The Yoke: A Romance of the Days when the Lord Redeemed the Children of Israel from the Bondage of Egypt
John Stuart Mill · en
With a single step the young sculptor crossed to the side of the barge
and wrenched the hook from the hands of the man that held it. For a
moment he poised it above him, struggling with a mighty desire to bring
it down on the head of the startled fan-bearer. The youthful lord
dropped from his point of vantage and half of the group retreated
precipitately. Har-hat drew back slowly and raised himself, as
Kenkenes lowered the weapon. For a space the two regarded each other
savagely. The contemplation endured only the smallest part of a
moment, but it was eloquent of the bitterest mutual antagonism. There
was no relaxing in the rigid lines of the young sculptor's figure, but
the fan-bearer recovered himself immediately.
"Forestalled!" he laughed. "Retreat! We would not steal another man's
bliss though it be fourteen times his share!"
The oars fell and the boat darted back into the night, the affable
sound of Har-hat's raillery receding into silence with it.
Kenkenes flung the boat-hook into the Nile and returned to his bench,
puzzled at the inordinate passion of hate in his heart for the
fan-bearer.
At the end of the first watch the flotilla drifted into Memphis.
Bonfires so vast as to suggest conflagrations made the long water-front
as brilliant as day. Far up the slope toward the city the red light
discovered a great multitude, densely packed and cheering tumultuously.
Amid the uproar one by one the barges approached and discharged their
occupants along the wharves. Soldiery in companies drove a roadway
through the mass from time to time, by which the arrivals might enter
Memphis, though few of these departed at once. When the Lady Senci's
barge drew up, Mentu forced his way through the increasing crowd to
meet and assist its occupants to alight. Kenkenes, still on deck, was
handing his charges down the stairway one by one, when he saw Io, who
stood at the very end of the line, lean over the side, her face aglow
with joy. Kenkenes guessed the cause of her delight and, deserting his
post, went to her side. Below stood Seti, on tiptoe, his hands
upstretched against the tall hull.
"O, I can not reach thee," he was crying. Kenkenes caught up the
trembling, blushing, repentant girl and lowered her plump into the
prince's eager arms.
When Kenkenes saw her an hour later, he lifted her out of her curricle
before the portals of Senci's house.
"What did I tell thee?" he said softly.
But the little girl clung to his arms and leaned against him with a sob.
"O Kenkenes," she whispered, "he came but to drag me away to look upon
her!"
"Didst go?" he asked.
"Nay," she answered fiercely.
After a silence Kenkenes spoke again: