he had lingered so long and what he intended to confide to her.
While cowering under the sycamore, she had not only struggled and prayed
for composure, but also gazed into her own soul.  She loved Hosea, but
she suspected that he came with proposals similar to those of Uri, and
the wrathful words of hoary Nun rang in her ears more loudly than ever.
The fear that the man she loved was walking in mistaken paths, and the
startling act of Hur had made the towering waves of her passion subside
and her mind, now capable of calmer reflection, desired first of all to
know what had so long detained him whom she had summoned in the name of
her God, and why he came alone, without Ephraim.

The clear sky was full of stars, and these heavenly bodies, which seem to
have been appointed to look down upon the bliss of united human lovers,
now witnessed the anxious questions of a tortured girl and the impatient
answers of a fiery, bitterly disappointed man.

He began with the assurance of his love and that he had come to make her
his wife; but, though she permitted him to hold her hand in his clasp,
she entreated him to cease pleading his suit and first tell her what she
desired to know.

On his way he had received various reports concerning Ephraim through a
brother-in-arms from Tanis, so he could tell her that the lad had been
disobedient and, probably from foolish curiosity, had gone, ill and
wounded, to the city, where he had found shelter and care in the house of
a friend.  But this troubled Miriam, who seemed to regard it as a
reproach to know that the orphaned, inexperienced lad, who had grown up
under her own eyes and whom she herself had sent forth among strangers,
was beneath an Egyptian roof.

But Hosea declared that he would undertake the task of bringing him back
to his people and as, nevertheless she continued to show her anxiety,
asked whether he had forfeited her confidence and love.  Instead of
giving him a consoling answer, she began to put more questions, desiring
to know what had delayed his coming, and so, with a sorely troubled and
wounded heart, he was forced to make his report and, in truth, begin at
the end of his story.

While she listened, leaning against the trunk of the sycamore, he paced
to and fro, urged by longing and impatience, sometimes pausing directly
in front of her.  Naught in this hour seemed to him worthy of being
clothed in words, save the hope and passion which filled his heart.  Had
he been sure that hers was estranged he would have dashed away again,
after having revealed his whole soul to his father, and risked the ride
into unknown regions to seek Moses.  To win Miriam and save himself from
perjury were his only desires, and momentous as had been his experiences
and expectations, during the last few days, he answered her questions
hastily, as if they concerned the most trivial things.

He began his narrative in hurried words, and the more frequently she
interrupted him, the more impatiently he bore it, the deeper grew the
lines in his forehead.

Hosea, accompanied by his attendant, had ridden southward several hours
full of gladsome courage and rich in budding hopes, when just before dusk
he saw a vast multitude moving in advance of him.  At first he supposed
he had encountered the rear-guard of the migrating Hebrews, and had urged
his horse to greater speed.  But, ere he overtook the wayfarers, some
peasants and carters who had abandoned their wains and beasts of burden
rushed past him with loud outcries and shouts of warning which told him
that the people moving in front were lepers.  And the fugitives' warning
had been but too well founded; for the first, who turned with the heart-
rending cry: "Unclean! Unclean!"  bore the signs of those attacked by the
fell disease, and from their distorted faces covered with white dust and
scurf, lustreless eyes, destitute of brows, gazed at him.

Hosea soon recognized individuals, here Egyptian priests with shaven
heads, yonder Hebrew men and women.  With the stern composure of a
soldier, he questioned both and learned that they were marching from the
stone quarries opposite Memphis to their place of isolation on the
eastern shore of the Nile.  Several of the Hebrews among them had heard
from their relatives that their people had left Egypt and gone to seek a
land which the Lord had promised them.  Many had therefore resolved to
put their trust also in the mighty God of their fathers and follow the
wanderers; the Egyptian priests, bound to the Hebrews by the tie of a
common misfortune, had accompanied them, and fixed upon Succoth as the
goal of their journey, knowing that Moses intended to lead his people
there first.  But every one who could have directed them on their way had
fled before them, so they had kept too far northward and wandered near
the fortress of Thabne.  Hosea had met them a mile from this spot and
advised them to turn back, that they might not bring their misfortune
upon their fugitive brethren.

During this conversation, a body of Egyptian soldiers had marched from
the fortress toward the lepers to drive them from the road; but their
commander, who knew Hosea, used no violence, and both men persuaded the
leaders of the lepers to accept the proposal to be guided to the
peninsula of Sinai, where in the midst of the mountains, not far from the
mines, a colony of lepers had settled.  They had agreed to this plan
because Hosea promised them that, if the tribes went eastward, they would
meet them and receive everyone who was healed; but if the Hebrews
remained in Egypt, nevertheless the pure air of the desert would bring
health to many a sufferer, and every one who recovered would be free to
return home.

These negotiations had consumed much time, and the first delay was
followed by many others; for as Hosea had been in such close contact with
the lepers, he was obliged to ride to Thabne, there with the commander of
the garrison, who had stood by his side, to be sprinkled with bird's
blood, put on new garments, and submit to certain ceremonies which he
himself considered necessary and which could be performed only in the
bright sunlight.  His servant had been kept in the fortress because the
kind-hearted man had shaken hands with a relative whom he met among the
hapless wretches.

The cause of the delay had been both sorrowful and repulsive, and not
until after Hosea had left Thabne in the afternoon and proceeded on his
way to Succoth, did hope and joy again revive at the thought of seeing
Miriam once more and bringing to his people a message that promised so
much good.

His heart had never throbbed faster or with more joyous anticipation than
on the nocturnal ride which led him to his father and the woman he loved,
and on reaching his goal, instead of the utmost happiness, he now found
only bitter disappointment.

He had reluctantly described in brief, disconnected sentences his meeting
with the lepers, though he believed he had done his best for the welfare
of these unfortunates.  All of his warrior comrades had uttered a word of
praise; but when he paused she whose approval he valued above aught else,
pointed to a portion of the camp and said sadly:  "They are of our blood,
and our God is theirs.  The lepers in Zoan, Pha-kos and Phibeseth
followed the others at a certain distance, and their tents are pitched
outside the camp.  Those in Succoth--there are not many--will also be
permitted to go forth with us; for when the Lord promised the people the
Land for which they long, He meant lofty and lowly, poor and humble, and
surely also the hapless ones who must now remain in the hands of the foe.
Would you not have done better to separate the Hebrews from the
Egyptians, and guide those of our own blood to us?"

The warrior's manly pride rebelled and his answer sounded grave and
stern: "In war we must resolve to sacrifice hundreds in order to save
thousands.  The shepherds separate the scabby sheep to protect the
flock."

"True," replied Miriam eagerly; "for the shepherd is a feeble man, who
knows no remedy against contagion; but the Lord, who calls all His
people, will suffer no harm to arise from rigid obedience."

"That is a woman's mode of thought," replied Hosea; "but what pity
dictates to her must not weigh too heavily in the balance in the councils
of men.  You willingly obey the voice of the heart, which is most proper,
but you should not forget what befits you and your sex."

A deep flush crimsoned Miriam's cheeks; for she felt the sting contained
in this speech with two-fold pain because it was Hosea who dealt the
thrust.  How many pangs she had been compelled to endure that day on
account of her sex, and now he, too, made her feel that she was not his
peer because she was a woman.  In the presence of the stones Hur had
gathered, and on which her hand now rested, he had appealed to her
verdict, as though she were one of the leaders of the people, and now he
abruptly thrust her, who felt herself inferior to no man in intellect and
talent, back into a woman's narrow sphere.

But he, too, felt his dignity wounded, and her bearing showed him that
this hour would decide whether he or she would have the mastery in their
future union.  He stood proudly before her, his mien stern in its
majesty--never before had he seemed so manly, so worthy of admiration.
Yet the desire to battle for her insulted womanly dignity gained
supremacy over every other feeling, and it was she who at last broke the
brief, painful silence that had followed his last words, and with a
composure won only by the exertion of all her strength of will, she
began:

"We have both forgotten what detains us here so late at night.  You
wished to confide to me what brings you to your people and to hear, not
what Miriam, the weak woman, but the confidante of the Lord decides."

"I hoped also to hear the voice of the maiden on whose love I rely," he
answered gloomily.

"You shall hear it," she replied quickly, taking her hand from the
stones.  "Yet it may be that I cannot agree with the opinion of the man
whose strength and wisdom are so far superior to mine, yet you have just
shown that you cannot tolerate the opposition of a woman, not even mine."

"Miriam," he interrupted reproachfully, but she continued still more
eagerly: "I have felt it, and because it would be the greatest grief of
my life to lose your heart, you must learn to understand me, ere you call
upon me to express my opinion."

"First hear my message."

"No, no!"  she answered quickly.  "The reply would die upon my lips.
Let me first tell you of the woman who has a loving heart, and yet knows
something else that stands higher than love.  Do you smile?  You have a
right to do so, you have so long been a stranger to the secret I mean to
confide.  .  .  ."

"Speak then!"  he interrupted, in a tone which betrayed how difficult it
was for him to control his impatience.

"I thank you," she answered warmly.  Then leaning against the trunk of
the ancient tree, while he sank down on the bench, gazing alternately at
the ground and into her face, she began:

"Childhood already lies behind me, and youth will soon follow.  When I
was a little girl, there was not much to distinguish me from others.  I
played like them and, though my mother had taught me to pray to the God
of our fathers, I was well pleased to listen to the other children's
tales of the goddess Isis.  Nay, I stole into her temple, bought spices,
plundered our little garden for her, anointed her altar, and brought
flowers for offerings.  I was taller and stronger than many of my
companions, and was also the daughter of Amram, so they followed me and
readily did what I suggested.  When I was eight years old, we moved
hither from Zoan.  Ere I again found a girl-playfellow, you came to
Gamaliel, your sister's husband, to be cured of the wound dealt by a
Libyan's lance.  Do you remember that time when you, a youth, made the
little girl a companion?  I brought you what you needed and prattled to
you of the things I knew, but you told me of bloody battles and
victories, of flashing armor, and the steeds and chariots of the warrior,
You showed me the ring your daring had won, and when the wound in your
breast was cured, we roved over the pastures.  Isis, whom you also loved,
had a temple here, and how often I secretly slipped into the forecourt to
pray for you and offer her my holiday-cakes.  I had heard so much from
you of Pharaoh and his splendor, of the Egyptians, and their wisdom,
their art, and luxurious life, that my little heart longed to live among
them in the capital; besides, it had reached my ears that my brother
Moses had received great favors in Pharaoh's palace and risen to
distinction in the priesthood.  I no longer cared for our own people;
they seemed to me inferior to the Egyptians in all respects.

"Then came the parting from you and, as my little heart was devout and
expected all good gifts from the divine power, no matter what name it
bore, I prayed for Pharaoh and his army, in whose ranks you were
fighting.

"My mother sometimes spoke of the God of our fathers as a mighty
protector, to whom the people in former days owed much gratitude, and
told me many beautiful tales of Him; but she herself often offered
sacrifices in the temple of Seth, or carried clover blossoms to the
sacred bull of the sun-god.  She, too, was kindly disposed toward the
Egyptians, among whom her pride and joy, our Moses, had attained such
high honors.

"So in happy intercourse with the others I reached my fifteenth year.
In the evening, when the shepherds returned home, I sat with the young
people around the fire, and was pleased when the sons of the shepherd
princes preferred me to my companions and sought my love; but I refused
them all, even the Egyptian captain who commanded the garrison of the
storehouse; for I remembered you, the companion of my youth.  My best
possession would not have seemed too dear a price to pay for some magic
spell that would have brought you to us when, at the festal games, I
danced and sang to the tambourine while the loudest shouts of applause
greeted me.  Whenever many were listening I thought of you--then I poured
forth like the lark the feelings that filled my heart, then my song was
inspired by you and not by the fame of the Most High, to whom it was
consecrated."

Here passion, with renewed power, seized the man, to whom the woman he
loved was confessing so many blissful memories.  Suddenly starting up, he
extended his arms toward her; but she sternly repulsed him, that she
might control the yearning which threatened to overpower her also.

Yet her deep voice had gained a new, strange tone as, at first rapidly
and softly, then in louder and firmer accents, she continued:

"So I attained my eighteenth year and was no longer satisfied to dwell in
Succoth.  An indescribable longing, and not for you only, had taken
possession of my soul.  What had formerly afforded me pleasure now seemed
shallow, and the monotony of life here in the remote frontier city amid
shepherds and flocks, appeared dull and pitiful.

"Eleasar, Aaron's son, had taught me to read and brought me books, full
of tales which could never have happened, yet which stirred the heart.
Many also contained hymns and fervent songs such as one lover sings to
another.  These made a deep impression on my soul and, whenever I was
alone in the evening, or at noon-day when the shepherds and flocks were
far away in the fields, I repeated these songs or composed new ones, most
of which were hymns in praise of the deity.  Sometimes they extolled Amon
with the ram's head, sometimes cow-headed Isis, and often, too, the great
and omnipotent God who revealed Himself to Abraham, and of whom my mother
spoke more and more frequently as she advanced in years.  To compose such
hymns in quiet hours, wait for visions revealing God's grandeur and
splendor, or beautiful angels and horrible demons, became my favorite
occupation.  The merry child had grown a dreamy maiden, who let household
affairs go as they would.  And there was no one who could have warned me,
for my mother had followed my father to the grave; and I now lived alone
with my old aunt Rachel, unhappy myself, and a source of joy to no one.
Aaron, the oldest of our family, had removed to the dwelling of his
father-in-law Amminadab: the house of Amram, his heritage, had become too
small and plain for him and he left it to me.  My companions avoided me;
for my mirthfulness had departed and I patronized them with wretched
arrogance because I could compose songs and beheld more in my visions
than all the other maidens.

"Nineteen years passed and, on the evening of my birthday, which no one
remembered save Milcah, Eleasar's daughter, the Most High for the first
time sent me a messenger.  He came in the guise of an angel, and bade me
set the house in order; for a guest, the person dearest to me on earth,
was on the way.

"It was early and under this very tree; but I went home and, with old
Rachel's help, set the house in order, and provided food, wine, and all
else we offer to an honored guest.  Noon came, the afternoon passed away,
evening deepened into night, and morning returned, yet I still waited for
the guest.  But when the sum of that day was nearing the western horizon,
the dogs began to bark loudly, and when I went to the door a powerful
man, with tangled grey hair and beard, clad in the tattered white robes
of a priest, hurried toward me.  The dogs shrank back whining; but I
recognized my brother.

"Our meeting after so long a separation at first brought me more fear
than pleasure; for Moses was flying from the officers of the law because
he had slain the overseer.  You know the story.

"Wrath still glowed in his flashing eyes.  He seemed to me like the god
Seth in his fury, and each one of his slow words was graven upon my soul
as by a hammer and chisel.  Thrice seven days and nights he remained
under my roof, and as I was alone with him and deaf Rachel, and he was
compelled to remain concealed, no one came between us, and he taught me
to know Him who is the God of our fathers.

"Trembling and despairing, I listened to his powerful words, which
seemed to fall like rocks upon my breast, when he admonished me of God's
requirements, or described the grandeur and wrath of Him whom no mind can
comprehend, and no name can describe.  Ah, when he spoke of Him and of
the Egyptian gods, it seemed as if the God of my people stood before me
like a giant, whose head touched the sky, and the other gods were
creeping in the dust at his feet like whining curs.

"He taught me also that we alone were the people whom the Lord had
chosen, we and no other.  Then for the first time I was filled with pride
at being a descendant of Abraham, and every Hebrew seemed a brother,
every daughter of Israel a sister.  Now, too, I perceived how cruelly my
people had been enslaved and tortured.  I had been blind to their
suffering, but Moses opened my eyes and sowed in my heart hate, intense
hate of their oppressors, and from this hate sprang love for the victims.
I vowed to follow my brother and await the summons of my God.  And lo, he
did not tarry and Jehovah's voice spoke to me as with tongues.

"Old Rachel died.  At Moses' bidding I gave up my solitary life and
accepted the invitation of Aaron and Amminadab.

"So I became a guest in their household, yet led a separate life among
them all.  They did not interfere with me, and the sycamore here on their
land became my special property.  Beneath its shadow God commanded me to
summon you and bestow on you the name "Help of Jehovah"--and you,  no
longer Hosea, but Joshua, will obey the mandate of God and His
prophetess."

