Kenkenes smiled, for Mentu had been a widower these ten Nile floods.
The slave still lingered.
"Also is there a messenger for thee, master," she said, bowing again.
"So? Let him enter."
The man whom the slave ushered in a few minutes later was old, spare and bent, but he was alert and restless. His eyes were brilliant and over them arched eyebrows that were almost white. He made a jerky obeisance.
"Greeting, son of Mentu. Dost thou remember me?"
The young man looked at his visitor for a moment.
"I remember," he said at last. "Thou art Ranas, courier to Snofru, priest of On. Greeting and welcome to Memphis. Enter and be seated."
"Many thanks, but mine errand is urgent. I have been a guest of my son, who abideth just without Memphis, and this morning a messenger came to my son's door. He had been sent by Snofru to Tape, but had fallen ill on the river between On and Memphis. As it happened, the house of my son was the nearest, and thither he came, in fever and beyond traveling another rod. As the message he bore concerned the priesthood, I went to Asar-Mut and I am come from him to thee. He bids thee prepare for a journey before presenting thyself to him, at the temple."
Kenkenes frowned in some perplexity.