“Shameful!” muttered the dwarf.

“Poor, poor Nefert!” cried Katuti, covering her face with her hands.

“And what more?” asked Nemu hastily.

“That,” said Katuti, “that is—­but I will keep calm—­quite calm and quiet.  You know my son.  He is heedless, but he loves me and his sister more than anything in the world.  I, fool as I was, to persuade him to economy, had vividly described our evil plight, and after that disgraceful conduct of Mena he thought of us and of our anxieties.  His share of the booty was small, and could not help us.  His comrades threw dice for the shares they had obtained—­he staked his to win more for us.  He lost—­all—­all—­and at last against an enormous sum, still thinking of us, and only of us, he staked the mummy of his dead father.

[It was a king of the fourth dynasty, named Asychis by Herodotus, who it is admitted was the first to pledge the mummies of his ancestors.  “He who stakes this pledge and fails to redeem the debt shall, after his death, rest neither in his father’s tomb nor in any other, and sepulture shall be denied to his descendants.”  Herod. 11. 136.]

He lost.  If he does not redeem the pledge before the expiration of the third month, he will fall into infamy, the mummy will belong to the winner, and disgrace and ignominy will be my lot and his.”

Katuti pressed her hands on her face, the dwarf muttered to himself, “The gambler and hypocrite!” When his mistress had grown calmer, he said: 

“It is horrible, yet all is not lost.  How much is the debt?”

It sounded like a heavy curse, when Katuti replied, “Thirty Babylonian talents.”—­[L7000 sterling in 1881.]

The dwarf cried out, as if an asp had stung him.  “Who dared to bid against such a mad stake?”

“The Lady Hathor’s son, Antef,” answered Katuti, “who has already gambled away the inheritance of his fathers, in Thebes.”

“He will not remit one grain of wheat of his claim,” cried the dwarf.  “And Mena?”

“How could my son turn to him after what had happened?  The poor child implores me to ask the assistance of the Regent.”

“Of the Regent?” said the dwarf, shaking his big head.  “Impossible!”

“I know, as matters now stand; but his place, his name.”

“Mistress,” said the dwarf, and deep purpose rang in the words, “do not spoil the future for the sake of the present.  If thy son loses his honor under King Rameses, the future King, Ani, may restore it to him.  If the Regent now renders you all an important service, he will regard you as amply paid when our efforts have succeeded, and he sits on the throne.  He lets himself be led by thee now because thou hast no need of his help, and dost seem to work only for his sake, and for his elevation.  As soon as thou hast appealed to him, and he has assisted thee, all thy confidence and freedom will be gone, and the more difficult he finds it to raise so large a sum of money at once, the angrier he will be to think that thou art making use of him.  Thou knowest his circumstances.”