Here the warrior interrupted the maiden's words, to which he had listened
earnestly, yet with increasing disappointment:

"Ay, I have obeyed you and the Most High.  But what it cost me you
disdain to ask.  Your story has reached the present time, yet you have
made no mention of the days following my mother's death, during which you
were our guest in Tanis.  Have you forgotten what first your eyes and
then your lips confessed?  Have the day of your departure and the evening
on the sea, when you bade me hope for and remember you, quite vanished
from your memory?  Did the hatred Moses implanted in your heart kill love
as well as every other feeling?"

"Love?"  asked  Miriam, raising  her large eyes mournfully to his.
"Oh no.  How could I forget that time, the happiest of my life!  Yet from
the day Moses returned from the wilderness by God's command to release
the people from bondage--three months after my separation from you--I
have taken no note of years and months, days and nights."

"Then you have forgotten those also?"  Hosea asked harshly.

"Not so," Miriam answered, gazing beseechingly into his face.  "The love
that grew up in the child and did not wither in the maiden's heart,
cannot be killed; but whoever consecrates one's life to the Lord....."

Here she suddenly paused, raised her hands and eyes rapturously, as if
borne out of herself, and cried imploringly:  "Thou art near me,
Omnipotent One, and seest my heart!  Thou knowest why Miriam took no note
of days and years, and asked nothing save to be Thy instrument until her
people, who are, also, this man's people, received what Thou didst
promise."

During this appeal, which rose from the inmost depths of the maiden's
heart, the light wind which precedes the coming of dawn had risen, and
the foliage in the thick crown of the sycamore above Miriam's head
rustled; but Hosea fairly devoured with his eyes the tall majestic
figure, half illumined, half veiled by the faint glimmering light.  What
he heard and saw seemed like a miracle.  The lofty future she anticipated
for her people, and which must be realized ere she would permit herself
to yield to the desire of her own heart, he believed that he was hearing
to them as a messenger of the Lord.  As if rapt by the noble enthusiasm
of her soul, he rushed toward her, seized her hand, and cried in glad
emotion: "Then the hour has come which will again permit you to
distinguish months from days and listen to the wishes of your own soul.
For to I, Joshua, no longer Hosea, but Joshua, come as the envoy of the
Lord, and my message promises to the people whom I will learn to love as
you do, new prosperity, and thus fulfils the promise of a new and better
home, bestowed by the Most High."

Miriam's eyes sparkled brightly and, overwhelmed with grateful joy, she
exclaimed:

"Thou hast come to lead us into the land which Jehovah promised to His
people?  Oh Lord, how measureless is thy goodness!  He, he comes as Thy
messenger."

"He comes, he is here!"  Joshua enthusiastically replied, and she did not
resist when he clasped her to his breast and, thrilling with joy, she
returned his kiss.




CHAPTER XVI.

Fear of her own weakness soon made Miriam release herself from her
lover's embrace, but she listened with eager happiness, seeking some new
sign from the Most High in Joshua's brief account of everything he had
felt and experienced since her summons.

He first described the terrible conflict he endured, then how he regained
entire faith and, obedient to the God of his people and his father's
summons, went to the palace expecting imprisonment or death, to obtain
release from his oath.

He told her how graciously the sorrowing royal pair had received him, and
how he had at last taken upon himself the office of urging the leaders of
his nation to guide them into the wilderness for a short time only, and
then take them home to Egypt, where a new and beautiful region on the
western bank of the river should be allotted to them.  There no foreign
overseer should henceforward oppress the workmen, but the affairs of the
Hebrews should be directed by their own elders, and a man chosen by
themselves appointed their head.

Lastly he said that he, Joshua, would be placed in command of the Hebrew
forces and, as regent, mediate and settle disputes between them and the
Egyptians whenever it seemed necessary.

United to her, a happy husband, he would care in the new land for even
the lowliest of his race.  On the ride hither he had felt as men do after
a bloody battle, when the blast of trumpets proclaim victory.  He had
indeed a right to regard himself as the envoy of the Most High.

