crown of Kamt, which I, the high priest of the Most High, All-creating Ra, will place upon her brow."
Ur-tasen had done his duty. Hugh could rest satisfied. Neit-akrit would be Queen indeed, and after the proclamation issued at the very foot of their most cherished god, the people of Kamt would truly reverence and honour her.
After this Ur-tasen read a short proclamation embodying the other promises he had made to Hugh: the abolition of the "casting-out" form of punishment, the complete cessation of all description of mutilation. The blind priestesses began to sing again, and from the four corners of the temple clouds of incense rose: the priests of Ra had crowded round the steps of the sanctuary; they were offering up a final sacrifice in honour of him who had gone.
Then suddenly, from amidst a distant group, one solitary figure detached itself. I did not recognise it at first, but Hugh gave a start, and then I knew who it was.
She came slowly forward, while on each side of her the people knelt, in order to kiss the ground on which she walked. I don't think that I had ever seen her look more beautiful; she was draped from below the bust, down to her ankles, in a long kalasiris of dull black, against which her ruddy tresses fell in strands of living gold, each side of her, right down to her knees. She had neither jewel nor ornament of any kind; her tiny feet were bare, as were her arms and shoulders. Beside her Sen-tur walked slowly and majestically, as if conscious of the solemnity of the sacred building. She stared straight before her, at the figure of the god; the blind priestesses were softly chanting a hymn, and she—Neit-akrit—almost as in a dream, began to mount the sanctuary steps.
