"Certainly," said the witch. "Little people may do mean things, and
great people can let others do things that they cannot do themselves.
My story has stirred thy gall, and it seems to me that thou dost not love
the poet Pentaur. A smile! Well then--I have not lost sight of him, and
I know he is grown up as proud and as handsome as Assa. He is
wonderfully like him, and I could have loved him--have loved as this
foolish heart had better never have loved. It is strange! In many
women, who come to me, I see how their hearts cling to the children of
men who have abandoned them, and we women are all alike, in most things.
But I will not let myself love Assa's grandchild--I must not. I will
injure him, and help everyone that persecutes him; for though Assa is
dead, the wrongs he did me live in me so long as I live myself.
Pentaur's destiny must go on its course. If thou wilt have his life,
consult with Nemu, for he hates him too, and he will serve thee more
effectually than I can with my vain spells and silly harmless brews. Now
let me go home!"

A few hours later Ameni sent to invite the Regent to breakfast.

"Do you know who the witch Hekt is?" asked Ani.

"Certainly--how should I notknow? She is the singer Beki--the former
enchantress of Thebes. May I ask what her communications were?"

Ani thought it best not to confide the secret of Pentaur's birth to the
high-priest, and answered evasively. Then Ameni begged to be allowed to
give him some information about the old woman, and how she had had a hand
in the game; and he related to his hearer, with some omissions and
variations--as if it were a fact he had long known--the very story which
a few hours since he had overheard, and learned for the first time. Ani