In his wooing of the Lady Sesen, Menna, son of Menna, worked tirelessly. Menna had been born upon the fifth of Paophi, and who does not know that a child born upon that auspicious day is ever successful in affairs of the heart!

Following his gift to her of Bhanar, the beautiful Syrian, each day brought to Sesen bunches of grapes, bursting pomegranates or succulent dates from Menna’s famous gardens. Frequently there were left at her door bags of powdered gold or lazuli for the floor of her rooms, or the choicest of fragrant oils and perfumes for her toilet. These last were sealed in little jars of rich blue glass or in black obsidian vases capped with gold.

To-day Sesen opened an ebony coffer richly inlaid with ivory and gold. Enclosed within she found a frail wooden spoon, an incense spoon, carved to represent a little maiden stretched at full length in the attitude of a swimmer. The names and titles of Menna, the Overseer, appeared upon this exquisite work of art, yet, if truth be told, Renny the Syrian had fashioned it.

As with Menna’s other gifts, a closely written sheet of fine papyrus accompanied the gift, whereon Sesen read of Menna’s passionate desire for a meeting. Enana had advised her to fan the flame of Menna’s passion for reasons he kept to himself. What would he say to this effusion!

The lines were written alternately in letters of red and black:

With a frown Sesen tore the note into little pieces and went on with her interrupted game of draughts with Merit-aton, Pharaoh’s eldest daughter.

Until Menna had stumbled upon Renny, the Syrian, hawking his despised figurines in the inhospitable streets of Thinis, Beq, an Egyptian sculptor attached to his house, had served Menna the Overseer as messenger.

For Menna, when not on duty at the Palace, was accustomed to rise late. Menna’s mornings were spent at the bath. Indeed, it not infrequently happened that the sun had begun his downward flight across the heavens before the lordly Overseer had succeeded in escaping from the ministrations of his slaves.

For several hours he must perforce suffer the attentions of his body-servants, his wig-keeper, sandal-bearer, perfumer, and the keeper of his jewels.

Thus, one stalwart Ethiopian, having finished rubbing his handsome frame with aromatic oils, another slipped about him the tunic and over-dress of the day. And what to an ordinary mortal constituted a tight tunic, appeared to Benkhu, the Prince’s body-servant, positively loose and ill-fitting.

And since Menna affected extremes, his tunic fitted far more closely, his voluminous and richly plaited over-dress swung out in far more ample folds, than those of any other of the foppish members of the Theban Court.

Indeed, Menna left Benkhu’s nimble fingers dressed as few others of the courtiers could be dressed.

His costuming completed, Menna listened to the reports of his farm overseers, and to those of his spies both of court, bazaar and temple. For Menna, though outwardly faithful to Aton, still continued to hold the honorific post of Scribe of the Estates of Amen.

His business attended to, Menna essayed a game of draughts with one of his friends, or rowed about the lake in Thi’s pleasure-barge. It was the policy of Menna never to be far from Thi, the Queen-Mother.

When Renny, the Syrian, had been enrolled among the retainers of Menna, the Overseer had affected to see much of him. He went to the length of separating Renny from Beq and the native Egyptian craftsmen attached to his house. He even provided Renny with a studio to himself.

To this workshop Menna himself would come at times, ostensibly to seek instruction in modeling, sculpture and wood-carving. As a matter of fact his visits were prompted by the desire to use Renny and his art as in former times he had that of Beq and the native craftsmen.

Renny fell in with this whim of his powerful patron. Many a minor ornament, such as a small lotus bowl, incense-spoon or sacred image, had Renny produced, without neglecting to leave some slight detail for the handsome Overseer to finish. Renny’s artistic productions Menna incontinently made his own, adding his name and titles together with the date of its completion.

Coming from the hand of such a critical student of the arts, these small, but ever choice mementoes were eagerly sought at Court. No one doubted but that they were the work of the gifted Overseer himself.

Of late gifts and mementoes of this sort had suddenly ceased to materialize, and Menna, taxed with laziness by his friends at Court, gave it to be understood that a far more important undertaking now engaged his time. But the true reason of the present inaction of the Overseer was due to Renny, the Syrian.

That unhappy youth, in his constant visits to the Palace to deliver his masters’ gifts and notes to Sesen, had seen all too much of the beautiful Princess.

Yet, a single visit, and that his first, had proved more than enough to cause the beauty-loving Renny to come beneath the spell of Sesen’s haunting loveliness.

Do what he would to conceal his senseless passion, Renny felt that the fire at his heart would mount to his eyes, the surging blood, that seemed ever about to burst his heart, would flame into his cheeks.

At one moment Renny soared into the highest heavens; the next found him plunged into the gloomiest despair. He, an unknown sculptor, a despised foreigner, dared to lift his eyes to an exalted lady of the Egyptian Court!

Knowing too well the hopelessness of his present position, Renny sought to hide his passion.

Unluckily for the distracted sculptor, his burning hand had come in contact with the tapering fingers of the Princess.

