were still a foolish child?"
"He who has guided me until now will show me the right way."

"Well then," replied Hur, "put your trust in Him, and if the man of your
choice is worthy of you, and becomes your lord, my soul will rejoice
without envy when the Most High blesses your union.  But if God wills
otherwise, and you need a strong arm for your support, I am here.  The
tent and the heart of Hur will ever be open to you."

With these words he turned away; but Miriam gazed thoughtfully after him
as long as the old chief's stately figure was visible.

At last, still pondering, she moved toward her host's house, but at the
road leading to Tanis, she paused and gazed northward.  The dust had
subsided, and she could see a long distance, but the one person whom it
was to lead back to her and to his people did not appear.  Sighing sadly,
she moved onward with drooping head, and started violently when her
brother Moses' deep voice called to her from the old sycamore.




CHAPTER XIII.

Aaron and Eleasar, with fiery eloquence, had reminded the murmuring,
disheartened people of the power and promises of their God.  Whoever had
stretched his limbs undisturbed to comfortable rest, whoever had been
strengthened by food and drink regained the confidence that had been
lost.  The liberated bondmen were told of the hard labor and dishonoring
blows which they had escaped and admonished that they must recognize as
God's dispensation, among other things, that Pharaoh had not pursued
them; but the rich booty still found in the plundered storehouse had no
small share in the revival of their drooping courage, and the bondmen and
lepers--for many of the latter had accompanied them and rested outside
the camp--in short, all for whose support Pharaoh had provided, saw
themselves safe for a long time from care and privation.  Yet there was
no lack of malcontents, and here and there, though no one knew who
instigated the question, loud discussion arose whether it would not be
more advisable to return to Pharaoh and rely on his favor.  Whoever
raised it, did the work secretly, and was often compelled to submit to
sharp, threatening retorts.

Miriam had talked with her brothers and shared the heavy anxieties that
oppressed them.  Why had the desert wind so speedily destroyed the
courage of the people during their brief pilgrimage?  How impatient, how
weak in faith, how rebellious they had showed themselves at the first
obstacle they had encountered, how uncontrollable they had been in
following their fierce impulses.  When summoned to prayer just before
sunrise during their journey, some had turned toward the day-star rising
in the east, others had taken out a small idol they had brought with
them, and others still had uplifted their eyes to the Nile acacia, which
in some provinces of Egypt was regarded as a sacred tree.  What did they
know of the God who had commanded them to cast so much behind them and
take upon themselves such heavy burdens?  Even now many were despairing,
though they had confronted no serious dangers; for Moses had intended to
lead the Hebrews in Succoth over the road to Philistia direct to the
Promised Land in Palestine, but the conduct of the people forced him to
resign this plan and form another.

To reach the great highway connecting Asia and Africa it was necessary to
cross the isthmus, which rather divided than united the two continents;
for it was most thoroughly guarded from intruders and, partly by natural,
partly by artificial obstacles, barred the path of every fugitive; a
series of deep lakes rolled their waves upon its soil, and where these
did not stay the march of the travelers strong fortifications, garrisoned
by trained Egyptian troops, rose before them.

This chain of forts was called Chetam--or in the Hebrew tongue--Etham,
and wayfarers leaving Succoth would reach the nearest and strongest of
these forts in a few hours.

When the tribes, full of enthusiasm for their God, and ready for the most
arduous enterprises, shook off their chains and, exulting in their new
liberty, rushed forward to the Promised Land Moses, and with him the
majority of the elders, had believed that, like a mountain torrent,
bursting dams and sluices, they would destroy and overthrow everything
that ventured to oppose their progress.  With these enthusiastic masses,
to whom bold advance would secure the highest good, and timid hesitation
could bring nothing save death and ruin, they had expected to rush over
the Etham line as if it were a pile of faggots.  But now since a short
chain of difficulties and suffering had stifled the fire of their souls,
now that wherever the eye turned, there were two calm and five
dissatisfied or anxious individuals to one upheld by joyous anticipation,
to storm the Etham line would have cost rivers of blood and moreover
jeopardized all that had been already gained.

