"
She laughed a cool little laugh.
"Deliver to him but the price he names, and the Israelitish unrest will
settle like a swarm of smoked bees."
"Ta-user, it is thou that art deceived," Seti remonstrated. "Even the
Pharaoh does not hesitate to assert that Mesu is terribly upright. Not
even he would dream of offering the wizard Hebrew a peace-tribute."
Once again she laughed. "Mind me, I speak reverently of the divine
Meneptah, the Shedder of Light, but I do not marvel that he is no more
willing to deliver over to Mesu one color of gold than another."
Seti looked at her with a puzzled expression. Gazing down into his
eyes, she said with sudden solemnity:
"My Prince, may I give my life into thy hands?"
Impulsively he pressed her hand to his lips.
"The gods overtake me with their vengeance if I guard it not," he
exclaimed.
She drew him from his place on the parapet and led him to a seat in a
corner near the double towers. There she sat, and he dropped down at
her feet. He crossed his arms over her lap and lifted his face to her.
For a moment she was silent, contemplating the young countenance. What
were the thoughts that came to her then? Did she applaud or rebuke
herself? Did she pity or despise him?
Is there more of evil than of good wrought by the mind working silently?
Seti was ripe to be plucked by treachery.
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