Since there were no children in their house, Senci and the murket spoiled Anubis, and in the eyes of his devoted master the ape had earned his soft life.  Shortly after the departure of Kenkenes Mentu discovered the ape burying something in the sand of the courtyard flower-beds.  In spite of the favorite’s vigorous protests Mentu overturned the tiny heap of earth and discovered therein the lapis-lazuli signet.  There was but one explanation of the ape’s possession of the gem.  He had torn the scarab from about the neck of Unas when he flew in his face, the moment the light went out.  After his nature, he kept the jewel because it was bright.

All these things—­the discovery of the signet in the tomb, the safety of Kenkenes when all the other first-born had died, and the testimony of the miracles to the power of Israel’s God—­made the good murket think deeply.  Indeed, all Egypt thought deeply after the Exodus of Israel, and to such extremes was this sober thinking carried that through very fear many added the name of the Hebrews’ God to the Pantheon.  Mentu did not go so far, because he saw the inconsistency in such procedure, but he shook his head and pondered and was not wholly satisfied with many things in the Osirian creed.

Of the love of Hotep and Masanath something yet remains to be told.  It was common to examine the entire family of a traitor as to their complicity in his misdeeds, and the option lay with the Pharaoh whether or not they should bear some of his punishment.  Har-hat was dead, the army destroyed at his hands.  When the news of the disaster reached Tanis Meneptah’s anger and grief knew no bounds.

After Rameses had been interred at Thebes beside his fathers, and the court had returned to Memphis, the king summoned Masanath, the sole representative of the family of Har-hat, to give reason why she should not be accused of complicity in the treason of her father.

Meneptah had taken counsel with none on this step.  Perhaps he had an inkling that it would be unpopular; perhaps he thought he was but fulfilling the law.  Hotep was at On comforting his family, who mourned over Bettis, and most of the other ministers were scattered over Egypt lamenting their own dead, and few expected the ungallant act of the king.

But one day, when all the court had reassembled, Masanath came into the great council chamber.  Alone and dressed in mourning, she seemed so little and defenseless that Meneptah stirred uncomfortably in his throne.  Slowly she approached the dais and fell on her knees before the king.  The great gathering of courtiers held its breath, wondering and pitying.

Such was the scene upon which Hotep came all unknowing.  At a glance he understood the situation.  It was too much for his well-bridled spirit.  With a cry, full of horror, indignation and compassion, he dropped his writing-case and scroll, and, rushing forward, flung himself on his knees beside her, one arm about her, the other extended in supplication to the Pharaoh.