The overpowering of the little garrison in the storehouse of Pithom had
occurred under specially favorable circumstances, which could hardly be
expected to happen again, so the original plan must be changed, and an
attempt made to take a circuit around the fortifications.  Instead of
moving toward the northeast, the tribes must turn southward.

But, ere carrying this plan into execution, Moses, accompanied by a few
trusty men, desired to examine the new route and ascertain whether it
would be passable for the great wandering people.

These matters were discussed under the great sycamore in front of
Amminadab's house, and Miriam was present, a mute witness.

Women,--even those like herself,--were forced to keep silence when men
were holding counsel; yet it was hard for her to remain speechless when
it was decided to abstain from attacking the forts, even should the
trained warrior, Hosea, whom God Himself had chosen to be his sword,
return to his people.

"What avails the best leader, if there is no army to obey him?"  Naashon,
Amminadab's son, had exclaimed, and the others shared his opinion.

When the council finally broke up, Moses took leave of his sister with
fraternal affection.  She knew that he was in the act of plunging into
fresh dangers and--in the modest manner in which she was always wont to
accost the brother who so far surpassed all others in every gift of mind
and body,--expressed her anxiety.  He looked into her eyes with friendly
reproach and raised his right hand toward heaven; but she understood his
meaning, and kissing his hand with grateful warmth, replied:

"You stand under the protection of the Most High, and I fear no longer."

Pressing his lips upon her brow, he bade her give him a tablet, wrote a
few words on it, flung it into the hollow trunk of the sycamore, and said:

"For Hosea, no, for Joshua, the son of Nun, if he comes while I am
absent.  The Lord has great deeds for him to accomplish, when he learns
to expect loftier things from the Most High than from the mighty ones of
earth."

With these words he left her; but Aaron who, as the oldest, was the head
of her tribe, lingered and told her that a man of worth sought her hand.
Miriam, with blanching face, replied:

"I know it......"

He looked at her in surprise and with earnest monition, added:

"As you choose; yet it will be wise to consider this.  Your heart belongs
to your God and to your people, and the man whom you wed must be ready,
like yourself, to serve both; for two must be one in marriage, and if the
highest aim of one is not also that of the other, they will remain two
till the end.  The voice of the senses, which drew them together, will
soon be mute and nothing will be left to them save discord."

Having said this, he went away, and she, too, was preparing to leave the
others; for on the eve of departure she might be needed in the house
whose hospitality she enjoyed.  But a new incident detained her, as
though bound with fetters, under the sycamore.

What cared she for the packing of perishable wares and providing for
bodily needs, when affairs which occupied her whole soul were under
discussion!  Elisheba, Naashon's wife, any housekeeper and faithful slave
could attend to the former wants.  Higher things were to be determined
here--the weal  or woe of her people.

Several men of distinction in the tribes had joined the elders under the
sycamore; but Hur had already departed with Moses.

Uri, the son of the former, now appeared beneath the ancient tree.  The
worker in metals, who had just come from Egypt, had talked in Memphis
with persons who were near to the king and learned that Pharaoh was ready
to remove great burdens from the Hebrews and grant them new favors, if
Moses would render the God whom he served propitious to him and induce
the people to return after they had offered sacrifices in the wilderness.
Therefore it would be advisable to send envoys to Tanis and enter into
negotiations with the Sublime Porte.

These proposals, which Uri had not yet ventured to moot to his father,
he, with good intentions, brought before the assembled elders; he hoped
that their acceptance might spare the people great suffering.  But
scarcely had he concluded his clear and convincing speech, when old Nun,
Hosea's father, who had with difficulty held his feelings in check, broke
in.

The old man's face, usually so cheerful, glowed with wrath, and its fiery
hue formed a strange contrast to the thick white locks which framed it.
A few hours before he had heard Moses repel similar propositions with
harsh decision and crushing reasons; now he had heard them again brought.
forward and noted many a gesture of assent among the listeners, and saw
the whole great enterprise imperilled, the enterprise for whose success
he had himself risked and sacrificed more than any other man.

