pleased him, and his Majesty’s heart was delighted with me.”  All this is pure hyperbole, but no one was surprised at it in Egypt; etiquette required that a faithful subject should declare the favours of his sovereign to be something new and unprecedented, even when they presented nothing extraordinary or out of the common.  Gifts of sepulchral furniture were of frequent occurrence, and we know of more than one instance of them previous to the VIth dynasty—­for example, the case of the physician Sokhit-nionkhu, whose tomb still exists at Saqqara, and whom Pharaoh Sahuri rewarded by presenting him with a monumental stele in stone from Turah.  Henceforth Uni could face without apprehension the future which awaited him in the other world; at the same time, he continued to make his way no less quickly in this, and was soon afterwards promoted to the rank of “sole friend” and superintendent of the irrigated lands of the king.  The “sole friends” were closely attached to the person of their master.  In all ceremonies, their appointed place was immediately behind him, a place of the highest honour and trust, for those who occupied it literally held his life in their hands.  They made all the arrangements for his processions and journeys, and saw that the proper ceremonial was everywhere observed, and that no accident was allowed to interrupt the progress of his train.  Lastly, they had to take care that none of the nobles ever departed from the precise position to which his birth or office entitled him.  This was a task which required a great deal of tact, for questions of precedence gave rise to nearly as many heart-burnings in Egypt as in modern courts.  Uni acquitted himself so dexterously, that he was called upon to act in a still more delicate capacity.  Queen Amitsi was the king’s chief consort.  Whether she had dabbled in some intrigue of the palace, or had been guilty of unfaithfulness in act or in intention, or had been mixed up in one of those feminine dramas which so frequently disturb the peace of harems, we do not know.  At any rate, Papi considered it necessary to proceed against her, and appointed Uni to judge the case.  Aided only by his secretary, he drew up the indictment and decided the action so discreetly, that to this day we do not know of what crime Amitsi was accused or how the matter ended.  Uni felt great pride at having been preferred before all others for this affair, and not without reason, “for,” says he, “my duties were to superintend the royal forests, and never before me had a man in my position been initiated into the secrets of the Royal Harem; but his Majesty initiated me into them because my wisdom pleased his Majesty more than that of any other of his lieges, more than that of any other of his mamelukes, more than that of any other of his servants.”  These antecedents did not seem calculated to mark out Uni as a future minister of war; but in the East, when a man has given proofs of his ability in one branch of administration,