CHAPTER XII.
THE CROWN OF KAMT
Hugh needed much of my skill when we got back to the palace that night and were rid of our attendants, safe in our own privacy. The strain must have been terrible for him to bear. His constitution was a veritable bundle of nerves; these had been strained almost to breaking, both in his fight with Ur-tasen and during the awful moment when, for the sake of a principle, he stained his hand with the blood of a fellow-creature.
As soon as we were alone I went up to him and grasped that hand with all the warmth and affection which my admiration for him commanded, and I felt strangely moved when, in response, I saw in his great dark eyes a soft look of tenderness and of gratitude. He knew I had understood him, and I think he was satisfied. Gently, as a sick child, he allowed me to attend to him; fortunately, through the many vicissitudes which ultimately brought us to this wondrous land, I had never discarded my small, compact, portable medicine-chest, and I soon found a remedy for the poor, tired-out aching nerves.
“There now, that’s better, isn’t it, Girlie?” I said when he was at last lying, quietly and comfortably, on the couch, and there was less unnatural brilliancy in his eyes.
“You are awfully good to me, Mark, old chap,” he said. “I am ashamed to have broken down so completely. You will think that I deserve more than ever my old schoolboy nickname.”
“Yes! Sawnie Girlie you are,” I said with a laugh, “and Sawnie Girlie you have ever proved yourself—particularly lately. But now I forbid you to talk—most emphatically—and command you to go to sleep. I will not have you ill, remember. Where should I be without you?”
“Oh, I shall be all right. Don’t worry about me, old chap, and I assure you that I have every intention of going to sleep, particularly if you will do ditto. But, Mark, is it not strange how the mysterious personality of Neit-akrit seems to haunt every corner of this land?”
“That old Ur-tasen seems to me, somehow, to play a double game, and I am positively shocked at so old and venerable a personage getting so enthusiastic over the beauty of a girl young enough to be his granddaughter. I call him a regular old rip.”
“She certainly seems to have the power to arouse what is basest in every woman, be she queen like my bride, or slave like poor Kesh-ta, to make fools of men and cowards of the Pharaoh and his priest.”
“I think that after all your queen may have had the best idea: a woman who has so much power is best put out of harm’s way. There are no nunneries in this pagan land, but you had best accede to Queen Maat-kha’s wish, and command Princess Neit-akrit to become the priestess of some god.”