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lake. It was only afterwards that she began to realize their truth.
She set out mechanically to join Kait and the children where they were clustered by the little
pavilion, but found that her footsteps lagged and then ceased as if of their own volition.
She was afraid, she found, to join Kait, to look into that plain and placid face, in case she
might fancy she saw there the face of a poisoner. She watched Henet hustle out on the porch
and back again and her usual sense of repulsion was, she found, heightened. Desperately she
turned towards the doorway of the courtyard, and a moment later encountered Ipy striding in,
his head held high and a gay smile on his impudent face.
Renisenb found herself staring at him. Ipy, the spoiled child of the family, the handsome,
willful little boy she remembered when she had gone away with Khay...
"Why, Renisenb, what is it? Why are you looking at me so strangely?"
"Was I?"
Ipy laughed.
"You are looking as half-witted as Henet."
Renisenb shook her head.
"Henet is not half-witted. She is very astute."
"She has plenty of malice, that I know. In fact, she's a nuisance about the house. I mean to get
rid of her."
Renisenb's lips opened and closed. She whispered, "Get rid of her?"
"My dear sister, what is the matter with you? Have you too been seeing evil spirits like that
miserable, half-witted black child?"
"You think everyone is half-witted!"
"That child certainly was. Well, it's true I'm inclined to be impatient of stupidity. I've had too
much of it. It's no fun, I can tell you, being plagued with two slow-going elder brothers who
can't see beyond their own noses! Now that they are out of the way, and there is only my
father to deal with, you will soon see the difference. My father will do what I say."
Renisenb looked up at him. He looked unusually handsome and arrogant. There was a vitality
about him, a sense of triumphant life and vigor, that struck her as above the normal. Some
inner consciousness seemed to be affording him this vital sense of well-being.
Renisenb said sharply:
"My brothers are not both out of the way, as you put it. Yahmose is alive."
Ipy looked at her with an air of contemptuous mockery.
"And I suppose you think he will get quite well again?"
"Why not?"
Ipy laughed.
"Why not? Well, let us say simply that I disagree with you. Yahmose is finished, done for - he
may crawl about for a little and sit and moan in the sun. But he is no longer a man. He has
recovered from the first effects of the poison, but you can see yourself, he makes no further
headway."
"Then why doesn't he?" Renisenb demanded. "The physician said it would only take a little
time before he was quite strong and himself again."
Ipy shrugged his shoulders.
"Physicians do not know everything. They talk wisely and use long words. Blame the wicked
Nofret if you like - but Yahmose, your dear brother Yahmose, is doomed."
"And have you no fear yourself, Ipy?"
"Fear? I?" The boy laughed, throwing back his handsome head.
"Nofret did not love you overwell, Ipy."
"Nothing can harm me, Renisenb, unless I choose to let it! I am young still, but I am one of
those people who are born to succeed. As for you, Renisenb, you would do well to be on my
side, do you hear? You treat me, often, as an irresponsible boy. But I am more than that now.
Every month will show a difference. Soon there will be no will but mine in this place. My
father may give the orders but though his voice speaks them, the brain that conceives them
will be mine!" He took a step or two, paused, and said over his shoulder: "So be careful,
Renisenb, that I do not become displeased with you."
As Renisenb stood staring after him, she heard a footstep and turned to see Kait standing
beside her.
"What was Ipy saying, Renisenb?"
Renisenb said slowly:
"He says that he will be master here soon."
"Does he?" said Kait. "I think otherwise."
III
Ipy ran lightly up the steps of the porch and into the house. The sight of Yahmose lying on a
couch seemed to please him. He said gaily:
"Well, how goes it, Brother? Are we never to see you back on the cultivation? I cannot
understand why everything has not gone to pieces without you!"
Yahmose said fretfully in a weak voice:
"I do not understand it at all. The poison is now eliminated. Why do I not regain my strength?
I tried to walk this morning and my legs would not support me. I am weak - weak - and what
is worse, I seem to grow weaker every day."
Ipy shook his head with facile commiseration.
"That is indeed bad. And the physicians give no help?"
"Mersu's assistant comes every day. He cannot understand my condition. I drink strong
decoctions of herbs. The daily incantations are made to the goddess. Special food full of
nourishment is prepared for me. There is no reason, so the physician assures me, why I should
not rapidly grow strong. Yet instead, I seem to waste away."
"That is too bad," said Ipy.
He went on, singing softly under his breath till he came upon his father and Hori engaged
with a sheet of accounts.
Imhotep's face, anxious and careworn, lightened at the sight of his much-loved youngest son.
"Here is my Ipy. What have you to report from the estate?"
"All goes well, Father. We have been reaping the barley. A good crop."
"Yes, thanks to Re, all goes well outside. Would it went as well inside. Still I must have faith
in Ashayet - she will not refuse to aid us in our distress. I am worried about Yahmose. I
cannot understand this lassitude - this unaccountable weakness."
Ipy smiled scornfully.
"Yahmose was always a weakling," he said.
"That is not so," said Hori mildly. "His health has always been good."
Ipy said assertively:
"Health depends upon the spirit of a man. Yahmose never had any spirit. He was afraid, even,
to give orders."
"That is not so lately," said Imhotep. "Yahmose has shown himself to be full of authority in
these last months. I have been surprised. But this weakness in the limbs worries me. Mersu
assured me that once the effects of the poison had worn off, recovery should be swift."
Hori moved some of the papyrus aside.
"There are other poisons," he said quietly.
"What do you mean?" Imhotep wheeled round.
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