Meanwhile the scribe of the "double house of life," and the son of the
royal sculptor were taking comfort on the palace-top beneath the subdued
light of a hooded lamp.

The pair had spoken of all Memphis and its gossip; had given account of
themselves and had caught up with the present time in the succession of
events.

"Hotep, at thy lofty notch of favor, one must have the wisdom of Toth,"
Kenkenes observed, adding with a laugh, "mark thou, I have compared thee
with no mortal."

Hotep shook his head.

"Nay, any man may fill my position so he but knows when to hold his
tongue and what to say when he wags it."

"O, aye," the sculptor admitted in good-natured irony. "Those be simple
qualifications and easy to combine."

The scribe smiled.

"Mine is no arduous labor now. During my years of apprenticeship I was
sorely put to it, but now I have only to wait upon the king and look to
it that mine underlings are not idle. If another war should come--if any
manner of difficulty should arise in matters of state, I doubt not mine
would be a heavy lot."

The young man spoke of war and fellowship with a monarch as if he had
been a lady's page and gossiped of fans and new perfumes.