An evil thought came into my mind, sent by Set. Suppose that this watcher's eyes were fixed upon the eagle, lord of the air. Suppose that she worshipped this eagle; that she loved it because its home was heaven, because to her it was the king of all the birds. And suppose one told her that if she lured it down to earth from the glorious safety of the skies, she would bring it to captivity or death at the hand of the snarer. Then would not that loving watcher say: "Let it go free and happy, however much I long to look upon it," and when it had sailed from sight, perhaps turn her eyes to the humble ibis in the mud?
Jabez had told me that if this woman and the Prince grew dear to each other she would bring great sorrow on his head. If I repeated his words to her, she who had faith in the prophecies of her people would certainly believe them. Moreover, whatever her heart might prompt, being so high-natured, never would she consent to do what might bring trouble on Seti's head, even if to refuse him should sink her soul in sorrow. Nor would she return to the Hebrews there to fall into the hands of one she hated. Then perhaps I----. Should I tell her? If Jabez had not meant that the matter must be brought to her ears, would he have spoken of it at all? In short was it not my duty to her, and perhaps also to the Prince who thereby might be saved from miseries to come, that is if this talk of future troubles were anything more than an idle story.
Such was the evil reasoning with which Set assailed my spirit. How Ibeat it down I do not know. Not by my own goodness, I am sure, since at the moment I was aflame with love for the sweet and beautiful lady who sat before me and in my foolishness would, I think, have given my life to kiss her hand. Not altogether for her sake either, since passion is very selfish. No, I believe it was because the love that Ibore the Prince was more deep and real than that which I could feel for any woman, and I knew well that were she not in my sight no such treachery would have overcome my heart. For I was sure, although he had never said so to me, that Seti loved Merapi and above all earthly things desired her as his companion, while if once I spoke those words, whatever my own gain or loss and whatever her secret wish, that she would never be.
So I conquered, though the victory left me trembling like a child, and wishing that I had not been born to know the pangs of love denied. My reward was very swift, for just then Merapi unfastened a gem from the breast of her white robe and held it towards the moon, as though to study it. In an instant I knew it again. It was that royal scarab of lapis-lazuli with which in Goshen the Prince had made fast the bandage on her wounded food, which also had been snatched from her breast by some power on that night when the statue of Amon was shattered in the temple.
Long and earnestly she looked at it, then having glanced round to make sure she was alone, she pressed it to her lips and kissed it thrice with passion, muttering I know not what between the kisses. Now the scales fell from my eyes and I knew that she loved Seti, and oh! how Ithanked my guardian god who had saved me from such useless shame.
I wiped the cold damp from my brow and was about to flee away, discovering myself with as few words as might be, when, looking up, Isaw standing behind Merapi the figure of a man, who was watching her replace the ornament in her robe. While I hesitated a moment the man spoke and I knew the voice for that of Seti. Then again I thought of flight, but being somewhat timid by nature, feared to show myself until it was too late, thinking that afterward the Prince would make me the target of his wit. So I sat close and still, hearing and seeing all despite myself.
"What gem is that, Lady, which you admire and cherish so tenderly?"asked Seti in his slow voice that so often hid a hint of laughter.
She uttered a little scream and springing up, saw him.
"Oh! my lord," she exclaimed, "pardon your servant. I was sitting here in the cool, as you gave me leave to do, and the moon was so bright--that--I wished to be see if by it I could read the writing on this scarab."Never before, thought I to myself, did I know one who read with her lips, though it is true that first she used her eyes.
"And could you, Lady? Will you suffer me to try?"Very slowly and colouring, so that even the moonlight showed her blushes, she withdrew the ornament again and held it towards him.
"Surely this is familiar to me? Have I not seen it before?" he asked.
"Perhaps. I wore it that night in the temple, your Highness.""You must not name me Highness, Lady. I have no longer any rank in Egypt.""I know--because of--my people. Oh! it was noble.""But about the scarab?us----" he broke in, with a wave of his hand.
"Surely it is the same with which the bandage was made fast upon your hurt--oh! years ago?""Yes, it is the same," she answered, looking down.
"I thought it. And when I gave it to you, I said some words that seemed to me well spoken at the time. What were they? I cannot remember. Have you also forgotten?""Yes--I mean--no. You said that now I had all Egypt beneath my foot, speaking of the royal cartouche upon the scarab.""Ah! I recall. How true, and yet how false the jest, or prophecy.""How can anything be both true and false, Prince?""That I could prove to you very easily, but it would take an hour or more, so it shall be for another time. This scarab is a poor thing, give it back to me and you shall have a better. Or would you choose this signet? As I am no longer Prince of Egypt it is useless to me.""Keep the scarab, Prince. It is your own. But I will not take the ring because it is----""----useless to me, and you would not have that which is without value to the giver. Oh! I string words ill, but they were not what I meant.""No, Prince, because your royal ring is too large for one so small.""How can you tell until you have tried? Also that is a fault which might perhaps be mended."Then he laughed, and she laughed also, but as yet she did not take the ring.