TUA FINDS HER LOVER
Rames it was without a doubt; Rames grown older and stern and sad of
face, but still Rames, and no other man, and oh! their eyes swam and
their hearts beat at the sight of him.
“Say, shall we declare ourselves?” asked Asti.
“Nay,” answered Tua, “not here and now. He would not believe, and we
cannot unveil before all these men. Also, first I desire to learn more.
Let him pass.”
Rames rode on till he came opposite to where the two women sat on their
white camels beneath a tree, when something seemed to attract his gaze
to them. He looked once carelessly and turned his head away. He looked a
second time, and again turned his head, though more slowly. He looked
a third time, and his eyes remained fixed upon those two veiled women
seated on their camels beneath the trees. Then, as though acting upon
some impulse, he pulled upon his horse’s bit, and rode up to them.
“Who are you, Stranger Ladies,” he asked, “who own such fine camels?”
Tua bowed her head that the folds of her veil might hide her shape, but
Asti answered in a feigned voice:
“Sir, both of us are merchants, and one is a harper and a singer.
We have travelled hither up the Nile to the Golden City because we
understand that in Napata pearls are rare, and such we have to sell.
Also we were told that the new King of this city loved good singing,
and my companion, who sings and harps, learned her art in Egypt, even at
Thebes the holy. But who are you, Sir, that question us?”
“Lady,” answered Rames, “I am an Egyptian who holds this town on behalf
of the Queen of Egypt whom once I knew. Or perhaps I should say that I
hold it on behalf of the Pharaoh of Egypt, since my spies tell me that
the Star of Amen has taken Abi, Prince of Memphis, to husband, although
they add that he finds her a masterful wife,” and he laughed bitterly.
“Sir,” replied Asti, “it is long since we left holy Thebes, some years
indeed, and we know nothing of these things, who ply our trade from
place to place. But if you are the governor of this town, show us, we
pray you, as countrywomen of yours, where we may lodge in safety, and
at your leisure this afternoon permit that we exhibit our pearls before
you, and when that is done, and you have bought or refused them, as you
may wish, that my companion should sing to you some of the ancient songs
of Egypt.”
“Ladies,” answered Rames, “I am a soldier who would rather buy swords
than pearls. Also, as it chances, I am a man who dwells alone, one
in whose household no women can be found. Yet because you are of my
country, or by Amen I know not why! I grant you your request. I go out
to exercise this company in the arts of war, but after sundown you shall
come to my palace, and I will see your wares and hear your songs. Till
then, farewell. Officer,” he added to a captain who had followed him,
“take these Egyptians and their camels and give them a lodging in the
guest-house, where they will not be molested, and at sundown bring them
to me.”
Then, still staring at them as though they held his eyes in their
hearts, Rames departed, and the captain led them to their lodging.
It was the hour of sundown, and Tua, adorned in beautiful white raiment,
broidered with royal purple, that she carried in her baggage on the
camel, with her long hair combed out and scented, a necklace of great
pearls upon her bosom, a veil flung over her head, and her harp of gold
and ivory in her hand, waited to be led before Rames. Asti, his mother,
waited also, but she was clad in a plain black robe, and over her
head was a black veil. Presently that captain who had shown them their
lodging, came to them and asked if they were ready to be led before the
Viceroy of Napata.
“Viceroy?” answered Asti, “I thought he was a King.”
“So he is, my good Woman,” replied the captain, “but it his fancy to
call himself the Viceroy of Neter-Tua, Star of Amen, wife of Abi the
Usurper who rules in Egypt. A mad fancy when he might be a Pharaoh on
his own account, but so it is.”
“Well, Sir,” said Asti, “we merchants have nothing to do with these high
matters; lead us to this Pharaoh, or General, or Viceroy, with whom we
hope to transact business.”
So the captain conducted them to a side gate of the palace, and thence
through various passages and halls, in some of which Tua recognised
officers of her own whom she had commanded to accompany Rames, to an
apartment of no great size, where he bade them be seated. Presently a
door opened, and through it came Rames, plainly dressed in the uniform
of an Egyptian general, on which they saw he wore no serpent crest
or other of the outward signs of royalty. Only on his right hand that
lacked the little finger, gleamed a certain royal ring, which Tua
knew. With him also were several captains to whom he talked of military
affairs.
Seeing the two women, he bowed to them courteously, and asked them to
forgive him for having kept them waiting for him. Then he said:
“What was it that you wished to show me, Ladies? Oh! I remember,
precious stones. Well, I fear me that you have brought them to a bad
market, seeing that although Napata is called the City of Gold, she
needs all her wealth for her own purposes, and I draw from it only a
general’s pay, and a sum for the sustenance of my household, which is
small. Still, let me look at your wares, for if I do not buy myself,
perhaps I may be able to find you a customer.”
Now when they saw the young man’s noble face and bearing, and heard his
simple words, the hearts of Asti and Tua, his mother and his love, beat
so hard within their breasts that for a while they could scarcely speak.
Glad were they, indeed, that the veils they wore hid their troubled
faces from his eyes, which, as in the morning, lingered on them
curiously.
At length, controlling herself with an effort, Asti answered:
“Perchance, Lord, the Great Lady your wife, or the ladies your
companions, will buy if you do not.”
“Have I not already told you, Merchant,” asked Rames angrily, “that I
have no wife, and no companions that are not men?”
“You said so, Sir,” she replied humbly, always speaking in her feigned
voice, “yet forgive us if we believed you not, since in our journeyings
my daughter and I have seen many princes, and know that such a thing is
contrary to their nature. Still we will show you our wares, for surely
all the men in Napata are not unmarried.”
Then, without more ado, she drew out a box of scented cedar and, opening
it, revealed a diadem of pearls worked into the shape of the royal
_uræus_, which they had fashioned thus at Tat, and also a few of their
largest single gems.
“Beautiful, indeed,” said Rames, looking at them, “though there is but
one who has the right to wear this crown, the divine Queen of the Upper
and the Lower Land,” and he sighed.
“Nay, Lord,” replied Asti, “for surely her husband might wear it also.”
“It would sit but ill on the fat head of Abi, from all I hear, Lady,” he
broke in, laughing bitterly.
“Or,” went on Asti, taking no heed of his words, “a general who had
conquered a great country could usurp it, and find none to reprove him,
especially if he himself happened to be of the royal blood.”
Now Rames looked at her sharply.
“You speak strange words,” he said, “but doubtless it is by chance.
Merchant, those pearls of yours are for richer men than I am, shut them
in the box again, and let the lady, your daughter, sing some old song of
Egypt, for such I long to hear.”
“So be it, Lord,” answered Asti. “Still, keep the diadem as a gift,
since it was made for you alone, and may yet be useful to you--who can
know? It is the price we pay for liberty to trade in your dominions.
Nay, unless you keep it my daughter shall not sing.”
“Let it lie there, then, most princely Merchant, and we will talk of the
matter afterwards. Now for the song.”
Then, her moment come at last, Tua stood up, and holding the ivory harp
beneath her veil, she swept its golden chords. Disguising her voice,
as Asti had done, she began to sing, somewhat low, a short and gentle
love-song, which soon came to an end.
“It is pretty,” said Rames, when she had finished, “and reminds me of
I know not what. But have you no fuller music at your command? If so, I
would listen to it before I bid you good-night.”
She bent her head and answered almost in a whisper:
“Lord, if you wish it, I will sing you the story of one who dared to
set his heart too high, and of what befell him at the hands of an angry
goddess.”
“Sing on,” he answered. “Once I heard such a story--elsewhere.”
Then Tua swept her harp and sang again, but this time with all her
strength and soul. As the first glorious notes floated from her lips
Rames rose from his seat, and stood staring at her entranced. On went
the song, and on, as she had sung it in the banqueting hall of Pharaoh
at Thebes, so she sang it in the chamber of Rames at Napata. The scribe
dared the sanctuary, the angry goddess smote him cold in death, the
high-priestess wailed and mourned, the Queen of Love relented, and gave
him back his life again. Then came that last glorious burst when, lifted
up to heaven, the two lovers, forgiven, purged, chanted their triumph to
the stars, and, by slow degrees, the music throbbed itself to silence.
Look! white-faced, trembling, Rames clung to a pillar in his chamber,
while Tua sank back upon her chair, and the harp she held slipped from
her hand down upon the floor.
“Whence came that harp?” he gasped. “Surely there are not two such in
the world? Woman, you have stolen it. Nay, how can you have stolen the
music, and the voice as well? Lady, forgive me, I have no thought of
evil, but oh! grant me a boon. Why, I will tell you afterwards. Grant me
a boon--let me look upon your face.”
