'It can be naught but this,' said Asenath, 'my father hath sent a messenger saying that he is returning from his country estate, having taken tale of the harvest, for the king hath decreed that Jusef, the first ruler, shall require a toll of all in this the first year of plenty.'
'Jusef, the prime ruler,' said Ashtar, 'he will come here? Then we shall see him. They say he is as beautiful as a god.'
'They say, girl? Who say?'
'The songs,' stammered Ashtar, crestfallen, 'the—the songs of love.'
'Silence, wayward one! Thou art bemused by the poets. This Jusef is a mere man like other men; was he not the son of a shepherd? Was he not a runaway? Was he not sold as a slave? Was he not cast by his master, and for some good reason, into a dungeon?'
'Yea, O my adored mistress, but was he not liberated by Pharaoh?'
'Yes, because he interpreted Pharaoh's dreams, just as any old Egyptian woman might do. Pouf! Thou art bemused!'
Then Ashtar sat in silence, gazing out at the deep blue sky. Why had this Jusef's interpretation of dreams raised him to the king's favour while that of the old Egyptian women had been unheeded? Was it because he was, as the singers sang, as beautiful as a god and possessed the spirit of a god? Ashtar could not tell. Beneath the haughty frown of Asenath she sat dumb. Then, with a sigh, she sank upon her cushions, her lips trembling.
'Ashtar is bemused,' whispered the other damsels one to another. 'Could the like happen to us?' And Asenath, catching their words, cried, 'Ashtar is a fool! Who but a fool would ever think such thoughts or speak such words?' Then, as a great sound of voices struck upon her ear, she turned again to the window. 'See! See!' she exclaimed, 'a great cavalcade is approaching the gates. There at the head is my father, and—who is that beside him? What are the people crying?—"Jusef, the Prince of God!" Ah! How proudly he sits his white charger, and how brave his equipments—how splendid his retinue! say you, Ashtar, that this is the second to Pharaoh?'
