I had not far to go for, there in the courtyard, standing at the head
of our modest household and dressed in her festal robes, was my
mother, the stately and white-haired lady Tiu, as one stands who
awaits the coming of an honoured guest. I ran to her and kneeling,
kissed her hand, saying,

"My mother! My mother, I have come safe home and greet you."

"I greet you also, my son," she answered, bending down and kissing me
on the brow, "who have been in far lands and passed so many dangers. I
greet you and thank the guardian gods who have brought you safe home
again. Rise, my son."

I rose and kissed her on the face, then looked at the servants who
were bowing their welcome to me, and said,

"How comes it, Lady of the House, that all are gathered here? Did you
await some guest?"

"We awaited you, my son. For an hour have we stood here listening for
the sound of your feet."

"Me!" I exclaimed. "That is strange, seeing that I have ridden fast
and hard from the East, tarrying only a few minutes, and those since I
entered Memphis, when I met----" and I stopped.

"Met whom, Shabaka?"

"The lady Amada walking in the procession of Isis."