intensely blue were her eyes, and how deep the gold of her hair.
The next moment her voice, sweet and low, murmured, as Hugh reached the top of the steps:
"Welcome, oh, son of Ra! the beloved of Osiris, to the humble abode of thy kinswoman."
And she, too, like her slaves, knelt down to kiss the hem of Hugh Tankerville's garment.
"Then wilt thou not greet me as thy kinsman, princess?" he said as he raised her to her feet and waited for the cousinly kiss.
She stood before him and looked at him for fully ten seconds, while I could see that he was watching her with undisguised astonishment and admiration: then, resting her little hand very firmly on the head of her white panther, she said:
"If it is thy wish, oh, messenger of Ra."
Fortunately I had a very tight hold of the mighty Pharaoh at that moment, for I doubt not that but for this and his own physical weakness, he would have made Hugh atone then and there for that cousinly kiss. His hand had once again clutched the dagger at his belt, and with a hoarse cry, like some wounded beast at bay, had tried to jump forward, but fell back panting in my arms.
Princess Neit-akrit had turned quietly to him.
"My kinsman is very sick. The journey must have been too fatiguing. Art thou his physician, oh, stranger?" she asked of me.
"I am deputed to alleviate the mighty Pharaoh's sufferings," I replied.
"Dost think thou wilt succeed?" she asked, looking at me with great wondering blue eyes.
"I can cure, I hope, the ailments of his body," I replied with a smile.
