the dazzled, reddened eyes of the unfortunate sufferers,--many of whom
had formerly enjoyed in their own homes or at the king's court every
earthly blessing; who had been tender mothers and fathers, rejoiced in
doing good, and shared all the blessings of the civilization of a richly
gifted people,--these dazzled eyes which at first glittered through tears
caused by the swift transition from the darkness of the mines to the
glare of the noon-day sun, soon sparkled as fiercely and greedily as
those of starving owls.

At first, overwhelmed by the singular change in their destiny, they
struggled for composure and did not resist the Hebrews, who, at Joshua's
signal, began to file the fetters from their ankles; but when they
perceived the disarmed soldiers and overseers who, guarded by Ephraim and
his companions, were ranged at the base of a cliff, a strange excitement
overpowered them.  Amid shrieks and yells which no name can designate, no
words describe, they broke from those who were trying to remove their
fetters and, though no glance or word had been exchanged between them,
obeyed the same terrible impulse, and unheeding the chains that burdened
them, rushed upon the defenceless Egyptians.  Before the Hebrews could
prevent it, each threw himself upon the one who had inflicted the worst
suffering upon him; and here might be seen an emaciated man clutching the
throat of his stronger foe, yonder a band of nude women horribly
disfigured by want and neglect, rush upon the man who had most rudely
insulted, beaten, and abused them, and with teeth and nails wreak upon
him their long repressed fury.

It seemed as though the flood-tide of hate had burst its dam and,
unfettered, was demanding its victims.

There was a horrible scene of attack and defence, a ferocious, bloody
conflict on foot and amid the red sand of the desert, shrieks, yells, and
howls pierced the ear; nay, it was difficult to distinguish individuals
in this motley confusion of men and women, animated on the one side by
the wildest passion, a yearning for vengeance amounting to blood-
thirstiness, and on the other by the dread of death and the necessity
for self-defence.

Only a few of the prisoners had succeeded in controlling themselves; but
they, too, shouted irritating words to their fellows, reviled the
Egyptians in violent excitement, and shook their clenched fists at the
disarmed foe.

The fury with which the liberated serfs rushed upon their tormentors was
as unprecedented as the cruelties they had suffered.

But Joshua had deprived the Egyptians of their weapons, and they were
therefore under his protection.

So he commanded his men to separate the combatants, if possible without
bloodshed; but the task was no easy one, and many new and horrible deeds
were committed.  At last, however, it was accomplished, and they now
perceived how terribly rage had increased the strength of the exhausted
and feeble sufferers; for though no weapons had been used in the conflict
a number of corpses strewed the spot, and most of the guards were
bleeding from terrible wounds.

After quiet had been restored, Joshua asked the wounded commander for the
list of prisoners, but he pointed to the clerk of the mines, whom none of
the convicts had assailed.  He had been their physician and treated them
kindly-an elderly man, he had himself undergone sore trials and, knowing
the pain of suffering, was ready to alleviate the pangs of others.

He willingly read aloud the names of the prisoners, among which were
several Hebrew ones, and after each individual had responded, many
declared themselves ready to join the wandering tribes.

When the disarmed soldiers and guards at last set out on their way home,
the captain of the band that had escorted Joshua and his companions left
the other Egyptians, and with drooping head and embarrassed mien
approached old Nun and his son, and begged permission to go with them;
for he could expect no favor at home and there was no God in Egypt so
mighty as theirs.  It had not escaped his notice that Hosea, who had once
been a chief in the Egyptian service, had raised his hands in the sorest
straits to this God, and never had he witnessed the same degree of
resolution that he possessed.  Now he also knew that this same mighty God
had buried Pharaoh's powerful army in the sea to save His people.  Such a
God was acceptable to his heart, and he desired nothing better than to
remain henceforward with those who served Him.

Joshua willingly allowed him to join the Hebrews.  Then it appeared that
there were fifteen of the latter among the liberated prisoners and, to
Ephraim's special delight, Reuben, the husband of poor melancholy Milcah,
who clung so closely to Miriam.  His reserved, laconic disposition had
stood him in good stead, and the arduous forced labor seemed to have
inflicted little injury on his robust frame.

