For a while there was silence, till suddenly a sound was heard in the dark sanctuary where stood the statue of the god, a sound as of a stick tapping upon the granite floor.  Then the curtains of that sanctuary were drawn, and standing between them there appeared the figure of an ancient, bearded man, with stony eyes, who was clad in a beggar’s robe.  It was he who had met Tua and Asti in the wilderness and eaten up their food.  It was he who had saved them in the palace of the desert king.  It was he who but last night had walked the camp of Abi.

“I am that Messenger whom men from the beginning have called Kepher,” he said.  “I am the Dweller in the wilderness whom your fathers knew, and your sons shall know.  I am he who seeks for charity and pays it back in life and death.  I am the pen of Thoth the Recorder, I am the scourge of Osiris.  I am the voice of Amen, god above the gods.  Hearken you people of Egypt—­not for a little end have these things come to pass, but that ye may learn that there is design in heaven, and justice upon earth, and, after justice, judgment.  Pharaoh, the good servant of the gods, was basely murdered by his own kin whom he trusted.  Neter-Tua, his daughter, and daughter of Amen, was condemned to shame, Rames of the royal race was sent forth to danger or to death, far from her he loved, and who loved him by that divine command which rules the hearts of men.  This is the command of the gods—­Let these twain be wed and take Egypt as their heritage, and call down upon it peace and greatness.  But as for these murderers and wizards”—­and he pointed to Abi, to Kaku, and to Merytra—­“let them be placed in the sanctuary of Amen, to await what he shall send them.”

So spoke Kepher the Messenger, and departed whence he came, nor in that generation did any see him more.

Then they took up Abi, Kaku, and Merytra, and cut their bonds.  They threw them into the dark sanctuary before the great stone image of the god.  They shut the electrum doors upon them, and left them there wailing and cursing, while the High-Priest of Amen joined the hands of Rames and of Tua, and declared them to be man and wife for ever.

Now, after these things were done, the Pharaoh and his Queen drove through the hosts of Egypt in their golden chariot, and received the homage of the hosts ere they departed northwards for Thebes.  At nightfall they returned again and sat side by side at the marriage feast, and once more Tua swept her harp of ivory and gold, and sang the ancient song of him who dared much for love, and won the prize.

So in the dim, forgotten years, their joy fell on Rames and on Tua, Morning-Star of Amen, which still with them remains in the new immortal kingdom that they have won long and long ago.

But when in the morning Asti the wise dared to open the great doors and peer into the sanctuary of Amen, she saw a dreadful sight.  For there at the feet of the effigy of the god lay Abi, who slew his brother, and Kaku the sorcerer, and Merytra the traitress, dead, slain by their own or by each other’s hand, and the stony eyes of the god stared down upon them.