II

THE NIGHT OF DREAD

The feast dragged slowly on, for Fear was of the company. The men and
women were silent, and when they drank, it was as if one had poured a
little oil on a dying fire. Life flamed up in them for a moment, their
laughter came like the crackling of thorns, and then they were silent
again. Meanwhile the Wanderer drank little, waiting to see what should
come. But the Queen was watching him whom already her heart desired,
and she only of all the company had pleasure in this banquet. Suddenly
a side-door opened behind the daïs, there was a stir in the hall, each
guest turning his head fearfully, for all expected some evil tidings.
But it was only the entrance of those who bear about in the feasts of
Egypt an effigy of the Dead, the likeness of a mummy carved in wood,
and who cry: "Drink, O King, and be glad, thou shalt soon be even as he!
Drink, and be glad." The stiff, swathed figure, with its folded hands
and gilded face, was brought before the Pharaoh, and Meneptah, who had
sat long in sullen brooding silence, started when he looked on it. Then
he broke into an angry laugh.

"We have little need of thee to-night," he cried, as he saluted
the symbol of Osiris. "Death is near enough, we want not thy silent
preaching. Death, Death is near!"

He fell back in his gilded chair, and let the cup drop from his hand,
gnawing at his beard.