[Footnote 1:  Sinuhe, B. 159, 197, 258.]

    [Footnote 2:  Zeit.  Aeg.  Spr., 39 (1901), p. 118.]

The serpent was thus giving the castaway a promise which meant more to him than all the other blessings, and it was with a light heart indeed that he ran down to the beach to greet his countrymen.  “I went down to the shore where the ship was,” he continued, “and I called to the soldiers which were in that ship, and I gave praises upon the shore to the lord of this island, and likewise did they which were in the ship.”

Then he stepped on board, the gangway was drawn up, and, with a great sweep of the oars, the ship passed out on to the open sea.  Standing on deck amongst the new cargo, the officers and their rescued friend bowed low to the great serpent who towered above the trees at the water’s edge, gleaming in the sunshine.  “Fare thee well, little one,” his deep voice rolled across the water; and again they bowed in obeisance to him.  The main-sail was unfurled to the wind, and the vessel scudded bravely across the Great Green Sea; but for some time yet they must have kept their eyes upon the fair shape of the phantom island, as the trees blended into the hills and the hills at last into the haze; and their vision must have been focussed upon that one gleaming point where the golden serpent, alone once more with his memories, watched the ship moving over the fairy seas.

“So sailed we northwards,” said the sailor, “to the place of the Sovereign, and we reached home in two months, in accordance with all that he had said.  And I entered in before the Sovereign, and I brought to him this tribute which I had taken away from within this island.  Then gave he thanksgivings for me before the magistrates of the entire land.  And I was made a ‘Follower,’ and was rewarded with the serfs of such an one.”

The old sailor turned to the gloomy prince as he brought his story to an end.  “Look at me,” he exclaimed, “now that I have reached land, now that I have seen (again in memory) what I have experienced.  Hearken thou to me, for behold, to hearken is good for men.”

But the prince only sighed the more deeply, and, with a despairing gesture, replied:  “Be not (so) superior, my friend!  Doth one give water to a bird on the eve, when it is to be slain on the morrow?” With these words the manuscript abruptly ends, and we are supposed to leave the prince still disconsolate in his cabin, while his friend, unable to cheer him, returns to his duties on deck.

PART III.

RESEARCHES IN THE TREASURY.

“...And he, shall be,

Man, her last work, who seem’d so fair,
Such splendid purpose in his eyes,
Who roll’d the psalm to wintry skies,
Who built him fanes of fruitless prayer,

Who loved, who suffered countless ills,
Who battled for the True, the Just,
Be blown about the desert dust,
Or seal’d within the iron hills?”