priestesses, clad all in white, with their huge, disfiguring wigs over their heads, began a sweet and monotonous chant, accompanying themselves upon their crescent-shaped harps, and beating upon the sistrum and the drum.
Beside Hugh, underneath that same canopy of lilies, and with her hand holding his, was Queen Maat-kha. She had discarded her gorgeous funereal draperies, and was standing clad all in white, her regal crown over her low, square brow, her great black tresses descending each side of her pale face, almost to her knees, and intertwined with ropes of pearls. And I, in my dream, thought that I could see, clinging to her finger tips, the last drops of her murdered son's blood.
Again I tried to scream, but my throat seemed paralysed. Gradually memory, as a vague, still indistinct shadow, began to creep back into my mind. Hugh was before me clad in sumptuous robes, his dark head uncovered, his tall figure erect, ready to plight his troth, to pledge that word, which he worshipped as a divinity, to the vile murderess by his side. Twice a murderess, since having slain her son she would ruthlessly sacrifice her lover to save herself from the tortures of jealousy. Yes, I did remember! It was imperative that I should warn Hugh of some terrible danger which the woman beside him and the high priest of Ra had placed across his path.
"Oh, thou who art beloved of the gods, and thou who art Queen of Kamt, behold! Isis the goddess is awakened!
"Ra, all-creating, all-powerful and mighty, doth descend to earth!
"Phtah, the mysterious, and Osiris, the bounty-giver, do hover invisibly over your heads!
"But Hapi, who proceedeth from Ra, who, in his
