“You should be scourged,” repeated Amada stamping her foot.  “My Uncle, I pray you cause this knave to be scourged.”

“Nay, nay,” said Peroa moodily.  “Poor simple man, he knew no better and thought only to sing your praises in a far land.  Be not angry with the dwarf, Niece.  Had it been Shabaka who gave your name, the thing would be different.  What happened next, Bes?”

“Only this, Prince,” said Bes, looking upwards and rolling his eyes, as was his fashion when unloading some great lie from his heart.  “The King sent his servants to bring my master from the boat, that he might inquire of him whether he had always found me truthful.  For, Prince, those Easterns set much store by truth which here in Egypt is worshipped as a goddess.  There they do not worship her because she lives in the heart of every man, and some women.”

Now all stared at Bes who continued to stare at the ceiling, and I rose to say something, I know not what, when suddenly the doors opened and through them appeared heralds, crying,

“Hearken, Peroa, Prince of Egypt by grace of the Great King.  A message from the Great King.  Read and obey, O Peroa, Prince of Egypt by grace of the Great King!”

As they cried thus from between them emerged a man whose long Eastern robes were stained with the dust of travel.  Advancing without salute he drew out a roll, touched his forehead with it, bowing deeply, and handed it to the prince, saying,

“Kiss the Word.  Read the Word.  Obey the Word, O servant of our Master, the King of kings, beneath whose feet we are all but dust.”

Peroa took the roll, made a semblance of lifting it to his forehead, opened and read it.  As he did so I saw the veins swell upon his neck and his eyes flash, but he only said,

“O Messenger, to-night I feast, to-morrow an answer shall be given to you to convey to the Satrap Idernes.  My servants will find you food and lodging.  You are dismissed.”

“Let the answer be given early lest you also should be dismissed, O Peroa,” said the man with insolence.

Then he turned his back upon the prince, as one does on an inferior, and walked away, accompanied by the herald.

When they were gone and the doors had been shut, Peroa spoke in a voice that was thick with fury, saying,

“Hearken, all of you, to the words of the writing.”

Then he read it.

 “From the King of kings, the Ruler of all the earth, to Peroa, one
  of his servants in the Satrapy of Egypt,

“Deliver over to my servant Idernes without delay, the person of Amada, a lady of the blood of the old Pharaohs of Egypt, who is your relative and in your guardianship, that she may be numbered among the women of my house.”

Now all present looked at each other, while Amada stood as though she had been frozen into stone.  Before she could speak, Peroa went on,