Yet there was something in that gentle eye, an essence of inherited royalty, before which his rude nature bowed.

The body might be contemptible, but within it dwelt the proud spirit of the descendant of a hundred kings.
Abi advanced to the steps of the throne and knelt there, till after a little pause Pharaoh stretched out the sceptre in his hand for him to kiss.

Then he spoke in his light, quick voice.
"Welcome, Prince and my brother," he said.

"We quarrelled long ago, did we not, and many years have passed since we met, but Time heals all wounds and--welcome, son of my father.

I need not ask if you are well," and he glanced enviously at the great-framed man who knelt before him.
"Hail to your divine Majesty!" answered Abi in his deep voice.