This was too much for the active old man who, with flashing eyes and hand
upraised in menace, burst forth "What do you mean?  Are we to pick up the
ends of the rope the Lord our God has severed?  Do you counsel us to
fasten it anew, with a looser knot, which will hold as long as the whim
of a vacillating weakling who has broken his promises to us and to Moses
a score of times?  Do you wish to lead us back to the cage whence the
Almighty released us by a miracle?  Are we to treat the Lord our God like
a bad debtor and prefer the spurious gold ring we are offered to the
royal treasures He promises?  Oh, messenger from the Egyptians--
I would .  .  .  ."

Here the hot-blooded grey-beard raised his clenched fist in menace but,
ere he had uttered the threat that hovered on his lips, he let his arm
fall; for Gabriel, the oldest member of the tribe of Zebulun, shouted:

"Remember your own son, who is to-day among the foes of his people."

The words struck home; yet they only dimmed the fiery old man's glad
self-reliance a moment and, amid the voices uttering disapproval of the
malicious Gabriel and the few who upheld the Zebulunite, he cried:

"And because I am perhaps in danger of losing, not only the ten thousand
acres of land I flung behind me, but a noble son, it is my right to speak
here."

His broad chest heaved with his labored breathing and his eyes, shadowed
by thick white brows, rested with a milder expression on the son of Hur,
whose face had paled at his vehement words, as he continued:

"Uri is a good and dutiful son to his father and has also been obliged to
make great sacrifices in leaving the place where his work was so much
praised and his own house in Memphis.  The blessing of the Most High will
not fail him.  But for the very reason that he has hitherto obeyed the
command, he must not now seek to destroy what we have commenced under the
guidance of the Most High.  To you, Gabriel, I answer that my son
probably will not tarry among our foes, but obedient to my summons,
will join us, like Uri, the first-born of Hur.  What still detains him is
doubtless some important matter of which Hosea will have as little cause
to be ashamed as I, his father.  I know and trust him, and whoever
expects aught else will sooner or later, by my son's course of action,
be proved a liar."

Here he paused to push his white hair back from his burning brow and,
as no one contradicted him, he turned to the worker in metals, and added
with cordial friendliness:

"What angered me, Uri, was certainly not your purpose.  That is a good
one; but you have measured the greatness and majesty of the God of our
fathers by the standard of the false gods of the Egyptians, who die and
rise again and, as Aaron has just said, represent only minor attributes
of Him who is in all and transcends everything.  To serve God, until
Moses taught me a better counsel, I deemed meant to sacrifice an ox, a
lamb, or a goose upon the altar like the Egyptians; but your eyes, as
befell me through Moses, will not be opened to Him who rules the world
and has made us His people, until, like me, you, and all of us, and
probably my son also, shall each have kindled in his own breast the
sacrificial fire which never goes out and consumes everything that does
not relate to Him in love and loyalty, faith and reverence.  Through
Moses, His servant, God has promised us the greatest blessings--
deliverance from bondage, the privilege of ruling on our own land as free
men in a beautiful country, our own possession and the heritage of our
children.  We are going forth to receive His gift, and whoever seeks to
stop us on our way, whoever urges us to turn and creep back into the net
whose brazen meshes we have burst, advises his people to run once more
like sheep into the fire from which they have escaped.  I am not angry
with you; your face shows that you perceive how foolishly you have erred;
but all ye who are here must know that I heard only a few hours ago from
Moses' own lips these words: 'Whoever counsels return and the making of
covenants with the Egyptians, I will denounce as a scorner of Jehovah our
God, and the destroyer and worst foe of his people!'"

Uri went to the old man, gave him his hand, and deeply convinced of the
justice of his reproaches, exclaimed:  "No treaty, no covenant with the
Egyptians!  I am grateful to you, Nun, for opening my eyes.  To me, also,
the hour will doubtless come in which you, or some one who stands nearer
to Him than I, will teach me to know your God, who is also mine."

As he ceased speaking, he went away with Nun, who put his arm around his
shoulders; but Miriam had listened breathlessly to Uri's last words, and
as he expressed a desire to know the God of his people, her eyes had
sparkled with the light of enthusiasm.  She felt that her soul was filled
with the greatness of the Most High and that she had the gift of speech
to make another familiar with the knowledge she herself possessed.  But
this time also custom required her to keep silence.  Her heart ached, and
as she again moved among the multitude and convinced herself that Hosea
had not yet come, she went home, as twilight was beginning to gather, and
joined the others on the roof.

No one there appeared to have missed her, not even poor melancholy
Milcah, and she felt unutterably lonely in this house.

If Hosea would only come, if she might have a strong breast on which to
lean, if this sense of being a stranger in her own home, this useless
life beneath the roof she was obliged to call hers, though she never felt
thoroughly at home under it, would but cease.  Moses and Aaron, too, had
gone away, taking Hur's grandson with them; but no one had deemed her,
who lived and breathed solely for her people and their welfare, worthy
to learn whither their journey led or what was its purpose.

Why had the God to whom she devoted her whole life and being made her a
woman, yet given her the mind and soul of a man?

She waited, as if to test whether any of the circle of kindly-natured
people to which she belonged really loved her, for some one of the elders
or the children to accost her; but Eleasar's little ones were pressing
around their grandparents, and she had never understood how to make
herself agreeable to children.  Elisheba was directing the slaves who
were putting the finishing touches to the packing; Milcah sat with her
cat in her lap, gazing into vacancy.  No one heeded or spoke to her.

Bitter pain overpowered Miriam, and after she had shared the evening meal
with the others, and forced herself not to disturb by her own sorrowful
mood, the joyous excitement of the children, who looked forward to the
pilgrimage as a great pleasure, she longed to go out of doors.

Closely veiled, she passed alone through the camp and what she beheld
there was certainly ill-suited to dispel the mood that oppressed her.
There was plenty of noise, and though sometimes devout hymns, full of joy
and hope, echoed on the air, she heard far more frequently savage
quarrelling and rebellious words.  When her ear caught threats or
reproaches levelled against her noble brother, she quickened her pace,
but she could not escape her anxiety concerning what would happen at the
departure after sunrise on the morrow, should the malcontents obtain
supremacy.

She knew that the people would be forced to press forward; but her dread
of Pharaoh's military power had never permitted her to be at peace--to
her it was as it were embodied in Hosea's heroic figure.  If the Lord
Himself did not fight in the ranks of the wretched bondmen and shepherds
who were quarrelling and disputing around her, how were they to withstand
the well-trained and equipped hosts of the Egyptians, with their horses
and chariots?

She had heard that guards had been posted in all parts of the camp, with
orders to sound the horn or strike the cymbal at the approach of the foe,
until the men had flocked to the spot whence the warning first echoed.

She had long listened for such an alarm, yet how much more intently for
the hoof-beats of a single steed, the firm step and deep voice of the
warrior for whom she yearned.  On his account she constantly returned to
the northern part of the camp which adjoined the road coming from Tanis
and where now, at Moses' bidding, the tents of most of the men capable of
bearing arms were pitched.  Here she had hoped to find true confidence;
but as she listened to the talk of the armed soldiers who surrounded the
camp-fires in dense circles, she heard that Uri's proposal had reached
them also.  Most of them were husbands and fathers, had left behind a
house, a bit of land, a business, or an office, and though many spoke of
the command of the Most High and the beautiful new home God had promised,
not a few were disposed to return.  How gladly she would have gone among
these blinded mortals and exhorted them to obey with fresh faith and
confidence the command of the Lord and of her brother.  But here, too,
she was forced to keep silence.  She was permitted to listen only, and
she was most strongly attracted to the very places where she might expect
to hear rebellious words and proposals.

There was a mysterious charm in this cruel excitement and she felt as if
she were deprived of something desirable when many a fire was
extinguished, the soldiers went to sleep, and conversation ceased.

She now turned for the last time toward the road leading from Tanis; but
nothing was stirring there save the sentries pacing to and fro.

She had not yet doubted Hosea's coming; for the summons she had sent to
him in the name of the Lord had undoubtedly reached him; but now that the
stars showed her it was past midnight, the thought came vividly before
her mind of the many years he had spent among the Egyptians, and that he
might perhaps deem it unworthy of a man to obey the call of a woman,
even if she uplifted her voice in the name of the Most High.  She had
experienced humiliations enough that day, why should not this be decreed
also?