Here, however, he interrupted himself; for Miriam, who at first had
listened with open ears and sparkling eyes, now showed a more and more
anxious and troubled mien.  When he at last spoke of making the people
happy as her husband, she withdrew her hand, gazed timidly at his manly
features, glowing with joyful excitement, and then as if striving to
maintain her calmness, fixed her eyes upon the ground.

Without suspecting what was passing in her mind, Hosea drew nearer.  He
supposed that her tongue was paralyzed by maidenly shame at the first
token of favor she had bestowed upon a man.  But when at his last words,
designating himself as the true messenger of God, she shook her head
disapprovingly, he burst forth again, almost incapable of self-control in
his sore disappointment:

"So you believe that the Lord has protected me by a miracle from the
wrath of the mightiest sovereign, and permitted me to obtain from his
powerful hand favors for my people, such as the stronger never grant to
the weaker, simply to trifle with the joyous confidence of a man whom he
Himself summoned to serve Him."

Miriam, struggling to force back her tears, answered in a hollow tone:
"The stronger to the weaker!  If that is your opinion, you compel me to
ask, in the words of your own father: 'Who is the more powerful, the Lord
our God or the weakling on the throne, whose first-born son withered like
grass at a sign from the Most High.  Oh, Hosea!  Hosea!'"

"Joshua!"  he interrupted fiercely.  "Do you grudge me even the name your
God bestowed?  I relied upon His help when I entered the palace of the
mighty king.  I sought under God's guidance rescue and salvation for the
people, and I found them.  But you, you .  .  .  ."

"Your father and  Moses, nay, all the believing heads of the tribes,
see no salvation for us among the Egyptians," she answered, panting for
breath.  "What they promise the Hebrews will be their ruin.  The grass
sowed by us withers where their feet touch it!  And you, whose honest
heart they deceive, are the whistler whom the bird-catcher uses to decoy
his feathered victims into the snare.  They put the hammer into your hand
to rivet more firmly than before the chains which, with God's aid, we
have sundered.  Before my mind's eye I perceive .  .  .  ."

"Too much!"  replied the warrior, grinding his teeth with rage.  "Hate
dims your clear intellect.  If the bird-catcher really--what was your
comparison--if the bird-catcher really made me his whistler, deceived
and misled me, he might learn from you, ay, from you!  Encouraged by you,
I relied upon your love and faith.  From you I hoped all things--and
where is this love?  As you spared me nothing that could cause me pain,
I will, pitiless to myself, confess the whole truth to you.  It was not
alone because the God of my fathers called me, but because His summons
reached me through you and my father that I came.  You yearn for a land
in the far uncertain distance, which the Lord has promised you; but I
opened to the people the door of a new and sure home.  Not for their
sakes--what hitherto have they been to me?--but first of all to live
there in happiness with you whom I loved, and my old father.  Yet you,
whose cold heart knows naught of love, with my kiss still on your lips,
disdain what I offer, from hatred of the hand to which I owe it.  Your
life, your conflicts have made you masculine.  What other women would
trample the highest blessings under foot?"

Miriam could bear no more and, sobbing aloud, covered her convulsed face
with her hands.

At the grey light of dawn the sleepers in the camp began to stir, and men
and maid servants came out of the dwellings of Amminadab and Naashon.
All whom the morning had roused were moving toward the wells and watering
places, but she did not see them.

How her heart had expanded and rejoiced when her lover exclaimed that he
had come to lead them to the land which the Lord had promised to his
people.  Gladly had she rested on his breast to enjoy one brief moment of
the greatest bliss; but how quickly had bitter disappointment expelled
joy!  While the morning breeze had stirred the crown of the sycamore and
Joshua had told her what Pharaoh would grant to the Hebrews, the rustling
among the branches had seemed to her like the voice of God's wrath and
she fancied she again heard the angry words of hoary-headed Nun.  The
latter's reproaches had dismayed Uri like the flash of lightning, the
roll of thunder, yet how did Joshua's proposition differ from Uri's?

