were not admitted to this impressive function. They, however, showed their reverence for the emissary of the gods by making a carpet of themselves on the temple steps, the terraces and embankments, on which the beloved of the gods and his wise counsellor were expected to tread. (A process which I, for one, found exceedingly uncomfortable, especially when I had to tread on the daintier portions of this novel carpet; the dark eyes which then peered up at me in half-awed, half-inquisitive fashion were very disconcerting.)
Truly reverential and adoring! Good old Hugh! It amused him, I know, for I could see his eyes twinkling in merriment, but his gravity was unshakable and his dignity superb. The Pharaoh did not appear at these solemn processions—perhaps he felt that his own importance was being put in the shade—but Queen Maat-kha never left Hugh's side throughout that long day. I could not of course hear the sweet whisperings with which she helped to beguile the gorgeous monotony of the festivals, but when I had an opportunity of watching Hugh closely, I could not detect the faintest sign of enthusiasm on his part in response to her blandishments.
There was an official banquet in the latter part of the afternoon, at which the Pharaoh, sarcastic, ailing and silent, presided. I looked at him as often as I could during the interminable repast, beginning to guess the nature of the disease from which he was suffering, and wondering what physicians there were in this strange land to alleviate his pains and give him relief. He contemptuously ignored the obsequious greetings of his entourage, as each in their turn, having entered the banqueting-hall, knelt down before him and kissed the ground. He seemed to have but one interest in life, and that was in his two apes, which never left his side,
