fear gathered in the hearts of men. Then suddenly through all the hall
there was a rush like the rush of mighty wings. The deep foundations
of the Palace rocked, and to the sight of men the roof above seemed
to burst asunder, and lo! above them, against the distance of the sky,
there swept a shape of Fear, and the stars shone through its raiment.

Then the roof closed in again, and for a moment's space once more there
was silence, whilst men looked with white faces, each on each, and even
the stout heart of the Wanderer stood still.

Then suddenly all down the hall, from this place and from that, men rose
up and with one great cry fell down dead, this one across the board,
and that one across the floor. The Wanderer grasped his bow and counted.
From among those who sat at meat twenty and one had fallen dead. Yet
those who lived sat gazing emptily, for so stricken with fear were they
that scarce did each one know if it was he himself who lay dead or his
brother who had sat by his side.

But Meriamun looked down the hall with cold eyes, for she feared neither
Death nor Life, nor God nor man.

And while she looked and while the Wanderer counted, there rose a faint
murmuring sound from the city without, a sound that grew and grew, the
thunder of myriad feet that run before the death of kings. Then the
doors burst asunder and a woman sped through them in her night robes,
and in her arms she bore the naked body of a boy.

"Pharaoh!" she cried, "Pharaoh, and thou, O Queen, look upon thy
son--thy firstborn son--dead is thy son, O Pharaoh! Dead is thy son, O
Queen! In my arms he died suddenly as I lulled him to his rest," and she