The exultation of victory, the joy of success, had taken full possession
of Ephraim and his youthful band; but when the sun set and there was
still no sign of Hur and his band, Nun and his followers were seized with
anxiety.

Ephraim had already proposed to go with some of his companions in quest
of tidings, when a messenger announced that Hur's men had lost courage at
the sight of the well-fortified Egyptian citadel.  Their leader, it is
true, had urged them to the assault, but his band had shrunk from the
peril and, unless Nun and his men brought aid, they would return with
their mission unfulfilled.

It was therefore resolved to go to the assistance of the timorous.  With
joyous confidence they marched forward and, during the journey through
the cool night, Ephraim and Nun described to Joshua how they had found
Kasana and how she had died.  What she had desired to communicate to the
man she loved was now made known to him, and the warrior listened with
deep emotion and remained silent and thoughtful until they reached
Dophkah, the valley of the turquoise mines, from whose center rose the
fortress which contained the prisoners.

Hur and his men had remained concealed in a side-valley, and after Joshua
had divided the Hebrew force into several bodies and assigned to each a
certain task, he gave at dawn the signal for the assault.

After a brief struggle the little garrison was overpowered and the
fortress taken.  The disarmed Egyptians, like their companions at the
copper mines, were sent home.  The prisoners were released and the
lepers, whose quarters were in a side-valley beyond the mines--among them
were those who at Joshua's bidding had been brought here--were allowed to
follow the conquerors at a certain distance.

What Hur, Miriam's husband, could not accomplish, Joshua had done, and
ere the young soldiers departed with Ephraim, old Nun assembled them to
offer thanks to the Lord.  The men under Hur's command also joined in the
prayer and wherever Joshua appeared Ephraim's companions greeted him with
cheers.

"Hail to our chief !"  often rang on the air, as they marched forward:
"Hail to him whom the Most High Himself has chosen for His sword!  We
will gladly follow him; for through him God leads us to victory."

Hur's men also joined in these shouts, and he did not forbid them; nay,
after the storming of the fortress, he had thanked Joshua and expressed
his pleasure in his liberation.

At the departure, the younger man had stepped back to let the older one
precede him; but Hur had entreated grey-haired Nun, who was greatly his
senior, to take the head of the procession, though after the deliverance
of the people on the shore of the Red Sea he had himself been appointed
by Moses and the elders to the chief command of the Hebrew soldiers.

The road led first through a level mountain valley, then it crossed the
pass known as the "Sword-point ", which was the only means of
communication between the mines and the Red Sea.

The rocky landscape was wild and desolate, and the path to be climbed
steep.  Joshua's old father, who had grown up on the flat plains of
Goshen and was unaccustomed to climbing mountains, was borne amid the
joyous acclamations of the others, in the arms of his son and grandson,
to the summit of the pass; but Miriam's husband who, at the head of his
men, followed the division of Ephraim's companions, heard the shouts of
the youths yet moved with drooping head and eyes bent on the ground.

At the summit they were to rest and wait for the people who were to be
led through the wilderness of Sin to Dophkah.

The victors gazed from the top of the pass in search of the travellers;
but as yet no sign of them appeared.  But when they looked back along the
mountain path whence they had come a different spectacle presented
itself, a scene so grand, so marvellous, that it attracted every eye as
though by a magic spell; for at their feet lay a circular valley,
surrounded by lofty cliffs, mountain ridges, peaks, and summits, which
here white as chalk, yonder raven-black, here grey and brown, yonder red
and green, appeared to grow upward from the sand toward the azure sky of
the wilderness, steeped in dazzling light, and unshadowed by the tiniest
cloudlet.

