# The Gates of Kamt/Chapter 16
### CHAPTER XVI DIVINELY FAIR

I had failed to notice, in my anxiety for the Pharaoh, how the two royal ladies had greeted one another; but now, at the gorgeous banquet with which our young hostess made us welcome in her palace, I saw that the Princess sat beside the Queen, and that she had commanded her torch-bearers to stand close behind her, so as to throw a flood of light upon herself and her royal guest. The two women were a strange contrast—both beautiful beyond the average: one in all the pomp and magnificence of her regal attire, and the voluptuous charm of her mature beauty; the other in something white and clinging, with no crown save that of her ardent hair, no ornament save that of her own youth.
On luxurious couches, covered with white and silver hangings, we all reclined round the table, on which were spread the most wonderful and aromatic delicacies this lavish land could produce: peacocks' tongues and eggs of rare birds, petals of roses and lilies cooked in honey, and great crystal goblets filled with the rich wine of the soil—both red and white. All the while sweet little musicians crouched in various corners beside their tall crescent-shaped harps and sang us sweet songs while we supped, and pretty waitresses tempted us with dainty morsels.
The beautiful white panther lay at the feet of Neit-akrit, and she fed him with dates and figs, which she held for him between her teeth. The powerful creature would take the fruit from her lips as gently as a bird. ​Hugh and I sat opposite to her. It was impossible not to admire the beautiful girl before us, the most exquisite product of this lovely, exotic land. There was a magnetic charm about every one of her movements which recalled those of the panther beside her. After the first five minutes she had wrought hideous havoc in my dull old heart, and I was suddenly assailed with the wild temptation to make an egregious ass of myself. I was quite annoyed with Hugh that he did not seem very enthusiastic about her: he was surveying her as critically as he would have viewed a newly-unearthed mummy.
"Isn't she lovely, Girlie?" I contrived to whisper once during the banquet.
He did not reply, but with an inward smile, which made his eyes twinkle with merriment, he quietly slipped his hand beneath his cloak and drew out a tiny box which he handed over to me. It contained the iridescent scarabaæus, of which the little midnight swimmer had said that it would prove a subtle charm against Neit-akrit's beauty.
"Don't you want it?" I whispered again, astonished.
He shook his head, still smiling, and at that moment I looked up and saw Neit-akrit's eyes, more blue and iridescent than the beetle's wings, gazing across at Hugh with a strange, inquiring expression.
"What a beautiful jewel!" she said. Then, with the gesture of a spoilt child, "Wilt thou let me look at it?"
"Nay, Princess, it is no jewel," said Hugh, hiding the box again under his mantle, "and thou must forgive if I cannot allow even thy dainty fingers to touch it. It is a charm and its subtle virtue might vanish."
"A charm? Against what?"
"Against many serious evils and many grievous sins."
​"I do not understand."
"I brought it with me from the foot of the throne of Ra, where a poor wandering soul, who had sinned deeply and suffered much, gave it to me when he knew that I was about to dwell among the fairest of the daughters of Kamt, so that it might preserve me from the same sin and the same suffering."
"But wilt thou not tell me what those sins and those sufferings are?"
"Nay! thou art too young to understand, but I will tell thee the name of the wandering soul who gave me the blue charm. He was a sculptor, far famed in ancient Kamt, and his name was Amen-het."
I gave Hugh a violent nudge, for I felt very much annoyed with him. To put it mildly, it was a singular want of good manners to rake up the terribly sad story of Amen-het, the sculptor, while partaking of the Princess's lavish hospitality. Amen-het had undoubtedly been a fool, and was punished for his folly according to the barbarous law of this beautiful country; but since time immemorial men have committed follies of the worst kind for women far less attractive and fascinating than was the Princess Neit-akrit.
