nearer and now farther away.  Sometimes it seemed to issue from the
bowels of the earth, and at others to float from some airy height.

Fresh horror seized upon the old man.  Grasping his grandson's right hand
in his, he pointed with his left to the necropolis, exclaiming in
tremulous tones: "The dead are too great a multitude.  The under-world is
overflowing, as the river does when its bed is not wide enough for the
waters from the south.  How they swarm and surge and roll onward!  How
they scatter and sway to and fro.  They are the souls of the thousands
whom grim death has snatched away, laden with the curse of the Hebrew,
unburied, unshielded from corruption, to descend the rounds of the ladder
leading to the eternal world."

"Yes,  yes,  those  are  their  wandering  ghosts," shrieked the youth in
absolute faith, snatching his hand from the grey-beard's grasp and
striking his burning brow, exclaiming, almost incapable of speech in his
horror: "Ay, those are the souls of the damned.  The wind has swept them
into the sea, whose waters cast them forth again upon the land, but the
sacred earth spurns them and flings them into the air.  The pure ether of
Shu hurls  them  back to the ground and  now--oh look, listen--they are
seeking the way to the wilderness."

"To the fire!"  cried the old astrologer.  "Purify them, ye flames;
cleanse them, water."

The youth joined his grandfather's form of exorcism, and while still
chanting together, the trap-door leading to this observatory on the top
of the highest gate of the temple was opened, and a priest of inferior
rank called: "Cease thy toil.  Who cares to question the stars when the
light of life is departing from all the denizens of earth!"

The old man listened silently till the priest, in faltering accents,
added that the astrologer's wife had sent him, then he stammered:

"Hora?  Has my son, too, been stricken?"

The messenger bent his head, and the two listeners wept bitterly, for the
astrologer had lost his first-born son and the youth a beloved father.

But as the lad, shivering with the chill of fever, sank ill and powerless
on the old man's breast, the latter hastily released himself from his
embrace and hurried to the trap-door.  Though the priest had announced
himself to be the herald of death, a father's heart needs more than the
mere words of another ere resigning all hope of the life of his child.

Down the stone stairs, through the lofty halls and wide courts of the
temple he hurried, closely followed by the youth, though his trembling
limbs could scarcely support his fevered body.  The blow that had fallen
upon his own little circle had made the old man forget the awful vision
which perchance menaced the whole universe with destruction; but his
grandson could not banish the sight and, when he had passed the fore-
court and was approaching the outermost pylons his imagination, under the
tension of anxiety and grief, made the shadows of the obelisks appear to
be dancing, while the two stone statues of King Rameses, on the corner
pillars of the lofty gate, beat time with the crook they held in their
hands.

Then the fever struck the youth to the ground.  His face was distorted by
the convulsions which tossed his limbs to and fro, and the old man,
failing on his knees, strove to protect the beautiful head, covered with
clustering curls, from striking the stone flags, moaning under his breath
"Now fate has overtaken him too."

Then calming himself, he shouted again and again for help, but in vain.
At last, as he lowered his tones to seek comfort in prayer, he heard the
sound of voices in the avenue of sphinxes beyond the pylons, and fresh
hope animated his heart.

Who was coming at so late an hour?

Loud wails of grief blended with the songs of the priests, the clinking
and tinkling of the metal sistrums, shaken by the holy women in the
service of the god, and the measured tread of men praying as they marched
in the procession which was approaching the temple.

Faithful to the habits of a long life, the astrologer raised his eyes
and, after a glance at the double row of granite pillars, the colossal
statues and obelisks in the fore-court, fixed them on the starlit skies.
Even amid his grief a bitter smile hovered around his sunken lips; to-
night the gods themselves were deprived of the honors which were their
due.

For on this, the first night after the new moon in the month of
Pharmuthi, the sanctuary in bygone years was always adorned with flowers.
As soon as the darkness of this moonless night passed away, the high
festival of the spring equinox and the harvest celebration would begin.

