first watch,--and Set be upon thee if thou delayest!"

Kenkenes, startled out of speech, did obeisance and hastened from the
temple.

The outside air was thick with dust and intensely hot under the
reddening glare of the sun. It was late afternoon. The city was still
crowded, the river front lined with a dense jam of people awaiting
transportation to the opposite shore. Kenkenes knew that many would
still be there on the morrow, since the number of boats was inadequate
to carry the multitude of passengers.

He began to think with concern upon the security of his own bari, left
in the marsh-growth by the Nile side, north of Karnak. He left the
shifting crowd behind and struck across the sandy flat toward the arm
of quiet water. Straggling groups preceded and followed him and at the
Nile-side he came upon a number contending for the possession of his
boat. They were image-makers and curriers, equally matched against one
another, and a Nubian servitor in a striped tunic, who remained neutral
that he might with safety join the winning party. The appearance of
the nobleman checked hostilities and the contestants, recognizing the
paternalism of rank after the manner of the lowly, called upon him to
arbitrate.

"The boat is mine, children," [3] was his quiet answer. He pushed it
off, stepped into it, and turned it broadside to them.

"See here, the scarab of Ptah," he said, tapping the bow with a paddle,
"and the name of Memphis?" With that he drew away to the sandbar
before the astonished men had realized the turn of events. Then they