Amuba gave a shout of triumph and leaped out from among the bushes. But he paused and turned as an exclamation of alarm broke from Chebron. To his astonishment, he saw a look of horror on his companion’s face. His bow was still outstretched, and he stood as if petrified. “What’s the matter, Chebron?” Amuba exclaimed. “What has happened? Has a deadly snake bit you? What is it, Chebron?” “Do you not see?” Chebron said in a low voice. “I see nothing,” Amuba replied, looking round, and at the same time putting another arrow into his bowstring ready to repel the attack of some dangerous creature. “Where is it? I can see nothing.” “My arrow; it glanced off a twig and entered there; I saw one of the cats fall. I must have killed it.” Two years before Amuba would have laughed at the horror which Chebron’s face expressed at the accident of shooting a cat, but he had been long enough in Egypt to know how serious were the consequences of such an act. Better by far that Chebron’s arrow had lodged in the heart of a man. In that case an explanation of the manner in which the accident had occurred, a compensation to the relatives of the slain, and an expiatory offering at one of the temples would have been deemed sufficient to purge him from the offense; but to kill a cat, even by accident, was the most unpardonable offense an Egyptian could commit, and the offender would assuredly be torn to pieces by the mob. Knowing this, he realized at once the terrible import of Chebron’s words. For a moment he felt almost as much stunned as Chebron himself, but he quickly recovered his presence of mind. “There is only one thing to be done, Chebron; we must dig a hole and bury it at once. I will run and fetch a hoe.” Throwing down his bow and arrows he ran to the little shed at the other end of the garden where the implements were kept, bidding a careless good-morning to the men who were already at work there. He soon rejoined Chebron, who had not moved from the spot from which he had shot the unlucky arrow. “Do you think this is best, Amuba? Don’t you think I had better go and tell my father?” “I do not think so, Chebron. Upon any other matter it would be right at once to confer with him, but as high priest it would be a fearful burden to place upon his shoulders. It would be his duty at once to denounce you; and did he keep it secret, and the matter be ever found out, it would involve him in our danger. Let us therefore bear the brunt of it by ourselves.” “I dare not go in,” Chebron said in awestruck tones. “It is too terrible.” “Oh, I will manage that,” Amuba said lightly. “You know to me a cat is a cat and nothing more, and I would just as soon bury one as that rascally hawk which has been the cause of all this mischief.”