CHAPTER XX

HOW BAR AND RENNY MEET FOR THE LAST TIME

Reflected in the quiet reaches of the Nile, a brilliant planet hung, like a silver ball, in the green and gold of Egypt’s long-continued afterglow. Below it Aah, the pale young moon, seemed as if it sought to catch that scintillating jewel in the hollow of its crescent cup.

The evening’s stillness was broken at intervals by the snarls of marauding hyenas, the barks of jackals and the hooting of the little golden-brown owls which haunted the over-hanging eaves of the massive Temple of Khonsu.

Dusky forms stole stealthily along the narrow alleys of the half-deserted city of Thebes. As they hurried past, the paling afterglow reflected upon the low white walls caused their nodding shadows to appear unnaturally enlarged, menacing, terrifying.

Within Renny’s workshop the more immediate shadows were at times revealed by the light from a deep bronze bowl, a brazier filled with glowing incense-wood. The bowl stood upon a low stand immediately in front of Renny’s statue of the Princess Sesen.

Once again relieved of its encircling ropes and mattings, the beautiful statue of the Princess stood revealed in all its grace and freedom. Following Menna’s sudden and mysterious disappearance Renny had come again to his workshop to claim the statue which was his. The little crocodile amulet at his throat had, indeed, saved him from Bar’s murderous attack. Bar himself felt this to be a fact.

In the center of the room stood the Princess herself. Her gaze was fixed upon the statue with a mingled expression of awe, pride and delight. At her feet knelt Renny the sculptor, his upturned face transfigured.

Bhanar, trembling with fear, frequently opened the door and gazed anxiously, impatiently it seemed, down the length of the garden path. As she slipped to the lock the broken seals tapped softly against the wooden panels.

Why so impatient, Bhanar? Why that gleam of hatred in those eyes, ever so gentle, ever so beautiful, as they rest upon the figure of thy mistress?

To account for Bhanar’s attitude, we must revert once more to Bar, servant to Menna. All unwitting of his master’s horrible fate, Bar had set spies about the Princess. He engaged a servant attached to the villa to report day by day the doings of the little Princess, hoping to surprise her in some unguarded evidence of affection for the infatuated Renny. He himself sought and gained the confidence of the jealous Bhanar.

The beautiful slave-girl, now envenomed by a sudden jealousy of her mistress, confided to the sympathetic Bar a note which Renny had bribed Baquit, the Gate-Keeper, to deliver to the Princess. Bhanar, after many a vain attempt, had managed to abstract it from her mistress’s ebony jewel-box.

In return for this, the overjoyed Bar had promised her that this very night should see Sesen and Renny parted forever.

Thus it happened, that when, towards sun-down, Sesen commanded Bhanar to get her long Memphite cloak for an outing in the gardens, Bhanar trembled with anticipation. She barely glanced at the ducks, the gazelle’s hearts, the Delta wine and the lotus-seed bread, which composed the evening meal. The meal being over and the low tabourets removed, Prince Wozer, Sesen’s father, was carried off upon the shoulders of six chair-bearers in the direction of the Theban cemetery. It was the anniversary of the death of a life-long friend and, as had been his habit, he himself would light the first torch preparatory to the service held in the dead man’s honor, he with his own hands would place the gifts of food and drink upon the offering-table of the dead noble’s tomb. For the last five years Prince Wozer had thus acted the part of _ka_-servant to Surera the Justified.

When once the long procession of offering-bearers which regularly accompanied her father on such occasions was well on its way, Sesen and Bhanar descended into the palace gardens.

Arrived at a little postern gate which connected with the villa-garden of Thi’s favorite, the unhappy Menna, the Princess pushed back the barlock, and both passed through. Another moment and they had entered the dimly-lit room of Renny’s former workshop.

All unsuspecting of Bhanar’s treachery, Sesen had placed the little slave at the door to watch. Bhanar’s heart beat so violently that it well-nigh suffocated her. A glimpse of her mistress reaching out her fingers toward the statue, her mistress’ other self, struck suddenly a tardy repentance into the very soul of the despairing slave-girl.

Suddenly Bhanar started. Three figures had turned into the narrow garden-path and were rapidly approaching. In the foremost of the three Bhanar recognized Bar the Memphite. Menna’s former spy was speaking in loud tones and violently gesticulating as he hurried the others up the path. Two archers of Prince Wozer’s guard strode behind him.

Forgetful of herself, her jealousy and treachery, Bhanar shrieked aloud; “Renny! My Renny! Bar is here, Menna’s spy! Fly, while there is yet time!”

At her first words, Renny leaped to the door. A glance showed him his old enemy. Who could have betrayed them?

Hardly knowing what he would do, he drew the Princess down behind the festooned pedestal, covering her at the same time with its heavy wreaths and flowers.

Even as he paused, rapidly scanning the effect, the outer door was burst violently open and the giant Bar pushed headlong into the room.

In the doorway, looming large against the afterglow, Renny beheld the sturdy forms of the two archers.

Bar shot a hasty glance at the statue, then ripped out an oath: “Dog, son of a dog, the Princess. Where is she?”

With a smile upon his pale face, Renny slowly raised his hand and pointed to the statue. Then suddenly as Bar turned, he sprang straight at the Memphite and struck, alas, in vain, for his dagger broke short off against Bar’s hidden leather corslet.

Realizing that his last moment had come, Renny slowly drew his long Asiatic sleeve across his bowed head. Motionless, he anticipated the arrow that trembled between the thumb and forefinger of one of the guardsmen who, at his sudden attack upon the Memphite, had moved up into the room.

The twang of the bow thrummed in his ears, and, with it, a choking sob and the thud of a falling body.

Quickly Renny threw aside the light covering from his face, dreading what his trembling heart too truly warned him he should see. With a cry of agony he dropped beside the limp body of the dead Bhanar. Gently he lifted her head, scanned her face, breathed her name. In vain! Too well had Wenamon’s arrow done its work! A few red feathers and an inch of reed showed just above the white robe of his little countrywoman. The rest of the long shaft was buried in her breast.

Renny rose slowly to his feet. His gaze swept the terrified archers to the threshold of the door. With a roar like that of some southern panther maddened with its wounds, once more he hurled himself upon the treacherous Bar.

His onslaught hurled the dagger from the nerveless hand of the horror-struck Memphite. For that worthy stood gazing, as if fascinated, at the upturned face of the dead Bhanar.

They grappled, tripped and fell, rolling over and over, now one seeming to gain the mastery, now the other. Above their writhing forms the archers awaited their opportunity.

Kneeling at the base of the pedestal the terrified little Princess alone made outcry, sending out upon the still evening air shriek upon shriek, intermingled with peals of frenzied laughter.

A slight lessening of the grip and Renny’s powerful hand stole towards Bar’s jeweled throat. A snap, a quiver of the big limbs and the Memphite lay motionless.

Renny staggered like a drunken man to his feet. Stealthily Wenamon the archer approached, with somewhat of the caution with which one might beard a wounded lion in its den. His bow had been cast aside. A dagger gleamed in his raised hand.

Renny’s swaying figure lurched heavily towards the statue of the Princess, to the base of which the Princess herself still clung. As his fingers gripped its flower-festooned base, Wenamon’s dagger flashed.

Renny suddenly straightened himself. His bloodshot eyes sought those of the Princess, who stood rooted to the spot.

“Sesen! Sesen,” he cried, and fell dead at her feet.