“Poor Amen-het,” she said sweetly, “I spoke to him once or twice. He was a clever sculptor.”
“But was too presumptuous, as thou sayest,” said Hugh, who seemed suddenly to have grown irritable. “I saw him before he was quite ready to stand before Osiris. His flesh had withered on his bones, his voice was choked within his throat, burning hunger and thirst had made a beast of him, and the carrion had begun to gnaw his living flesh.”
“Poor Amen-het,” she repeated, and she selected a large juicy date from the dish, and, holding it between her tiny sharp teeth, she called to her white panther, and the graceful, feline creature, as quiet as a kitten, took the ripe fruit from between her dainty lips.
I could see that Hugh was strangely irritated. He remained silent during the rest of the feast, in spite of the fact that the Queen made every effort to rouse him from his silence. As usual, the Pharaoh reclined, surly and silent, on his couch, which had been covered with a cloth of gold; obedient to my suggestion, he was taking only milk and left all the delicious fruit untasted. He avoided looking at the Princess or at Hugh; only when the story of Amen-het had been recounted, he laughed satirically to himself.
Long after every one had retired and the fairy palace was wrapped in sleep, Hugh and I wandered beneath the gigantic overhanging fuchsia trees. It was a beautiful night and we were both singularly wakeful. The lake lay peaceful in the moonlight and, descending the great steps to the foot of the sphinxes, we found a small boat moored close to our hand. Though the crescent-shaped little crafts are very difficult to manage at first, we enjoyed a row all round the beautiful island, which seemed like the enchanted domain of a fairy princess. Beneath the trees large white peacocks slept, their tails shimmering like streams of diamonds, while in the branches myriads of birds had built their nests. We disturbed a troop of white gazelles from their sleep in the tall grass and a family of marmosets in the branches of the doum; golden tench and carp swam all round our boat, not the least frightened at the clap of the oars, and opening their mouths for a crumb.
We did not speak much, and then only about the beautiful dumb objects round us. I must confess that a strange love for this picturesque land was beginning to entwine itself round my heart, and as our boat glided so peacefully between the large clumps of lotus and water-lilies, I liked to feel that all this beauty, this peace, this poetry was truly my own. Busy Europe, with its politics, its squabbles, its socialism, its trades-unions and workingmen’s clubs, seemed altogether another world now, different and unreal; even the old Chestnuts was becoming a dream, beside the glorious visions of marble terraces and alabaster halls which had become so real.
For once in my life I was not in complete harmony with Hugh. I wanted to talk of our journey, our poetic arrival, of our fair young hostess, with her large innocent eyes and her pet white panther; but he seemed moody, and I felt that my enthusiasm for beautiful Neit-akrit would not find an echo in his heart.
The first streak of dawn was visible in the east when we reached the palace steps again, tired yet refreshed with the midnight trip on the lake.
Our sandals made no noise on the white marble steps, and we kept in the shadow of the parapet, for we had no wish to be mistaken for midnight prowlers and rouse the slaves who guarded the palace.
All the lights had been put out, only the gilt roof glittered beneath the sinking rays of the moon. We skirted the palace, for the rooms which had been assigned to us opened out on to the broad terrace overlooking a garden of white roses. We were about to cross the garden, when suddenly Hugh put a hand on my arm and pointed to the terrace. Between the pillars which formed the entrance to our bedroom a figure stood holding back the heavy curtain. We could only see the graceful outline, clear and sharp against the bright light which burned within.