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Updated: June 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.
Scherau ran off shouting as loud as he could. The old woman pressed her hand to her side, she muttered: "There it is again." "In the other world Assa Assa," and her trembling lips were silent for ever. Katuti had kept her unfortunate nephew Paaker concealed in one of her servants' tents.
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.
"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."
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."
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.
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