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Scherau had often crept close up to him, and thoughtfully watched him at work, and then tried himself to make animal and human figures out of a bit of clay. One day the old man had observed him. The sculptor had silently taken his humble attempt out of his hand, and had returned it to him with a smile of encouragement. From that time a peculiar tie had sprung up between the two.
Scherau would venture to sit down by the sculptor, and try to imitate his finished images. Not a word was exchanged between them, but often the deaf old man would destroy the boy's works, often on the contrary improve them with a touch of his own hand, and not seldom nod at him to encourage him.
While he was still speaking, they heard the guards call out and a child's loud cry, and at the same instant little Scherau rushed into the tent holding up his hand exclaiming. "I have it! I have found it!"
I remember seeing him as if I were in a dream, and I revived a little, and I felt the jewel in my fingers then." "Then it was dropped on the way to the tent?" said Nefert. Uarda nodded; little Scherau, who had been crouching on the floor beside her, gave Uarda a loving glance, dimmed with tears, and quietly slipped out of the tent.
Oh! they must embalm me I cannot bear to vanish, and rot and evaporate into nothingness!" While she was still speaking, the dwarf Nemu had come into the tent; Scherau, seeing the old woman senseless, had run to tell him that his mother was lying on the earth with her eyes shut, and was dying. The witch perceived the little man.
"How do you come here, Scherau?" the paraschites asked the weeping boy; the unfortunate child that Hekt was bringing up as a dwarf. "I wanted," sobbed the little one, "to bring the cake to Uarda. She is ill I had so much " "Poor child," said the paraschites, stroking the boy's hair; "there-give it to Uarda."
While the bystanders watched him in breathless silence while the crackling of the wood, the roar of the flames, and the dull thump of falling timber mingled with the distant chant of a procession of priests who were now approaching the burning pile, Nefert roused by little Scherau knelt on the bare ground in fervent and passionate prayer to the saving Gods.
"She is very like my Danaid princess," he said to his wife; "only she is younger and much prettier than she." Little Scherau came in to pay his respects to her, and she was delighted to see the boy; still she was sad, and however kindly Nefert spoke to her she remained in silent reverie, while from time to time a large tear rolled down her cheek.
"It is well," she said, "that you have come; I shall be dead before sunrise." "Mother!" cried the dwarf horrified, "you shall live, and live better than you have done till now! Great things are happening, and for us!" "I know, I know," said Hekt. "Go away, Scherau now, Nemu, whisper in my ear what is doing?"
While the bystanders watched him in breathless silence while the crackling of the wood, the roar of the flames, and the dull thump of falling timber mingled with the distant chant of a procession of priests who were now approaching the burning pile, Nefert roused by little Scherau knelt on the bare ground in fervent and passionate prayer to the saving Gods.
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