Tua lifted her hands, and undid the fastening of her veil, which slipped
from her to her feet, showing her in the rich array of a prince of
Egypt. His eyes met her beautiful eyes, and for a while they gazed upon
each other like folk who dream.
“What trick is this?” he said angrily at last. “Before me stands the
Star of Amen, Egypt’s anointed Queen. The harp she bears was the royal
gift of the Prince of Kesh, he who fell that night beneath my sword. The
voice is Egypt’s voice, the song is Egypt’s song. Nay, how can it be?
I am mad, you are magicians come to mock me, for that Star, Amen’s
daughter, reigns a thousand miles away with the lord she chose, Abi, her
own uncle, he who, they say, murdered Pharaoh. Get you gone, Sorceress,
lest I cause the priests of Amen, whereof you also make a mock, to cast
you to the flames for blasphemy.”
Slowly, very slowly, Tua opened the wrappings about her throat,
revealing the Sign of Life that from her birth was stamped above her
bosom.
“When they see this holy mark, think you that the priests of Amen will
cast me to the flames, O Royal Son of Mermes?” asked Tua softly.
“Why not?” he answered. “If you have power to lie in one thing, you have
power to lie in all. She who can steal the loveliness of Egypt’s self,
can also steal the signet of the god.”
“Say, did you, O Rames, also steal that other signet on your hand, a
Queen’s gift, I think, that once a Pharaoh wore? Say also how did you
lose the little finger of that hand? Was it perchance in the maw of a
certain god that dwells in the secret pool of a temple at holy Thebes?”
So Tua spake, and waited a while, but Rames said nothing. He opened his
mouth to answer, indeed, but a dumbness sealed his lips.
“Nurse,” she went on presently, “I cannot persuade this Lord that I am
Egypt and no other. Try you.”
So Asti loosed her black veil, and let it fall about her feet. He stared
at her noble features and grey hair, then, uttering a great cry of
“Mother, my Mother, who they swore to me was dead in Memphis,” he flung
himself upon her breast, and there burst into weeping.
“Aye, Rames,” said Asti presently, “your Mother, she who bore you, and
no other woman, and with her one who because her royal heart loves you
now as from the first, from moon to moon for two whole years has braved
the dangers of the desert, and of wicked men, till at last Amen her
father brings her safely to your side. Now do you believe?”
“Aye,” answered Rames, “I believe.”
“Then, O faithful Captain,” said Tua, “take this gift from Egypt’s
Queen, which a while ago you thrust aside, and be its Lord and mine,”
and lifting the diadem of pearls crested with the royal _uræi_ she set
it on his brow, as once before she had done in that hour of dawn when
she vowed herself to him in Thebes.
It was night, and all their wonderful story had been told.
“Such is our tale, Rames my Son,” said Asti, “and long may you search
before you find another that will match it. Now tell us yours.”
“It is short, Mother,” he answered. “Obeying the commands of her Majesty
yonder,” and he bowed towards Tua, who sat at the further side of the
table at which they ate, “I travelled up the Nile to this city. As
the old king, the father of the Prince of Kesh, would have slain me I
attacked him first by the help of my Egyptians and his own subjects,
and--well, he died. Moreover, none regretted him, for he was a bad
king, and I stepped into his place, and ever since have been engaged in
righting matters which they needed. Long ago I would have returned
to Egypt and reported myself, only my spies told me of all that had
happened there. They told me, for instance, of the murder of Pharaoh,
by the witchcraft of Abi and his companions; and they told me that
Pharaoh’s daughter, the Star of Amen, forgetting all things and the oath
she swore to me, had married her old uncle Abi that she might save her
life and power.”
“And you believed them, Rames?” asked Tua reproachfully.
“What else could I do but believe, Lady, seeing that those same spies
swore that they had seen your Majesty seated upon your throne at
Memphis, and elsewhere, and causing Abi to run to and fro like a little
dog, and do your bidding in all things? How could I know that it was
your Double, and not yourself that married Abi?”
“I think that Abi knows to-day,” answered Tua, “since it seems that a Ka
makes but a bad wife to any man. But now what shall we do?”
“Will you not first marry me, Lady?” suggested Rames. “Afterwards, we
can think.”
