Pentaur's heart beat wildly, for he recognized Bent-Anat and her companions. They disappeared by the hunter's cottage, but he stood still, breathing painfully, spell-bound to the cliff by which he stood --a long, long time--and did not stir. He did not hear a light step, that came near to him, and died away again, he did not feel that the sun began to cast fierce beams on him, and on the porphyry cliff behind him, he did not see a woman now coming quickly towards him; but, like a deaf man who has suddenly acquired the sense of hearing, he started when he heard his name spoken--by whose lips? "Pentaur!" she said again; the poet opened his arms, and Bent-Anat fell upon his breast; and he held her to him, clasped, as though he must hold her there and never part from her all his life long. Meanwhile the princess's companions were resting by the hunter's little house. "She flew into his arms--I saw it," said Uarda. "Never shall I forget it. It was as if the bright lake there had risen up to embrace the mountain." "Where do you find such fancies, child ?" cried Nefert. "In my heart, deep in my heart!" cried Uarda. "I am so unspeakably happy." "You saved him and rewarded him for his goodness; you may well be happy." "It is not only that," said Uarda. "I was in despair, and now I see that the Gods are righteous and loving." Mena's wife nodded to her, and said with a sigh: "They are both happy!" "And they deserve to be!" exclaimed Uarda. "I fancy the Goddess of Truth is like Bent-Anat, and there is not another man in Egypt like Pentaur." Nefert was silent for awhile; then she asked softly: "Did you ever see Mena?" "How should I?" replied the girl. "Wait a little while, and your turn will come. I believe that to-day I can read the future like a prophetess. But let us see if Nebsecht lies there, and is still asleep. The draught I put into the wine must have been strong." "It was," answered Nefert, following her into the hut. The physician was still lying on the bed, and sleeping with his mouth wide open. Uarda knelt down by his side, looked in his face, and said: "He is clever and knows everything, but how silly he looks now! I will wake him." She pulled a blade of grass out of the heap on which he was lying, and saucily tickled his nose. Nebsecht raised himself, sneezed, but fell back asleep again; Uarda laughed out with her clear silvery tones. Then she blushed--"That is not right," she said, "for he is good and generous." She took the sleeper's hand, pressed it to her lips, and wiped the drops from his brow. Then he awoke, opened his eyes, and muttered half in a dream still: "Uarda--sweet Uarda." The girl started up and fled, and Nefert followed her. When Nebsecht at last got upon his feet and looked round him, he found himself alone in a strange house. He went out of doors, where he found Bent-Anat's little train anxiously discussing things past and to come. CHAPTER XXXVI.