“‘To the Idiot you must plight a solemn troth; but listen, Tothmes the Second, has been taken from his mother’s side. Never will she speak word to him more, for ere this, by my command she has entered one of the nunneries, set apart for holy women, who night and day, for the enduring glory of Osirus, keep the lamps, filled with sacred oil, and tend the temple fires. Princess, thou shall make marriage vow to Tothmes; but he shall be safe kept, by one to whom I would trust my life, my all, a man who is honor’s self! Whose every thought is known to me, as mine to him, in the hands and under the guidance of Alric, captain of the King’s guards, I place the so-called King.’”
A great sob broke from Alric’s throat, and he made a movement, as though to break the trance, but the action was so rapid as to almost be lost sight of in the look of intense resolve the look of indomitable will that took its place.
“‘If,’ went on Miriam, ‘Tothmes the Second die, and Tothmes the Third ascend the throne, thou shalt still, be queen, for over Tothmes the Third, does Alric hold an influence that is plastic as meal, and as strong as death. Aye, Hatsu, while I live, and while Alric lives thou shalt reign in Egypt. Aye, I swear it!’”
At the echo of his words, which are uttered in a voice loud and clear, there comes a clash of brazen instruments of music, and the ear catches the cries, and the moans, and the twitter, and the coos of the sacred beasts and birds in the great temple beyond.
Now the temple door creaks on its hinges! and there comes, the slow muffled droning notes, of a myriad voices, men’s, and women’s, and the voices of youths and maidens.
Hatsu has again risen to her feet, her eyes are bright, a red rose glows in each cheek, and the great Zelas has bent and kissed her upon her brow.
He is calling the doves that have been fluttering about the apartment. They come at his bidding, and he places them upon Hatsu’s shoulders; and upon her outstretched arms.
Into her hand he has put a great bunch of heliotrope, and now he sprinkles a strong elixir of catnip over the hem of the Princess’ gown, and upon her sandalled feet.
“Go,” he says, “and stand before the people.” And opening the curtains a little way, he thrusts her forth! and as the silken folds fall back, behind her, the people hear the voice! that makes all men, high or low, rich, or poor, simple, or wise, tremble! the voice of the awful invisible High Priest Zelas, calling to them:
“Behold your Queen! Hatsu, beloved of Osirus, dear to all the Gods, Hatsu, the Queen!”