Bent-Anat, and the faster his heart beat from time to time when he
thought of his meeting with the king. On the whole he was full of
cheerful confidence, which he felt to be folly, and which nevertheless he
could not repress.

Ameni had often blamed him for his too great diffidence and his want of
ambition, when he had willingly let others pass him by. He remembered
this now, and smiled and understood himself less than ever, for though he
resolutely repeated to himself a hundred times that he was a low-born,
poor, and excommunicated priest, the feeling would not be smothered that
he had a right to claim Bent-Anat for his own.

And if the king refused him his daughter--if he made him pay for his
audacity with his life?

Not an eyelash, he well knew, would tremble under the blow of the axe,
and he would die content; for that which she had granted him was his, and
no God could take it from him!