“Yet he will, Ana, whether he means it or not. For his sake she betrayed her people, which among the Israelites is a deadly crime. Twice she saved his life, once by warning him of the ambush, and again by stabbing with her own hands one of her kinsmen who was murdering him. Is it not so? Tell me; you were there.” “It is so, but what then?” “This: that whatever she may say, she loves him; unless indeed, it is you whom she loves,” and he looked at me shrewdly. “When a woman has a prince, and such a prince to her hand, would she trouble herself to set snares to catch a scribe?” I asked, with some bitterness. “Oho!” he said, with one of his great laughs, “so things stand thus, do they? Well, I thought it, but, friend Ana, be warned in time. Do not try to conjure down the Moon to be your household lamp lest she should set, and the Sun, her lord, should grow wroth and burn you up. Well, she loves him, and therefore soon or late she will make him love her, being what she is.” “How, Bakenkhonsu?” “With most men, Ana, it would be simple. A sigh, some half-hidden tears at the right moment, and the thing is done, as I have known it done a thousand times. But this prince being what he is, it may be otherwise. She may show him that her name is gone for him; that because of him she is hated by her people, and rejected by her god, and thus stir his pity, which is Love’s own sister. Or mayhap, being also, as I am told, wise, she will give him counsel as to all these matters of the Israelites, and thus creep into his heart under the guise of friendship, and then her sweetness and her beauty will do the rest in Nature’s way. At least by this road or by that, upstream or downstream, thither she will come.” “If so, what of it? It is the custom of the kings of Egypt to have more wives than one.” “This, Ana; Seti, I think, is a man who in truth will have but one, and that one will be this Hebrew. Yes, a Hebrew woman will rule Egypt, and turn him to the worship of her god, for never will she worship ours. Indeed, when they see that she is lost to them, her people will use her thus. Or perchance her god himself will use her to fulfil his purpose, as already he may have used her.” “And afterwards, Bakenkhonsu?” “Afterwards—who knows? I am not a magician, at least not one of any account, ask it of Ki. But I am very, very old and I have watched the world, and I tell you that these things will happen, unless——” and he paused. “Unless what?” He dropped his voice. “Unless Userti is bolder than I think, and kills her first or, better still, procures some Hebrew to kill her—say, that cast-off lover of hers. If you would be a friend to Pharaoh and to Egypt, you might whisper it in her ear, Ana.” “Never!” I answered angrily.