At the time of our story the peoples of western Asia had allied themselves to them.] disturbed our happiness, for the king took Mena with him to the war.
Fifteen times did the moon, rise upon our happiness, and then--" "And then the Gods heard my prayer, and accepted my offerings," said Paaker, with a trembling voice, "and tore the robber of my joys from you, and scorched your heart and his with desire.

Do you think you can tell me anything I do not know?
Once again for fifteen days was Mena yours, and now he has not returned again from the war which is raging hotly in Asia." "But he will return," cried the young wife.
"Or possibly not," laughed Paaker.

"The Cheta, carry sharp weapons, and there are many vultures in Lebanon, who perhaps at this hour are tearing his flesh as he tore my heart." Nefert rose at these words, her sensitive spirit bruised as with stones thrown by a brutal hand, and attempted to leave her shady refuge to follow the princess into the house of the parascllites; but her feet refused to bear her, and she sank back trembling on her stone seat.

She tried to find words, but her tongue was powerless.

Her powers of resistance forsook her in her unutterable and soul-felt distress--heart-wrung, forsaken and provoked.
A variety of painful sensations raised a hot vehement storm in her bosom, which checked her breath, and at last found relief in a passionate and convulsive weeping that shook her whole body.