It hinted of imprisonment.
Turning as though pursued, he disappeared up an acacia tree from which
he could not be dislodged. With a vexed exclamation, Kenkenes passed
out of the court into the house, slamming the swinging door so sharply
that it sprang open again after him. As the old portress put back the
outer doors leading into the street, that her young master might go
forth, a shadow quick as thought slipped out after him. The old
portress clapped her hands with a shrill command but the shadow was
gone.
Once more in his work-day dress, his wallet of tools and provisions
across his shoulder, the young sculptor passed toward the Nile, moody
and unhappy but determined. At the river-side he hired the shallow
bari that had given him faithful service for so long, and receiving the
oars from Sepet, the boatman, prepared to push away. At that moment,
Anubis, tremulous but unrepentant, bounded in beside him.
"Anubis!" Kenkenes exclaimed. "Of a truth I believe thou art possessed
of the arts of magic. Now, if thou art lost in the hills and devoured
by a wolf, upon thine own head be it. Pull in that paw, before thou
becomest a foolish sacrifice to the sacred crocodile. I wonder thy
self-respect does not keep thee from coming when thou art unwelcome.
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