All that the eye beheld was naked and bare, silent and lifeless.  On the
slopes of the many-colored rocks, which surrounded the sandy valley, grew
no blade of grass nor smallest plant.  Neither bird, worm, nor beetle
stirred in these silent tracts, hostile to all life.  Here the eye
discerned no cultivation,--nothing that recalled human existence.  God
seemed to have created for Himself alone these vast tracts which were of
service to no living creature.  Whoever penetrated into this wilderness
entered a spot which the Most High had perchance chosen for a place of
rest and retreat, like the silent, inaccessible Holy of Holies of the
temple.

The young men had gazed mutely at the wonderful scene at their feet.
Now they prepared to encamp and showed themselves diligent in serving
old Nun, whom they sincerely loved.  Resting among them under a hastily
erected canopy he related, with sparkling eyes, the deeds his son had
performed.

Meanwhile Joshua and Hur were still standing at the top of the pass,
the former gazing silently down into the dreary, rocky valley, which
overarched by the blue dome of the sky, surrounded by the mountain
pillars and columns from God's own workshop, opened before him as the
mightiest of temples.

The old man had long gazed gloomily at the ground, but he suddenly
interrupted the silence and said:

"In Succoth I erected a heap of stones and called upon the Lord to be a
witness between us.  But in this spot, amid this silence, it seems to me
that without memorial or sign we are sure of His presence."  Here he drew
his figure to a greater height and continued: "And I now raise mine eyes
to Thee, Adonai, and address my humble words to Thee, Jehovah, Thou God
of Abraham and of our fathers, that Thou mayst a second time be a witness
between me and this man whom Thou Thyself didst summon to Thy service,
that he might be Thy sword."

He had uttered these words with eyes and hands uplifted, then turning to
the other, he said with solemn earnestness:

"So I ask thee Hosea, son of Nun, dost thou remember the vow which thou
and I made before the stones in Succoth?"

"I do," was the reply.  "And in sore disaster and great peril I perceived
what the Most High desired of me, and am resolved to devote to Him all
the strength of body and soul with which He has endowed me, to Him alone,
and to His people, who are also mine.  Henceforward I will be called
Joshua....  nor will I seek service with the Egyptians or any foreign
king; for the Lord our God through the lips of thy wife bestowed this
name upon me."

Then Hur, with solemn earnestness, broke in: "That is what I expected to
hear and as, in this place also, the Most High is a witness between me
and thee and hears this conversation, let the vow I made in His presence
be here fulfilled.  The heads of the tribes and Moses, the servant of the
Lord, appointed me to the command of the fighting-men of our people.  But
now thou dost call thyself Joshua, and hast vowed to serve no other than
the Lord our God.  I am well aware thou canst accomplish far greater
things as commander of an army than I, who have grown grey in driving
herds, or than any other Hebrew, by whatever name he is known, so I will
fulfil the vow sworn at Succoth.  I will ask Moses, the servant of the
Lord, and the elders to confide to thee the office of commander.  In
their hands will I place the decision and, because I feel that the Most
High beholds my heart, let me confess that I have thought of thee with
secret rancor.  Yet, for the welfare of the people, I will forget what
lies between us and offer thee my hand."

With these words he held out his hand to Joshua and the latter, grasping
it, replied with generous candor:

"Thy words are manly and mine shall be also.  For the sake of the people
and the cause we both serve, I will accept thy offer.  Yet since thou
hast summoned the Most High as a witness and He hears me, I, too, will
not withhold one iota of the truth.  The Lord Himself has summoned me to
the office of commander of the fighting-men which thou dost desire to
commit to me.  It was done through Miriam, thy wife, and is my due.  Yet
I recognize thy willingness to yield thy dignity to me as a praiseworthy
deed, since I know how hard it is for a man to resign power, especially
in favor of a younger one whom he does not love.  Thou hast done this,
and I am grateful.  I, too, have thought of thee with secret rancor; for
through thee I lost another possession harder for a man to renounce than
office: the love of woman."

The hot blood mounted into Hur's cheeks, as he exclaimed:

"Miriam!  I did not force her into marriage; nay I did not even purchase
her, according to the custom of our fathers, with the bridal dowry--she
became my wife of her own free will."

