"Aye, it should, my Prince, but it did not. Kenkenes sent it to the
Pharaoh, with a petition for his own freedom, but the cares of state
were so pressing that the Son of Ptah gave the letter, unopened, to
Har-hat for attention."
Rameses laughed harshly.
"Kenkenes would better content himself. The Hathors are against him," he cried. "Was there ever such consummate misfortune? What more?"
"Is it not enough, O Rameses?" Hotep answered sternly. "He hath suffered sufficiently. Now is it time for them, who profess to love him, to bestir themselves in his behalf. Thou knowest how near the fan-bearer is to the Pharaoh. Persuasion can not reach the king that worketh against Har-hat. Thou alone art as potent with the Son of Ptah. Wilt thou not prove thy love for Kenkenes and aid him?"
Rameses did not answer immediately. Thoughtfully he leaned his elbow on his knee and stroked his forehead with his hand. His black brows knitted finally.
"My hands are tied, Hotep," he began bluntly. "I permit the sway of this knave over my father because I am constrained. Till he begins to achieve confusion or bring about bad government I must let him alone. There is no love between us. We have no quarrel, but I despise him for that very spirit in him which makes him do such things as thou hast even told me. If his offense had been against Egypt or the king or myself, I could balk him. But this is a matter of personal interest to him, which would be open and flagrant interference—"
Hotep broke in earnestly.
"Surely so small a matter of courtesy—if such it may be called—should not stand between thee and this most pressing need."
"Aye, thou hast said—if it were only a small matter of courtesy. But
the breach of that same small courtesy entails great disaster for me.
Thou knowest, O my Hotep, that I am betrothed to the daughter of
Har-hat."
With great effort Hotep kept a placid face.