the fate of this their ancient home on earth. Yes, I felt them about me; or at the least I felt a spirit stirring.
The company at the table drank no more wine and ceased from speech. They sat still staring in front of them and notwithstanding the glitter of the ornaments that proclaimed their royalty or rule, to me they were as dead men in a tomb. Only the Princess of Egypt, Amenartas, seemed to be alive and outside the circle of this doom, for I noted that her splendid eyes sought the face, the perfect, carven face of the priest Kallikrates and that though he stood with folded arms and gaze fixed upon the ground, he knew it, for now and again covertly he glanced back at her.
At length one of those guests could bear no more, and spoke. He was a close-lipped, war-worn Grecian general who afterward I learned was named Kleinios of Cos, the commander of Pharaoh’s mercenary forces.
By Zeus!
he cried, are we men or are we stones, or are we shades in Hades? Let these diviners divine and have done, for I would get me to my wine again.
Aye,
broke in Tenes, King of Sidon. Bid them divine, Pharaoh, since we have much to agree upon ere I sail at dawn.
Then all the company cried, Divine! Divine!
save Amenartas only, who searched the face of Kallikrates with her eyes, as though she would learn what lay behind its cold and priestly mask.
So be it,
said Noot, but first I pray Pharaoh to bid all mean men depart.
Pharaoh waved his sceptre and the butlers and attendants bowed and went. Then Noot motioned to Kallikrates, who thereon shook the sistrum that
