“Since it is your will, Brother, that I should talk secrets into other ears than yours, I obey you.  Still”—­here she looked at me wrathfully—­“let the tongue be careful that it does not repeat what the ears have heard, lest there should be neither ears nor tongue.  My Brother, it has been reported to Pharaoh, while we ate together, that there is tumult in this town.  It has been reported to him that because of a trouble about some base Israelite you caused one of his officers to be beheaded, after which there came a riot which still rages.”

“Strange that truth should have come to the ears of Pharaoh so quickly.  Now, my Sister, if he had heard it three moons hence I could have believed you—­almost.”

“Then you did behead the officer?”

“Yes, I beheaded him about two hours ago.”

“Pharaoh will demand an account of the matter.”

“Pharaoh,” answered Seti lifting his eyes, “has no power to question the justice of the Governor of Tanis in the north.”

“You are in error, Seti.  Pharaoh has all power.”

“Nay, Sister, Pharaoh is but one man among millions of other men, and though he speaks it is their spirit which bends his tongue, while above that spirit is a great greater spirit who decrees what they shall think to ends of which we know nothing.”

“I do not understand, Seti.”

“I never thought you would, Userti, but when you have leisure, ask Ana here to explain the matter to you.  I am sure that he understands.”

“Oh!  I have borne enough,” exclaimed Userti rising.  “Hearken to the command of Pharaoh, Prince Seti.  It is that you wait upon him to-morrow in full council, at an hour before noon, there to talk with him of this question of the Israelitish slaves and the officer whom it has pleased you to kill.  I came to speak other words to you also, but as they were for your private ear, these can bide a more fitting opportunity.  Farewell, my Brother.”

“What, are you going so soon, Sister?  I wished to tell you the story about those Israelites, and especially of the maid whose name is—­what was her name, Ana?”

“Merapi, Moon of Israel, Prince,” I added with a groan.

“About the maid called Merapi, Moon of Israel, I think the sweetest that ever I have looked upon, whose father the dead captain murdered in my sight.”

“So there is a woman in the business?  Well, I guessed it.”

“In what business is there not a woman, Userti, even in that of a message from Pharaoh.  Pambasa, Pambasa, escort the Princess and summon her servants, women everyone of them, unless my senses mock me.  Good-night to you, O Sister and Lady of the Two Lands, and forgive me—­that coronet of yours is somewhat awry.”

At last she was gone and I rose, wiping my brow with a corner of my robe, and looking at the Prince who stood before the fire laughing softly.

“Make a note of all this talk, Ana,” he said; “there is more in it than meets the ear.”