A grand procession in honor of the great goddess Neith, of Rennut, who
bestows the blessings of the fields, and of Horus at whose sign the seeds
begin to germinate, passed, in accordance with the rules prescribed by
the Book of the Divine Birth of the Sun, through the city to the river
and harbor; but to-day the silence of death reigned throughout the
sanctuary, whose courts at this hour were usually thronged with men,
women, and children, bringing offerings to lay on the very spot where
death's finger had now touched his grandson's heart.

A flood of light streamed into the vast space, hitherto but dimly
illumined by a few lamps.  Could the throng be so frenzied as to imagine
that the joyous festival might be celebrated, spite of the unspeakable
horrors of the night.

Yet, the evening before, the council of priests had resolved that, on
account of the rage of the merciless pestilence, the temple should not be
adorned nor the procession be marshalled.  In the afternoon many whose
houses had been visited by the plague had remained absent, and now while
he, the astrologer, had been watching the course of the stars, the pest
had made its way into this sanctuary, else why had it been forsaken by
the watchers and the other astrologers who had entered with him at
sunset, and whose duty it was to watch through the night?

He again turned with tender solicitude to the sufferer, but instantly
started to his feet, for the gates were flung wide open and the light of
torches and lanterns streamed into the court.  A swift glance at the sky
told him that it was a little after midnight, yet his fears seemed to
have been true--the priests were crowding into the temples to prepare for
the harvest festival to-morrow.

But he was wrong.  When had they ever entered the sanctuary for this
purpose in orderly procession, solemnly chanting hymns?  Nor was the
train composed only of servants of the deity.  The population had joined
them, for the shrill lamentations of women and wild cries of despair,
such as he had never heard before in all his long life within these
sacred walls, blended in the solemn litany.

Or were his senses playing him false?  Was the groaning throng of
restless spirits which his grandson had pointed out to him from the
observatory, pouring into the sanctuary of the gods?

New horror seized upon him; with arms flung upward to bid the specters
avaunt he muttered the exorcism against the wiles of evil spirits.  But
he soon let his hands fall again; for among the throng he noted some of
his friends who yesterday, at least, had still walked among living men.
First, the tall form of the second prophet of the god, then the women
consecrated to the service of Amon-Ra, the singers and the holy fathers
and, when he perceived behind the singers, astrologers, and pastophori
his own brother-in-law, whose house had yesterday been spared by the
plague, he summoned fresh courage and spoke to him.  But his voice was
smothered by the shouts of the advancing multitude.

The courtyard was now lighted, but each individual was so engrossed by
his own sorrows that no one noticed the old astrologer.  Tearing the
cloak from his shivering limbs to make a pillow for the lad's tossing
head, he heard, while tending him with fatherly affection, fierce
imprecations on the Hebrews who had brought this woe on Pharaoh and his
people, mingling with the chants and shouts of the approaching crowd and,
recurring again and again, the name of Prince Rameses, the heir to the
throne, while the tone in which it was uttered, the formulas of
lamentation associated with it, announced the tidings that the eyes of
the monarch's first-born son were closed in death.

The astrologer gazed at his grandson's wan features with increasing
anxiety, and even while the wailing for the prince rose louder and louder
a slight touch of gratification stirred his soul at the thought of the
impartial justice Death metes out alike to the sovereign on his throne
and the beggar by the roadside.  He now realized what had brought the
noisy multitude to the temple!

With as much swiftness as his aged limbs would permit, he hastened
forward to meet the mourners; but ere he reached them he saw the gate-
keeper and his wife come out of their house, carrying between them on a
mat the dead body of a boy.  The husband held one end, his fragile little
wife the other, and the gigantic warder was forced to stoop low to keep
the rigid form in a horizontal position and not let it slip toward the
woman.  Three children, preceded by a little girl carrying a lantern,
closed the mournful procession.

Perhaps no one would have noticed the group, had not the gate-keeper's
little wife shrieked so wildly and piteously that no one could help
hearing her lamentations.  The second prophet of Amon, and then his
companions, turned toward them.  The procession halted, and as some of
the priests approached the corpse the gate-keeper shouted loudly: "Away,
away from the plague!  It has stricken our first-born son."

