It was the sculptor's turn to be amazed. But with one of the instant realizations that acute memory effects, he recalled that he had disappeared immediately after Nechutes had been accepted by the Lady Ta-meri. And now, by the word of the apologetic cup-bearer, was it made apparent to Kenkenes that a tragic fancy concerning the cause of his disappearance had taken root in the cup-bearer's mind. With a desperate effort, Kenkenes choked the first desire to laugh that had seized him in months.
"Nay, let it pass, Nechutes," he said in a strained voice. "Thou and I are friends. But lead me to the king, I pray thee."
"To the king?" the cup-bearer repeated doubtfully. "The king sleeps.
Will thine interests go to wreck if thou bidest till dawn?"
"I carry him a message," Kenkenes explained.
"A message!"
"Even so. Hand hither a torch."
A soldier went and returned with a flaming knot of pitch. In the wavering light of the flambeau, Nechutes read the address on the linen scroll.
"The king could not read by the night-lights," he said after a little. "Much weeping is not helpful to such feeble eyes as his. Wait till dawn. My tent is empty and my bed is soft. Wait till daybreak as my guest."
"Where is Har-hat?"
"In his tent, yonder," pointing to a party-colored pavilion.