"A quarter of a scarabæus," he answered. This is the common cheap coin, bearing the sacred beetle cut in stone, copper, lead, and even wood. Higher values are represented by silver, bronze, brass, and gold rings. Money in disk-form I have not yet heard of in Egypt. An Egyptian's purse is a necklace of gold rings of greater or less value. The scarabæus is often broken in four pieces, each fraction containing a hieroglyphic. The value is about equal to a Syrian neffir. I placed in his hand a copper scarabæus, and said: "Go thy way! This shall justify thee to thy conscience. These Hebrews are too helpless to be of further service to thee this day." The taskmaster took the money with a smile of gratification, and at once left the court of the fountain. The old Hebrew looked at me with grateful surprise, caught my hand, pressed it to his heart, and then covered it with kisses. I smiled upon him with friendly sympathy, and, stooping down, raised the head of the young man upon my knee. By our united aid he was soon restored to sensibility. But, my dear mother, I will, with your permission, continue my narrative in another letter. The trumpets, which from the temple of Osiris proclaim that the last rays of the setting sun are disappearing from its summit, also warn me to draw my letter to a close. The incense of the altar rises into the blue and golden sky, and typifies prayer. I will receive the lesson it teaches, and retire to my oratory and pray, O mother, for thy health and happiness and the prosperity of thy reign. Your affectionate son, SESOSTRIS LETTER VII. CITY OF ON. MY ROYAL AND BELOVED MOTHER: I will now continue the narrative of my interview with the venerable bond-servant at the fountain or "well of strangers," near the treasure-city Raamses. After the youth had recovered his senses, I was for a few moments an object of profound surprise to him. He surveyed me with mingled fear and wonder. "My lord is good, fear him not, Israel," said the old man. The youth looked incredulous, and, had his strength permitted, would have fled away from me. I said-- "I am not thy taskmaster! Dread not my presence!" The tone of my voice reassured him. He smiled gently, and an expression of gladness lighted up his eyes. A drop of blood trickled down his forehead and increased the paleness of his skin. "What is thy name?" I asked the old man, speaking in Syriac, for in that tongue I had heard him murmur the name of his son; and I have since found that all Hebrews of the older class speak this language, or rather Syro-Chaldaic. They also understand and speak the Egyptian vernacular. "Ben Isaac, my lord!" he answered. "Art thou in bondage?" "I and my children, as my fathers were!" "What brought thee and thy people into this servitude?" "It is a sad history, my lord! Art thou then a stranger in Egypt, that thou art ignorant of the story of the Hebrew?" "I am a Phœnician. I have been but a few weeks in Egypt."