The people--she had heard it also from the lips of Moses--were lost if,
faithless  to their God, they yielded to the temptations of Pharaoh.
To wed a man who came to destroy all for which she, her brothers, and his
own father lived and labored, was base treachery.  Yet she loved Joshua
and, instead of harshly repulsing him, she would have again nestled ah,
how gladly, to the heart which she knew loved her so ardently.

But the leaves in the top of the tree continued to rustle and it seemed
as if they reminded her of Aaron's warning, so she forced herself to
remain firm.

The whispering above came from God, who had chosen her for His
prophetess, and when Joshua, in passionate excitement, owned that the
longing for her was his principal motive for toiling for the people,
who were as unknown to him as they were dear to her, her heart suddenly
seemed to stop beating and, in her mortal agony, she could not help
sobbing aloud.

Unheeding Joshua, or the stir in the camp, she again flung herself down
with uplifted arms under the sycamore, gazing upward with dilated,
tearful eyes, as if expecting a new revelation.  But the morning breeze
continued to rustle in the summit of the tree, and suddenly everything
seemed as bright as sunshine, not only within but around her, as always
happened when she, the prophetess, was to behold a vision.  And in this
light she saw a figure whose face startled her, not Joshua, but another
to whom her heart did not incline.  Yet there he stood before the eyes of
her soul in all his stately height, surrounded by radiance, and with a
solemn gesture he laid his hand on the stones he had piled up.

With quickened breath, she gazed upward to the face, yet she would gladly
have closed her eyes and lost her hearing, that she might neither see it
nor catch the voices from the tree.  But suddenly the figure vanished,
the voices died away, and she appeared to behold in a bright, fiery glow,
the first man her virgin lips had kissed, as with uplifted sword, leading
the shepherds of her people, he dashed toward an invisible foe.

Swiftly as the going and coming of a flash of lightning, the vision
appeared and vanished, yet ere it had wholly disappeared she knew its
meaning.

The man whom she called "Joshua" and who seemed fitted in every respect
to be the shield and leader of his people, must not be turned aside by
love from the lofty duty to which the Most High had summoned him.  None
of the people must learn the message he brought, lest it should tempt
them to turn aside from the dangerous path they had entered.

Her course was as plain as the vision which had just vanished.  And, as
if the Most High desired to show her that she had rightly understood its
meaning, Hur's voice was heard near the sycamore--ere she had risen to
prepare her lover for the sorrow to which she must condemn herself and
him--commanding the multitude flocking from all directions to prepare for
the departure.

The way to save him from himself lay before her; but Joshua had not yet
ventured to disturb her devotions.

He had been wounded and angered to the inmost depths of his soul by her
denial.  But as he gazed down at her and saw her tall figure shaken by a
sudden chill, and her eyes and hands raised heavenward as though, spell-
bound, he had felt that something grand and sacred dwelt within her
breast which it would be sacrilege to disturb; nay, he had been unable to
resist the feeling that it would be presumptuous to seek to wed a woman
united to the Lord by so close a tie.  It must be bliss indeed to call
this exalted creature his own, yet it would be hard to see her place
another, even though it were the Almighty Himself, so far above her lover
and husband.

Men and cattle had already passed close by the sycamore and just as he
was in the act of calling Miriam and pointing to the approaching throng,
she rose, turned toward him, and forced from her troubled breast the
words:

"I have communed with the Lord, Joshua, and now know His will.  Do you
remember the words by which God called you?"

He bent his head in assent; but she went on:

"Well then, you must also know what the Most High confided to your
father, to Moses, and to me.  He desires to lead us out of the land of
Egypt, to a distant country where neither Pharaoh nor his viceroy shall
rule over us, and He alone shall be our king.  That is His will, and if
He requires you to serve Him, you must follow us and, in case of war,
command the men of our people."

Joshua struck his broad breast, exclaiming in violent agitation: "An oath
binds me to return to Tanis to inform Pharaoh how the leaders of the
people received the message with which I was sent forth.  Though my heart
should break, I cannot perjure myself."

"And mine shall break," gasped Miriam, "ere I will be disloyal to the
Lord our God.  We have both chosen, so let what once united us be
sundered before these stones."

He rushed frantically toward her to seize her hand; but with an imperious
gesture she waved him back, turned away, and went toward the multitude
which, with sheep and cattle, were pressing around the wells.

