"My lord goes to-day to visit his future kinswoman, but the Pharaoh is sick, Ur-tasen; I know not if he will accompany us."
"I think he will," said the high priest, with a sarcastic smile. "He will surely wish to be present in order to see the happy greeting of his young cousin to the future ruler of Kamt."
"He is too ill to bear the fatigue," said Hugh, peremptorily.
"Too ill, I fear," rejoined the high priest, drily, "to bear the long days of impatience waiting for thy home-coming, oh, beloved of the gods!"
"Ay! thou sayest truly, Ur-tasen; the holy Pharaoh is too ill to bear much, and my counsellor and I have consulted together, and together have decided that the hands which tend him are not sufficiently skilful to be entrusted with the care of so precious a life."
"A life, however precious, is always in the hands of the gods," retorted Ur-tasen. "None should know that better than thou, who hailest from the foot of their throne."
The duel had fairly begun. Hugh was determined to keep his temper, in spite of the high priest's obvious sarcasm and mock deference.
"The gods," he said, "like to see such lives well looked after on this earth, and it will be my care in the future that wise counsels preside over the sick-bed of the Pharaoh."
I thought that the high priest's parchment-like face had become a shade or two more sallow than before; the Queen, too, looked pale, but it might have been from fright at Hugh's audacity. She had been accustomed throughout her life to accept the dictates of the high priest of Ra as if they emanated from the gods themselves. Ur-tasen had raised his shorn head
