LITMIR.BIZ

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cried the head groom. “Paaker never forgets an injury, and we shall live to see him pay Mena—high as he is—for the affront he has offered him.

      “My lady Katuti,” interrupted Nemu, “stores up the arrears of her son-in-law.”

      “Besides, she has long wished to renew the old friendship with your house, and the Regent too preaches peace. Give me a piece of bread, steward. I am hungry!”

      “The sacks, into which Mena’s arrears flow seem to be empty,” laughed the cook.

      “Empty! empty! much like your wit!” answered the dwarf. “Give me a bit of roast meat, steward; and you slaves bring me a drink of beer.”

      “You just now said your maw was no bigger than a fly’s head,” cried the cook, “and now you devour meat like the crocodiles in the sacred tank of Seeland. You must come from a world of upside-down, where the men are as small as flies, and the flies as big as the giants of the past.”

      “Yet, I might be much bigger,” mumbled the dwarf while he munched on unconcernedly, “perhaps as big as your spite which grudges me the third bit of meat, which the steward—may Zefa bless him with great possessions—is cutting out of the back of the antelope.”

      “There, take it, you glutton, but let out your girdle,” said the steward laughing, “I had cut the slice for myself, and admire your sharp nose.”

      “All noses,” said the dwarf, “they teach the knowing better than any haruspex what is inside a man.”

      “How is that?” cried the gardener.

      “Only try to display your wisdom,” laughed the steward; “for, if you want to talk, you must at last leave off eating.”

      “The two may be combined,” said the dwarf. “Listen then! A hooked nose, which I compare to a vulture’s beak, is never found together with a submissive spirit. Think of the Pharaoh and all his haughty race. The Regent, on the contrary, has a straight, well-shaped, medium-sized nose, like the statue of Amon in the temple, and he is an upright soul, and as good as the Gods. He is neither overbearing nor submissive beyond just what is right; he holds neither with the great nor yet with the mean, but with men of our stamp. There’s the king for us!”

      “A king of noses!” exclaimed the cook, “I prefer the eagle Rameses. But what do you say to the nose of your mistress Nefert?”

      “It is delicate and slender and moves with every thought like the leaves of flowers in a breath of wind, and her heart is exactly like it.”

      “And Paaker?” asked the head groom.

      “He has a large short nose with wide open nostrils. When Seth whirls up the sand, and a grain of it flies up his nose, he waxes angry—so it is Paaker’s nose, and that only, which is answerable for all your blue bruises. His mother Setchem, the sister of my lady Katuti, has a little roundish soft—”

      “You pigmy,” cried the steward interrupting the speaker, “we have fed you and let you abuse people to your heart’s content, but if you wag your sharp tongue against our mistress, I will take you by the girdle and fling you to the sky, so that the stars may remain sticking to your crooked hump.”

      At these words the dwarf rose, turned to go, and said indifferently: “I would pick the stars carefully off my back, and send you the finest of the planets in return for your juicy bit of roast. But here come the chariots. Farewell! my lords, when the vulture’s beak seizes one of you and carries you off to the war in Syria, remember the words of the little Nemu who knows men and noses.”

      The pioneer’s chariot rattled through the high gates into the court of his house, the dogs in their leashes howled joyfully, the head groom hastened towards Paaker and took the reins in his charge, the steward accompanied him, and the head cook retired into the kitchen to make ready a fresh meal for his master.

      Before Paaker had reached the garden-gate, from the pylon of the enormous temple of Amon, was heard first the far-sounding clang of hard-struck plates of brass, and then the many-voiced chant of a solemn hymn.

      The Mohar stood still, looked up to heaven, called to his servants—“The divine star Sothis is risen!” threw himself on the earth, and lifted his wards the star in prayer.

      The slaves and officers immediately followed his example.

      No circumstance in nature remained unobserved by the priestly guides of the Egyptian people. Every phenomenon on earth or in the starry heavens was greeted by them as the manifestation of a divinity, and they surrounded the life of the inhabitants of the Nile-valley—from morning to evening—from the beginning of the inundation to the days of drought—with a web of chants and sacrifices, of processions and festivals, which inseparably knit the human individual to the Divinity and its earthly representatives the priesthood.

      For many minutes the lord and his servants remained on their knees in silence, their eyes fixed on the sacred star, and listening to the pious chant of the priests.

      As it died away Paaker rose. All around him still lay on the earth; only one naked figure, strongly lighted by the clear moonlight, stood motionless by a pillar near the slaves’ quarters.

      The pioneer gave a sign, the attendants rose; but Paaker went with hasty steps to the man who had disdained the act of devotion, which he had so earnestly performed, and cried:

      “Steward, a hundred strokes on the soles of the feet of this scoffer.”

      The officer thus addressed bowed and said: “My lord, the surgeon commanded the mat-weaver not to move and he cannot lift his arm. He is suffering great pain. Thou didst break his collar-bone yesterday.

      “It served him right!” said Paaker, raising his voice so much that the injured man could not fail to hear it. Then he turned his back upon him, and entered the garden; here he called the chief butler, and said: “Give the slaves beer for their night draught—to all of them, and plenty.”

      A few minutes later he stood before his mother, whom he found on the roof of the house, which was decorated with leafy plants, just as she gave her two-years’-old grand daughter, the child of her youngest son, into the arms of her nurse, that she might take her to bed.

      Paaker greeted the worthy matron with reverence. She was a woman of a friendly, homely aspect; several little dogs were fawning at her feet. Her son put aside the leaping favorites of the widow, whom they amused through many long hours of loneliness, and turned to take the child in his arms from those of the attendant. But the little one struggled with such loud cries, and could not be pacified, that Paaker set it down on the ground, and involuntarily exclaimed:

      “The naughty little thing!”

      “She has been sweet and good the whole afternoon,” said his mother Setchem. “She sees you so seldom.”

      “May be,” replied Paaker; “still I know this—the dogs love me, but no child will come to me.”

      “You have such hard hands.”

      “Take the squalling brat away,” said Paaker to the nurse. “Mother, I want to speak to you.”

      Setchem quieted the child, gave it many kisses, and sent it to bed; then she went up to her son, stroked his cheeks, and said:

      “If the little one were your own, she would go to you at once, and teach you that a child is the greatest blessing which the Gods bestow on us mortals.” Paaker smiled and said: “I know what you are aiming at—but leave it for the present, for I have something important to communicate to you.”

      “Well?” asked Setchem.

      “To-day for the first time since—you know when, I have spoken to Nefert. The past may be forgotten. You long for your sister; go to her, I have nothing more to say against it.”

      Setchem looked at her son with undisguised astonishment; her eyes which easily filled with tears, now overflowed, and she hesitatingly asked: “Can I believe my ears; child, have you?—”

      “I

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