"Now she is standing up," said Rameri, and he dropped the paper-lantern
which he had bought at a booth. "Step back, Bent-Anat, she must be
expecting some one. Did you ever see any one so very fair, and with such
a pretty little head. Even her red hair becomes her wonderfully; but
she staggers as she stands--she must be very weak. Now she has sat down
again by the old man, and is rubbing his forehead. Poor souls! look how
she is sobbing. I will throw my purse over to them."

"No, no!" exclaimed Bent-Anat. "I gave them plenty of money, and the
tears which are shed there cannot be staunched with gold. I will send
old Asnath over to-morrow to ask how we can help them. Look, here comes
the procession, Nefert. How rudely the people press! As soon as the God
is gone by we will go home."

"Pray do," said Nefert. "I am so frightened!" and she pressed trembling
to the side of the princess.

"I wish we were at home, too," replied Bent-Anat.

"Only look!" said Rameri. "There they are. Is it not splendid? And
how the heart shines, as if it were a star!"

All the crowd, and with them our three friends, fell on their knees.

The procession paused opposite to them, as it did at every thousand
paces; a herald came forward, and glorified, in a loud voice, the great
miracle, to which now another was added--the sacred heart since the night
had come on had begun to give out light.

Since his return home from the embalming house, the paraschites had taken