tent they had contrived for her. The soldier's knees trembled while he
held the light burden of his daughter's weight in his strong hands, and
he sighed when he laid her down on the mat.

"How blue the sky is!" cried Uarda. "Ah! grandfather has watered my
pomegranate, I thought so! and there come my doves! give me some corn in
my hand, grandmother. How pleased they are."

The graceful birds, with black rings round their reddish-grey necks, flew
confidingly to her, and took the corn that she playfully laid between her
lips.

Nebsecht looked on with astonishment at this pretty play. He felt as if
a new world had opened to him, and some new sense, hitherto unknown to
him, had been revealed to him within his breast. He silently sat down in
front of the but, and drew the picture of a rose on the sand with a reed-
stem that he picked up.

Perfect stillness was around him; the doves even had flown up, and
settled on the roof. Presently the dog barked, steps approached; Uarda
lifted herself up and said:

"Grandmother, it is the priest Pentaur."

"Who told you?" asked the old woman.

"I know it," answered the girl decidedly, and in a few moments a sonorous
voice cried: "Good day to you. How is your invalid?"

Pentaur was soon standing by Uarda; pleased to hear Nebsecht's good