"He may be an unclean dog, but he is rich and he feeds me and there is no making broth with your holiness!" the girl answered back insolently, imitating old market women. "It is four months since we have had any flour or grain or beer or oil, it's no joke! We've tightened our belts on the hunger rations, we've got as thin as locusts on the Salty Lakes. A well-fed devil is stronger than a hungry god; other people's Baal may be of avail and our own Ram is meek but not sleek!"
"Ah, you wretch! Do you want to be thrown into the pit?"
"Into the pit? No, sir, that's more than you can do! Times have changed, you can't throw innocent people into the pit nowadays. If you try to lay hands on me I'll run away and you won't catch me! I am a free bird—wherever there is food, there is my home."
"Oh, birds of Araby,
Oh, myrrh anointed!"
she sang, turning the tambourine above her head as she ran towards the staircase. The gazelle followed her like a dog.
At the top of the stairs she ran into Zenra, Dio's old nurse, and nearly knocked her down.
"Plague take you, you giddy goat!" swore the old woman and going up to Dio handed her a letter. Dio opened it and read:
I am going to-morrow. If you want to go with me, make ready. I must see you to-day before sunset. I will wait for you at the White House. I will send a boat for you. May Aton keep you. Your faithful friend,
Tutankhaton.
"The messenger is waiting, what shall I tell him?" Zenra asked.