The wife meantime had snatched the lantern from her little girl's hand
and casting its light full on the dead boy's rigid face, she screamed:

"The god hath suffered it to happen.  Ay, he permitted the horror to
enter beneath his own roof.  Not his will, but the curse of the stranger
rules us and our lives.  Look, this was our first-born son, and the
plague has also stricken two of the temple-servants.  One already lies
dead in our room, and there lies Kamus, grandson of the astrologer
Rameri.  We heard the old man call, and saw what was happening; but who
can prop another's house when his own is falling?  Take heed while there
is time; for the gods have opened their own sanctuaries to the horror.
If the whole world crumbles into ruin, I shall neither marvel nor grieve.
My lord priests, I am only a poor lowly woman, but am I not right when I
ask: Do our gods sleep, or has some one paralyzed them, or what are they
doing that they leave us and our children in the power of the base Hebrew
brood?"

"Overthrow them!  Down with the foreigners!  Death to the sorcerer Mesu,
--[Mesu is the Egyptian name of Moses]--hurl him into the sea."  Such
were the imprecations that followed the woman's curse, as an echo follows
a shout, and the aged astrologer's brother-in-law Hornecht, captain of
the archers, whose hot blood seethed in his veins at the sight of the
dying form of his beloved nephew, waved his short sword, crying
frantically: "Let all men who have hearts follow me.  Upon them!  A life
for a life!  Ten Hebrews for each Egyptian whom the sorcerer has slain!"

As a flock rushes into a fire when the ram leads the way, the warrior's
summons fired the throng.  Women forced themselves in front of the men,
pressing after him into the gateway, and when the servants of the temple
lingered to await the verdict of the prophet of Amon, the latter drew his
stately figure to its full height, and said calmly: "Let all who wear
priestly garments remain and pray with me.  The populace is heaven's
instrument to mete out vengeance.  We will remain here to pray for their
success."




CHAPTER II.

Bai, the second prophet of Amon, who acted as the representative of the
aged and feeble chief-prophet and high-priest Rui, went into the holy of
holies, the throng of inferior servants of the divinity pursued their
various duties, and the frenzied mob rushed through the streets of the
city towards the distant Hebrew quarter.

As the flood, pouring into the valley, sweeps everything before it, the
people, rushing to seek vengeance, forced every one they met to join
them.  No Egyptian from whom death had snatched a loved one failed to
follow the swelling torrent, which increased till hundreds became
thousands.  Men, women, and children, freedmen and slaves, winged by the
ardent longing to bring death and destruction on the hated Hebrews,
darted to the remote quarter where they dwelt.

How the workman had grasped a hatchet, the housewife an axe, they
themselves scarcely knew.  They were dashing forward to deal death and
ruin and had had no occasion to search for weapons--they had been close
at hand.

The first to feel the weight of their vengeance must be Nun, an aged
Hebrew, rich in herds, loved and esteemed by many an Egyptian whom he had
benefitted--but when hate and revenge speak, gratitude shrinks timidly
into the background.

His property, like the houses and hovels of his people, was in the
strangers' quarter, west of Tanis, and lay nearest to the streets
inhabited by the Egyptians themselves.

Usually at this hour herds of cattle and flocks of sheep were being
watered or driven to pasture and the great yard before his house was
filled with cattle, servants of both sexes, carts, and agricultural
implements.  The owner usually overlooked the departure of the flocks and
herds, and the mob had marked him and his family for the first victims of
their fury.

The swiftest of the avengers had now reached his extensive farm-
buildings, among them Hornecht, captain of the archers, brother-in-law of
the old astrologer.  House and barns were brightly illumined by the first
light of the young day.  A stalwart smith kicked violently on the stout
door; but the unbolted sides yielded so easily that he was forced to
cling to the door-post to save himself from falling.  Others, Hornecht
among them, pressed past him into the yard.  What did this mean?

