"I crave your pardon," said Seti. "Prepare, Royal Wife, prepare!"

By now the curtain was fully drawn and I stood, travel-stained, forlorn
and, to tell the truth, trembling a little, for I feared her Highness,
in the doorway, hesitating to pass the threshold. Beyond was a splendid
chamber full of light, in the centre of which upon a carven and golden
chair, one of two that were set there, sat her Highness magnificently
apparelled, faultlessly beautiful and calm. She was engaged in studying
a painted roll, left no doubt by the last deputation, for others similar
to it were laid neatly side by side upon a table.

The second chair was empty, for the Prince was walking restlessly up and
down the chamber, his ceremonial robe somewhat disarrayed and the uræus
circlet of gold which he wore, tilted back upon his head, because of his
habit of running his fingers through his brown hair. As I still stood in
the dark shadow, for Pambasa had left me, and thus remained unseen, the
talk went on.

"I am prepared, Husband. Pardon me, it is you who look otherwise. Why
would you dismiss the scribes and the household before the ceremony was
ended?"

"Because they wearied me," said Seti, "with their continual bowing and
praising and formalities."

"In which I saw nothing unusual. Now they must be recalled."

"Let whoever it is enter," he exclaimed.

Then I stepped forward into the light, prostrating myself.