for which he had hazarded his life in unsailed seas. Lastly, Pharaoh
bade them lead the Wanderer in before his presence, and he came
unhelmeted, in all his splendour, the goodliest man that had ever been
seen in Khem. He was of no great height, but very great of girth, and of
strength unmatched, and with the face of one who had seen what few have
seen and lived. The beauty of youth was gone from him, but his face had
the comeliness of a warrior tried on sea and land; the eyes were of a
valour invincible, and no woman could see him but she longed to be his
love.

As he entered murmurs of amazement passed over all the company, and all
eyes were fixed on him, save only the weary and wandering eyes of the
listless Meriamun. But when she chanced to lift her face, and gaze on
him, they who watch the looks of kings and queens saw her turn grey as
the dead, and clutch with her hand at her side. Pharaoh himself saw
this though he was not quick to mark what passed, and he asked her if
anything ailed her, but she answered:--

"Nay, only methinks the air is sick with heat and perfume. Greet thou
this stranger." But beneath her robe her fingers were fretting all the
while at the golden fringes of her throne.

"Welcome, thou Wanderer," cried Pharaoh, in a deep and heavy voice,
"welcome! By what name art thou named, and where dwell thy people, and
what is thy native land?"

Bowing low before Pharaoh, the Wanderer answered, with a feigned tale,
that his name was Eperitus of Alybas, the son of Apheidas. The rest of
the story, and how he had been taken by the Sidonians, and how he had
smitten them on the seas, he told as he had told it to Rei. And he