"Shall I forget that thou hast trusted me, or am I permitted to consider
further as to thy son's safety?" Katuti stood for a moment undecided,
then she said:

"You were clever enough to find what I carelessly dropped; perhaps some
God may show you what I ought to do. Now leave me."

"Wilt thou want me early to-morrow?"

"No."

"Then I will go to the Necropolis, and offer a sacrifice."

"Go!" said Katuti, and went towards the house with the fatal letter in
her hand.

Nemu stayed behind alone; he looked thoughtfully at the ground, murmuring
to himself.

"She must not lose her honor; not at present, or indeed all will be
lost. What is this honor? We all come into the world without it,
and most of us go to the grave without knowing it, and very good folks
notwithstanding. Only a few who are rich and idle weave it in with the
homely stuff of their souls, as the Kuschites do their hair with grease
and oils, till it forms a cap of which, though it disfigures them, they
are so proud that they would rather have their ears cut off than the
monstrous thing. I see, I see--but before I open my mouth I will go to
my mother. She knows more than twenty prophets."