"But when the hand is stiff and cold, Ur-tasen, I have no other son to share the throne of Kamt with me."
"Then thy hour will have come, oh, Queen! A woman cannot rule over Kamt, if there be no husband or son to sit upon the throne beside her. Thy hour will have come, together with that peace which Isis doth give to those she loves, and thou wilt be happy, far from the turmoil of thy court and the glitter of thy crown."
But this charming prospect did not seem to appeal to the royal lady, for she leaned forward on her litter, while her small hands nervously clutched at the black silk cushions.
"There would be no peace for me, Ur-tasen; for if the Pharaoh die childless, which I fear is Ra's decree, then my crown and his shall pass on to the heads of those whom I abhor."
"If the Pharaoh die childless," repeated the high priest, calmly, "the crown must inevitably fall from thy head on to that of Neit-akrit of the house of Usem-Ra."
How strange that name sounded in the mouth of the high priest! Neit-akrit! My Queen, as I used to call her! Neit-akrit, of whom Mr. Tankerville originally spoke! She had a namesake then in this land which was her own; or had her shade come wandering back after the lapse of centuries, to fascinate our senses and our minds with the mystic charm of her personality? Evidently, however, Queen Maat-kha was not under the magic spell of that name as I was, for a look of violent rage and hatred suddenly marred all the beauty of her face.
"Thou liest, Ur-tasen!" she said.
"Woman! Queen though thou be," retorted the high