Had some new spell been displayed to attest the power of the Hebrew
leader Mesu, who had brought such terrible plagues on the land,--and of
his God.

The yard was absolutely empty.  The stalls contained a few dead cattle
and sheep, killed because they had been crippled in some way, while a
lame lamb limped off at sight of the mob.  The carts and wagons, too, had
vanished.  The lowing, bleating throng which the priests had imagined to
be the souls of the damned was the Hebrew host, departing by night from
their old home with all their flocks under the guidance of Moses.

The captain of the archers dropped his sword, and a spectator might have
believed that the sight was a pleasant surprise to him; but his neighbor,
a clerk from the king's treasure-house, gazed around the empty space with
the disappointed air of a man who has been defrauded.

The flood of schemes and passions, which had surged so high during the
night, ebbed under the clear light of day.  Even the soldier's quickly
awakened wrath had long since subsided into composure.  The populace
might have wreaked their utmost fury on the other Hebrews, but not upon
Nun, whose son, Hosea, had been his comrade in arms, one of the most
distinguished leaders in the army, and an intimate family friend.  Had he
thought of him and foreseen that his father's dwelling would be first
attacked, he would never have headed the mob in their pursuit of
vengeance; nay, he bitterly repented having forgotten the deliberate
judgment which befitted his years.

While many of the throng began to plunder and destroy Nun's deserted
home, men and women came to report that not a soul was to be found in any
of the neighboring dwellings.  Others told of cats cowering on the
deserted hearthstones, of slaughtered cattle and shattered furniture; but
at last the furious avengers dragged out a Hebrew with his family and a
half-witted grey-haired woman found hidden among some straw.  The crone,
amid imbecile laughter, said her people had made themselves hoarse
calling her, but Meliela was too wise to walk on and on as they meant
to do; besides her feet were too tender, and she had not even a pair of
shoes.

The man, a frightfully ugly Jew, whom few of his own race would have
pitied, protested, sometimes with a humility akin to fawning, sometimes
with the insolence which was a trait of his character, that he had
nothing to do with the god of lies in whose name the seducer Moses had
led away his people to ruin; he himself, his wife, and his child had
always been on friendly terms with the Egyptians.  Indeed, many knew him,
he was a money-lender and when the rest of his nation had set forth on
their pilgrimage, be had concealed himself, hoping to pursue his
dishonest calling and sustain no loss.

Some of his debtors, however, were among the infuriated populace, though
even without their presence he was a doomed man; for he was the first
person on whom the excited mob could show that they were resolved upon
revenge.  Rushing upon him with savage yells, the lifeless bodies of the
luckless wretch and his family were soon strewn over the ground.  Nobody
knew who had done this first bloody deed; too many had dashed forward at
once.

Not a few others who had remained in the houses and huts also fell
victims to the people's thirst for vengeance, though many had time to
escape, and while streams of blood were flowing, axes were wielded, and
walls and doors were battered down with beams and posts to efface the
abodes of the detested race from the earth.

The burning embers brought by some frantic women were extinguished and
trampled out; the more prudent warned them of the peril that would menace
their own homes and the whole city of Tanis, if the strangers' quarter
should be fired.

So the Hebrews' dwellings escaped the flames; but as the sun mounted
higher dense clouds of white dust shrouded the abodes they had forsaken,
and where, only yesterday, thousands of people had possessed happy homes
and numerous herds had quenched their thirst in fresh waters, the glowing
soil was covered with rubbish and stone, shattered beams, and broken
woodwork.  Dogs and cats left behind by their owners wandered among the
ruins and were joined by women and children who lived in the beggars'
hovels on the edge of the necropolis close by, and now, holding their
hands over their mouths, searched amid the stifling dust and rubbish for
any household utensil or food which might have been left by the fugitives
and overlooked by the mob.

