his very voice, are exactly like those of your father at the time when he
was young, and courted me. It is as if the Gods were fain to see the
best man that they ever took to themselves, walk before them a second
time upon earth."

"Yes, my lady," said the black slave; "no mortal eye ever saw such a
likeness. I saw him fighting in front of the paraschites' cottage, and
he was more like my dead master than ever. He swung the tent-post over
his head, as my lord used to swing his battle-axe."

"Be silent," cried Paaker, "and get out-idiot! The priest is like my
father; I grant it, mother; but he is an insolent fellow, who offended me
grossly, and with whom I have to reckon--as with many others."

"How violent you are!" interrupted his mother, "and how full of
bitterness and hatred. Your father was so sweet-tempered, and kind to
everybody."

"Perhaps they are kind to me?" retorted Paaker with a short laugh.
"Even the Immortals spite me, and throw thorns in my path. But I will
push them aside with my own hand, and will attain what I desire without
the help of the Gods and overthrow all that oppose me."

"We cannot blow away a feather without the help of the Immortals,"
answered Setchem. "So your father used to say, who was a very different
man both in body and mind from you! I tremble before you this evening,
and at the curses you have uttered against the children of your lord and
sovereign, your father's best friend."

"But my enemy," shouted Paaker. "You will get nothing from me but