seemed to cease beating--she closed her eyes as if her anguish of anxiety
was too much for her strength. At last, long after sunrise, the steward
reappeared.

Pale, trembling, hardly able to control his voice, he threw himself on
the ground at her feet crying out:

"Alas! this night! prepare for the worst, mistress! May Isis comfort
thee, who saw thy son fall in the service of his king and father! May
Amon, the great God of Thebes, give thee strength! Our pride, our hope,
thy son is slain, killed by a falling beam."

Pale and still as if frozen, Katuti shed not a tear; for a minute she did
not speak, then she asked in a dull tone:

"And Rameses?"

"The Gods be praised!" answered the servant, "he is safe-rescued by
Mena!"

"And Ani?"

"Burnt!--they found his body disfigured out of all recognition; they knew
him again by the jewels he wore at the banquet."

Katuti gazed into vacancy, and the steward started back as from a mad
woman when, instead of bursting into tears, she clenched her small
jewelled hands, shook her fists in the air, and broke into loud, wild
laughter; then, startled at the sound of her own voice, she suddenly
became silent and fixed her eyes vacantly on the ground. She neither saw