before her mind, terrifying, fantastic visions in all of which the
fat and hideous Abi played a part. Thus she saw again the scene at her
father's fatal feast to the Priest of Kesh, when Asti by her magic had
caused the likeness of a monkey to come from the juggler's vase. Only
now it was Abi who emerged from the vase, a terrible Abi, with a red
sword in his hand, and Pharaoh's crown upon his head. He leapt from the
mouth of the vase, he devoured her with his greedy eyes, with stealthy
steps he came to seize her, and she could not stir an inch, something
held her fast upon her throne.

She could bear it no more--she opened her eyes, stared at the darkness,
and out of the darkness came voices, telling of death and war. She
thrust her fingers into her ears, and tried to fix her thoughts on
Rames, that bright-eyed, light-footed lover of hers, whom she so longed
to see again, without whom she was so lonely and undefended.

"Where was Rames?" she wondered. "What fate had overtaken him? Something in
her seemed to answer--Death. Oh! if Rames were dead, what should she do?
Of what use was it to be Queen of Egypt, the first woman in the world,
if Rames were dead?"

Loneliness, insufferable loneliness seemed to get a hold of her. She
slipped from her bed, and through the doorway of her little pylon
chamber. Now she was upon the narrow stair, and in face of her was that
other chamber where Asti slept. Someone was talking with her! Perhaps
Mermes was with his wife, and if so she could not enter. No, it was
Asti's voice, and, listening, she could hear her murmuring prayers or
invocations in solemn tones. She pushed open the door and entered. A
little lamp burned in the room, and by its feeble light she saw the
white-robed Asti, whose long hair fell about her, standing with upturned