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AN EGYPTIAN PRINCESS, Part 1.
By Georg Ebers
Volume 2.
CHAPTER III.
The guests were all gone. Their departing mirth and joy had been smitten
down by the drunkard's abusive words, like fresh young corn beneath a
hail storm. Rhodopis was left standing alone in the empty, brightly
decorated (supper-room). Knakias extinguished the colored lamps on the
walls, and a dull, mysterious half-light took the place of their
brilliant rays, falling scantily and gloomily on the piled-up plates and
dishes, the remnants of the meal, and the seats and cushions, pushed out
of their places by the retiring guests. A cold breeze came through the
open door, for the dawn was at hand, and just before sunrise, the air is
generally unpleasantly cool in Egypt. A cold chill struck the limbs of
the aged woman through her light garments. She stood gazing tearlessly
and fixedly into the desolate room, whose walls but a few minutes before
had been echoing with joy and gladness, and it seemed to her that the
deserted guest-chamber must be like her own heart. She felt as if a worm
were gnawing there, and the warm blood congealing into ice.
Lost in these thoughts, she remained standing till at last her old female
slave appeared to light her to her sleeping apartment.
Silently Rhodopis allowed herself to be undressed, and then, as silently,
lifted the curtain which separated a second sleeping apartment from her
own. In the middle of this second room stood a bedstead of maplewood,
and there, on white sheets spread over a mattress of fine sheep's wool,
and protected from the cold by bright blue coverlets's, lay a graceful,
lovely girl asleep; this was Rhodopis' granddaughter, Sappho. The
rounded form and delicate figure seemed to denote one already in opening
maidenhood, but the peaceful, blissful smile could only belong to a
harmless, happy child.
One hand lay under her head, hidden among the thick dark brown hair, the
other clasped unconsciously a little amulet of green stone, which hung
round her neck. Over her closed eyes the long lashes trembled almost
imperceptibly, and a delicate pink flush came and went on the cheek of
the slumberer. The finely-cut nostrils rose and fell with her regular
breathing, and she lay there, a picture of innocence, of peace, smiling
in dreams, and of the slumber that the gods bestow on early youth, when
care has not yet come.
Softly and carefully, crossing the thick carpets on tiptoe, the grey-
haired woman approached, looked with unutterable tenderness into the
smiling, childish face, and, kneeling down silently by the side of the
bed, buried her face in its soft coverings, so that the girl's hand just
came in contact with her hair. Then she wept, and without intermission;
as though she hoped with this flood of tears to wash away not only her
recent humiliation, but with it all other sorrow from her mind.
At length she rose, breathed a light kiss on the sleeping girl's
forehead, raised her hands in prayer towards heaven, and returned to her
own room, gently and carefully as she had come.
At her own bedside she found the old slave-woman, still waiting for her.
"What do you want so late, Melitta?" said Rhodopis, kindly, under her
breath. "Go to bed; at your age it is not good to remain up late, and
you know that I do not require you any longer. Good night! and do not
come to-morrow until I send for you. I shall not be able to sleep much
to-night, and shall be thankful if the morning brings me a short repose."
The woman hesitated; it seemed that she had some thing on her mind which
she feared to utter.
"There is something you want to ask me?" said Rhodopis.
Still the old slave hesitated.
"Speak!" said Rhodopis, "speak at once, and quickly."
"I saw you weeping," said the slave-woman, "you seem ill or sad; let me
watch this night by your bedside. Will you not tell me what ails you?
You have often found that to tell a sorrow lightens the heart and lessens
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