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Updated: May 11, 2025
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.
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.
I thought of my grandmother, of my father, of little Scherau, of the Gods, and of Pentaur. Now I should like to give you a part of it too." "Only a part?" asked Rameri. "Well, the whole will be reflected in you, you know," said Uarda, "as the whole moon is reflected in each drop."
"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?"
"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."
But now other things have to be done besides lingering with you; now I will show you that I am a man, now that Pentaur is to be saved. Farewell, Uarda, and think of me!" He would have hurried off, but Scherau held him by the robe, and said timidly: Thou sayst thou art Rameses' son. Hekt spoke of him too. She compared him to our moulting hawk."
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!"
As Rameri quitted his sister's tent he saw the watch seize and lead away a little boy; the child cried bitterly, and the prince in a moment recognized the little sculptor Scherau, who had betrayed the Regent's plot to him and to Uarda, and whom he had already fancied he had seen about the place.
It is a case of life and death. Who was the scoundrel? Did she not name him? Try to remember." Scherau bit his red lips, and tried for composure. His tears ceased, and suddenly he exclaimed, as he put his hand into the breast of his ragged little garment: "Stay, perhaps you will know him again I made him!" "You did what?" asked the prince.
It will not make your house rich but it will your heart!" Scherau clung to the priest, and involuntarily raised his little hand to stroke Pentaur's cheek. An unknown tenderness had filled his little heart, and he felt as if he must throw his arms round the poet's neck and cry upon his breast. But Pentaur set him down on the ground, and he trotted down into the valley. There he paused.
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