"I," said Katuti decidedly. "And one who has nothing to look for from
Rameses."
"Who is that?"
"Paaker."
Is the Mohar here?" asked the Regent surprised.
"You yourself have seen him."
"You are mistaken," said Ani. "I should—"
"Do you recollect the one-eyed, grey-haired, blackman, who yesterday brought me a letter? That was my sister's son."
The Regent struck his forehead—"Poor wretch" he muttered.
"He is frightfully altered," said Katuti. "He need not have blackened his face, for his own mother would not know him again: He lost an eye in his fight with Mena, who also wounded him in the lungs with a thrust of his sword, so that he breathes and speaks with difficulty, his broad shoulders have lost their flesh, and the fine legs he swaggered about on have shrunk as thin as a negro's. I let him pass as my servant without any hesitation or misgiving. He does not yet know of my purpose, but I am sure that he would help us if a thousand deaths threatened him. For God's sake put aside all doubts and fears! We will shake the tree for you, if you will only hold out your hand to-morrow to pick up the fruit. Only one thing I must beg. Command the head butler not to stint the wine, so that the guards may give us no trouble. I know that you gave the order that only three of the five ships which brought the contents of your winelofts should be unloaded. I should have thought that the future king of Egypt might have been less anxious to save!"
Katuti's lips curled with contempt as she spoke the last words. Ani observed this and said: