He turned away and faced Nechutes, bending before him; behind the
cup-bearer, a stately stranger--Kenkenes.
"A message for thee, O Son of Ptah," Nechutes said.
At a sign from the king, the messenger came forward, knelt and
delivered the scroll. The king looked at the writing on the wrapping.
"From whom dost thou bring this?" he asked.
"From Jambres, the mystic, O Son of Ptah."
"Ah!" It was the tone of one who has his surmises proved. "Now, what
is contained herein?"
Kenkenes took it that the inquiry called for an answer.
"A warning, O King."
"How dost thou know?"
"The purport of the message was told me ere I departed."
"Wherefore? It is not common to lead the messenger into the secret he
bears."
"I know, O Son of Ptah," Kenkenes replied quietly; "but the messenger
who knew its contents would suffer not disaster or death to stay him in
carrying it to thee."
As if to delay the reading of it, the king dismissed Nechutes and
signed Kenkenes to arise. Then he turned the scroll over and over in
his hands, inspecting it.
"Age does not cool the fever of retaliation," he said thoughtfully,
"and this ancient Jambres hath a grudge against me. Come," he
exclaimed as if an idea had struck him, "do thou open it.
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