake of Crocodiles, which others name Sea of Reeds, whereby they would cross into the desert beyond, and thence to Syria.  I asked him how, seeing that at its narrowest part, this lake was six thousand paces in width, and that the depth of its mud was unfathomable.  He replied that he did not know, but that I might do well to inquire of the lady Merapi.

“So you have changed your mind, and also think her a witch,” I said, to which he answered: 

“One must breathe the wind that blows, and Egypt is so full of witchcraft that it is difficult to say.  Also it was she and no other who destroyed the ancient statue of Amon.  Oh! yes, witch or no witch, it might be well to ask her how her people purpose to cross the Sea of Reeds, especially if Pharaoh’s chariots chance to be behind them.”

So I did ask her, but she answered that she knew nothing of the matter, and wished to know nothing, seeing that she had separated from her people, and remained in Egypt.

Then Ki came, I know not whence, and having made his peace with Seti as to the dressing of Merapi in the robes of Isis which, he vowed, was done by the priests against his wish, told us that Pharaoh and a great host had started to pursue the Israelites.  The Prince asked him why he had not gone with the host, to which he replied that he was no soldier, also that Pharaoh hid his face from him.  In return he asked the Prince why he had not gone.

Seti answered, because had been deprived of his command with his other officers and had no wish to take share in this business as a private citizen.

“You are wise, as always, Prince,” said Ki.

It was on the following night, very late, while the Prince, Ki, Bakenkhonsu and I, Ana, sat talking, that suddenly the lady Merapi broke in upon us as she had risen from her bed, wild-eyed, and with her hair flowing down her robes.