“Aye,” she answered, “I will marry you as I have promised, but in one
place only, the temple of Amen in Egypt. First win me back my throne,
then ask for my hand.”
“It shall be done,” he answered, “though how I know not, seeing that
another sits upon that throne of yours, who, perhaps, will not be
willing to bid it farewell.”
“We will send her a message, Son,” said Asti. “Now leave us, for we must
sleep.”
“Where is your messenger, Mother?” asked Rames as he went.
“Have you known me all these years, my Son, and not learned that I have
servants whom you cannot see?” answered Asti.
It was midnight, and in their chamber of the palace of Rames, Asti and
Tua knelt side by side in prayer to Amen, Father of the Gods. Then,
their petitions finished, Asti rose to her feet, and once again, as in
the pylon tower at Memphis, uttered the awful words that in bygone days
had been spoken to her by the spirit of Ahura the divine in Osiris.
There was a sound as of whispering, a sound as of beating wings. Lo!
in the shadow beyond the lamplight a mist gathered that brightened by
degrees and took shape, the shape of a royal woman clad in the robes
and ornaments of Egypt’s Queen, whose face was as the face of Neter-Tua,
only prouder and more unearthly. In silence it stood before them
scanning them with its glittering eyes.
“Whence come you, O Double?” asked Asti.
“From that place where your command found me, O Mistress of Secret
Things, from the house of Abi at Thebes, wherein he seems to rule as
Pharaoh,” the Form answered in its cold voice.
“How fares it with Abi and with Egypt, O Double?”
“With Abi it fares but ill; he wastes in toil and fear and longings,
and knows no happy hour. But with Egypt it fares well. Never, O Lady
of Strength, was she more great than she is to-day, for in all things I
have fulfilled the commandments that were laid upon me, and now I desire
to rest in that bosom whence I came,” and she pointed to Tua, who stood
and watched.
“Not yet, O Double, for there is still work for you to do, and then you
shall be at peace till the day of the last Awakening. Hearken: Return
to Thebes, and tell a false tale in the ears of Abi and his councillors.
Say that Rames the Egyptian, who has seized the rule of Kesh, has
declared himself Pharaoh of Egypt by right of race, and your husband
by the promise of him who ruled before you whom Abi did to death. Cause
this Abi to gather a great army, and to march southward to make an end
of Rames. But secretly whisper into the ears of the generals of this
army, that it is true the divine Pharaoh who is gone promised you in
marriage to Rames with your own consent, and by the command of Amen,
Father of the Gods, and of your Spirit. Whisper to them that Amen is
wrath with Abi because of his crime, as he will show them in due season,
and that those who rebel against him shall have his love and favour. At
the Gateway of the South, whence the Nile rushes northward between great
walls of rock, Rames shall meet the army of Abi. With him will come her
of whom you are, and I whom you must obey; also perchance another who
is greater than all of us. There at the Gateway of the South your task
shall be accomplished, and you shall find the rest you seek. It is
said.”
“I hear the command, and it shall be done,” answered the Ka in its cold,
passionless voice. “Only, Lady of the Secrets, Doer of the Will Divine,
delay not, lest, outworn, I should break back like a flame to yonder
breast that is my home, slaying as I come, and leaving wreck behind me.”
Then as the figure had appeared, so also it disappeared, growing faint
by degrees, and vanishing away into the night out of which it came.
It was morning at Thebes, and Abi sat in the great hall of Pharaoh
transacting business of the State, while at his side stood Kaku the
Vizier. Changed were both of them, indeed, since they had plotted the
death of their guest and king at Memphis, for now Abi was so worn with
work and fear and wretchedness, that his royal robes hung about him in
loose folds, while Kaku had become an old, old man, who trembled as he
walked.
“Is the business finished, Officer?” asked Abi impatiently.
“Nay, Mighty Lord,” answered Kaku, “there is still enough to keep you
sitting here till noon, and after that you must receive the Council and
the Embassies.”
“I will not receive them. Let them wait till another day. Knave, would
you work me to death, who have never known an hour’s rest or peace since
the happy time when I ruled as Prince of Memphis?”
“Lord,” answered Kaku, bowing humbly, “weary or no you must receive
them, for so it has been decreed by her Majesty the Queen, whose command
may not be broken.”
