"Do you know, old man, that if those are your sentiments your attitude towards your future wife is doubtful in its morality?"
"You don't understand what I mean, Mark. Marriage is a sacred tie, whether contracted in Christian or in pagan land. My word is pledged to Queen Maat-kha, and I will keep my word to her as much as I should if I were pledged to a woman English-born like myself. And if ever I return to dusty old London, even if she did not choose to accompany me, I should still consider the tie which binds me to her indissoluble, so long as she chooses to hold me to it. But, believe me, she has no love for me; to her I merely represent the stranger—human or semi-divine—who has helped to keep the crown upon her head and prevented it from falling upon that of Neit-akrit, whom she hates. The Pharaoh is doomed, and by the curious constitution of this land a woman can only sit upon the throne of Kamt if a husband or a son share that throne with her. That arbitrary old Ur-tasen would not allow her to wed one of her own subjects; he was surprised into accepting me. As soon as a son is born to her, she will release me from my word and see me depart without a pang."
"In the meanwhile, how are you going to induce the Pharaoh to accept me as his medical adviser?"
"I don't think it will be difficult, for I expect to-day he will be too ill to have much will of his own. Do you know that somehow I have had the feeling all along that neither Queen Maat-kha nor Ur-tasen want the unfortunate man to get well. He is no friend of mine, but I hope to goodness you can cure him, if only to annoy my arch-enemy, the high priest."
The difficult problem was unexpectedly and suddenly solved when, just as the sun was setting, our usual
