large rubies shone in it, for eyes. After the priests had embarked, and
the sacred barge had reached the opposite shore, the people pressed into
the boats, which, filled almost to sinking, soon so covered the whole
breadth of the river that there was hardly a spot where the sun was
mirrored in the yellow waters.

"Now I will put on the dress of a gardener," cried Rameri, "and cross
over with the wreaths."

"You will leave us alone?" asked Bent-Anat.

"Do not make me anxious," said Rameri.

"Go then," said the princess. "If my father were here how willingly I
would go too."

"Come with me," cried the boy. "We can easily find a disguise for you
too."

"Folly!" said Bent-Anat; but she looked enquiringly at Nefert, who
shrugged her shoulders, as much as to say: "Your will is my law."

Rameri was too sharp for the glances of the friends to have escaped him,
and he exclaimed eagerly:

"You will come with me, I see you will! Every beggar to-day flings his
flower into the common grave, which contains the black mummy of his
father--and shall the daughter of Rameses, and the wife of the chief
charioteer, be excluded from bringing garlands to their dead?"