“It may be so,” said the Prince. “The matter is not one of which I care to talk. If this death were wrought by the magic of your wizards I have only this to say—that it is an ill payment to me in return for all that I have striven to do on behalf of the Hebrews. Yet, what else could I expect from such a people in such a world? Farewell.”
“One prayer, O Prince. I would ask your leave to speak with my niece, Merapi.”
“She is veiled. Since the murder of her child by wizardry, she sees no man.”
“Still I think she will see her uncle, O Prince.”
“What then do you wish to say to her?”
“O Prince, through the clemency of Pharaoh we poor slaves are about to leave the land of Egypt never to return. Therefore, if my niece remains behind, it is natural that I should wish to bid her farewell, and to confide to her certain matters connected with our race and family, which she might desire to pass on to her children.”
Now when he heard this word “children” Seti softened.
“I do not trust you,” he said. “You may be charged with more of your Hebrew curses against Merapi, or you may say words to her that will make her even unhappier than she is. Yet if you would wish to see her in my presence——”
“My lord Prince, I will not trouble you so far. Farewell. Be pleased to convey——”
“Or if that does not suit you,” interrupted Seti, “in the presence of Ana here you can do so, unless she refuses to receive you.”