The soldier nodded.
"Look to it that she is put to light labor," the sculptor continued, gazing loftily down into the narrow eyes. The soldier squared off and inspected the nobleman. It did not take him long to acknowledge the young sculptor's right to command.
"It does not pay to be tender with an Israelite," the man answered sourly.
Kenkenes thrust his hand into the folds of his tunic over his breast and, drawing forth a number of golden rings strung on a cord, jingled them musically.
The soldier grinned.
"That will coax a man out of his dearest prejudice. I will put her over the children."
Kenkenes dropped the money into the man's palm.
"I shall have an eye to thee," he said warningly. "Cheat me not."
He went his way. The incident restored to him the power of speech.
"Now, by Horus," he began, "am I to be denied by an Israelite that which the favoring Hathors designed I should have? Not while the arts of strategy abide within me. The children, I take it, will come here with the water," he cogitated, stamping upon the wet and deserted ledge which he had reached, "and here will she be, also."