"I know it," replied Joshua quietly, "yet there was one man who had
yearned to make her his longer and more ardently than thou, and the fire
of jealousy burned fiercely in his heart.  But have no anxiety; for wert
thou now to give her a letter of divorce and lead her to me that I might
open my arms and tent to receive her, I would exclaim:

"Why hast thou done this thing to thyself and to me?  For a short time
ago I learned what woman's love is, and that I was mistaken when I
believed Miriam shared the ardor of my heart.  Besides, during the march
with fetters on my feet, in the heaviest misfortune, I vowed to devote
all the strength and energy of soul and body to the welfare of our
people.  Nor shall the love of woman turn me from the great duty I have
taken upon myself.  As for thy wife, I shall treat her as a stranger
unless, as a prophetess, she summons me to announce a new message from
the Lord."

With these words he held out his hand to his companion and, as Hur
grasped it, loud voices were heard from the fighting-men, for messengers
were climbing the mountain, who, shouting and beckoning, pointed to the
vast cloud of dust that preceded the march of the tribes.




CHAPTER XXV.

The Hebrews came nearer and nearer, and many of the young combatants
hastened to meet them.  These were not the joyous bands, who had joined
triumphantly in Miriam's song of praise, no, they tottered toward the
mountain slowly, with drooping heads.  They were obliged to scale the
pass from the steeper side, and how the bearers sighed; how piteously the
women and children wailed, how fiercely the drivers swore as they urged
the beasts of burden up the narrow, rugged path; how hoarsely sounded the
voices of the half fainting men as they braced their shoulders against
the carts to aid the beasts of burden.

These thousands who, but a few short days before, had so gratefully felt
the saving mercy of the Lord, seemed to Joshua, who stood watching their
approach, like a defeated army.

But the path they had followed from their last encampment, the harbor by
the Red Sea, was rugged, arid, and to them, who had grown up among the
fruitful plains of Lower Egypt, toilsome and full of terror.

It had led through the midst of the bare rocky landscape, and their eyes,
accustomed to distant horizons and luxuriant green foliage, met narrow
boundaries and a barren wilderness.

Since passing through the Gate of Baba, they had beheld on their way
through the valley of the same name and their subsequent pilgrimage
through the wilderness of Sin, nothing save valleys with steep precipices
on either side.  A lofty mountain of the hue of death had towered, black
and terrible, above the reddish-brown slopes, which seemed to the
wanderers like the work of human hands, for the strata of stones rose at
regular intervals.  One might have supposed that the giant builders whose
hands had toiled here in the service of the Sculptor of the world had
been summoned away ere they had completed the task, which in this
wilderness had no searching eye to fear and seemed destined for the
service of no living creature.  Grey and brown granite cliffs and ridges
rose on both sides of the path, and in the sand which covered it lay
heaps of small bits of red porphyry and coal-black stones that seemed as
if they had been broken by the blows of a hammer and resembled the dross
from which metal had been melted.  Greenish masses of rock, most peculiar
in form, surrounded  the narrow, cliff circled mountain valleys, which
opened into one another.  The ascending path pierced them; and often the
Hebrews, as they entered, feared that the lofty cliffs in the distance
would compel them to return.  Then murmurs and lamentations arose, but
the mode of egress soon appeared and led to another rock-valley.

On departing from the harbor at the Red Sea they had often found thorny
gum acacias and an aromatic desert plant, which the animals relished; but
the farther they entered the rocky wilderness, the more scorching and
arid the sand became, and at last the eye sought in vain for herbs and
trees.

At Elim fresh springs and shade-giving palms were found, and at the Red
Sea there were well-filled cisterns; but here at the camp in the
wilderness of Sin nothing had been discovered to quench the thirst, and
at noon it seemed as though an army of spiteful demons had banished every
inch of shade cast by the cliffs; for every part of the valleys and
ravines blazed and glowed, and nowhere was there the slightest protection
from the scorching sun.

The last water brought with them had been distributed among the human
beings and animals, and when the procession started in the morning not a
drop could be found to quench their increasing thirst.

Then the old doubting rancor and rebelliousness took possession of the
multitude.  Curses directed against Moses and the elders, who had led
them from the comfort of well-watered Egypt to this misery, never ceased;
but when they climbed the pass of the "Swordpoint" their parched throats
had become too dry for oaths and invectives.

Messengers from old Nun, Ephraim, and Hur had already informed the
approaching throngs that the young men had gained a victory and liberated
Joshua and the other captives; but their discouragement had become so
great that even this good news made little change, and only a flitting
smile on the bearded lips of the men, or a sudden flash of the old light
in the dark eyes of the women appeared.

Miriam, accompanied by melancholy Milcah, had remained with her
companions instead of, as usual, calling upon the women to thank the Most
High.

Reuben, the husband of her sorrowful ward whom fear of disappointment
still deterred from yielding to his newly-awakened hopes, was a quiet,
reticent man, so the first messenger did not know whether he was among
the liberated prisoners.  But great excitement overpowered Milcah and,
when Miriam bade her be patient, she hurried from one playmate to another
assailing them with urgent questions.  When even the last could give her
no information concerning the husband she had loved and lost, she burst
into loud sobs and fled back to the prophetess.  But she received little
consolation, for the woman who was expecting to greet her own husband as
a conqueror and see the rescued friend of her childhood, was absent-
minded and troubled, as if some heavy burden oppressed her soul.

Moses had left the tribes as soon as he learned that the attack upon the
mines had succeeded and Joshua was rescued; for it had been reported that
the warlike Amalekites, who dwelt in the oasis at the foot of Mt. Sinai,
were preparing to resist the Hebrews' passage through their well-watered
tract in the wilderness with its wealth of palms.  Accompanied by a few
picked men he set off across the mountains in quest of tidings, expecting
to join his people between Alush and Rephidim in the valley before the
oasis.

Abidan, the head of the tribe of Benjamin, with Hur and Nun, the princes
of Judah and Ephraim after their return from the mines--were to represent
him and his companions.

As the people approached the steep pass Hur, with more of the rescued
prisoners, came to meet them, and hurrying in advance of all the rest was
young Reuben, Milcah's lost husband.  She had recognized him in the
distance as he rushed down the mountain and, spite of Miriam's protest,
darted into the midst of the tribe of Simeon which marched in front of
hers.

The sight of their meeting cheered many a troubled spirit and when at
last, clinging closely to each other, they hurried to Miriam and the
latter beheld the face of her charge, it seemed as though a miracle had
been wrought; for the pale lily had become in the hue of her cheeks a
blooming rose.  Her lips, too, which she had but rarely and timidly
opened for a question or an answer, were in constant motion; for how much
she desired to know, how many questions she had to ask the silent husband
who had endured such terrible suffering.

They were a handsome, happy pair, and it seemed to them as if, instead of
passing naked rocks over barren desert paths, they were journeying
through a vernal landscape where springs were gushing and birds carolling
their songs.

Miriam, who had done everything in her power to sustain the grieving
wife, was also cheered by the sight of her happiness.  But every trace
of joyous sympathy soon vanished from her features; for while Reuben and
Milcah, as if borne on wings, seemed scarcely to touch the soil of the
wilderness, she moved forward with drooping head, oppressed by the
thought that it was her own fault that no like happiness could bloom
for her in this hour.

She told herself that she had made a sore sacrifice, worthy of the
highest reward and pleasing in the sight of God, when she refused to obey
the voice of her heart, yet she could not banish from her memory the
dying Egyptian who had denied her right to be numbered among those who
loved Hosea, the woman who for his sake had met so early a death.

She, Miriam, lived, yet she had killed the most fervent desire of her
soul; duty forbade her thinking with ardent longing of him who lingered
up yonder, devoted to the cause of his people and the God of his fathers,
a free, noble man, perhaps the future leader of the warriors of her race,
and if Moses so appointed, next to him the first and greatest of all the
Hebrews, but lost, forever lost to her.

Had she on that fateful night obeyed the yearning of her woman's heart
and not the demands of the vocation which placed her far above all other
women, he would long since have clasped her in his arms, as quiet Reuben
embraced his poor, feeble Milcah, now so joyous as she walked stoutly at
his side.

What thoughts were these?

She must drive them back to the inmost recesses of her heart, seek to
crush them; for it was a sin for her to long so ardently to meet another.
She wished for her husband's presence, as a saviour from herself and the
forbidden desires of this terrible hour.

Hur, the prince of the tribe of Judah, was her husband, not the former
Egyptian, the liberated captive.  What had she to ask from the
Ephraimite, whom she had forever refused?

Why should it hurt her that the liberated prisoner did not seek her; why
did she secretly cherish the foolish hope that momentous duties detained
him?

She scarcely saw or heard what was passing around her, and Milcah's
grateful greeting to her husband first informed her that Hur was
approaching.

He had waved his hand to her while still afar, but he came alone, without
Hosea or Joshua, she cared not what the rescued man called himself; and
it angered her to feel that this hurt her, nay, pierced her to the heart.
Yet she esteemed her elderly husband and it was not difficult for her to
give him a cordial welcome.

He answered her greeting joyously and tenderly; but when she pointed to
the re-united pair and extolled him as victor and deliverer of Reuben and
so many hapless men, he frankly owned that he had no right to this
praise, it was the due of "Joshua," whom she herself had summoned in the
name of the Most High to command the warriors of the people.

Miriam turned pale and, in spite of the steepness of the road, pressed
her husband with questions.  When she heard that Joshua was resting on
the heights with his father and the young men and refreshing themselves
with wine, and that Hur had promised to resign voluntarily, if Moses
desired to entrust the command to him, her heavy eye-brows contracted in
a gloomy frown beneath her broad forehead and, with curt severity, she
exclaimed:

"You are my lord, and it is not seemly for me to oppose you, not even if
you forget your own wife so far that you give place to the man who once
ventured to raise his eyes to her."

"He no longer cares for you," Hur eagerly interrupted; "nay, were I to
give you a letter of divorce, he would no longer desire to possess you."

"Would he not?"  asked Miriam with a forced smile.  "Do you owe this
information to him?"

"He has devoted himself, body and soul, to the welfare of the people and
renounces the love of woman," replied Hur.  But his wife exclaimed:

"Renunciation is easy, where desire would bring nothing save fresh
rejection and shame.  Not to him who, in the hour of the utmost peril,
sought aid from the Egyptians is the honor of the chief command of the
warriors due, but rather to you, who led the tribes to the first victory
at the store-house in Succoth and to whom the Lord Himself, through Moses
His servant, confided the command."

Hur looked anxiously at the woman for whom a late, fervent love had fired
his heart, and seeing her glowing cheeks and hurried breathing, knew not
whether to attribute these symptoms to the steep ascent or to the
passionate ambition of her aspiring soul, which she now transferred to
him, her husband.

That she held him in so much higher esteem than the younger hero, whose
return he had dreaded, pleased him, but he had grown grey in the strict
fulfilment of duty, and would not deviate from what he considered right.
His mere hints had been commands to the wife of his youth whom he had
borne to the grave a few years before, and as yet he had encountered no
opposition from Miriam.  That Joshua was best fitted to command the
fighting-men of the people was unquestionable, so he answered, with
panting breath, for the ascent taxed his strength also:

"Your good opinion is an honor and a pleasure to me; but even should
Moses and the elders confer the chief command upon me, remember the heap
of stones at Succoth and my vow.  I have ever been mindful of and shall
keep it."

Miriam looked angrily aside, and said nothing more till they had reached
the summit of the pass.

The victorious youths were greeting their approaching kindred with loud
shouts.

The joy of meeting, the provisions captured, and the drink which, though
sparingly distributed, was divided among the greatest sufferers, raised
the drooping courage of the exhausted wayfarers; and the thirsting
Hebrews shortened the rest at the summit of the pass in order to reach
Dophkah more quickly.  They had heard from Joshua that they would find
there not only ruined cisterns, but also a hidden spring whose existence
had been revealed to him by the ex-captain of the prisoners' guards.

The way led down the mountain.  "Haste" was the watchword of the fainting
Hebrews on their way to a well; and thus, soon after sunset, they reached
the valley of the turquoise mines, where they encamped around the hill
crowned by the ruined fortress and burned store-houses of Dophkah.

The spring in an acacia grove dedicated to the goddess Hathor was
speedily found, and fire after fire was quickly lighted.  The wavering
hearts which, in the desert of Sin, had been on the verge of despair were
again filled with the anticipation of life, hope, and grateful faith.
The beautiful acacias, it is true, had been felled to afford easier
access to the spring whose refreshing waters had effected this wonderful
change.

At the summit of the pass Joshua and Miriam had met again, but found time
only for a hasty greeting.  In the camp they were brought into closer
relations.

Joshua had appeared among the people with his father.  The heir of the
princely old man who was held in such high esteem received joyous
greetings from all sides, and his counsel to form a vanguard of the
youthful warriors, a rear-guard of the older ones, and send out chosen
bands of the former on reconnoitering expeditions was readily adopted.

He had a right to say that he was familiar with everything pertaining to
the guidance and defence of a large army.  God Himself had entrusted him
with the chief command, and Moses, by sending him the monition to be
strong and steadfast, had confirmed the office.  Hur, too, who now
possessed it, was willing to transfer it to him, and this man's promise
was inviolable, though he had omitted to repeat it in the presence of the
elders.  Joshua was treated as if he held the chief command, and he
himself felt his own authority supreme.

After the assembly dispersed, Hur had invited him, spite of the late
hour, to go to his tent and the warrior accompanied him, for he desired
to talk with Miriam.  He would show her, in her husband's presence, that
he had found the path which she had so zealously pointed out to him.

In the presence of another's wife the tender emotions of a Hebrew were
silent.  Hur's consort must be made aware that he, Joshua, no longer
cherished any love for her.  Even in his solitary hours, he had wholly
ceased to think of her.

He confessed that she was a noble, a majestic woman, but the very memory
of this grandeur now sent a chill through his veins.

Her actions, too, appeared in a new light.  Nay, when at the summit of
the pass she had greeted him with a cold smile, he felt convinced that
they were utterly estranged from one another, and this feeling grew
stronger and stronger beside the blazing fire in the stately tent of the
chief, where they met a second time.

The rescued Reuben and his wife Milcah had deserted Miriam long before
and, during her lonely waiting, many thoughts had passed through her mind
which she meant to impress upon the man to whom she had granted so much
that its memory now weighed on her heart like a crime.

We are most ready to be angry with those to whom we have been unjust,
and this woman regarded the gift of her love as something so great,
so precious, that it behooved even the man whom she had rejected never
to cease to remember it with gratitude.  But Joshua had boasted that he
no longer desired, even were she offered to him, the woman whom he had
once so fervently loved and clasped in his embrace.  Nay, he had
confirmed this assertion by leisurely waiting, without seeking her.

At last he came, and in company with her husband, who was ready to cede
his place to him.

But she was present, ready to watch with open eyes for the welfare of the
too generous Hur.

The elderly man, to whose fate she had linked her own, and whose faithful
devotion touched her, should be defrauded by no rival of the position
which was his due, and which he must retain, if only because she rebelled
against being the wife of a man who could no longer claim next to her
brothers the highest rank in the tribes.

Never before had the much-courted woman, who had full faith in her gift
of prophesy, felt so bitter, sore, and irritated.  She did not admit it
even to herself, yet it seemed as if the hatred of the Egyptians with
which Moses had inspired her, and which was now futile, had found a new
purpose and was directed against the only man whom she had ever loved.

But a true woman can always show kindness to everyone whom she does not
scorn, so though she blushed deeply at the sight of the man whose kiss
she had returned, she received him cordially, and with sympathetic
questions.

Meanwhile, however, she addressed him by his former name Hosea, and when
he perceived it was intentional, he asked if she had forgotten that it
was she herself who, as the confidante of the Most High, had commanded
him henceforward to call himself "Joshua."

Her features grew sharper with anxiety as she replied that her memory was
good but he reminded her of a time which she would prefer to forget.  He
had himself forfeited the name the Lord had given him by preferring the
favor of the Egyptians to the help which God had promised.  Faithful to
the old custom, she would continue to call him "Hosea."

The honest-hearted soldier had not expected such hostility, but he
maintained a tolerable degree of composure and answered quietly that he
would rarely afford her an opportunity to address him by this or any
other name.  Those who were his friends readily adopted that of Joshua.

Miriam replied that she, too, would be ready to do so if her husband
approved and he himself insisted upon it; for the name was only a
garment.  Of course offices and honors were another matter.

When Joshua then declared that he still believed God Himself had summoned
him, through the lips of His prophetess, to command the Hebrew soldiers
and that he would admit the right of no one save Moses to deprive him of
his claim to this office, Hur assented and held out his hand to him.

Then Miriam dropped the restraint she had hitherto imposed on herself
and, with defiant eagerness, continued:

"There I am of a different opinion.  You did not obey the summons of the
Most High.  Can you deny this?  And when the Omnipresent One found you at
the feet of Pharaoh, instead of at the head of His people, He deprived
you of the office with which He had entrusted you.  He, the mightiest of
generals, summoned the tempest and the waves, and they swallowed up the
foe.  So perished those who were your friends till their heavy fetters
made you realize their true disposition toward you and your race.  But I,
meanwhile, was extolling the mercy of the Most High, and the people
joined in my hymn of praise.  On that very day the Lord summoned another
to command the fighting-men in your stead, and that other, as you know,
is my husband.  If Hur has never learned the art of war, God will surely
guide his arm, and it is He and none other who bestows victory.

"My husband--hear it again--is the sole commander of the hosts and if,
in the abundance of his generosity, he has forgotten it, he will retain
his office when he remembers whose hand chose him, and when I, his wife,
raise my voice and recall it to his memory."

Joshua turned to go, in order to end the painful discussion, but Hur
detained him, protesting that he was deeply incensed by his wife's
unseemly interference in the affairs of men, and that he insisted on his
promise.  "A woman's disapproving words were blown away by the wind.  It
would be Moses' duty to declare whom Jehovah had chosen to be commander."

While making this reply Hur had gazed at his wife with stern dignity, as
if admonishing discretion, and the look seemed to have effected its
purpose; for Miriam had alternately flushed and paled as she listened;
nay, she even detained the guest by beckoning him with a trembling hand
to approach, as though she desired to soothe him.

"Let me say one thing more," she began, drawing a long breath, "that you
may not misunderstand my meaning.  I call everyone our friend who devotes
himself to the cause of the people, and how self-sacrificingly you intend
to do this, Hur has informed me.  It was your confidence in Pharaoh's
favor that parted us--therefore I know how to prize your firm and
decisive breach with the Egyptians, but I did not correctly estimate the
full grandeur of this deed until I learned that not only long custom, but
other bonds, united you to the foe."

"What is the meaning of these words?"  replied Joshua, convinced that she
had just fitted to the bowstring another shaft intended to wound him.
But Miriam, unheeding the question, calmly continued with a defiant
keenness of glance that contradicted her measured speech:

"After the Lord's guidance had delivered us from the enemy, the Red Sea
washed ashore the most beautiful woman we have seen for a long time.  I
bandaged the wound a Hebrew woman dealt her and she acknowledged that her
heart was filled with love for you, and that on her dying bed she
regarded you as the idol of her soul."

Joshua, thoroughly incensed, exclaimed: "If this is the whole truth, wife