Then he watched her go, and turning to me, said: 

“To-day, Ana, I have lost both a crown and a wife, yet strange to tell I do not know which of these calamities grieves me least.  Yet it is time that fortune turned.  Or mayhap all the evils are not done.  Would you not go also, Ana?  Although she gibes at you in her anger, the Princess thinks well of you, and would keep you in her service.  Remember, whoever falls in Egypt, she will be great till the last.”

“Oh!  Prince,” I answered, “have I not borne enough to-day that you must add insult to my load, you with whom I broke the cup and swore the oath?”

“What!” he laughed.  “Is there one in Egypt who remembers oaths to his own loss?  I thank you, Ana,” and taking my hand he pressed it.

At that moment the door opened, and old Pambasa entered, saying: 

“The Hebrew woman, Merapi, would see you; also two Hebrew men.”

“Admit them,” said Seti.  “Note, Ana, how yonder old time-server turns his face from the setting sun.  This morning even it would have been ’to see your Highness,’ uttered with bows so low that his beard swept the floor.  Now it is ‘to see you’ and not so much as an inclination of the head in common courtesy.  This, moreover, from one who has robbed me year by year and grown fat on bribes.  It is the first of many bitter lessons, or rather the second—­that of her Highness was the first; I pray that I may learn them with humility.”

While he mused thus and, having no comfort to offer, I listened sad at heart, Merapi entered, and a moment after her the wide-eyed messenger whom we had seen in Pharaoh’s Court, and her uncle Jabez the cunning merchant.  She bowed low to Seti, and smiled at me.  Then the other two appeared, and with small salutation the messenger began to speak.

“You know my demand, Prince,” he said.  “It is that this woman should be returned to her people.  Jabez, her uncle, will lead her away.”

“And you know my answer, Israelite,” answered Seti.  “It is that I have no power over the coming or the going of the lady Merapi, or at least wish to claim none.  Address yourself to her.”

“What is it you wish with me, Priest?” asked Merapi quickly.

“That you should return to the town of Goshen, daughter of Nathan.  Have you no ears to hear?”

“I hear, but if I return, what will you of me?”

“That you who have proved yourself a prophetess by your deeds in yonder temple should dedicate your powers to the service of your people, receiving in return full forgiveness for the evils you have wrought against them, which we swear to you in the name of God.”

“I am no prophetess, and I have wrought no evils against my people, Priest.  I have only saved them from the evil of murdering one who has shown himself their friend, even as I hear to the laying down of his crown for their sake.”

“That is for the Fathers of Israel and not for you to judge, woman.  Your answer?”