“Good,” said Abi contemptuously.  “The divine Pharaoh was ever a woman in such matters, as in others.  Let him be thankful that he has generals who know how to make war and to cut off the heads of his enemies in defence of the kingdom.  We will wait upon him to-morrow.”

“Lord,” added the captain, “that is not all Pharaoh’s message.  He says that it has been reported to him that you are accompanied by a guard of three hundred soldiers.  These soldiers he refuses to allow within the gates.  He directs that you shall appear before his Majesty attended by five persons only.”

“Indeed,” answered Abi with a scornful laugh.  “Does Pharaoh fear, then, lest I should capture him and his armies and the great city with three hundred soldiers?”

“No, Prince,” answered the captain bluntly; “but I think he fears lest you should kill him and declare yourself Pharaoh as next in blood.”

“Ah!” said Abi, “as next of blood.  Then I suppose that there are still no children at the Court?”

“None, O Prince.  I saw Ahura, the royal wife, the Lady of the Two Lands, that fairest of women, and other lesser wives and beautiful slave girls without number, but never a one of them had an infant on her breast or at her knee.  Pharaoh remains childless.”

“Ah!” said Abi again.  Then he walked forward out of the pavilion whereof the curtains were drawn back, and stood a while upon the prow of the vessel.

By now night had fallen, and the great moon, rising from the earth as it were, poured her flood of silver light over the desert, the mountains, the limitless city of Thebes, and the wide rippling bosom of the Nile.  The pylons and obelisks, glittering with copper and with gold, towered to the tender sky.  In the window places of palaces and of ten thousand homes lamps shone like stars.  From gardens, streets and the courts of temples floated the faint sound of singing and of music, while on the great embattled walls the watchmen called the hour from post to post.

It was a wondrous scene, and the heart of Abi swelled as he gazed upon it.  What wealth lay yonder, and what power.  There was the glorious house of his brother, Pharaoh, the god in human form who for all his godship had never a child to follow after him when he ascended to Osiris, as he who was sickly probably must do before so very long.

Yes, but before then a miracle might happen; in this way or in that a successor to the throne might be found and acknowledged, for were not Pharaoh and his House beloved by all the priests of Amen, and by the people, and was not he, Abi, feared and disliked because he was fierce, and the hated savage blood flowed in his veins?  Oh! what evil god had put it in his father’s heart to give him a princess of the Hyksos for a mother, the Hyksos, whom the Egyptians loathed, when he had the fairest women of the world from whom to choose?  Well, it was done and could not be undone, though because of it he might lose his heritage of the greatest throne in all the earth.  Also was it not to this fierce Hyksos blood that he owed his strength and vigour?