“The Queen!” exclaimed Abi in a low voice, rolling his hollow eyes
around him as though in fear. “Oh, Kaku, would that I had never beheld
the Queen. I tell you that she is not a woman, as indeed you know well,
but a fiend with a heart of ice, and the venomous cunning of a snake. I
am called Pharaoh, yet am but her puppet to carry out her decrees. I am
called her husband, yet she is still no wife to me, or to any, although
all men love her, and by that love are ofttimes brought to doom. Last
night again she vanished from my side as I sat listening to her orders,
and after a while, lo! there she was as before, only, as it seemed to
me, somewhat weary. I asked her where she had been and she answered:
‘Further than I could travel in a year to visit one she loved as much as
she hated me. Now who can that be, Kaku?’”
“Rames, I think, Lord, he who has made himself King of Kesh,” replied
Kaku in an awed whisper. “Without a doubt she loved the man when she was
a woman, though whom she loves now the evil gods know alone. We are in
her power, and must work her will, for, Lord, if we do not we shall die,
and I think that neither of us desires to die, since beyond that gate
dead Pharaoh waits for us.”
At these words Abi groaned aloud, wiping the sweat from his blanched
face with the corner of his robe, and saying:
“There you speak truly. Go, call the scribes, and let us get on with the
Queen’s business.”
Kaku turned to obey, when suddenly heralds entered the empty hall,
crying:
“Her Majesty the Queen waits without with a great company, and humbly
craves audience of her good lord, the divine Pharaoh of the Upper and
the Lower Land.”
Abi and Kaku looked at each other, and despair was in their eyes.
“Let her Majesty enter,” said the King in a low voice.
The heralds retired, and presently through the cedar doors appeared
the Queen in state. She was splendid to behold, splendid in her proud
beauty, splendid in her dress, and in her royal ornaments. On she swept
up the hall, attended by Merytra, who bore her fan and cushion, for
it was her pleasure that this woman should wait upon her day and night
without pause or rest, although she who had once been so handsome now
was worn almost to nothingness with toil and terror. Behind Merytra came
guards and high-priests, and after them the great lords of the Council,
who were called the King’s Companions and the generals of the army.
On she swept up the hall till reaching the foot of the throne whereon
Abi sat, she motioned to Merytra to place the cushion upon its step, and
knelt, saying:
“I am come as a loyal wife to make a humble prayer to Pharaoh my Lord in
the presence of his Court.”
“Rise and speak on, Great Lady,” answered Abi. “It is not fit that you
should kneel to me.”
“Nay, it is most fit that Pharaoh’s Queen should kneel to Pharaoh when
she seeks his divine favour.” Yet she rose, and, seating herself in a
chair that had been brought, spoke thus:
“O Pharaoh, last night I dreamed a dream. I dreamed of the Count Rames,
son of Mermes, the last of that royal race which ruled before our House
in Egypt. I mean that man who slew the Prince of Kesh in this very hall,
and whom, my Father being sick, I sent to Napata, to be judged by
the King of Kesh, but who, it seems, overthrew that king and took his
kingdom in the name of Egypt.
“I dreamed that this bold and able man, not satisfied with the rich
kingdom of Kesh, has made a scheme to attack Egypt; to slay you, most
glorious Lord, to proclaim himself Pharaoh by right of ancient blood,
and more--to take me, your faithful wife, to be his wife, and thereby
secure his throne.”
“Without doubt, Queen, this turbulent Rames might think of such
things,” said Abi, “and so far your dream may be true; yet it should
be remembered that at present he is at Napata, which is a very long way
off, and has probably only a small army at his command, so why should
you trouble about what he thinks?”
“O Pharaoh, that was not all my dream, for in it I saw two pictures. The
first was of this bold Rames attacking Thebes, and conquering it, yes,
and dragging me away to be his wife over your very corpse, O Pharaoh.
The second was of you and your army meeting him at the Gate of the South
Land, and slaying him, and taking possession of the kingdom of Kesh, and
its golden city, and ruling them for Egypt, until you die.”
“Here be two dreams, O Queen,” said Abi. “Tell us now, which would you
follow, for both of them cannot be right?”
“How can I know, Pharaoh, and how can you know? Yet by your side stands
one who will know, for he is the first of magicians, and a chosen
interpreter of the heart of the gods. Grant that he may make this matter
clear,” and she pointed to Kaku, who stood by the throne.
