thick darkness, and now in a sweet, low voice it spoke.

"Hail! Queen of Egypt," it said. "Hail! Neter-Tua, Daughter of Amen. Art
thou afraid to look on the spirit of her who bore thee, thou that didst
dare to summon the Father of the gods to do thy bidding?"

"I am afraid," answered Tua, shaking in all her limbs.

"And thou, Asti the Magician, art thou afraid also, who but now wast
bold enough to cry to Amen-Ra--'Come from thy high heaven and make
answer'?"

"It is even so, O Queen Ahura," murmured Asti.

"Woman," went on the voice, "thy sin is great, and great is the sin of
this royal one at thy side. Had Amen hearkened, how would the two of you
have stood before his glory, who at the sight of this shape of mine that
once was mortal like yourselves, crouch choking to the earth? I tell
you both that had the god arisen, as in your wickedness ye willed,
there where ye knelt, there ye would have died. But he who knows all is
merciful, and in his place has sent me his messenger that ye may live to
look upon to-morrow's sun."

"Let Amen pardon us!" gasped Tua, "it was my sin, O Mother, for I
commanded Asti and she obeyed me. On me be the blame, not on her, for I
am torn with doubts and fears, for myself and for another. I would know
the future."

"Why, O Queen Neter-Tua, why wouldst thou know the future? If hell yawns
beneath thy feet, why wouldst thou peep through its golden doors before