During the afternoon Fai, the second prophet of Amon, was carried past
the ruined quarter.  He did not come to gloat over the spectacle of
destruction, it was his nearest way from the necropolis to his home.
Yet a satisfied smile hovered around his stern mouth as he noticed how
thoroughly the people had performed their work.  His own purpose, it is
true, had not been fulfilled, the leader of the fugitives had escaped
their vengeance, but hate, though never sated, can yet be gratified.
Even the smallest pangs of an enemy are a satisfaction, and the priest
had just come from the grieving Pharaoh.  He had not succeeded in
releasing him entirely from the bonds of the Hebrew magician, but he had
loosened them.

The resolute, ambitious man, by no means wont to hold converse with
himself, had repeated over and over again, while sitting alone in the
sanctuary reflecting on what had occurred and what yet remained to be
done, these little words, and the words were: "Bless me too!"

Pharaoh had uttered them, and the entreaty had been addressed neither to
old Rui, the chief priest, nor to himself, the only persons who could
possess the privilege of blessing the monarch, nay--but to the most
atrocious wretch that breathed, to the foreigner the Hebrew, Mesu, whom
he hated more than any other man on earth.

"Bless me too!"  The pious entreaty, which wells so trustingly from the
human heart in the hour of anguish, had pierced his soul like a dagger.
It had seemed as if such a petition, uttered by the royal lips to such a
man, had broken the crozier in the hand of the whole body of Egyptian
priests, stripped the panther-skin from their shoulders, and branded with
shame the whole people whom he loved.

He knew full well that Moses was one of the wisest sages who had ever
graduated from the Egyptian schools, knew that Pharaoh was completely
under the thrall of this man who had grown up in the royal household and
been a friend of his father Rameses the Great.  He had seen the monarch
pardon deeds committed by Moses which would have cost the life of any
other mortal, though he were the highest noble in the land--and what must
the Hebrew be to Pharaoh, the sun-god incarnate on the throne of the
world, when standing by the death-bed of his own son, he could yield to
the impulse to uplift his hands to him and cry "Bless me too!"

He had told himself all these things, maturely considered them, yet he
would not yield to the might of the strangers.  The destruction of this
man and all his race was in his eyes the holiest, most urgent duty--to
accomplish which he would not shrink even from assailing the throne.
Nay, in his eyes Pharaoh Menephtah's shameful entreaty: "Bless me too!"
had deprived him of all the rights of sovereignty.

Moses had murdered Pharaoh's first-born son, but he and the aged chief-
priest of Amon held the weal or woe of the dead prince's soul in their
hands,--a weapon sharp and strong, for he knew the monarch's weak and
vacillating heart.  If the high-priest of Amon--the only man whose
authority surpassed his own--did not thwart him by some of the
unaccountable whims of age, it would be the merest trifle to force
Pharaoh to yield; but any concession made to-day would be withdrawn
to-morrow, should the Hebrew succeed in coming between the irresolute
monarch and his Egyptian advisers.  This very day the unworthy son of the
great Rameses had covered his face and trembled like a timid fawn at the
bare mention of the sorcerer's name, and to-morrow he might curse him and
pronounce a death sentence upon him.  Perhaps he might be induced to do
this, and on the following one he would recall him and again sue for his
blessing.

Down with such monarchs!  Let the feeble reed on the throne be hurled
into the dust!  Already he had chosen a successor from among the princes
of the blood, and when the time was ripe--when Rui, the high-priest of
Amon, had passed the limits of life decreed by the gods to mortals and
closed his eyes in death, he, Bai, would occupy his place, a new life
for Egypt, and Moses and his race would commence would perish.

While the prophet was absorbed in these reflections a pair of ravens
fluttered around his head and, croaking loudly, alighted on the dusty
ruins of one of the shattered houses.  He involuntarily glanced around
him and noted that they had perched on the corpse of a murdered Hebrew,
lying half concealed amid the rubbish.  A smile which the priests of
lower rank who surrounded his litter knew not how to interpret, flitted
over his shrewd, defiant countenance.




CHAPTER III.

Hornecht, commander of the archers, was among the prophet's companions.
Indeed they were on terms of intimacy, for the soldier was a leader amid
the nobles who had conspired to dethrone Pharaoh.