Old and young respectfully made way for her as, with haughty bearing, she
approached Hur, who was giving orders to the shepherds; but he came
forward to meet her and, after hearing the promise she whispered, he laid
his hand upon her head and said with solemn earnestness:

"Then may the Lord bless our alliance."

Hand in hand with the grey-haired man to whom she had given herself,
Miriam approached Joshua.  Nothing betrayed the deep emotion of her soul,
save the rapid rise and fall of her bosom, for though her cheeks were
pale, her eyes were tearless and her bearing was as erect as ever.

She left to Hur to explain to the lover whom she had forever resigned
what she had granted him, and when Joshua heard it, he started back as
though a gulf yawned at his feet.

His lips were bloodless as he stared at the unequally matched pair.  A
jeering laugh seemed the only fitting answer to such a surprise, but
Miriam's grave face helped him to repress it and conceal the tumult of
his soul by trivial words.

But he felt that he could not long succeed in maintaining a successful
display of indifference, so he took leave of Miriam.  He must greet his
father, he said hastily, and induce him to summon the elders.

Ere he finished several shepherds hurried up, disputing wrathfully and
appealed to Hur to decide what place in the procession belonged to each
tribe.  He followed them, and as soon as Miriam found herself alone with
Joshua, she said softly, yet earnestly, with beseeching eyes:

"A hasty deed was needful to sever the tie that bound us, but a loftier
hope unites us.  As I sacrificed what was dearest to my heart to remain
faithful to my God and people, do you, too, renounce everything to which
your soul clings.  Obey the Most High, who called you Joshua!  This hour
transformed the sweetest joy to bitter grief; may it be the salvation of
our people!  Remain a son of the race which gave you your father and
mother!  Be what the Lord called you to become, a leader of your race!
If you insist on fulfilling your oath to Pharaoh, and tell the elders the
promises with which you came, you will win them over, I know.  Few will
resist you, but of those few the first will surely be your own father.
I can hear him raise his voice loudly and angrily against his own dear
son; but if you close your ears even to his warning, the people will
follow your summons instead of God's, and you will rule the Hebrews as a
mighty man.  But when the time comes that the Egyptian casts his promises
to the winds, when you see your people in still worse bondage than before
and behold them turn from the God of their fathers to again worship
animal-headed idols, your father's curse will overtake you, the wrath of
the Most High will strike the blinded man, and despair will be the lot of
him who led to ruin the weak masses for whose shield the Most High chose
him.  So I, a feeble woman, yet the servant of the Most High and the
maiden who was dearer to you than life, cry in tones of warning: Fear
your father's curse and the punishment of the Lord!  Beware of tempting
the people."

Here she was interrupted by a female slave, who summoned her to her
house--and she added in low, hurried accents: "Only this one thing more.
If you do not desire to be weaker than the woman whose opposition roused
your wrath, sacrifice your own wishes for the welfare of yonder
thousands, who are of the same blood!  With your hand on these stones you
must swear .  .  .  ."

But here her voice failed.  Her hands groped vainly for some support, and
with a loud cry she sank on her knees beside Hur's token.

Joshua's strong arms saved her from falling prostrate, and several women
who hurried up at his shout soon recalled the fainting maiden to life.

Her eyes wandered restlessly from one to another, and not until her
glance rested on Joshua's anxious face did she become conscious where
she was and what she had done.  Then she hurriedly drank the water a
shepherd's wife handed to her, wiped the tears from her eyes, sighed
painfully, and with a faint smile whispered to Joshua: "I am but a weak
woman after all."

Then she walked toward the house, but after the first few steps turned,
beckoned to the warrior, and said softly:

"You see how they are forming into ranks.  They will soon begin to move.
Is your resolution still unshaken?  There is still time to call the
elders."

He shook his head, and as he met her tearful, grateful glance, answered
gently:

"I shall remember these stones and this hour, wife of Hur.  Greet my
father for me and tell him that I love him.  Repeat to him also the
name by which his son, according to the command of the Most High, will
henceforth be called, that its promise of Jehovah's aid may give him
confidence when he hears whither I am going to keep the oath I have