Then, his cheeks reddening with a little shame at his impulsiveness, he
examined the scarab. The cord by which it had been suspended passed
through a small gold ring between the claws of the beetle. This had
worn very thin and some slight wrench had broken it.
"Ah!" he exclaimed aloud. "It is even as I had thought. But let me
not seem to boast when I tell my father of it. It will be victory
enough for me to display the jewel, and abashment enough for him to
know he was wrong."
He ceased to speak, but the echoes talked on after him. He shivered,
caught up his light and raced through the sumptuous tomb into the world
again.
It was near dawn and the skies were pallid. He was hungry and weary
but most impatient to be gone. He would repair to Thebes and break his
fast. Thereafter he would procure the swiftest boat on the Nile and
take his rest while speeding toward Memphis.
The inn of the necropolis was like an immense dwelling, except that the
courts were stable-yards. The doors, opening off the porch, were
always open and a light burned by night within the chamber. So long
and so murkily had it burnt, that the chamber Kenkenes entered was
smoky and redolent of it. Aside from a high, bench-like table, running
half the length of the rear wall, there was nothing else in the room.
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