As they approached Nun's ruined dwelling, the prophet pointed to the
wreck and said: "The former owner of this abode is the only Hebrew I
would gladly spare.  He was a man of genuine worth, and his son,
Hosea.  .  .  ."

"Will be one of us,"  the captain  interrupted.  "There are few better
men in Pharaoh's army, and," he added, lowering his voice, "I rely on him
when the decisive hour comes."

"We will discuss  that  before  fewer witnesses," replied Bai.  "But I am
greatly indebted to him.  During the Libyan war--you are aware of the
fact--I fell into the hands of the enemy, and Hosea, at the head of his
little troop, rescued me from the savage hordes."  Sinking his tones, he
went on in his most instructive manner, as though apologizing for the
mischief wrought: "Such is the course of earthly affairs!  Where a whole
body of men merit punishment, the innocent must suffer with the guilty.
Under such circumstances the gods themselves cannot separate the
individual from the multitude; nay, even the innocent animals share the
penalty.  Look at the flocks of doves fluttering around the ruins; they
are seeking their cotes in vain.  And the cat with her kittens yonder.
Go and take them, Beki; it is our duty to save the sacred animals from
starving to death."

And this man, who had just been planning the destruction of so many of
his fellow-mortals, was so warmly interested in kindly caring for the
senseless beasts, that he stopped his litter and watched his servants
catch the cats.

This was less quickly accomplished than he had hoped; for one had taken
refuge in the nearest cellar, whose opening was too narrow for the men to
follow.  The youngest, a slender Nubian, undertook the task; but he had
scarcely approached the hole when he started back, calling: "There is a
human being there who seems to be alive.  Yes, he is raising his hand.
It is a boy or a youth, and assuredly no slave; his head is covered with
long waving locks, and--a sunbeam is shining into the cellar--I can see a
broad gold circlet on his arm."

"Perhaps it is one of Nun's kindred, who has been forgotten," said
Hornecht, and Bai eagerly added:

"It is an interposition from the  gods!  Their sacred animals have
pointed out the way by which I can render a service to the man to whom I
am so much indebted.  Try to get in, Beki, and bring the youth out."

Meanwhile the Nubian had removed the stone whose fall had choked the
opening, and soon after he lifted toward his companions a motionless
young form which they brought into the open air and bore to a well whose
cool water speedily restored consciousness.

As he regained his senses, he rubbed his eyes, gazed around him
bewildered, as if uncertain where he was, then his head drooped as though
overwhelmed with grief and horror, revealing that the locks at the back
were matted together with black clots of dried blood.

The prophet had the deep wound, inflicted on the lad by a falling stone,
washed at the well and, after it had been bandaged, summoned him to his
own litter, which was protected from the sun.

The young Hebrew, bringing a message, had arrived at the house of his
grandfather Nun, before sunrise, after a long night walk from Pithom,
called by the Hebrews Succoth, but finding it deserted had lain down in
one of the rooms to rest a while.  Roused by the shouts of the infuriated
mob, he had heard the curses on his race which rang through the whole
quarter and fled to the cellar.  The roof, which had injured him in its
fall, proved his deliverance; for the clouds of dust which had concealed
everything as it came down hid him from the sight of the rioters.

The prophet looked at him intently and, though the youth was unwashed,
wan, and disfigured by the bloody bandage round his head, he saw that the
lad he had recalled to life was a handsome, well-grown boy just nearing
manhood.

His sympathy was roused, and his stern glance softened as he asked kindly
whence he came and what had brought him to Tanis; for the rescued youth's
features gave no clue to his race.  He might readily have declared
himself an Egyptian, but he frankly admitted that he was a grandson of
Nun.  He had just attained his eighteenth year, his name was Ephraim,
like that of his forefather, the son of Joseph, and he had come to visit
his grandfather.  The words expressed steadfast self-respect and pride in
his illustrious ancestry.

