'Men come to their own sometimes. Ana, especially
if they do not seek their own,' he said. 'But if so,
much must happen first that is terrible. The new
Pharaoh is not the only man who dreams, Ana. Of
late years my sleep has been light and sometimes I
dream, though I have no magic like to that of Ki.'

'What did you dream?'

'I dreamed of a great multitude marching like
locusts over Egypt. Before them went a colunm of
fire in which were two hands. One of these held
Amon by the throat and one held the new Pharaoh
by the throat. After them came a column of cloud,
and in it a shape like to that of an unwrapped mummy,
a shape of death standing upon water that was full
of countless dead.'

Now I bethought me of the picture that the Prince
and I had seen in the skies yonder in the land of Goshen,
but of it I said nothing. Yet I think that Bakenkhonsu
saw into my mind, for he asked,

'Do you never dream, Friend? You see visions
that come true — Amenmeses on the throne, for
instance. Do you not also dream at times? No?
Well, then, the Prince? You look like men who
might, and the time is ripe and pregnant. Oh! I
remember. You are both of you dreaming, not of the
pictures that pass across the terrible eyes of Ki, but
of those that the moon reflects upon the waters of
Memphis, the Moon of Israel. Ana, be advised by
me, put away the flesh and increase the spirit, for in
it alone is happiness, whereof woman and all our joyB
are but earthly symbols, shadows thrown by that



THE CROWNING OF AMENMESES 179

mortal cloud which lies between us and the Light
Above. I see that you understand, because some
of that light has struggled to your heart. Do you
remember that you saw it shining in the hour when
your little daughter died? Ah! I thought so. It was
the gift she left you, a gift that will grow and grow
in such a breast as yours, if only you will put away the
flesh and make room for it, Ana. Man, do not weep
— laugh as I do, Oho-hol Give me my staff, and
good-night. 