“Who is this royal lady that draws near?” she asked of Rei.
“It is Meriamun the Queen; she whom the Wanderer hath brought to shame.”
“Nay, nay,” cried Rei. “She loves thee not, Lady, and will slay thee.”
Presently, as she walked, Meriamun saw Rei the Priest and the veiled woman at his side, and she saw on the woman’s breast a red jewel that burnt and glowed like a heart of fire. Then like fire burned the heart of Meriamun, for she knew that this was Argive Helen who stood before her, Helen whose shape she had stolen like a thief and with the mind of a thief.
“Say,” she cried to Rei, who bowed before her, “say, who is this woman?”
Rei looked at the Queen with terrified eyes, and spake in a voice of warning.
“This is that Goddess who dwells in the Temple of Hathor,” he said. “Let her pass in peace, O Queen.”
“In peace she shall pass indeed,” answered Meriamun. “What saidest thou, old dotard? That Goddess! Nay, no Goddess have we here, but an evil-working witch, who hath brought woes unnumbered upon Khem. Because of her, men die month by month till the vaults of the Temple of Hathor are full of her slain. Because of her it was that curse upon curse fell on the land—the curse of water turned to blood, of hail and of terrible darkness, ay, and the curse of the death of the firstborn among whom my own son died. And thou hast dared, Rei, to bring this witch here to my Palace halls! By Amen if I had not loved thee always thy life should pay the price. And thou,” and she stretched her hand towards the Helen, “thou hast dared to come. It is well, no more shalt thou bring evil upon Khem. Hearken, slave,” and she turned to Kurri the Sidonian; “draw that knife of thine and plunge it to the hilt in the breast of yonder woman. So shalt thou win freedom and all thy goods shall be given thee again.”
“I charge thee, Lady,” she said in slow soft tones, “bid not thy servant do this deed, for though I have little will to bring evil upon men, yet I may not lightly be affronted.”
Now Kurri hung back doubtfully fingering his dagger.
“Draw, knave, draw!” cried Meriamun, “and do my bidding, or presently thou shalt be slain with this same knife.”
When the Sidonian heard these words he cried aloud with fear, for he well knew that as the Queen said so it would be done to him. Instantly he drew the great knife and rushed upon the veiled woman. But as he came, Helen lifted her veil so that her eyes fell upon his eyes, and the brightness of their beauty was revealed to him; and when he saw her loveliness he stopped suddenly as one who is transfixed of a spear. Then madness came upon him, and with a cry he lifted the knife, and plunging it, not into her heart, but into his own, fell down dead.