“Bring that wizard back and kill him here,” shouted Janees presently, as the spell passed off them, and like hounds from a leash they sprang forward to do the bidding of the King.

But without the walls they could not find him.  A woman had seen him here, a child had seen him there, some slaves had watched him pass yonder, and ran away because they noted that he had no shadow.  At length, after many a false turn, they tracked him to the southern gate, and there the guard said that just such a beggar-man had passed through as they were about to close the gate, vanishing into the sandstorm which blew without.  They followed, but so thickly blew that sand that they lost each other in their search, and but just before sundown returned to the palace singly, where in his rage the king commanded them to be beaten with rods upon their feet.

Now the darkness came, and at the appointed hour Janees, hardening his heart, went up into the chamber where dwelt Tua and Asti, leaving his guard of eunuchs at the door.  The lamps were lit within that chamber, and the window-places closed, but without the desert wind howled loudly, and the air was blind with sand.  On the farther side of the marble basin, as once before, Tua and Asti stood awaiting him.

“Lady,” he said, “it is the appointed hour, and I seek your answer.”

“King,” replied Tua, “hear me, and for your own sake—­not for mine.  I am more than I seem.  I have friends in the earth and air, did not one of them visit you to-day in yonder court?  Put away this madness and let me be, for I wish you good, not evil, but if you so much as lay a finger on me, then I think that evil draws near, or at the best I die by my own hand.”

“Lady,” replied Janees in a cold voice, “have done with threats; I await your answer.”

“King,” said Tua, “for the last time I plead with you.  You think that I lie to save myself, but it is not so.  I would save you.  Look now,” and she threw back her veil and opened the wrappings about her throat.  “Look at that which is stamped upon my breast, and think—­is it well to offer violence to a woman who bears this holy seal?”

“I have heard of such a one,” said Janees hoarsely, for the sight of her beauty maddened him.  “They say that she was born in Thebes, and of a strange father, though, if so, how came she here?  I am told that she reigns as Pharaoh in Egypt.”

“Ask that question of your oracles, O King, but remember that rumour does not always lie, and let the daughter of that strange father go.”

“There is another who claims to be your father, Lady, if by now my soldiers have not scourged him to his death—­a tattered beggar-man.”

“Whom those soldiers could not touch or find,” broke in Asti, speaking for the first time.

“Well,” went on Janees, without heeding her, “whether your father be a beggar or a god, or even if you are Hathor’s self come down from heaven to be the death of men, know that I take you for my own.  For the third time, answer, will you be my Queen of your own choice, or must my women drown yonder witch in this water at your feet, and drag you hence?”