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.