But Siptah protested that the Hathors had revealed at sunrise the happiness in store for him, and that the choice of each single blossom proved his assertion.

Several young courtiers who were walking in front of their chariots, surrounded them and joined in the laughter and merry conversation, in which the vivacious wife of the chief priest shared, having left her large travelling-chariot to be carried in a litter.

None of these things escaped Joshua’s notice and, as he saw Kasana, who a short time before had thought of the prince with aversion, now saucily tap his hand with her fan, his brow darkened and he asked himself whether the young widow was not carelessly trifling with his misery.

But the prisoners’ chief warder had now noticed the locks on Siptah’s temples, which marked him as a prince of the royal household and his loud “Hail!  Hall!” in which the other guards and the captives joined, was heard by Kasana and her companions.  They looked toward the tamarisk-bushes, whence the cry proceeded, and Joshua saw the young widow turn pale and then point with a hasty gesture to the convicts.  She must undoubtedly have given Siptah some command, for the latter at first shrugged his shoulders disapprovingly then, after a somewhat lengthy discussion, half grave, half jesting, he sprang from the chariot and beckoned to the chief gaoler.

“Have these men,” he called from the road so loudly that Kasana could not fail to hear, “seen the face of the good god, the lord of both worlds?” And when he received a reluctant answer, he went on arrogantly: 

“No matter!  At least they beheld mine and that of the fairest of women, and if they hope for favor on that account they are right.  You know who I am.  Let the chains that bind them together be removed.”  Then, beckoning to the man, he whispered: 

“But keep your eyes open all the wider; I have no liking for the fellow beside the bush, the ex-chief Hosea.  After returning home, report to me and bring news of this man.  The quieter he has become, the deeper my hand will sink in my purse.  Do you understand?”

The warder bowed, thinking:  “I’ll take care, my prince, and also see that no one attempts to take the life of any of my moles.  The greater the rank of these gentlemen, the more bloody and strange are their requests!  How many have come to me with similar ones.  He releases the poor wretches’ feet, and wants me to burden my soul with a shameful murder.  Siptah has tried the wrong man!  Here, Heter, bring the bag of tools and open the moles’ chains.”

While the files were grating on the sand-hill by the road and the prisoners were being released from the fetters on their ancles,—­though for the sake of security each man’s arms were bound together,—­Pharaoh’s host marched by.

Kasana had commanded Prince Siptah to release from their iron burden the unfortunates who were being dragged to a life of misery, openly confessing that she could not bear to see a chief who had so often been a guest of her house so cruelly humiliated.  Bai’s wife had supported her wish, and the prince was obliged to yield.