Fearful they stood towering above us against the background of blackness.
Gathered there were Seti the Prince, clothed in a priest's white robe, and wearing a linen headdress, but no ornaments, and Userti the Princess, high-priestess of Hathor, Lady of the West, Goddess of Love and Nature.

She wore Hathor's vulture headdress, and on it the disc of the moon fashioned of silver.

Also were present Roi the head-priest, clad in his sacerdotal robes, an old and wizened man with a strong, fierce face, Ki the Sacrificer and Magician, Bakenkhonsu the ancient, myself, and a company of the priests of Amon-Ra, Mut, and Khonsu.

From behind the statues came the sound of solemn singing, though who sang we could not see.
Presently from out of the darkness that lay beyond the lamps appeared a woman, led by two priestesses and wrapped in a long cloak.

They brought her to an open place in front of the statue of Amon, took from her the cloak and departed, glancing back at her with eyes of hate and fear.
There before us stood Merapi, clad in white, with a simple wimple about her head made fast beneath her chin with that scarabaeus clasp which Seti had given to her in the city of Goshen, one spot of brightest blue amid a cloud of white.