He delayed a short time ere answering the question whether he brought a
message; but soon collected his thoughts and, looking the prophet
fearlessly in the face, replied:

"Whoever you may be, I have been taught to speak the truth, so I will
tell you that I have another relative in Tanis, Hosea, the son of Nun, a
chief in Pharaoh's army, for whom I have a message."

"And I will tell you," the priest replied, "that it was for the sake of
this very Hosea I tarried here and ordered my servants to bring you out
of the ruined house.  I owe him a debt of gratitude, and though most of
your nation have committed deeds worthy of the harshest punishment, for
the sake of his worth you shall remain among us free and unharmed."

The boy raised his eyes to the priest with a proud, fiery glance, but ere
he could find words, Bai went on with encouraging kindness.

"I believe I can read in your face, my lad, that you have come to seek
admittance to Pharaoh's army under your uncle Hosea.  Your figure is
well-suited to the trade of war, and you surely are not wanting in
courage."

A smile of flattered vanity rested on Ephraim's lips, and toying with the
broad gold bracelet on his arm, perhaps unconsciously, he replied with
eagerness:

"Ay, my lord, I have often proved my courage in the hunting field; but at
home we have plenty of sheep and cattle, which even now I call my own,
and it seems to me a more enviable lot to wander freely and rule the
shepherds than to obey the commands of others."

"Aha!" said the priest.  "Perhaps  Hosea may instil different and better
views.  To rule--a lofty ambition for youth.  The misfortune is that we
who have attained it are but servants whose burdens grow heavier with the
increasing number of those who obey us.  You understand me, Hornecht, and
you, my lad, will comprehend my meaning later, when you become the palm-
tree the promise of your youth foretells.  But we are losing time.  Who
sent you to Hosea?"

The youth cast down his eyes irresolutely, but when the prophet broke the
silence with the query: "And what has become of the frankness you were
taught?"  he responded promptly and resolutely:

"I came for the sake of a woman whom you know not."

"A woman?"  the prophet repeated, casting an enquiring glance at
Hornecht.  "When a bold warrior and a fair woman seek each other, the
Hathors"--[The Egyptian goddesses of love, who are frequently represented
with cords in their hands,]--are apt to appear and use the binding cords;
but it does not befit a servant of the divinity to witness such goings
on, so I forbear farther questioning.  Take charge of the lad, captain,
and aid him to deliver his message to Hosea.  The only doubt is whether
he is in the city."

"No," the soldier answered, "but he is expected with thousands of his men
at the armory to-day."

"Then may the Hathors, who are partial to love messengers, bring these
two together to-morrow at latest," said the priest.

But the lad indignantly retorted: "I am the bearer of no love message."

The prophet, pleased with the bold rejoinder, answered pleasantly:
"I had forgotten that I was accosting a young shepherd-prince."  Then he
added in graver tones: "When you have found Hosea, greet him from me and
tell him that Bai, the second prophet of Amon sought to discharge a part
of the debt of gratitude he owed for his release from the hands of the
Libyans by extending his protection to you, his nephew.  Perhaps, my
brave boy, you do not know that you have escaped as if by a miracle a
double peril; the savage populace would no more have spared your life
than would the stifling dust of the falling houses.  Remember this, and
tell Hosea also from me, Bai, that I am sure when he beholds the woe
wrought by the magic arts of one of your race on the house of Pharaoh,
to which he vowed fealty, and with it on this city and the whole country,
he will tear himself with abhorrence from his kindred.  They have fled
like cowards, after dealing the sorest blows, robbing of their dearest
possessions those among whom they dwelt in peace, whose protection they
enjoyed, and who for long years have given them work and ample food.  All
this they have done and, if I know him aright, he will turn his back upon
men who have committed such crimes.  Tell him also that this has been
voluntarily done by the Hebrew officers and men under the command of the
Syrian Aarsu.  This very morning--Hosea will have heard the news from
other sources--they offered sacrifices not only to Baal and Seth, their
own gods, whom so many of you were ready to serve ere the accursed
sorcerer, Mesu, seduced you, but also to Father Amon and the sacred nine
of our eternal deities.  If he will do the same, we will rise hand in
hand to the highest place, of that he may be sure--and well he merits it.
The obligation still due him I shall gratefully discharge in other ways,
which must for the present remain secret.  But you may tell your uncle
now from me that I shall find means to protect Nun, his noble father,
when the vengeance of the gods and of Pharaoh falls upon the rest of your
race.  Already--tell him this also--the sword is whetted, and a pitiless
judgment is impending.  Bid him ask himself what fugitive shepherds can
do against the power of the army among whose ablest leaders he is
numbered.  Is your father still alive, my son?"

