The leech looked at her a long time with an imploring and tender expression, then he said: "Accept my thanks--and be happy." The girl would have gone up to him to take his hand, but he waved her off with his right hand enveloped in wrappings.
"Come no nearer," he said, "but stay a moment longer.

You have tears in your eyes; are they for me or only for my pain ?" "For you, good noble man! my friend and my preserver!" said Uarda.

"For you dear, poor Nebsecht!" The leech closed his eyes as she spoke these words with earnest feeling, but he looked up once more as she ceased speaking, and gazed at her with tender admiration; then he said softly: "It is enough--now I can die." Uarda left the tent, Pentaur remained with him listening to his hoarse and difficult breathing; suddenly: Nebsecht raised himself, and said: "Farewell, my friend,--my journey is beginning, who knows whither ?" "Only not into vacancy, not to end in nothingness!" cried Pentaur warmly.
The leech shook his head.

"I have been something," he said, "and being something I cannot become nothing.

Nature is a good economist, and utilizes the smallest trifle; she will use me too according to her need.
She brings everything to its end and purpose in obedience to some rule and measure, and will so deal with me after I am dead; there is no waste.
Each thing results in being that which it is its function to become; our wish or will is not asked--my head! when the pain is in my head I cannot think--if only I could prove--could prove----" The last words were less and less audible, his breath was choked, and in a few seconds Pentaur with deep regret closed his eyes.
Pentaur, as he quitted the tent where the dead man lay, met the high-priest Ameni, who had gone to seek him by his friend's bed-side, and they returned together to gaze on the dead.