CHAPTER XIV

Deeply disturbed and tortured by such thoughts, Miriam walked toward
Amminadab's house to seek repose; but just as she was in the act of
crossing the threshold, she paused and again listened for sounds coming
from the north.

Hosea must arrive from that direction.

But she heard nothing save the footsteps of a sentinel and the voice of
Hur, who was patrolling the camp with a body of armed men.

He, too, had been unable to stay in the house.

The night was mild and starry, the time seemed just suited for dreams
under the sycamore.  Her bench beneath the venerable tree was empty, and
with drooping head she approached the beloved resting-place, which she
must leave forever on the morrow.

But ere she had reached the spot so close at hand, she paused with her
figure drawn up to its full height and her hand pressed upon her
throbbing bosom.  This time she was not mistaken, the beat of hoofs
echoed on the air, and it came from the north.

Were Pharaoh's chariots approaching to attack the camp?  Should she shout
to wake the warriors?  Or could it be he whom she so longingly expected?
Yes, yes, yes!  It was the tramp of a single steed, and must be a new
arrival; for there were loud voices in the tents, the dogs barked, and
shouts, questions, and answers came nearer and nearer with the rider.

It was Hosea, she felt sure.  His riding alone through the night,
released from the bonds that united him to Pharaoh and his comrades in
arms, was a sign of his obedience!  Love had steeled his will and
quickened the pace of his steed, and the gratitude of answering
affection, the reward she could bestow, should be withheld no longer.
In her arms he should blissfully perceive that he had resigned great
possessions to obtain something still fairer and sweeter!  She felt as
though the darkness around had suddenly brightened into broad day, as her
ear told her that the approaching horseman was riding straight toward the
house of her host Amminadab.  She now knew that he was obeying her
summons, that he had come to find her.  Hosea was seeking her ere he went
to his own father, who had found shelter in the big empty house of his
grandson, Ephraim.

He would gladly have dashed toward her at the swiftest pace of his steed,
but it would not do to ride rapidly through the camp.  Ah, how long the
time seemed ere she at last saw the horseman, ere he swung himself to the
ground, and his companion flung the reins of the horse to a man who
followed him.

It was he, it was Hosea!

But his companion--she had recognized him distinctly and shrank a little
--his companion was Hur, the man who a few hours before had sought her
for his wife.

There stood her two suitors side by side in the starlight, illumined by
the glare of the pitch torches blazing beside the carts and household
utensils which had been packed for the morrow's journey.

The tall figure of the elder Hebrew towered over the sinewy form of the
warrior, and the shepherd prince bore himself no whit less erect than the
Egyptian hero.  Both voices sounded earnest and manly, yet her lover's
seemed to Miriam stronger and deeper.  They had now advanced so near that
she could understand their conversation.

Hur was telling the newcomer that Moses had gone on a reconnoitring
expedition, and Hosea was expressing his regret, because he had important
matters to discuss with him.

Then he must set out with the tribes the next morning, Hur replied, for
Moses intended to join them on the way.

Then he pointed to Amminadab's house, from which no ray of light gleamed
through the darkness, and asked Hosea to spend the remainder of the night
beneath his roof, as he probably would not wish yo disturb his aged
father at so late an hour.

Miriam saw her friend hesitate and gaze intently up to the women's
apartments and the roof of her host's house.  Knowing what he sought, she
could no longer resist the impulse of her heart, but stepped forth from
the shadow of the sycamore and gave Hosea a cordial and tender welcome.

He, too, disdained to conceal the joy of his heart, and Hur stood beside
the reunited lovers, as they clasped each other's hands, and exchanged
greetings, at first mutely, then with warm words.

"I knew you would come!"  cried the maiden, and Hosea answered with
joyful emotion.

"You might easily suppose so, oh Prophetess; for your own voice was among
those that summoned me here."

Then in a calmer tone, he added: "I hoped to find your brother also; I am
the bearer of a message of grave import to him, to us, and to the people.
I see that you, too, are ready to depart and should grieve to behold the
comfort of your aged hosts destroyed by hasty acts that may yet be
needless."