To begin with, she was very young; she may, in a moment of thoughtlessness, have expressed a vague wish to possess some lamps similar in design to those which burned in the sanctuary of Ra. The sculptor, like a fool, took her at her word and went there, where all the people of Kamt are strictly forbidden to go, within the inner sanctuary of the temple. Surely she could not be blamed for his folly, and no doubt she had suffered horribly when …
But at this point my brief reflections were interrupted by Princess Neit-akrit's voice, truly the most melodious sound I had ever heard.
​"How strange," she was saying, while her blue eyes gazed as innocently as before, as unconcernedly across at Hugh. "I knew a sculptor once whose name was Amen-het, but he offended the gods by his presumption, and I know not what punishment they meted out to him. Perhaps it was his soul which thou didst meet before the judgment-seat of Osiris, oh, thou who sittest at the foot of His throne!"
"Perhaps it was. In that case the blue charm will save me from Amen-het's presumption, and from the punishment meted out to him by the gods—for that was terrible!"
"Poor Amen-het," she said sweetly, "I spoke to him once or twice. He was a clever sculptor."
"But was too presumptuous, as thou sayest," said Hugh, who seemed suddenly to have grown irritable. "I saw him before he was quite ready to stand before Osiris. His flesh had withered on his bones, his voice was choked within his throat, burning hunger and thirst had made a beast of him, and the carrion had begun to gnaw his living flesh."
"Poor Amen-het," she repeated, and she selected a large juicy date from the dish, and, holding it between her tiny sharp teeth, she called to her white panther, and the graceful, feline creature, as quiet as a kitten, took the ripe fruit from between her dainty lips.
I could see that Hugh was strangely irritated. He remained silent during the rest of the feast, in spite of the fact that the Queen made every effort to rouse him from his silence. As usual, the Pharaoh reclined, surly and silent, on his couch, which had been covered with a cloth of gold; obedient to my suggestion, he was taking only milk and left all the delicious fruit untasted. He avoided looking at the Princess or at Hugh; only ​when the story of Amen-het had been recounted, he laughed satirically to himself.
Long after every one had retired and the fairy palace was wrapped in sleep, Hugh and I wandered beneath the gigantic overhanging fuchsia trees. It was a beautiful night and we were both singularly wakeful. The lake lay peaceful in the moonlight and, descending the great steps to the foot of the sphinxes, we found a small boat moored close to our hand. Though the crescent-shaped little crafts are very difficult to manage at first, we enjoyed a row all round the beautiful island, which seemed like the enchanted domain of a fairy princess. Beneath the trees large white peacocks slept, their tails shimmering like streams of diamonds, while in the branches myriads of birds had built their nests. We disturbed a troop of white gazelles from their sleep in the tall grass and a family of marmosets in the branches of the doum; golden tench and carp swam all round our boat, not the least frightened at the clap of the oars, and opening their mouths for a crumb.
We did not speak much, and then only about the beautiful dumb objects round us. I must confess that a strange love for this picturesque land was beginning to entwine itself round my heart, and as our boat glided so peacefully between the large clumps of lotus and water-lilies, I liked to feel that all this beauty, this peace, this poetry was truly my own. Busy Europe, with its politics, its squabbles, its socialism, its trades-unions and workingmen's clubs, seemed altogether another world now, different and unreal; even the old Chestnuts was becoming a dream, beside the glorious visions of marble terraces and alabaster halls which had become so real.
For once in my life I was not in complete harmony with Hugh. I wanted to talk of our journey, our ​poetic arrival, of our fair young hostess, with her large innocent eyes and her pet white panther; but he seemed moody, and I felt that my enthusiasm for beautiful Neit-akrit would not find an echo in his heart.
The first streak of dawn was visible in the east when we reached the palace steps again, tired yet refreshed with the midnight trip on the lake.
Our sandals made no noise on the white marble steps, and we kept in the shadow of the parapet, for we had no wish to be mistaken for midnight prowlers and rouse the slaves who guarded the palace.
