“That is strange, Lady; indeed I think that you throw mud upon your father or your mother, or both, since how could these have begotten one dark, a high-born daughter of the Nile, and another fair as Apollo and having Grecian Apollo’s face and mien? Again, how comes it that the sister of a Phœnician merchant binds up her locks with the circlet of Egyptian royalty?” And I pointed to the uræus-twisted band of gold upon her brow.
“Blood plays strange tricks, Priestess, searching out now the likeness of one ancestor, and now of another, so that ofttimes one child is born dark and the other fair. As for the ornament, I bought it in trade from an Arab merchant, not knowing whence it came or its significance,” she began to answer unabashed, when of a sudden Kallikrates checked her, muttering,
“Have done!” Then addressing me, he said,
“O Queen and Priestess, take no heed of this lady’s words, since of late, because of our misfortunes, we have been forced to tell many strange tales according to the conditions of the hour. We are not Phœnicians born of one House; we are by blood Greek and Egyptian, and by relation not brother and sister, but man and wife.”
Now when I heard these words my heart stood still who hoped that Isis and their oaths might have held this pair apart. Yet I answered calmly,
“Is it so, Wanderer? Tell me then, of what faith are you twain and by whom were you wed? Did some minister of Zeus join your hands, or did you stand together before Hathor’s altars?”
Then while he searched for some answer that he could not find, I went on, laughing a little,
“Perchance, O noble pair, you were not wed at all. Perchance you are not husband and wife but only lover and lover mated after Nature’s fashion!”
He hung his head, confused, and even the bold eyes of Amenartas were troubled.
Now I could bear no more.