Knowing too well the hopelessness of his present position, Renny sought to hide his passion.
Unluckily for the distracted sculptor, his burning hand had come in contact with the tapering fingers of the Princess.
Straightway Renny had thrown himself upon his knees and poured out to her startled ears the torrent of passionate words which had so long trembled upon his lips. Renny lost his head; his discretion vanished to the four winds of Heaven.
Sesen gazed down at the bowed head of the young sculptor in utter bewilderment. She could not have said whether she was more surprised, angered or amused. She clapped her hands twice; she would hand him to the guards. Yet, as the archers appeared from behind the columns of the courtyard, she changed her mind. A sudden wave of tenderest sympathy for Bhanar swept over the Princess. So it was not Bhanar he had sought so eagerly. Her heart ached for the quiet little maid standing so still and mute behind her. She turned to Bhanar:
“So this is that Renny, the Incomparable, of whom thou hast so often spoken, my Bhanar! Dare men so address a Princess of the Blood in thine own country and live? Like master, like man!”
Renny leaped to his feet, his face aflame with various emotions, amongst which wounded pride, perhaps was not the least.
“Lady! Since when is it considered a deed ill-done that a man should speak the love and reverence which he bears a maid? The mirror in thy hand should tell thee that few could look upon a face so fair, a form that Hathor’s self must envy, and not be stricken with that malady which not even the King’s physician hath power to cure! That I love thee I cannot help. My heart beats to thoughts of thee; thy image is stamped upon my very eyes!
“As to my master, the Lord Menna, I serve the Prince from gratitude. He found me well nigh starving in the streets of Thinis and gave me food and shelter. All my work he purchased and put me in the place of Beq, a sculptor whose work is excellent, according to your Egyptian standard. His portrait of thee I myself have much admired.
“Yet, Most Beautiful, ’tis not thee! ’Twould answer as well for any Lady of the Court. Were I to model thee, Fragrance of the Gods, thou shouldst see a living, breathing ‘double’ of thyself, thy very ka in stone. This I could prove to thee as could no other.”