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THE MAKING OF AN ENEMY
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a coming foe. I refused to believe that a woman, young and fascinating, would without murmur or struggle resign her chances of a throne. Accustomed to rule by her beauty, she must love power, and surely would not resign herself patiently to a secondary position in the land.

We were looking forward to a preliminary battle on the morrow. Hugh was determined that the Pharaoh should be placed under my charge, and we both much wondered whether the arbitrary high priest would allow himself to give way to the stranger upon every point.

"My one hold upon these people," argued Hugh, "is through their superstition. They look upon me as a being of another world, and any weakness would hopelessly endanger that position."

"Every conflict with that powerful and arbitrary high priest might prove a fatal one, remember," I warned.

"I know that; but the Pharaoh is dying for want of proper medical treatment. It would be a sheer physical impossibility to me to watch him dying by inches and not raise a finger to help him. Having raised a finger, if it must mean hand and arm as well, then we shall see who is the stronger—Ur-tasen or I."

But whatever the feelings of the high-priest may have been, he knew the art of concealing them to the full. The next morning, at the Cabinet Council, he was deferential, nay, obsequious to Hugh, and hardly spoke, but stood humbly with his tall golden wand in his hand, and only gave advice when directly spoken to.

Then, when it was almost time to go, and I had begun to think that Hugh, on the whole, had thought it wiser to make no mention for the present of the Pharaoh's sickness, the Queen suddenly said: