knees and the veil of unconsciousness descended upon the sufferer's soul,
which had been the prey of so many conflicting emotions.

Kasana was alarmed, but speedily regained her composure and began to cool
his brow and head by bathing them with water from the neighboring pond.
Yes, in his boyhood the man she loved must have resembled this youth. Her
heart throbbed more quickly and, while supporting his head in her hands,
she gently kissed him.

She supposed him to be unconscious, but the refreshing water had already
dispelled the brief swoon, and he felt the caress with a thrill of
rapture. But he kept his eyes closed, and would gladly have lain for a
life-time with his head pillowed on her breast in the hope that her lips
might once more meet his. But instead of kissing him a second time she
called loudly for aid. He raised himself, gave one wild, ardent look into
her face and, ere she could stay him, rushed like a strong man to the
garden gate, flung it open, and followed the troops. He soon overtook the
rear ranks, passed on in advance of the others, and at last reached their
leader's side and, calling his uncle by name, gave his own. Hosea, in his
joy and astonishment, held out his arms, but ere Ephraim could fall upon
his breast, he again lost consciousness, and stalwart soldiers bore the
senseless lad into the tent the quartermaster had already pitched on a
dune by the sea.




CHAPTER V.

It was midnight. A fire was blazing in front of Hosea's tent, and he sat
alone before it, gazing mournfully now into the flames and anon over the
distant country. Inside the canvas walls Ephraim was lying on his uncle's
camp-bed.

The surgeon who attended the soldiers had bandaged the youth's wounds,
given him an invigorating cordial, and commanded him to keep still; for
the violence with which the fever had attacked the lad alarmed him.

But in spite of the leech's prescription Ephraim continued restless.
Sometimes Kasana's image rose before his eyes, increasing the fever of
his over-heated blood, sometimes he recalled the counsel to become a
warrior like his uncle. The advice seemed wise--at least he tried to
persuade himself that it was--because it promised honor and fame, but in
reality he wished to follow it because it would bring her for whom his
soul yearned nearer to him.

Then his pride rose as he remembered the insults which she and her father
had heaped on those to whom by every tie of blood and affection, he
belonged. His hand clenched as he thought of the ruined home of his
grandfather, whom he had ever regarded one of the noblest of men. Nor was
his message forgotten. Miriam had repeated it again and again, and his
clear memory retained every syllable, for he had unweariedly iterated it
to himself during his solitary walk to Tanis. He was striving to do the
same thing now but, ere he could finish, his mind always reverted to
thoughts of Kasana. The leech had told Hosea to forbid the sufferer to
talk and, when the youth attempted to deliver his message, the uncle
ordered him to keep silence. Then the soldier arranged his pillow with a
mother's tenderness, gave him his medicine, and kissed him on the
forehead. At last he took his seat by the fire before the tent and only
rose to give Ephraim a drink when he saw by the stars that an hour had
passed.

The flames illumined Hosea's bronzed features, revealing the countenance
of a man who had confronted many a peril and vanquished all by steadfast
perseverance and wise consideration. His black eyes had an imperious
look, and his full, firmly-compressed lips suggested a quick temper and,
still more, the iron will of a resolute man. His broad-shouldered form
leaned against some lances thrust crosswise into the earth, and when he
passed his strong hand through his thick black locks or smoothed his dark
beard, and his eyes sparkled with ire, it was evident that his soul was
stirred by conflicting emotions and that he stood on the threshold of a
great resolve. The lion was resting, but when he starts up, let his foes
beware!

His soldiers had often compared their fearless, resolute leader, with his
luxuriant hair, to the king of beasts, and as he now shook his fist,
while the muscles of his bronzed arm swelled as though they would burst
the gold armlet that encircled them, and his eyes flashed fire, his
awe-inspiring mien did not invite approach.

Westward, the direction toward which his eyes were turned, lay the
necropolis and the ruined strangers' quarter. But a few hours ago he had
led his troops through the ruins around which the ravens were circling
and past his father's devastated home.

Silently, as duty required, he marched on. Not until he halted to seek
quarters for the soldiers did he hear from Hornecht, the captain of the
archers, what had happened during the night. He listened silently,
without the quiver of an eye-lash, or a word of questioning, until his
men had pitched their tents. He had but just gone to rest when a Hebrew
maiden, spite of the menaces of the guard, made her way in to implore
him, in the name of Eliab, one of the oldest slaves of his family, to go
with her to the old man, her grandfather. The latter, whose weakness
prevented journeying, had been left behind, and directly after the
departure of the Hebrews he and his wife had been carried on an ass to
the little but near the harbor, which generous Nun, his master, had
bestowed on the faithful slave.

The grand-daughter had been left to care for the feeble pair, and now the
old servant's heart yearned for one more sight of his lord's first-born
son whom, when a child, he had carried in his arms. He had charged the
girl to tell Hosea that Nun had promised his people that his son would
abandon the Egyptians and cleave to his own race. The tribe of Ephraim,
nay the whole Hebrew nation had hailed these tidings with the utmost joy.
Eliab would give him fuller details; she herself had been well nigh dazed
with weeping and anxiety. He would earn the richest blessings if he would
only follow her.

The soldier realized at once that he must fulfil this desire, but he was
obliged to defer his visit to the old slave until the nest morning. The
messenger, however, even in her haste, had told him many incidents she
had seen herself or heard from others.

At last she left him. He rekindled the fire and, so long as the flames
burned brightly, his gaze was bent with a gloomy, thoughtful expression
upon the west. Not till they had devoured the fuel and merely flickered
with a faint bluish light around the charred embers did he fix his eyes
on the whirling sparks. And the longer he did so, the deeper, the more
unconquerable became the conflict in his soul, whose every energy, but
yesterday, had been bent upon a single glorious goal.

The war against the Libyan rebels had detained him eighteen months from
his home, and he had seen ten crescent moons grow full since any news had
reached him of his kindred. A few weeks before he had been ordered to
return, and when to-day he approached nearer and nearer to the obelisks
towering above Tanis, the city of Rameses, his heart had pulsed with as
much joy and hopefulness as if the man of thirty were once more a boy.

Within a few short hours he should again see his beloved, noble father,
who had needed great deliberation and much persuasion from Hosea's
mother--long since dead--ere he would permit his son to follow the bent
of his inclinations and enter upon a military life in Pharaoh's army. He
had anticipated that very day surprising him with the news that he had
been promoted above men many years his seniors and of Egyptian lineage.
Instead of the slights Nun had dreaded, Hosea's gallant bearing, courage
and, as he modestly added, good-fortune had gained him promotion, yet he
had remained a Hebrew. When he felt the necessity of offering to some god
sacrifices and prayer, he had bowed before Seth, to whose temple Nun had
led him when a child, and whom in those days all the people in Goshen in
whose veins flowed Semitic blood had worshipped. But he also owed
allegiance to another god, not the God of his fathers, but the deity
revered by all the Egyptians who had been initiated. He remained unknown
to the masses, who could not have understood him; yet he was adored not
only by the adepts but by the majority of those who had obtained high
positions in civil or military life-whether they were servants of the
divinity or not--and Hosea, the initiated and the stranger, knew him
also. Everybody understood when allusion was made to "the God," the "Sum
of All," the "Creator of Himself," and the "Great One." Hymns extolled
him, inscriptions on the monuments, which all could read, spoke of him,
the one God, who manifested himself to the world, pervaded the universe,
and existed throughout creation not alone as the vital spark animates the
human organism, but as himself the sum of creation, the world with its
perpetual growth, decay, and renewal, obeying the laws he had himself
ordained. His spirit, existing in every form of nature, dwelt also in
man, and wherever a mortal gazed he could discern the rule of the "One."
Nothing could be imagined without him, therefore he was one like the God
of Israel. Nothing could be created nor happen on earth apart from him,
therefore, like Jehovah, he was omnipotent. Hosea had long regarded both
as alike in spirit, varying only in name. Whoever adored one was a
servant of the other, so the warrior could have entered his father's
presence with a clear conscience, and told him that although in the
service of the king he had remained loyal to the God of his nation.

Another thought had made his heart pulse faster and more joyously as he
saw in the distance the pylons and obelisks of Tanis; for on countless
marches through the silent wilderness and in many a lonely camp he had
beheld in imagination a virgin of his own race, whom he had known as a
singular child, stirred by marvellous thoughts, and whom, just before
leading his troops to the Libyan war, he had again met, now a dignified
maiden of stern and unapproachable beauty. She had journeyed from Succoth
to Tanis to attend his mother's funeral, and her image had been deeply
imprinted on his heart, as his--he ventured to hope--on hers. She had
since become a prophetess, who heard the voice of her God. While the
other maidens of his people were kept in strict seclusion, she was free
to come and go at will, even among men, and spite of her hate of the
Egyptians and of Hosea's rank among them, she did not deny that it was
grief to part and that she would never cease thinking of him. His future
wife must be as strong, as earnest, as himself. Miriam was both, and
quite eclipsed a younger and brighter vision which he had once conjured
before his memory with joy.

He loved children, and a lovelier girl than Kasana he had never met,
either in Egypt or in alien lands. The interest with which the fair
daughter of his companion-in-arms watched his deeds and his destiny, the
modest yet ardent devotion afterwards displayed by the much sought-after
young widow, who coldly repelled all other suitors, had been a delight to
him in times of peace. Prior to her marriage he had thought of her as the
future mistress of his home, but her wedding another, and Hornecht's
oft-repeated declaration that he would never give his child to a
foreigner, had hurt his pride and cooled his passion. Then he met Miriam
and was fired with an ardent desire to make her his wife. Still, on the
homeward march the thought of seeing Kasana again had been a pleasant
one. It was fortunate he no longer wished to wed Hornecht's daughter; it
could have led to naught save trouble. Both Hebrews and Egyptians held it
to be an abomination to eat at the same board, or use the same seats or
knives. Though he himself was treated by his comrades as one of
themselves, and had often heard Kasana's father speak kindly of his
kindred, yet "strangers" were hateful in the eyes of the captain of the
archers, and of all free Egyptians.

He had found in Miriam the noblest of women. He hoped that Kasana might
make another happy. To him she would ever be the charming child from whom
we expect nothing save the delight of her presence.

He had come to ask from her, as a tried friend ever ready for leal
service, a joyous glance. From Miriam he would ask herself, with all her
majesty and beauty, for he had borne the solitude of the camp long
enough, and now that on his return no mother's arms opened to welcome
him, he felt for the first time the desolation of a single life. He
longed to enjoy the time of peace when, after dangers and privations of
every kind, he could lay aside his weapons. It was his duty to lead a
wife home to his father's hearth and to provide against the extinction of
the noble race of which he was the sole representative. Ephraim was the
son of his sister.

Filled with the happiest thoughts, he had advanced toward Tannis and, on
reaching the goal of all his hopes and wishes, found it lying before him
like a ripening grain-field devastated by hail and swarms of locusts.

As if in derision, fate led him first to the Hebrew quarter. A heap of
dusty ruins marked the site of the house where he had spent his
childhood, and for which his heart had longed; and where his loved ones
had watched his departure, beggars were now greedily searching for
plunder among the debris.

The first man to greet him in Tanis was Kasana's father. Instead of a
friendly glance from her eyes, he had received from him tidings that
pierced his inmost heart. He had expected to bring home a wife, and the
house where she was to reign as mistress was razed to the ground. The
father, for whose blessing he longed, and who was to have been gladdened
by his advancement, had journeyed far away and must henceforward be the
foe of the sovereign to whom he owed his prosperity.

He had been proud of rising, despite his origin, to place and power. Now
he would be able, as leader of a great host, to show the prowess of which
he was capable. His inventive brain had never lacked schemes which, if
executed by his superiors, would have had good results; now he could
fulfil them according to his own will, and instead of the tool become the
guiding power.

These reflections had awakened a keen sense of exultation in his breast
and winged his steps on his homeward march and, now that he had reached
the goal, so long desired, must he turn back to join the shepherds and
builders to whom--it now seemed a sore misfortune--he belonged by the
accident of birth and ancestry, though, denial was futile, he felt as
utterly alien to the Hebrews as he was to the Libyans whom he had
confronted on the battle-field. In almost every pursuit he valued, he had
nothing in common with his people. He had believed he might truthfully
answer yes to his father's enquiry whether he had returned a Hebrew, yet
he now felt it would be only a reluctant and half-hearted assent.

He clung with his whole soul to the standards beneath which he had gone
to battle and might now himself lead to victory. Was it possible to
wrench his heart from them, renounce what his own deeds had won? Yet
Eliab's granddaughter had told him that the Hebrews expected him to leave
the army and join them. A message from his father must soon reach
him--and among the Hebrews a son never opposed a parent's command.

There was still another to whom implicit obedience was due, Pharaoh, to
whom he had solemnly vowed loyal service, sworn to follow his summons
without hesitation or demur, through fire and water, by day and night.

How often he had branded the soldier who deserted to the foe or rebelled
against the orders of his commander as a base scoundrel and villain, and
by his orders many a renegade from his standard had died a shameful death
on the gallows under his own eyes. Was he now to commit the deed for
which he had despised and killed others? His prompt decision was known
throughout the army, how quickly in the most difficult situations he
could resolve upon the right course and carry it into action; but during
this dark and lonely hour of the night he seemed to himself a mere
swaying reed, and felt as helpless as a forsaken orphan.

Wrath against himself preyed upon him, and when he thrust a spear into
the flames, scattering the embers and sending a shower of bright sparks
upward, it was rage at his own wavering will that guided his hand.

Had recent events imposed upon him the virile duty of vengeance, doubt
and hesitation would have vanished and his father's summons would have
spurred him on to action; but who had been the heaviest sufferers here?
Surely it was the Egyptians whom Moses' curse had robbed of thousands of
beloved lives, while the Hebrews had escaped their revenge by flight. His
wrath had been kindled by the destruction of the Hebrews' houses, but he
saw no sufficient cause for a bloody revenge, when he remembered the
unspeakable anguish inflicted upon Pharaoh and his subjects by the men of
his own race.

Nay; he had nothing to avenge; he seemed to himself like a man who
beholds his father and mother in mortal peril, owns that he cannot save
both, yet knows that while staking his life to rescue one he must leave
the other to perish. If he obeyed the summons of his people, he would
lose his honor, which he had kept as untarnished as his brazen helm, and
with it the highest goal of his life; if he remained loyal to Pharaoh and
his oath, he must betray his own race, have all his future days darkened
by his father's curse, and resign the brightest dream he cherished; for
Miriam was a true child of her people and he would be blest indeed if her
lofty soul could be as ardent in love as it was bitter in hate.

Stately and beautiful, but with gloomy eyes and hand upraised in warning,
her image rose before his mental vision as he sat gazing over the
smouldering fire out into the darkness. And now the pride of his manhood
rebelled, and it seemed base cowardice to cast aside, from dread of a
woman's wrath and censure, all that a warrior held most dear.

"Nay, nay," he murmured, and the scale containing duty, love, and filial
obedience suddenly kicked the beam. He was what he was--the leader of ten
thousand men in Pharaoh's army. He had vowed fealty to him--and to none
other. Let his people fly from the Egyptian yoke, if they desired. He,
Hosea, scorned flight. Bondage had sorely oppressed them, but the highest
in the land had received him as an equal and held him worthy of the
loftiest honor. To repay them with treachery and desertion was foreign to
his nature and, drawing a long breath, he sprang to his feet with the
conviction that he had chosen aright. A fair woman and the weak yearning
of a loving heart should not make him a recreant to grave duties and the
loftiest purposes of his life.

"I will stay!" cried a loud voice in his breast. "Father is wise and
kind, and when he learns the reasons for my choice he will approve them
and bless, instead of cursing me. I will write to him, and the boy Miriam
sent me shall be the messenger."

A call from the tent startled him and when, springing up, he glanced at
the stars, he found that he had forgotten his duty to the suffering lad
and hurried to his couch.

Ephraim was sitting up in his bed, watching for him, and exclaimed: "I
have been waiting a long, long time to see you. So many thoughts crowd my
brain and, above all, Miriam's message. I can get no rest until I have
delivered it--so listen now."

Hosea nodded assent and, after drinking the healing potion handed to him,
Ephraim began:

"Miriam the daughter of Amram and Jochebed greets the son of Nun the
Ephraimite. Thy name is Hosea, 'the Help,' and the Lord our God hath
chosen thee to be the helper of His people. But henceforward, by His
command, thou shalt be called Joshua,--[Jehoshua, he who helps
Jehova]--the help of Jehovah; for through Miriam's lips the God of her
fathers, who is the God of thy fathers likewise, bids thee be the sword
and buckler of thy people. In Him dwells all power, and he promises to
steel thine arm that He may smite the foe."

Ephraim had begun in a low voice, but gradually his tones grew more
resonant and the last words rang loudly and solemnly through the
stillness of the night.

Thus had Miriam uttered them, laying her hands on the lad's head and
gazing earnestly into his face with eyes deep and dark as night, and
while repeating them he had felt as though some secret power were
constraining him to shout them aloud to Hosea, just as he had heard them
from the lips of the prophetess. Then, with a sigh of relief, he turned
his face toward the canvas wall of the tent, saying quietly:

"Now I will go to sleep."

But Hosea laid his hand on his shoulder, exclaiming imperiously: "Say it
again."

The youth obeyed, but this time he repeated the words in a low, careless
tone, then saying beseechingly:

"Let me rest now," put his hand under his cheek and closed his eyes.

Hosea let him have his way, carefully applied a fresh bandage to his
burning head, extinguished the light, and flung more fuel on the
smouldering fire outside; but the alert, resolute man performed every act
as if in a dream. At last he sat down, and propping his elbows on his
knees and his head in his hands, stared alternately, now into vacancy,
and anon into the flames.

Who was this God who summoned him through Miriam's lips to be, under His
guidance, the sword and shield of His people?

He was to be known by a new name, and in the minds of the Egyptians the
name was everything "Honor to the name of Pharaoh," not "Honor to
Tharaoh" was spoken and written. And if henceforward he was to be called
Joshua, the behest involved casting aside his former self, and becoming a
new man.

The will of the God of his fathers announced to him by Miriam meant no
less a thing than the command to transform himself from the Egyptian his
life had made him, into the Hebrew he had been when a lad. He must learn
to act and feel like an Israelite! Miriam's summons called him back to
his people. The God of his race, through her, commanded him to fulfil his
father's expectations. Instead of the Egyptian troops whom he must
forsake, he was in future to lead the men of his own blood forth to
battle! This was the meaning of her bidding, and when the noble virgin
and prophetess who addressed him, asserted that God Himself spoke through
her lips, it was no idle boast, she was really obeying the will of the
Most High. And now the image of the woman whom he had ventured to love,
rose in unapproachable majesty before him. Many things which he had heard
in his childhood concerning the God of Abraham, and His promises returned
to his mind, and the scale which hitherto had been the heavier, rose
higher and higher. The resolve just matured, now seemed uncertain, and he
again confronted the terrible conflict he had believed was overpast.

How loud, how potent was the call he heard! Ringing in his ears, it
disturbed the clearness and serenity of his mind, and instead of calmly
reflecting on the matter, memories of his boyhood, which he had imagined
were buried long ago, raised their voices, and incoherent flashes of
thought darted through his brain.

Sometimes he felt impelled to turn in prayer to the God who summoned him,
but whenever he attempted to calm himself and uplift his heart and eyes
to Him, he remembered the oath he must break, the soldiers he must
abandon to lead, instead of well-disciplined, brave, obedient bands of
brothers-in-arms, a wretched rabble of cowardly slaves, and rude,
obstinate shepherds, accustomed to the heavy yoke of bondage.

The third hour after midnight had come, the guards had been relieved, and
Hosea thought he might now permit himself a few hours repose. He would
think all these things over again by daylight with his usual clear
judgment, which he strove in vain to obtain now. But when he entered the
tent and heard Ephraim's regular breathing, he fancied that the boy's
solemn message was again echoing in his ears. Startled, he was in the act
of repeating it himself, when loud voices in violent altercation among
the sentinels disturbed the stillness of the night.

The interruption was welcome, and he hurried to the outposts.




CHAPTER VI.

Hogla, the old slave's granddaughter, had come to beseech Hosea to go
with her at once to her grandfather, who had suddenly broken down, and
who feeling the approach of death could not perish without having once
more seen and blessed him.

The warrior told her to wait and, after assuring himself that Ephraim was
sleeping quietly, ordered a trusty man to watch beside his bed and went
away with Hogla.

The girl walked before him, carrying a small lantern, and as its light
fell on her face and figure, he saw how unlovely she was, for the hard
toil of slavery had bowed the poor thing's back before its time. Her
voice had the harsh accents frequently heard in the tones of women whose
strength has been pitilessly tasked; but her words were kind and tender,
and Hosea forgot her appearance when she told him that her lover had gone
with the departing tribes, yet she had remained with her grandparents
because she could not bring herself to leave the old couple alone.
Because she had no beauty no man had sought her for his wife till Assir
came, who did not care for her looks because he toiled industriously,
like herself, and expected her to add to his savings. He would gladly
have stayed with her, but his father had commanded him to go forth, so
there was no choice for them save to obey and part forever.

The words were simple and the accents harsh, yet they pierced the heart
of the man who was preparing to follow his own path in opposition to his
father's will.

As they approached the harbor and Hosea saw the embankments, and the vast
fortified storehouses built by his own people, he remembered the ragged
laborers whom he had so often beheld crouching before the Egyptian
overseers or fighting savagely among themselves. He had heard, too, that
they shrunk from no lies, no fraud to escape their toil, and how
difficult was the task of compelling them to obey and fulfil their duty.

The most repulsive forms among these luckless hordes rose distinctly
before his vision, and the thought that it might henceforward be his
destiny to command such a wretched rabble seemed to him ignominy which
the lowest of his brave officers, the leader of but fifty men, would seek
to avoid. True, Pharaoh's armies contained many a Hebrew mercenary who
had won renown for bravery and endurance; but these men were the sons of
owners of herds or people who had once been shepherds. The toiling
slaves, whose clay huts could be upset by a kick, formed the majority of
those to whom he was required to return.

Resolute in his purpose to remain loyal to the oath which bound him to
the Egyptian standard, yet moved to the very depths of his heart, he
entered the slave's little hut, and his anger rose when he saw old Eliab
sitting up, mixing some wine and water with his own hands. So he had been
summoned from his nephew's sick-bed, and robbed of his night's rest, on a
false pretence, in order that a slave, in his eyes scarcely entitled to
rank as a man, might have his way. Here he himself experienced a specimen
of the selfish craft of which the Egyptians accused his people, and which
certainly did not attract him, Hosea, to them. But the anger of the just,
keen sighted-man quickly subsided at the sight of the girl's unfeigned
joy in her grandfather's speedy recovery. Besides he soon learned from
the old man's aged wife that, shortly after Hogla's departure, she
remembered the wine they had, and as soon as he swallowed the first
draught her husband, whom she had believed had one foot in the grave,
grew better and better. Now he was mixing some more of God's gift to
strengthen himself occasionally by a sip.

Here Eliab interrupted her to say that they owed this and many more
valuable things to the goodness of Nun, Hosea's father, who had given
them, besides their little hut, wine, meal for bread, a milch cow, and
also an ass, so that he could often ride out into the fresh air. He had
likewise left them their granddaughter and some pieces of silver, so that
they could look forward without fear to the end of their days, especially
as they had behind the house a bit of ground, where Hogla meant to raise
radishes, onions, and leeks for their own table. But the best gift of all
was the written document making them and the girl free forever. Ay, Nun
was a true master and father to his people, and the blessing of Jehovah
had followed his gifts; for soon after the departure of the Hebrews, he
and his wife had been brought hither unmolested by the aid of Assir,
Hogla's lover.

"We old people shall die here," Eliab's wife added. But Assir promised
Hogla that he would come back for her when she had discharged her filial
duties to the end.

Then, turning to her granddaughter, she said encouragingly: "And we
cannot live much longer now."

Hogla raised her blue gown to wipe the tears from her eyes, exclaiming

"May it be a long, long time yet. I am young and can wait."

Hosea heard the words, and again it seemed as though the poor, forsaken,
unlovely girl was giving him a lesson.

He had listened patiently to the freed slaves' talk, but his time was
limited and he now asked whether Eliab had summoned him for any special
purpose.

"Ay," he replied; "I was obliged to send, not only to still the yearning
of my old heart, but because my lord Nun commanded me to do so."

"Thou hast attained a grand and noble manhood, and hast now become the
hope of Israel. Thy father promised the slaves and freedmen of his
household that after his death, thou wouldst be heir, lord and master.
His words were full of thy praise, and great rejoicing hailed his
statement that thou wouldst follow the departing Hebrews. And my lord
deigned to command me to tell thee, if thou should'st return ere his
messenger arrived, that Nun, thy father, expected his son. Whithersoever
thy nation may wander, thou art to follow. Toward sunrise, or at latest
by the noon-tide hour, the tribes will tarry to rest at Succoth. He will
conceal in the hollow sycamore that stands in front of Amminadab's house
a letter which will inform thee whither they will next turn their steps.
His blessing and that of our God will attend thy every step."

As Eliab uttered the last words, Hosea bowed his head as if inviting
invisible hands to be laid upon it. Then he thanked the old man and
asked, in subdued tones, whether all the Hebrews had willingly obeyed the
summons to leave house and lands.

His aged wife clasped her hands, exclaiming: "Oh no, my lord, certainly
not. What wailing and weeping filled the air before their departure! Many
refused to go, others fled, or sought some hiding-place. But all
resistance was futile. In the house of our neighbor Deuel--you know
him--his young wife had just given birth to their first son. How was she
to fare on the journey? She wept bitterly and her husband uttered fierce
curses, but it was all in vain. She was put in a cart with her babe, and
as the arrangements went on, both submitted like all the rest--even
Phineas who crept into a pigeon-house with his wife and five children,
and crooked grave-haunting Kusaja. Do you remember her? Adonai! She had
seen father, mother, husband, and three noble sons, all that the Lord had
given her to love, borne to the tomb. They lay side by side in our
burying ground, and every morning and evening she went there and, sitting
on a log of wood which she had rolled close to the gravestones, moved her
lips constantly, not in prayer--no, I have listened often when she did
not know I was near--no; she talked to the dead, as though they could
hear her in the sepulchre, and understand her words like those who walk
alive beneath the sun. She is near seventy, and for thrice seven years
she has gone by the name of grave-haunting Kusaja. It was in sooth a
foolish thing to do; yet perhaps that was why she found it all the harder
to give it up, and go she would not, but hid herself among the bushes.
When Ahieser, the overseer, dragged her out, her wailing made one's heart
sore, yet when the time for departure came, the longing to go seized upon
her also, and she found it as hard to resist as the others."

"What had happened to the poor creatures, what possessed them?" asked
Hosea, interrupting the old wife's speech; for in imagination he again
beheld the people he must lead, if he valued his father's blessing as the
most priceless boon the world could offer, and beheld them in all their
wretchedness.

The startled dame, fearing that she had offended her master's first-born
son, the great and powerful chieftain, stammered:

"What possessed them, my lord? Ah, well--I am but a poor lowly
slave-woman; yet, my lord, had you but seen it. . . . "

"Well, even then?" interrupted the warrior in harsh, impatient tones, for
this was the first time he had ever found himself compelled to act
against his desires and belief.

Eliab tried to come to the assistance of the terrified woman, saying
timidly

"Ah, my lord, no tongue can relate, no human mind can picture it. It came
from the Almighty and, if I could describe how great was its influence on
the souls of the people. . . . "

"Try," Hosea broke in, "but my time is brief. So they were compelled to
depart, and set forth reluctantly on their wanderings. Even the Egyptians
have long known that they obeyed the bidding of Moses and Aaron as the
sheep follow the shepherd. Have those who brought the terrible pestilence
on so many guiltless human beings also wrought the miracle of blinding
the minds of you and of your wife?"

The old man stretched out his hands to the soldier, and answered in a
troubled voice and a tone of the most humble entreaty:

"Oh, my lord, you are my master's first-born son, the greatest and
loftiest of your race, if it is your pleasure you can trample me into the
dust like a beetle, yet I must lift up my voice and say: 'You have heard
false tales!' You were away in foreign lands when mighty things were done
in our midst, and far from Zoan,--[The Hebrew name for Tanis]--as I hear,
when the exodus took place. Any son of our people who witnessed it would
rather his tongue should wither than mock at the marvels the Lord
permitted him to behold. Ah, if you had patience to suffer me to tell the
tale. . . ."

"Speak on!" cried Hosea, astonished at the old man's solemn fervor. Eliab
thanked him with an ardent glance, exclaiming:

"Oh, would that Aaron, or Eleasar, or my lord your father were here in my
stead, or would that Jehovah would bestow on me the might of their
eloquence! But be it as it is! True, I imagine I can again see and hear
everything as though it were happening once more before my eyes, but how
am I to describe it? How can such things be given in words? Yet, with
God's assistance, I will try."

Here he paused and Hosea, noticing that the old man's hands and lips were
trembling, gave him the cup of wine, and Eliab gratefully quaffed it to
the dregs. Then, half-closing his eyes, he began his story and his
wrinkled features grew sharper as he went on:

"My wife has already told you what occurred after the people learned the
command that had been issued. We, too, were among those who lost courage
and murmured. But last night, all who belonged to the household of
Nun--and also the shepherds, the slaves, and the poor--were summoned to a
feast, and there was abundance of roast lamb, fresh, unleavened bread,
and wine, more than usual at the harvest festival, which began that
night, and which you, my lord, have often attended in your boyhood. We
sat rejoicing, and our lord, your father, comforted us, and told us of
the God of our fathers and the wonders He had wrought for them. It was
now His will that we should go forth from this land where we had suffered
contempt and bondage. This was no sacrifice like that of Abraham when, at
the command of the Most High, he had whetted his knife to shed the blood
of his son Isaac, though it would be hard for many of us to quit a home
that had grown dear to us and forego many a familiar custom. But it will
be a great happiness for us all. For, he said, we were not to journey
forth to an unknown country, but to a beautiful region which God Himself
had set apart for us. He had promised us, instead of this place of
bondage, a new and delightful home where we should dwell free men, amid
fruitful fields and rich pastures, which would supply food to every man
and his family and make all hearts rejoice. Just as laborers must work
hard to earn high wages, we must endure a brief period of want and
suffering to gain for ourselves and for our children the beautiful new
home which the Lord had promised. God's own land it must be, for it was a
gift of the Most High.

"Having spoken thus, he blessed us all and promised that thou, too,
wouldst shake the dust from off thy feet, and join us to fight for our
cause with a strong arm as a trained soldier and a dutiful son.

"Shouts of joy rang forth and, when we assembled in the market-place and
found that all the bondmen had escaped from the overseers, many gained
fresh courage. Then Aaron stepped into our midst, stood upon the
auctioneer's bench, and told us with his own lips all that we had heard
from my master Nun at the festival. The words he uttered sounded
sometimes like pealing thunder, and anon like the sweet melody of lutes,
and every one felt that the Lord our God Himself was speaking through
him; for even the most rebellious were so deeply moved that they no
longer complained and murmured. And when he finally announced to the
throng that no erring mortal, but the Lord our God Himself would be our
leader, and described the wonders of the land whose gates He would open
unto us, and where we might live, trammelled by no bondage, as free and
happy men, owing no obedience to any ruler save the God of our fathers
and those whom we ourselves chose for our leaders, every man present felt
as though he were drunk with sweet wine, and, instead of faring forth
across a barren wilderness to an unknown goal, was on the way to a great
festal banquet, prepared by the Most High Himself. Even those who had not
heard Aaron's words were inspired with wondrous faith; men and women
behaved even more joyously and noisily than usual at the harvest
festival, for every heart was overflowing with genuine gratitude.

"The old people caught the universal spirit! Your grandfather Elishama,
bowed by the weight of his hundred years, who, as you know, has long sat
bent and silent in his corner, straightened his drooping form, and with
sparkling eyes poured forth a flood of eloquent words. The spirit of the
Lord had descended upon him and upon us all. I myself felt as though the
vigor of youth had returned to mind and body, and when I passed the
throngs who were preparing to set forth, I saw the young mother Elisheba
in her litter. Her face was as radiant as on her marriage morn, and she
was pressing her nursling to her breast, and rejoicing over his happy
fate in growing up in freedom in the Promised Land. Her spouse, Deuel,
who had poured forth such bitter imprecations, now waved his staff,
kissed his wife and child with tears of joy, and shouted with delight
like a vintager at the harvest season, when jars and wine skins are too
few to hold the blessing. Old grave-haunting Kusaja, who had been dragged
away from the sepulchre of her kindred, was sitting in a cart with other
infirm folk, waving her veil and joining in the hymn of praise Elkanah
and Abiasaph, the sons of Korah, had begun. So they went forth; we who
were left behind fell into each other's arms, uncertain whether the tears
we shed streamed from our eyes for grief or for sheer joy at seeing the
throng of our loved ones so full of hope and gladness.

"So it came to pass.

"As soon as the pitch torches borne at the head of the procession, which
seemed to me to shine more brightly than the lamps lighted by the
Egyptians on the gates of the temple of the great goddess Neith, had
vanished in the darkness, we set out, that we might not delay Assir too
long, and while passing through the streets, which resounded with the
wailing of the citizens, we softly sang the hymn of the sons of Korah,
and great joy and peace filled our hearts, for we knew that the Lord our
God would defend and guide His people."

The old man paused, but his wife and Hogla, who had listened with