Straightway Renny had thrown himself upon his knees and poured out to her startled ears the torrent of passionate words which had so long trembled upon his lips. Renny lost his head; his discretion vanished to the four winds of Heaven.

Sesen gazed down at the bowed head of the young sculptor in utter bewilderment. She could not have said whether she was more surprised, angered or amused. She clapped her hands twice; she would hand him to the guards. Yet, as the archers appeared from behind the columns of the courtyard, she changed her mind. A sudden wave of tenderest sympathy for Bhanar swept over the Princess. So it was not Bhanar he had sought so eagerly. Her heart ached for the quiet little maid standing so still and mute behind her. She turned to Bhanar:

“So this is that Renny, the Incomparable, of whom thou hast so often spoken, my Bhanar! Dare men so address a Princess of the Blood in thine own country and live? Like master, like man!”

Renny leaped to his feet, his face aflame with various emotions, amongst which wounded pride, perhaps was not the least.

“Lady! Since when is it considered a deed ill-done that a man should speak the love and reverence which he bears a maid? The mirror in thy hand should tell thee that few could look upon a face so fair, a form that Hathor’s self must envy, and not be stricken with that malady which not even the King’s physician hath power to cure! That I love thee I cannot help. My heart beats to thoughts of thee; thy image is stamped upon my very eyes!

“As to my master, the Lord Menna, I serve the Prince from gratitude. He found me well nigh starving in the streets of Thinis and gave me food and shelter. All my work he purchased and put me in the place of Beq, a sculptor whose work is excellent, according to your Egyptian standard. His portrait of thee I myself have much admired.

“Yet, Most Beautiful, ’tis not thee! ’Twould answer as well for any Lady of the Court. Were I to model thee, Fragrance of the Gods, thou shouldst see a living, breathing ‘double’ of thyself, thy very ka in stone. This I could prove to thee as could no other.”

During this conversation Bhanar had continued to ply the ostrich-feather fan above her mistress’s head. Anguish for Renny, pity for herself, showed in her beautiful eyes.

Sesen’s heart bled for her. Sesen knew Bhanar’s history well. Bhanar never tired of talking about her beloved village, of her dear Rippa, nestled among the distant Syrian hills.

The little Princess had soon perceived that Bhanar’s girlish love for her childhood’s companion had ripened into something stronger.

She had soon noticed how artfully Bhanar managed to forestall Sesen’s other maids whenever Renny’s name was announced by the usher.

Renny’s joy and relief at finding her in the household of the Princess had been genuine, since for a time, he had felt that he and Yakab had failed her. Thereafter, at each and every visit to the Palace, he had quite naturally sought his beautiful countrywoman. He knew that through her he would the more readily reach the lady of his master’s infatuation.

Renny had strict orders to deliver his master’s notes into the hand of Sesen in person. This at first he could never have accomplished, had it not been for Bhanar’s assistance.

This insistence of Renny to reach her through Bhanar alone Sesen had misinterpreted.

Then came that fatal day when Bhanar listened to Renny as he poured out his tale of love for her mistress. Bhanar’s heart seemed to stop its beating. From that moment she realized that she loved Renny with all the love that he—that he, alas, felt for Sesen, her mistress.

At this moment an agonizing sympathy for Renny seemed to freeze her heart. She knew that Renny at best did but provide distraction for the Princess. And now, in this statue of which he talked, Renny held out still further hopes of diversion. From her frequent visits to Enana’s villa, Bhanar knew that the absent Ramses was ever in Sesen’s mind, though never once had the little maid referred to him. In vain had she confided her knowledge of the mutual love of Sesen and Ramses to the unheeding Renny.

Sesen turned from the sculptor as if to leave. At the threshold of the steps she paused for a moment:

“Syrian, if you can indeed model such a portrait as that of which you speak, gladly will I purchase it of thee, and with it thy freedom.”

The overjoyed Renny kissed the hand she gave him:

“Within the month, Most Beauteous One! Give me but four short weeks and thou shalt see thyself as no one within the confines of the four iron pillars could ever hope to model thee. As to payment, I seek it not. Freedom might lead me away from thee!”

Renny again passionately kissed the jeweled fingers of the little Princess and dashed from the Court. How he finally managed to reach his studio door, he never knew.

Alas, for Renny and his promise. Even as he left the outer corridor, Bar, chief of his master’s spies, glided noiselessly from behind one of the great painted columns nearby.

Thereafter, Menna the Overseer saw to it that Renny sped upon no more missions to the Palace. On the contrary he was sternly warned to keep within his master’s villa-garden, and the little workshop which had been provided for him.

Yet, as luck would have it, in order to keep him busily occupied, Menna commanded him to model a statue of Hathor, Goddess of Beauty. This statue, when completed, Menna intended to present to the late Pharaoh’s shrine at Amada to the south. But to Renny he omitted to mention that his name and his alone would appear upon its ivory pedestal!