“The auctioneer asked for a bid.  All were silent, for the dumb shadow was of no use for work; she was half-dead, and a burial costs money.

“So passed several minutes.  Then the auctioneer stepped up to her, and gave her a blow with his whip, that she might rouse herself up, and appear less miserable to the buyers.  She shivered like a person in a fever, pressed the child closer to her, and looked round at every one as though seeking for help—­and me full in the face.  What happened now was a real wonder, for her eyes were bigger than any that I ever saw, and a demon dwelt in them that had power over me and ruled me to the end, and that day it bewitched me for the first time.

“It was not hot and I had drunk nothing, and yet I acted against my own will and better judgment when, as her eyes fell upon me, I bid all that I possessed in order to buy her.  I might have had her cheaper!  My companions laughed at me, the auctioneer shrugged his shoulders as he took my money, but I took the child on my arm, helped the woman up, carried her in a boat over the Nile, loaded a stone-cart with my miserable property, and drove her like a block of lime home to the old people.

“My mother shook her head, and my father looked as if he thought me mad; but neither of them said a word.  They made up a bed for her, and on my spare nights I built that ruined thing hard by—­it was a tidy hut once.  Soon my mother grew fond of the child.  It was quite small, and we called it Pennu—­[Pennu is the name for the mouse in old Egyptian]—­because it was so pretty, like a little mouse.  I kept away from the foreign quarter, and saved my wages, and bought a goat, which lived in front of our door when I took the woman to her own hut.

“She was dumb, but not deaf, only she did not understand our language; but the demon in her eyes spoke for her and understood what I said.  She comprehended everything, and could say everything with her eyes; but best of all she knew how to thank one.  No high-priest who at the great hill festival praises the Gods in long hymns for their gifts can return thanks so earnestly with his lips as she with her dumb eyes.  And when she wished to pray, then it seemed as though the demon in her look was mightier than ever.

“At first I used to be impatient enough when she leaned so feebly against the wall, or when the child cried and disturbed my sleep; but she had only to look up, and the demon pressed my heart together and persuaded me that the crying was really a song.  Pennu cried more sweetly too than other children, and he had such soft, white, pretty little fingers.

“One day he had been crying for a long time, At last I bent down over him, and was going to scold him, but he seized me by the beard.  It was pretty to see!  Afterwards he was for ever wanting to pull me about, and his mother noticed that that pleased me, for when I brought home anything good, an egg or a flower or a cake, she used to hold him up and place his little hands on my beard.