messengers reach Shabaka, sent by Peroa and you O holy Tanofir; they
tell of trouble in Egypt. I see Shabaka and the dwarf coming north at
the head of a great army of black men armed with bows. With them I
come rejoicing, for my heart seems to shine. He reaches a temple on
the Nile about which is camped another great army, a countless army of
Easterns under the command of the King of kings. Shabaka and the dwarf
give battle to that army and the fray is desperate. They destroy it,
they drive it into the Nile; the Nile runs red with blood. The Great
King falls, an arrow from the bow of Shabaka is in his heart. He
enters the temple, a conqueror, and there lies Peroa, dying or dead. A
veiled priestess is there before an image, I cannot see her face.
Shabaka looks on her. She stretches out her arms to him, her eyes burn
with woman's love, her breast heaves, and above the image frowns and
threatens. All is done, for Tanofir, Master of spirits, you die,
yonder in the temple on the Nile, and therefore I can see no more. The
power that comes through you, has left me."

Then once more she became as a woman asleep.

"You have heard, Shabaka and Bes," said Tanofir quietly and stroking
his long white beard, "and what that maiden seemed to read in the
water you may believe or disbelieve as you will."

"What do you believe, O holy Tanofir?" I asked.

"The only part of the story whereof I am sure," he replied, evading a
direct answer, "is that which said that I shall die, and that when I
am dead I shall no longer be able to cause the maiden Karema to see
visions. For the rest I do not know. These things may happen or they
may not. But," he added with a note of warning in his voice, "whether