"Hush!" she whispered. "Dost wonder, I know, to see me here alone at this hour, without even Sen-tur by my side. And yet I came because I wished to speak to thee alone."
"Thou dost indeed honour me," said Hugh, quietly, while I made a discreet movement to retire.
"Tell thy counsellor he need not go," she said. "I know that thou and he are one, and I am not ashamed of that which I would say."
"Wilt go within then, Princess? The morning is cold."
"Nay! what I would say will not take long; yet I could not sleep till I had told it thee. The night seemed oppressive. I wandered into the garden, and Isis led my steps to thy church. I thought thou wast asleep, and that I would sit beside thee, not waking thee, yet telling thee of this thing which lies so heavy on my heart. I thought to whisper it gently lest thou wake, to murmur it so that thou, half dreaming, shouldst hear my voice, and hearing it, dream on."
She certainly had that indefinable charm—an exquisite voice—and both Hugh and I listened to her strange words, charmed by its sweet-sounding melody.
"Nay, Princess," said Hugh, as she had paused; "sweet as the dream would have been then, I much prefer the reality, and as long as thou wilt speak I will listen."
"I came to tell thee … that …"
There was a little catch in her throat, but she tried to conquer her emotion and put out both her hands in a pretty, almost childlike appeal.
"Ah, I know! some one has told thee evil of me, and I longed to speak to thee … about … about Amen-het.… They told thee that I am vain and
