Presently she slipped between him and the parapet. "Hast thou not called me wise in thy time?" she asked. "I believed thee, then." "I told thee a truth, but I might have added that thou art over-brave," he said, catching her drift. "Listen, then, to me. Thou, in thy young credulity, seest in this only justice to an enemy. I, in the wisdom of riper years and the discernment bred of experience with knaves, see in it the redemption of Egypt. If the heaviest penalty overtook us is it not a result worth achieving at any cost? Seti, believe me; grant me my belief! It is the one hope of thy father's kingdom. Shall it fail because thou wast envious for my safety above Egypt's? I can aid thee to success. That thou hast said. If thou failest, though thou dost attempt it alone, dost thou dream that I could see thee punished without crying out, 'It was I who urged him!' If thou art undone, likewise am I. If thou art to succeed, wilt thou selfishly keep thy success to thyself?" She slipped her arm about his neck and pressed close to him. "Nay, Seti, thou dost overestimate the peril. The Hebrew will not betray us, and who else will know of it? I shall make a journey into Goshen, find Mesu and bid him meet thee at a certain place. There thou shalt come at a certain time with the treasure, and the feat is done. But if we fail--" she flung her head back and bewitched him with a heavy eye--"will it be hard for me to persuade the king?" Seti contemplated her with bewilderment in his face. The youth and innocence in his young soul revolted, but there was another element that yielded and was pleased. "Have it thy way, Ta-user," he said, with hesitation in his words, while he continued to gaze helplessly into her compelling eyes. She laughed and kissed him. "I will see thee again soon." Putting him back from her, she descended the stairway. In the shadow at the foot she came upon two figures, walking close together, the taller of the two bending over the smaller. The pair started apart at sight of the princess. "A blessing on thy content, Ta-meri," the princess said. "And upon thine, Nechutes." The cup-bearer bowed and rumbled his appreciation of her courtesy. "Dost thou leave us, Ta-user?" his wife asked. "Aye, I return to the Hak-heb. O, I am glad to go. Would I could leave the same quiet here in Tanis that I hope to find in Nehapehu." "Aye, I would thou couldst. But is it not true, my Princess, that one may make his own content even in the sorriest surroundings?" Nechutes asked. "For himself, even so. But the very making of one's selfish content may work havoc with the peace of another. That I have seen." "Aye," Nechutes responded uncomfortably, wondering if the princess meant to confess her disappointment to them. "It makes me quarrel at the Hathors. The most of us deserve the ills that overtake us. But he--alas--none but the good could sing as he sang!" The cup-bearer dropped his indifference immediately.