"No, he was borne to his last resting-place long ago," replied the youth
in a faltering voice.

Was the fever of his wound attacking him?  Or did the shame of belonging
to a race capable of acts so base overwhelm the young heart?  Or did the
lad cling to his kindred, and was it wrath and resentment at hearing them
so bitterly reviled which made his color vary from red to pale and roused
such a tumult in his soul that he was scarcely capable of speech?  No
matter!  This lad was certainly no suitable bearer of the message the
prophet desired to send to his uncle, and Bai beckoned to Hornecht to
come with him under the shadow of a broad-limbed sycamore-tree.

The point was to secure Hosea's services in the army at any cost, so he
laid his hand on his friend's shoulder, saying:

"You know that it was my wife who won you and others over to our cause.
She serves us better and more eagerly than many a man, and while I
appreciate your daughter's beauty, she never tires of lauding the winning
charm of her innocence."

"And Kasana is to take part in the plot?"  cried the soldier angrily.

"Not as an active worker, like my wife,--certainly not."

"She would be ill-suited to such a task," replied the other in a calmer
tone, "she is scarcely more than a child."

"Yet through her aid we might bring to our cause a man whose good-will
seems to me priceless."

"You mean Hosea?"  asked the captain, his brow darkening again, but the
prophet added:

"And if I do?  Is he still a real Hebrew?  Can you deem it unworthy the
daughter of a distinguished warrior to bestow her band on a man who, if
our plans prosper, will be commander-in-chief of all the troops in the
land?"

"No, my lord!"  cried Hornecht.  "But one of my motives for rebelling
against Pharaoh and upholding Siptah is that the king's mother was a
foreigner, while our own blood courses through Siptah's veins.
The mother decides the race to which a man belongs, and Hosea's
mother was a Hebrew woman.  He is my friend, I value his talents;
Kasana likes him.  .  .  ."

"Yet you desire a more distinguished son-in-law?"  interrupted his
companion.  "How is our arduous enterprise to prosper, if those who are
to peril their lives for its success consider the first sacrifice too
great?  You say that your daughter favors Hosea?"

"Yes, she did care for him," the soldier answered; "yes, he was her
heart's desire.  But I compelled her to obey me, and now that she is a
widow, am I to give her to the man whom--the gods alone know with how
much difficulty--I forced her to resign?  When was such an act heard of
in Egypt?"

"Ever since the men and women who dwell by the Nile have submitted, for
the sake of a great cause, to demands opposed to their wishes," replied
the priest.

"Consider all this, and remember that Hosea's ancestress--he boasted of
it in your own presence--was an Egyptian, the daughter of a man of my own
class."

"How many generations have passed to the tomb since?"

"No matter!  It brings us into closer relations with him.  That must
suffice.  Farewell until this evening.  Meanwhile, will you extend your
hospitality to Hosea's nephew and commend him to your fair daughter's
nursing; he seems in sore need of care."




CHAPTER IV.

The house of Hornecht, like nearly every other dwelling in the city, was
the scene of the deepest mourning.  The men had shaved their hair, and
the women had put dust on their foreheads.  The archer's wife had died
long before, but his daughter and her women received him with waving
veils and loud lamentations; for the astrologer, his brother-in-law, had
lost both his first-born son and his grandson, and the plague had
snatched its victims from the homes of many a friend.

But the senseless youth soon demanded all the care the women could
bestow, and after bathing him and binding a healing ointment on the