"What do you mean?"  asked Hur, advancing a step nearer to the other.
"I mean," replied Hosea, "that if Moses persists in leading the tribes
eastward, much blood will flow uselessly to-morrow; for I learned at
Tanis that the garrison of Etham has been ordered to let no man pass,
still less the countless throng, whose magnitude surprised me as I rode
through the camp.  I know Apu, who commands the fortifications and the
legions whom he leads.  There would be a terrible, fruitless massacre of
our half-armed, untrained people, there would be--in short, I have urgent
business to discuss with Moses, urgent and immediate, to avert the
heaviest misfortune ere it is too late."

"What you fear has not escaped our notice," replied Hur, "and it is in
order to guard against this peril that Moses has set forth on a dangerous
quest."

"Whither?"  asked Hosea.

"That is the secret of the leaders of the tribes."

"Of which my father is one."

"Certainly; and I have already offered to take you to him.  If he assumes
the responsibility of informing you ..."

"Should he deem it a breach of duty, he will keep silence.  Who is to
command the wandering hosts tomorrow?"

"I."

"You?"  asked Hosea in astonishment, and Hur answered calmly:

"You marvel at the audacity of the shepherd who ventures to lead an army;
but the Lord of all armies, to whom we trust our cause, is our leader; I
rely solely on His guidance."

"And so do I," replied Hosea.  "No one save the God through whom Miriam
summoned me to this spot, entrusted me--of that I am confident--with the
important message which brings me here.  I must find Moses ere it is too
late."

"You have already heard that he will be beyond the reach of any one,
myself included, until to-morrow, perhaps the day after.  Will you speak
to Aaron?"

"Is he in the camp?"

"No; but we expect his return before the departure of the people, that is
in a few hours."

"Has he the power to decide important matters in Moses' absence?"

"No, he merely announces to the people in eloquent language what his
illustrious brother commands."

The warrior bent his eyes with a disappointed expression on the ground,
and after a brief pause for reflection eagerly added, fixing his gaze on
Miriam:

"It is Moses to whom the Lord our God announces his will; but to you, his
august maiden sister, the Most High also reveals himself, to you .  .  ."

"Oh, Hosea!"  interrupted the prophetess, extending her hands toward him
with a gesture of mingled entreaty and warning; but the chief, instead of
heeding her monition, went on:

"The Lord our God hath commanded you to summon me, His servant, back to
the people; He hath commanded you to give me the name for which I am to
exchange the one my father and mother bestowed upon me, and which I have
borne in honor for thirty years.  Obedient to your summons, I have cast
aside all that could make me great among men; but on my way through
Egypt,--bearing in my heart the image of my God and of you,--braving
death, the message I now have to deliver was entrusted to me, and I
believe that it came from the Most High Himself.  It is my duty to convey
it to the leaders of the people; but as I am unable to find Moses, I can
confide it to no better one than you who, though only a woman, stand,--
next to your brother--nearest to the Most High, so I implore you to
listen to me.  The tidings I bring are not yet ripe for the ears of a
third person."

Hur drew his figure to a still greater height and, interrupting Hosea,
asked Miriam whether she desired to hear the son of Nun without
witnesses; she answered with a quiet "yes."

Then Hur turned haughtily and coldly to the warrior:

"I think that Miriam knows the Lord's will, as well as her brother's, and
is aware of what beseems the women of Israel.  If I am not mistaken, it
was under this tree that your own father, the worthy Nun, gave to my son
Uri the sole answer which Moses must also make to every bearer of a
message akin to yours."

"Do you know it?"  asked Hosea in a tone of curt reproof.

"No," replied the other, "but I suspect its purport, and look here."

While speaking he stooped with youthful agility and, raising two large
stones with his powerful arms, propped them against each other, rolled
several smaller ones to their sides, and then, with panting breath,
exclaimed:

"Let this heap be a witness between me and thee, like the stones named
Mizpah which Jacob and Laban erected.  And as the latter called upon the
Lord to watch between him and the other, so do I likewise.  I point to
this heap that you may remember it, when we are parted one from the
other.  I lay my hand upon these stones and bear witness that I, Hur, son
of Caleb and Ephrath, put my trust in no other than the Lord, the God of
our fathers, and am ready to obey His command, which calls us forth from
the kingdom of Pharaoh into a land which He promised to us.  But of thee,
Hosea, son of Nun, I ask and the Lord our God hears thee: Dost thou, too,
expect no other help save from the God of Abraham, who has made thy race
His chosen people?  And wilt thou also testify whether thou wilt ever
regard the Egyptians who oppressed us, and from whose bondage the Lord
our God delivered us, as the mortal foes of thy God and of thy race?"