“Divine Lady,” stammered Kaku, “the thing is too high for me. I have no
message, I cannot tell you----”
“You were ever over-modest, Kaku,” said the Queen. “Command him, O
Pharaoh, to shed the light of his wisdom on us, for without doubt he
knows the truth.”
“Yes, yes,” said Abi, “he knows it, he knows everything. Kaku, delay
not, interpret the dream of her Majesty.”
“I cannot, I will not,” spluttered the old astrologer. “Ask my wife, the
Lady Merytra there, she is wiser than I am.”
“My good friend Merytra has already told me her mind,” said the Queen,
“now we wait for yours. A prophet must speak when the gods call on him,
or,” she added slowly, “he must cease to be a prophet who betrays the
gods by hiding their high counsel.”
Now Kaku could find no way of escape, so, since he feared the very name
of Rames, within himself he determined that he would interpret the
dream in the sense that Pharaoh should await the attack of this Rames at
Thebes, and while every ear listened to him, thus began his tale. Yet as
he spoke he felt the glittering eyes of that spirit who was called the
Queen, fix themselves upon him and compel his tongue, so that he said
just what he did not mean to say.
“A light shines in me,” he cried, “and I see that the second vision of
her Majesty is the true vision. You must go up with your army to the
Gate of the South, O Pharaoh, and there meet this usurper, Rames, that
these matters may be brought to their appointed end.”
“Their appointed end? What appointed end?” shouted Abi.
“Doubtless that which her Majesty dreamed,” answered Kaku. “At least,
it is laid upon me to tell you that you must go up to the Gate of the
South.”
“Then I wish that the Gate of the South were laid upon you also, O Evil
Prophet,” exclaimed Abi. “For two years only have I ruled in Egypt, and
lo! three wars have been my portion, a war against the people of Syria,
a war against the desert men, and a war against the Nine Bow barbarians
that invaded the Low Lands. Must I now, in my age, undertake another war
against the terrible sons of Kesh also? Let this dog, Rames, come, if
come he will, and I will hang him here at the gates of Thebes.”
“Nay, nay, O Pharaoh,” replied Kaku, “it is laid upon me to tell you
that you must hang him in the desert hundreds of miles away from Thebes.
That is the interpretation of the vision; that is the command of the
gods.”
“The gods have spoken by the mouth of their prophet,” cried the Queen in
a thrilling, triumphant voice. “Now Pharaoh, Priests, Councillors, and
Captains of Egypt, let us make ready to travel to the Gate of the South,
and there hang the dog Rames in the desert land, that thus Egypt and
Egypt’s King and Egypt’s Queen may be freed from danger, and rest in
peace, and the wealth of the City of Gold be divided amongst you all.”
“Aye, aye,” answered the Priests, Councillors, and Captains, the shrill
voice of Kaku leading the chorus, still against his will, “let us go up
at once, and let her Majesty accompany us.”
“Yes,” said the Queen, “I will accompany you, for though I be but a
woman, shall I shrink from what Pharaoh, my dear Lord, dares? We will
sail at the new moon.”
That night Abi and Kaku stood face to face.
“What is this that you have done?” asked Abi. “Do you not remember the
words which dead Pharaoh spoke in the awful vision that came to me that
night at Memphis, when he bade me take the Royal Loveliness which I
desired to be my wife? Do you not remember that he bade me also reign
in her right until I met ‘one Rames, Son of Mermes’ and with him a
Beggar-man who is charged with another message for me?”
“I remember,” answered Kaku in a hollow voice.
“What, then, is this message, Man, that will come from Rames or the
Beggar? Is it not the message of my death and yours, of us whose tombs
were finished but yesterday?”
“It may be so, Lord.”
“Then why did you interpret the dream of the Queen in the sense that I
must hurry southwards to meet this very Rames--and my doom?”
“Because I could not help it,” groaned Kaku. “That spirit who is called
a Queen compelled me. Abi, there is no escape for us; we are in the net
of Fate--unless, unless you dare----” and he looked meaningly at the
sword that hung by Pharaoh’s side.
“Nay, Kaku,” he answered, “I dare not. Let us live while we may, knowing
what awaits us beyond the gate.”
“Aye,” moaned Kaku, “beyond the Gate of the South, where we shall find
Rames the Avenger, and that Beggar who is charged with a message for
us.”