Thus she saw again the scene at her
father's fatal feast to the Priest of Kesh, when Asti by her magic had
caused the likeness of a monkey to come from the juggler's vase. Only
now it was Abi who emerged from the vase, a terrible Abi, with a red
sword in his hand, and Pharaoh's crown upon his head. He leapt from the
mouth of the vase, he devoured her with his greedy eyes, with stealthy
steps he came to seize her, and she could not stir an inch, something
held her fast upon her throne.
She could bear it no more--she opened her eyes, stared at the darkness,
and out of the darkness came voices, telling of death and war. She
thrust her fingers into her ears, and tried to fix her thoughts on
Rames, that bright-eyed, light-footed lover of hers, whom she so longed
to see again, without whom she was so lonely and undefended.
"Where was Rames?" she wondered. "What fate had overtaken him? Something in
her seemed to answer--Death. Oh! if Rames were dead, what should she do?
Of what use was it to be Queen of Egypt, the first woman in the world,
if Rames were dead?"
Loneliness, insufferable loneliness seemed to get a hold of her.
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