The warrior's bearded features quivered, and he longed to overthrow the
heap and answer the troublesome questioner with wrathful words, but
Miriam had laid her hand on the top of the pile of stones, and clasping
his right hand, exclaimed:

"He is questioning you in the presence of our God and Lord, who is your
witness."

Hosea succeeded in controlling his wrath, and pressing the maiden's hand
more closely, he answered earnestly:

"He questions, but I may not answer; 'yea' or 'nay' will be of little
service here; but I, too, call God to witness, and before this heap you,
Miriam, but you alone, shall hear what I propose and for what purpose I
have come.  Look, Hur!  Like you I lay my hand upon this heap and bear
witness that I, Hosea, son of Nun, put my sole trust in the Lord and God
of our fathers.  He stands as a witness between me and thee, and shall
decide whether my way is His, or that of an erring mortal.  I will obey
His will, which He has made known to Moses and to this noble maiden.
This I swear by an oath whose witness is the Lord our God."

Hur had listened intently and, impressed by the earnestness of the words,
now exclaimed:

"The Lord our God has heard your vow and against your oath I, in the
presence of this heap, take another: If the hour comes when, mindful of
this heap of stones, you give the testimony you have refused me, there
shall henceforward be no ill-will between us, and if it is in accordance
with the will of the Most High, I will cheerfully resign to you the
office of commander, which you, trained in many wars, would be better
suited to fill than I, who hitherto have ruled only my flocks and
shepherds.  But you, Miriam, I charge to remember that this heap of
stones will also be a witness of the colloquy you are to hold with this
man in the presence of God.  I remind you of the reproving words you
heard beneath this tree from the lips of his father, and call God to
witness that I would have darkened the life of my son Uri, who is the joy
of my heart, with a father's curse if he had gone among the people to
induce them to favor the message he brought; for it would have turned
those of little faith from their God.  Remember this, maiden, and let me
say again:

"If you seek me you will find me, and the door I opened will remain open
to you, whatever may happen!"

With these words Hur turned his back upon Miriam and the warrior.

Neither knew what had befallen them, but he who during the long ride
beset by many a peril had yearned with ardent anticipations for the hour
which was to once more unite him to the object of his love, gazed on the
ground full of bewilderment and profound anxiety, while Miriam who, at
his approach, had been ready to bestow upon him the highest, sweetest
gifts with which a loving woman rewards fidelity and love, had sunk to
the earth before the ominous pile of stones close beside the tree and
pressed her forehead against its gnarled, hollow trunk.




ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

Brief "eternity" of national covenants
Choose between too great or too small a recompense
Regard the utterances and mandates of age as wisdom
There is no 'never,' no surely
Voice of the senses, which drew them together, will soon be mute






JOSHUA

By Georg Ebers

Volume 3.



CHAPTER XV.

For a long time nothing was heard beneath the sycamore save Miriam's low
moans and the impatient footsteps of the warrior who, while struggling
for composure, did not venture to disturb her.

He could not yet understand what had suddenly towered like a mountain
between him and the object of his love.

He had learned from Hur's words that his father and Moses rejected all
mediation, yet the promises he was bearing to the people seemed to him a
merciful gift from the Most High.  None of his race yet knew it and, if
Moses was the man whom he believed him to be, the Lord must open his eyes
and show him that he had chosen him, Hosea, to lead the people through
his mediation to a fairer future; nor did he doubt that He could easily
win his father over to his side.  He would even have declared a second
time, with the firmest faith, that it was the Most High who had pointed
out his path, and after reflecting upon all this he approached Miriam,
who had at last risen, with fresh confidence.  His loving heart prompted
him to clasp her in his arms, but she thrust him back and her voice,
usually so pure and clear, sounded harsh and muffled as she asked why