"What for?" inquired Tafet. "She is well, my dear chick she needs only rest. But Egyptian physicians would bring real sickness."
The prince did not look at the talkative woman.
"This was my pleasantest month with thee," said Sarah, nestling up to
Ramses, "but it has not brought happiness."
The trumpets sounded on the royal barge, repeating a signal given higher up on the river.
Sarah started.
"Dost Thou hear, lord, that terrible outburst? Thou hearest and smilest, and, woe to me, Thou art tearing away from my embraces. When trumpets call nothing can hold thee, least of all thy slave, Sarah."
"Wouldst them have me listen forever to the cackling of hens in the country?" interrupted the prince, now impatient. "Be well, and wait for me joyously."
Sarah let him go from her grasp, but she had such a mournful expression that Ramses grew mild and stroked her.
"Only be calm. Thou fearest the sound of our trumpets. But were they ill-omened the first day?"
"My lord," answered Sarah, "I know that over there they will keep thee, so grant me this one, this last favor. I will give thee," continued she, sobbing, "a cage of pigeons. They were hatched out and reared here; hence, as often as Thou rememberest thy servant, open the cage and set one of them free; it will bring me tidings of thee, and I will kiss and fondle it as as But go now!"