All the lights had been put out, only the gilt roof glittered beneath the sinking rays of the moon. We skirted the palace, for the rooms which had been assigned to us opened out on to the broad terrace overlooking a garden of white roses. We were about to cross the garden, when suddenly Hugh put a hand on my arm and pointed to the terrace. Between the pillars which formed the entrance to our bedroom a figure stood holding back the heavy curtain. We could only see the graceful outline, clear and sharp against the bright light which burned within.
"Who is it?" I whispered.
"The Princess," replied Hugh, as the figure detached itself from the gateway and glided slowly and cautiously across the terrace in the ghostlike, roseate light of dawn.
It was indeed the Princess Neit-akrit, alone and unattended; she had wrapped a veil close round her figure, but her head was bare, and the colour of her hair was unmistakable.
She came straight towards us and presently caught sight of us both. She stopped, looking round her as if she wished to flee, then she put a finger to her mouth and came up quite close to Hugh.
​"Hush!" she whispered. "Dost wonder, I know, to see me here alone at this hour, without even Sen-tur by my side. And yet I came because I wished to speak to thee alone."
"Thou dost indeed honour me," said Hugh, quietly, while I made a discreet movement to retire.
"Tell thy counsellor he need not go," she said. "I know that thou and he are one, and I am not ashamed of that which I would say."
"Wilt go within then, Princess? The morning is cold."
"Nay! what I would say will not take long; yet I could not sleep till I had told it thee. The night seemed oppressive. I wandered into the garden, and Isis led my steps to thy church. I thought thou wast asleep, and that I would sit beside thee, not waking thee, yet telling thee of this thing which lies so heavy on my heart. I thought to whisper it gently lest thou wake, to murmur it so that thou, half dreaming, shouldst hear my voice, and hearing it, dream on."
She certainly had that indefinable charm—an exquisite voice—and both Hugh and I listened to her strange words, charmed by its sweet-sounding melody.
"Nay, Princess," said Hugh, as she had paused; "sweet as the dream would have been then, I much prefer the reality, and as long as thou wilt speak I will listen."
"I came to tell thee … that …"
There was a little catch in her throat, but she tried to conquer her emotion and put out both her hands in a pretty, almost childlike appeal.
"Ah, I know! some one has told thee evil of me, and I longed to speak to thee … about … about Amen-het.… They told thee that I am vain and ​cruel … but … but … wilt believe me if I say … that I am beset with calumnies … and …"
Hugh came a little closer and took one of her tiny, trembling hands in his, and there was no doubt that in his voice, too, there was a slight catch.
"Sweet Princess," he said gently, "believe me when I say that I have heard no calumny about thee which thy presence hath not by now dispelled."
She turned her face fully up to his and asked:
"Dost truly mean what thou sayest?"
"I swear it," he said earnestly.
"Nay! I will believe thee, for thou art great and good. I will believe thee if thou wilt look straight into mine eyes and if thou wilt kiss me between the brows, in token that thou art my friend."
She raised herself on tiptoe, for Hugh Tankerville is very tall, and British, and stiff-backed. There was a curious, half-dazed look in his eyes as he looked down at the sweet face turned up to his. The veil had slipped down from her shoulders. The quaint Egyptian kalasiris, half transparent and clinging, gave her young figure the appearance of one of those precious idols which are preserved in European museums. A perfume of lotus blossom seemed to emanate from her, and about her whole being there was an exquisite savour of poetry and mysticism, mingled with truly human, charming womanhood.
For that brief moment I felt wildly, madly, stupidly jealous, and at the same time enraged with Hugh, who seemed to me so cold and impassive, when I would have given … well! … a great deal to stand in his place. At last he bent his tall six feet two inches and gave the kiss as she had begged.
The next instant she was gone and I had dragged ​Hugh away into our own room. A penetrating scent of lotus blossoms seemed entirely to fill it, and as we raised a lamp over our heads we saw that Hugh's couch was one vast bower of the sweet blooms, covering pillow and coverlet; but from the table where he had put it before we strolled out earlier in the evening, the iridescent scarabæus, which was to guard him against the magic of Neit-akrit's beauty, had disappeared.