I could see that Hugh, like myself, was much amused by her strange persistence and her sudden change of tactics. She was evidently bent on gaining this point, having apparently lost the other, for she put forth before him all the charms and artifices which a woman, loved or loving, alone knows how to use. It was getting very dark, and in the east a faint streak of greyish light heralded the rise of the moon, but in the semi-darkness I could see the beautiful Queen’s eyes fixed with a truly magnetic look upon Hugh, while she half-offered, half-pleaded for a kiss. I think it would have required a very adamantine or very worn-out old heart to resist such charming pleading, or refuse so flattering a request, and I doubt not but that in spite of her earlier, decidedly unpleasant, tactics Hugh was ready enough to yield and promise all she asked, but unfortunately at this moment the poetic little scene was suddenly interrupted by a fanfare of metal trumpets, and from a distance we heard the cry:
“Make way for the messenger of Princess Neit-akrit!”
Even in the darkness I could see that Queen Maat-kha had become very pale, and a dark frown appeared between her eyes.
“Thou hast not yet promised,” she whispered hurriedly. “Promise, my beloved, promise.”
“Make way for the messenger of Princess Neit-akrit!”
The sound of the trumpets, the repeated cries, drowned the words in Hugh’s mouth.
“Promise thou wilt not go,” she entreated for the last time; “promise thou wilt not leave my side!”
But it was too late, for the trumpets now sounded quite close in the garden, and preceded by some of the Queen’s servants, a messenger, in shining tunic and silver helmet, with winged sandals on his feet—an emblem of his speed—was rapidly approaching towards us. Impatiently Maat-kha turned to him.
“What dost thou want?” she said imperiously. “Who has given thee leave to intrude on the presence of thy Queen? Thou deservedst a whipping at the hands of my slaves for thy daring impudence.”
The messenger, however, seemed well accustomed to this inhospitable greeting, or in any case was very indifferent to it, for he knelt down and kissed the ground, then rising again, he quietly waited until the flood of the lady’s wrath had passed over his head. Then he began, solemnly: