IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT.3) 1.0 I.I i ^ IS "^0 111!!^ 1.8 125 1.4 1.6 -< 6" ► V] <^ /] /.< r r 7^ Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80 (716) 872-450? CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/ICIVIH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibliographiques The Institute has attempted to obtain the best original copy available for filming. Features of this copy which may be bibliographically unique, which may alter any of the images in the reproduction, or which may significantly change the usual method of filming, are checked below. L'institut a microfilm^ le meilleur exemplaire qu'il lui a 6t6 possible de se procurer. Les details de cet exemplaire qui sont peut-dtre uniques du point de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une modification ijans la m6thode normale de filmage sont indiqu6s ci-de3sous. □ □ □ □ □ D D Coloured covers/ Couverture de couleur Covers damaged/ Couverture endommagee Covers restored and/or laminated/ Couverture restaurde et/ou pelliculde Cover title missing/ Le titre de couverture manque Coloured maps/ Cartes gdographiques en couleur Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/ Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire) Coloured plates and/or illustrations/ Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur Bound with other material/ Relie avec d'autres documents Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion along interior margin/ La reliure serree peut causer de I'ombre ou de la distortion le long de la marge intdrieure Blank leaves added during restoration may appear within the text. Whenever possible, these have been omitted from filming/ II se peut que certaines pages blanches ajout^es lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans le texte, mais, lorsque ccia 6tait possiblo, ces pages n'ont pas 6t6 film^es. D D D n D D D D Coloured pages/ Pages de couleur Pages damaged/ Pages endommag^es Pages restored and/or laminated/ Pages restaur6es et/ou pellicul^es Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/ Pages d6color6es, tachet^es ou picuees Pages detached/ Pages d^tachees Showthrough/ Transparence Quality of print varies/ Qualite inegale de I'impression Includes supplementary mi .jrial/ Comprend du materiel supplementaire Only edition available/ Seule Edition disponible Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata slips, tissues, etc., have been refilmed to ensure the best possible image/ Les pages totalement ou partiellement obscurcies par un feuillet d'errata, une pelure, etc., ont 6t6 filmdes d nouveau de facon S obtenir la meilleure image possible. D Additional comments:/ Commentaires suppl^mentaires: This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/ Ce document est fiim6 au taux de reduction indiqu6 ci-dessous. 10X 14X 18X 22X 26X 30X / 12X 16X 20X 24X 28X 32X The copy fHmed here has been reproduced thanks to the generosity of: National Library of Canada L'exemplaire film6 fut reproduit grSce d la g6n6rosit6 de: Bibliothdque nationale du Canada The images appearing here are the best quality possible considering the condition and legibility of the original copy and in keeping with the filming contract specifications. Les images suivantes ont 6t6 reproduites avec le plus grand soin, compte tenu de la condition et de la nettetd de I'exempiaire film6, et en conformity avec les conditions du contrat de filmage. Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed beginning with the front cover and ending on the last page with a printed or illustrated impres- sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All other original copies are filmed beginning on the first page with a printed or illustrated impres- sion, and ending on the last page with a printed or illustrated impression. Les exemplaires originaux dont la couverture en papier est imprimde sont filmds en commenpant par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la dernidre page qui comporte une empreinte d'Impression ou d'illustration, soit par le second plat, selon le cas. Tous les autres exemplaires originaux sont filmds en commenpant par Is premidre page qui comporte une empreinte d'Impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par la dernidre page qui comporte une telle empreinte. The last recorded frame on each microfiche shall contain the symbol "-^ (meaning "CON- TINUED"), or the symbol V (meaning "END"), whichever applies. Un des symboles suivants apparaitra sur la dernidre image de cheque microfiche, selon le cas: le symbole ->*> gnifie "A SUIVRE", le symbole V signifie "hIN". Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrv^te the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvint dtre film^s d des taux de reduction diffdrents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre leproduit en un seul clich6, il est film6 d partsr de Tangle supdrieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images n^cessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mdthode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 Aut JOSH UA, A BIBLICAL PICTURE. BY GEORC EBERS, Author of " Uarda,'' ''An Egyptian Princess," etc., etc. ONLY AUTHORIZED EDITION. MONTREAL : JOHN LOVELL & SON, 23 St. Nicholas Street. Bntarad according t^ Act of Parliament in the year 1889, bf Jolm LovtH 6* Son, in tht ofEce of the liiniitcr of AgriedtaM and Statisticf at OtUwa. JOSHUA. ' ^ CHAPTER I. " Go down, grandfather. I will keep watch." But the old man to whom the words were spoken shook his shaven head. •* But up here you will get no rest." " And the stars ? — or even below ; rest, in such times as these I Throw my cloak over me — rest in such a fear- ful night ! " ** You are so cold ; and your hand and the instrument shake." *' Then steady my arm." The lad willingly obeyed the request ; but after a short space he exclaimed : " It is all in vain. Star after star is swallowed up in black clouds. Ah, and the bitter cry of the city comes up. Nay, it comes from our ow n house. I am sick at heart, grandfather ; only feel how hot ray head js. Come down, perchance they need help." " They are in the hands of the gods, and my place is here. But there, there I Eternal gods ! Look to the north across the lake ! No, more to the westward. They come from the city of the dead ! " " Oh, grandfather, father, there ! " cried the youth, a priestly neophyte, who was lending his aid to an elder whose grandson he was, the chief astrologer of Amon- Ra. They were standing on the watchtower of the temple of the god at Tanis, the capital of the Pharaohs, in the north of the land of Goshen. As he spoke he drew away his shoulder on which the old man was leaning. *' There^ there I Is the sea swallowing up the land ? Have the clouds fallen on the earth to surge to and iro ? Oh, grand- father, may the immortals have mercy ! the nether world 4 yjsnr.i. is yawning ! The great serpent Apep is come forth from the city of the dead ! It comes rolling past the temple. I see it, I hear it ! The great Hebrew's threat is being fulfilled ! Our race will be cut off from the earth. The serpent ! Its head is set toward the soutlieast. It will surely swallow up the young sun when it rises in the morn- ing ! " The old man's eyes followed the dirociion of the youth's finger, and he, too, could discern IJiat a vast, black mass, whose outline was lost in the darkness, came rolling through the gloom, and he, too, heard with a shudder the creature's low roar. Both stood with eye and car alert, staring into the night, but the star-gazer's eye was fixed not upward, but down, across the city to llie distant sea and level plain. Over- head all was silent, and yet not all at rest, for the wind swept the dark clouds into shapeless masses in one i)lace, while in another it rent the gray shroud, and scattered thi m far and wide. The moon was not visible to mortal ken, but the clouds ])laycd hide and seek with the bright southern stars, now covering them, and now giving their rays free passage. And as in the firmar.ient, so on earth there was a constant change from p;illid light to blackest darkness. Now the glitter of the heavenly bodies Hashed b' ighily down on the sea and estuary, on the polished granite sides of the obelisks in the temple ])recincts and the gilt coj^per roof of the king's airy palace; and again, lake and river, the sails in the harbor, the sanctuaries and streets of the city, and the palm-strewn plain surrounding it were all lost is gloom. Objects which the eye tried to rest on vanished in am instant, and it was the same with the sounds that met the ear. For a while the silence would be as deep as though all life, far anJ near, were hushed or dead, and then a piercing sliriek of woe rent the stillness of the night. And then, broken by longer or shorter pauses, that roar was heard which the youthful priest had taken for the voice of the seri)ent of the nether world ; and to that the grand- father and grandson listened with growing excitement. The dusky shape, whose ceaseless movements could be clearly made out whenever the stars shot their beams be- tween the striving clouds, had its beginning out by the cit^ J J yosniTA, 5 of the dcnd and the strangers' quarter. A sudden i)anic luul fallen on the vold man as on the young one, Uut he was quieker to recover himself, and his keen anil practiced eye 50on discovered that it was not a single gigantic form which was rising from the necropolis to cross the ]>lnin. but a muliitude of moving creatures who seem .1 to be surging ©r swaying to and fro on the meadow lantl. Xor did the hollow hum and wailing come up from one juirticulnr si)ot, but was audible now nearer and now more remote. Anon he fancied that was risi'ig from the bosom of the earth, and then again iliat it fell from some airy height. Fresh terror came upon the old astrologer. He seized his grand-on's hand in his right hand, and poiuiting with his left to the city of the dead, he cried in a trembling voice : " The dead are too many in number. The nelher world overflows, as the river does when its bed is too narrow for the waters of the south. Mow they swarm and sway and surge on ! How they part, hither and thither ! These are the ghosts of the tliousands whom black death hath snatched away, blasted by the Hebrew's curse, and sent unburied, unprotected from corruption, to descend the rungs of the ladder which loads to the world without end." '' Yea, it is they ! " cried the other, in full belief He snatched his hand from the old man's grasp and struck his fevered and burning brow, exclaiming, though hardly able to speak for terror : " They — the damned ! The wind has blown diem lO the sea, and its waters spew them out and cast them on the land again, and the blessed earth rejects them and drives them into the air. The pure ether of Shoo flings them back to the groimd, and now — look, listen ! They are groaning as they seek the way to tlie desert." " To the fire ! " cried the elder. " Flame, purify them : (vater, cleanse them ! " The youth joined in the old priest's form of exorcism, and while they chanted it in unison, the trap door was lifted which led to this observatory on the top of tlie highest gate of the temple, and a priest of humble grade cried to the old man : "Cease thy labors. Who cares now for the stars of heaven when all that has life is being darkened on earth ? " The old priest listened speechless, till the messenger 6 JOSHUA, went on to say that it was the astrologer's wife who had S'^nt for him, and then he gasped out : " Hora? Is my son then likewise stricken? " The priest then bent his head, and both his hearers wept bitterly, for the old man was bereft of his first-born son, and the lad of a tender father. But when the boy, trembling with fear, fell sick and sorrowing on his grandfather's breast, the elder hastily freed hims I from his embrace and went to the trapdoor ; for although the priest had announced himself as the messenger of death, it needs more than the bare word of another to persuade a father to give up all hope of life for his child. The old man went quickly down the stone stairs, through the lofty halls and wide courts of the temple ; and the lad followed him, although his shaking knees could scarcely carry his fevered frame. The blow which liad fallen within his own little circle had made the old man forget the fearful portent which threatened the whole world perhaps with ruin ; but the boy could not get rid of the vision ; even when he had passed the first court, and was in sight of the outermost pylons, to his terrified and anxious soul it seemed as though the shadows of the obelisks were spinning round, while the two stone statues of King Rameses on the corner piers of the great gate beat time with the crook in his hand. At this the lad dropj)cd fever-stricken on the ground. A convulsion distorted his features and tossed his slender frame to and fro in frantic spasms ; and the old man, falling on his knees, while he guarded the curly head from striking the hard stone flags, moaned in a low voice : " Now, it has fallen on him." Suddently he collected himself and shouted aloud for help, but in vain, and again in vain. At last his voice fell ; he sought consolation in prayer. Then he heard a sound of voices from the avenue of sphinxes leading to the great gate, and new hope revived in his heart. Who could it be who was arriving at so late an hour? Mingled with cries of grief the chanting of priests fell on his ear, the tinkle and clatter of the metallic sistrum shaken by holy women in honor of the god, and the measured footfall of men praying as they marched on. A solemn procession was approachir^. The astrologer raised his eyes, and after glancing at the double line of J J granite columns, colossal statues ard obelisks in the great court, looked up, in obedience to the habits of a lifetime, at the starry heavens above, and in the midst of his woe a bitter smile parted his sunken lips, for the gods this night lacked the honors that were their due. For on this night — the first after the new moon in the month of Pharmutec — the sanctuary in former years was wont to be gay with garlands of flowers. At the dawn of day after this moonless night the high festival of the spring equinox should begin, and with it the harvest thanks- giving. At this time a grand procession marched through the city to the river and harbor, as prescribed by the Book of the Divine Birth of the Sun, in honor of the great goddess Neith, of Rennoot, who bestows the gifts of the 5(.ld, and of Horus, at whose bidding the desert blooms ; bi t to day the silence of death reigned in the sanctuary, whose r'.urt- yards should have been crowded at this hour with men, women and children, bringing offerings to place on the very spot where his grandson lay under the hand of death. A broad beam of lighc suddenly fell into the vast court, which till now had been but dimly lighted by a few lamps. Could they be so mad as to think that the glad festival might be held in spite of the nameless horrors of the past night? Only the evening before, the priests in council had determined that during this pitiless pestilence the temples were to be left unadorned and processions to be prohibited. By noon yesterday many had failed to attend because the plague had fallen on their households, and the terror had now come into this very sanctuary, while he, who could read the stars, had been watching them in their courses. Why else should it have been deserted by the watchmen and other astrologers, who had been with him at sunset, and whose duty it was to keep vigil here all night ? He turned once more to the suffering boy with tender anxiety, but instantly started to his feet, for the gates were opened wide, and the light of torches and lanterns poured into the temple court. A glance at the sky showed him that it was not long past midnight, and yet his fears were surely well grounded — these must be the priests crowding into the temple to prepare for the harvest festival. JOSHUA, Not so. For when had they come to the sanctuary for this purpose, chanting and in i)ioccssion ? Nor were these all servants of the divinity. The iJOpulacc had joined them. In that solemn litany he could hear the shrill wailing of women mingled witli wild cries of despair such as he had never bcfo.e, in the course of a long life, heard within these consecrated walls. Or did his senses deceive him ? Was it the groaning horde of unresting souls which he had seen from the observatory who were crowding into the sanctuary of the god ? Fresh horrors fell upon him ; he threw uj) his arms in interdiction, and for a few moments repeated the formula against the malice of evil spirits ; but he presently dropped his hands, for he marked among the throng some friends who yesterday, at any rate, had been in the land of the living. Foremost, the tall figure of the second prophet of the god ; then the women devoted to the service of Amon- Ra, the singers and the holy fathers ; and when at last, behind the astrologers and pastophoroi, he saw his son-in- law, whose home had till yesterday been spared by the plague, he took heart and spoke to him. But his voice was drowned by the song and cries of the coming multitude. The courtyard was now fully lighted ; but every one was so absorbed in his own sorrow that no one heeded the old astrologer. He snatched the cloak off his own shivering body to make a better pillow for the boy's tossing head, and whi!: he did so,- with fatherly care, he could hear among the chanting and wailing of the approaching crowd, first, frantic curses on the Hebrews, through whom these woes had fallen on Pharaoh and his people, and then, again and again, the name of the heir to the crown. Prince Rameses ; and the tone in which it was spoken, and the formulas of mourning which were added, announced to all who had ears to hear that the eyes of the first-born of the king on his throne were also sealed in death. As he gazed with growing anguish in his grandson's pale face, the lamentations for the prince rang out afresh and louder than ever, and a faint sense of satisfaction crept into his soul at the impartiality of Death, who spared not the sovereign on his throne any more than the beggar by the wayside. josnvA. ^, He knew now what had brought this noisy throng to tljc sanctuary. He went forward with such haste as his old limbs would allow to meet the column of mourners, but before he could join them he saw the gatekeeper and his wife come out of the gatehouse, bearing between them, on a mat, the corpse of a boy. The husband held one end, his frail, liny wife held the other ; and the stalwart man had to stooj) low to keep their stiff burden in a horizontal position that it might not slip down towards the woman. Three children closed the melancholy party, and a little girl holding a lantern led the way. No one, perhaps, would have observed them, but that the gatekeeper's wife shrieked forth her griefs so loudly and shrilly that it was impossible not to hear her cries. The second i)rophet of Anion turned to look, and then his compa- nions ; the procession came to a standstill, and, as some of the i)riests went nearer to the body, the father cried in a loud voice : " Away, away from the plague-stricken ! Our first-born is dead ! " The mother, meanwhile, had snatched the lantern from her little daughter, and, holding it so as to throw a light on the face of the dead boy, she shrieked out : *' The god hath suffered it to come to jjass. Yes, even under our own roof. But it is not his will, but the curse of the stranger in the land that has come over us and our lives. Behold, this was the first-born; and two emple servants have likewise been taken. One is dead already ; he is lying in our little room yonder ; and there — see, there lies young Kamus, the grandson of Rameri, the star- reader. We heard the old man calling and saw what was happening, but who can hold another man's house up when his own is falling about his ears? Beware while it is /-^t time, for the gods have opened even the temple gates to the abomination, and if the whole world should perish I should not be surprised, and never complain — certainly not. My lords and priests, I am but a poor and humble woman, but am I not in the right when I ask : Are our gods asleep ? Has a magic spell bound them ? Or what are they doing, and where are they, that they leave us and our children in the power of the vile Hebrew race ? " 10 JOSHUA. *' Down with them ! Down with the strangers I They are magicians. Into the sea with Mesu,* the sorcerer ! " As an echo follows a cry, so did these imprecations follow the woman's curse ; and Hornecht, the old astrologer's son-in law, captain of the archers, whose blood boiled over at the sight of his dying, fair young nephew, brandished his short sword, and cried in a frenzy of rage : " Follow me, every man who has a heart ! At them ! Life for life ! Ten Hebrews for each Egyptian whom their sorcerer has killed ! " A flock will rush into the fire if only the ram leads the way, and the crowd flocked to follow the noble warrior. The women pushed in front of the men, thronging the door- way, and as the servants of the sanctuary hesitated till they should know the opinion of the prophet of Amon, their leader drew up in his majestic figure, and said deli- berately : '* All who wear priests' robes remain to pray with me. The people are the instrument of heaven, and it is theirs to repay. We stay here to pray for success to their ven- geance." CHAPTER H. Baie, the second prophet of Amon, who acted as deputy for the now infirm old head prophet and high priest Ruie, withdrew into the holy of holies, and while the multitude of the inferior ministers of the god proceeded to their various duties, the infuriated crowd hurried through the streets of the town to the strangers' quarter. As a swollen torrent raging through a valley carries down with it everything in its way, so the throng, as they rushed to their revenge, compelled every one on tlicir road to join them. Every Egyptian from whom dcalh had snatched his nearest and dearest Wus ready to j.)i;i the swelling tide, and it grew till it numbered hundred ; of thousands. Men, women and children, slaves and free, borne on the wings of their desire to wreak ruin and death on the detested Hebrews, flew to the distant quarter wb.erc they dwelt. # Mesu is the Egyptian form of the rame of Moses. JOSHUA. fl How this artisan had laid hold of a chopper or that housewife had clutched an axe, they themselves scarcely knew. They rushed on to kill and destroy, and they had not sought the weapons they needed ; Ihe/ had found them ready to their hand. The first they hoped to fall upon in their mad fury was Nun, a venerable Hebrew, respected and beloved by manjr — a man rich in herds, who had don: much kindness to the Egyptians ; but where hatred and revenge make them- selves heard, gratitude stands shy and speechless in the background. His large estates lay, like the houses and huts of the men of his race, in the strangers' quarter, to the west of Tanis, and were the nearest oi them all to the streets inha- bited by the Egyptians themselves. At this morning hour Nun's flocks and herds were wont to be taken, first to water, and then to the pasture ; so the large yard in front of his house would be full of cattle, farm men and women, carts and field implements. The owner himself commonly ordered the going of his beasts, and he and iiis were to be the first victims of the popular rage. The swiftest runners had already reached his spacious farm, and among them Hornecht, the captain of the arch- ers. There lay the house and buildings in the first bright beams of the morning sun, and a brawny smith kicked violently at the closed door ; but there was no bolt, and it flew open so readily that he had to clutch at the door post to save himself from falling. Others pushed by him into the courtyard, among them the archer chief. But what was the meaning of this ? Had some new charm been wrought to show the power of Mcsu, who had brought such terrible plagues already on the land, and display the might of his god ? The yard was empty, absolutely empty ; only in their stalls lay a few cattle and sheep, slain because they had suflfcrcd from injury, while a lame lamb hcbbled away at the sight of the intruders. Even the carts and barrows had vanished. The groaning and bleating crowd, which the star-gazer had taken to be the spirits of the damned, was the host of the Hebrews, who had fled by night with all their herds, under the guidance of Moses. The leader dropped his sword, and it might liave been thought that the scene btibrc him was to him an agreeable 13 JOSHUA. surprise ; but his companion, a scribe from the king's treasury, looked round the deserted courtyard with the dis- appointed air of a man who has been cheated. The tide of passions and schemes which had risen high during the night, ebbed under the broad light of day. Even the soldier's easily-stirred ire had subsided to compa- rative calm. The mob might have done their worst to the other Hebrews, but not to Nun, whose son Hosea (Joshua) had been his comrade in battle, one of the most esteenud captains in the field, and a private friend of his own. If Hornecht had foreseen that Nun's farmstead would be the first spot to be attacked, he would never have led the mob to their revenge, and once more in his life he bitterly rued that he had been carried away by sudden wrath to forget the calm demeanor which beseemed his years. And now, while some of the crowd proceeded to rille and pull down Nun's deserted dwellings, men and women came running in to say that no living soul was to be found in any of the other houses near. Some had to tell of yelling cats squat- ting on vacant heartlis, of beasts pact service found slaughtered, and broken household gear, till at last the angry crowd dragged forward a Hebrew with his fam'ly, and a grey-haired, half-witted woman whom they had hunted out among some straw. Tiie old woman laughed foolishly and said that her people had called her till they were hoarse, but Mehela knew better; and as for walking, walking forever, as her people meant to do, that she could not ; her feet were too tender, and she had not even a pair of sandals. The man, a hideous Jew, whom few even of his own race would have regarded with pity, declared, first with humi- lity, bordering on servility, and then with the insolent daring that was natural to him, that he had nothing to do with the god of lies in whose name the impostor Moses had tempted away his people, but that he and his wife and child had always been friends with the Egyptians. As a matter of fact he was known to many, being an usurer, and when the rest of his tribe had taken up their staves he had hidden himself, hoping to pursue his dishonest dealings and come to no loss. But some of his debtors were among the furious mob ; and even with ut them he had not a chance for his life, for he was the fust object on which the excited multitude JOSHUA. »3 could prove that they were in earnest in their revenge. They rushed on him with yells of rage, and in a few minutes the bodies of the hapless wretch and his family lay dead on the groun J. No one knew who had done the bloody deed ; too many had fallen on the victims at once. Others who had remained behind were dragged forth from houses or hovels, and they were not a few, though many had time to escape into the country. These all fell victims to the wrath of the populace ; and while their blood was flowing, axes were heaved, and doors and walls were battered down with beams and posts to destroy the dwellings of the detested race from the face of the earth. The glowing embers which some furious women had brought with them were extinguished and trodden out, for the more prudent warned them of the danger which must threaten their own adjoining dwellings and the whole city of Tanis if the strangers' quarter were set in flames. Thus the homes of the Hebrews were spared from fire, but as the sun rose higher the site of the dwellings they had deserted was wrapped in an impenetrable cloud of white dust from the ruins, and on the spot where, but yesterday, thousands of human beings had iiad a lappy home, and where vast herds had slak-.d their thirst by fresh waters, nothing v/as now to be seen but hea[is of rubbish and stone, while broken timber and splintered woodwork strewed the scorching soil. Dogs and cats, abandoned by the fugitives, prowled among the ruins, and were presently joined by the women and children who herded in the beggars' hovels on the skirts of the neighbor- ing necropolis, and who now, with their hands over their mouths, poked among the choking dust and piles of lumber for any vessels or broken victuals which the He- brews might have left behind and the plunderers have over- looked. In the course of the afternoon Baie was borne in his litter past the scene of devastation. He had not come hither to feast his eyes on the sight of the ruins, but because they lay in the nearest way from the city of the dead to his own home. Nevertheless, a smile of satisfaction curled his grave lips as he noted how thoroughly the populace had done their work. What he himself had hoped to see had not indeed been carried out ) the leader of the fugitives had JOSHUA. I 1 CYaded their revenge; but hatred, though it is never satiated, can be easily gratified. Even the smaller woes of an enemy are joy, and the priest had just quitted the mourning Pharaoh, and though he had not yet succeeded in freeing him completely from the bonds laid upon him. by the Hebrew soothsayer, yet he had loosened them. Three words had the proud, ambitious man murmured to himself again and again — a man not wont to talk to him- self — as he sat alone in the sanctuary, meditating on what had happened and on what had to be done ; and those three words were : " Bless me also 1 " It was Pharaoh who had spoken them, addressing the petition to another ; and that other not old Ruie, the pon- tiff and high priest, nor Baie himself, the only men living whose privilege it could be to bless the king ; no, but the worst of the accursed, the stranger, the Hebrew Mesu^ whom he hated as he haled none other on earth. " Bless me also 1 " That pious entreaty, which springs so confidingly from the human soul in anguish, had pierced his soul like a dagger-thrust. He felt as though such a prayer, addressed by such lips to such a man, had broken the staff in the hand of the whole priesthood of Egypt, had wrenched the panther skin from its shoulders, and cast a stain on all the nation he loved. He knew Mesu well for one of the wisest sages ever pro- duced by the schools of Egypt ; he knew full well that Pharaoh was spell bound by this man, who had grown up in his house, and had been the friend of the great Rameses, his father. He had seen the monarch pardon misdeeds in Mesu which any other man, were he the highest in the land, must have expiated with his life ; and how dear must this Hebrew have been to Pharaoh — the sun-god on the throne of the world — when he could compel the king, standing by the death-bed of his son, to uplift his hands to him and implore him : " Bless me also." All this he had told himself and weighed with due care, and still he, Baie, could not, would not, yield to the power- ful Hebrew. He had regarded it as his most urgent and sacred duty to bring destruction on him and his whole race. To fulfil that duty he would not have hesitated to lay hands on the throne ; indeed, in his eyes, by the utterance of that blasphemous entreaty, "Bless me also," Pharaoh Menephtah had forfeited his right to the sovereignty. I yosjjUAi *s I ' I Moses was the murderer of Pharaoh's first-born, whereas^ he himself and the venerable high priest of Amon held the weal or woe of the deceased youth's soul in their hands. And this weapon was a keen and a strong one, for he knew how tender and irresolute was the king's heart. If the high-priest of Amon — the only man who stood above him —-did not contravene him in some unaccountable fit of senile caprice, it would be a small matter to reduce Pharaoh to submission, but the vacillating monarch might repent to-morrow of what he resolved to-day, if the Hebrew should again succeed in coming between him and his Egyptian counselors. Only this very day, on hearing the name of Moses spoken in his presence, the degenerate son of Rameses the Great had covered his face and quaked like a frightened gazelle, and to-morrow he might curse him and pronounce sentence of death against him. He might perhaps be persuaded to do this ; but even then by the day after he would very surely recall him and beseech his blessing once more. Away with such a monarch ! Down with the feeble reed who sat on the throne, down to the very dust ! Baie had found a fitting successor among the princes of the blood royal, and when the time should come — when Ruie, the high priest of Amon, should cross the boundary of the time of life granted to man by the gods, and close his eyes in death — then he, Baie himself, would fill his place ; a new life should begin for Egypt, and Moses and his tribes were doomed. As the prophet thus meditated a pair of ravens fluttered tround his head, and then, croaking loudly, alighted on the dusky ruins of one of the wrecked tenements. His eye involuntarily followed their flight and perceived that they had settled on the body of a dead Hebrew, half buried in rubbish ; and again a smile stole over his cunning, defiant features, a smile which the inferior priests who stood about his litter could by no means interpret. 96 yOSHUA. CHAPTER III. HoRNECHT, captain of the bowmen, had b> this time joined company with the prophet. He was, indeed, in his con fidcncc, for the warrior likewise was one of the men of high rank who had conspired to overthrow the reigning Pharaoh. As they approached the ruined dwelHng of Nun the priest pointed to the heap of destruction and said : " The man to whom this once belonged is the only Hebrew I fain would spare. He was a man of worth, and his son Joshua " " Ke will be true to us," interrupted the captain. " Few better men serve in the ranks of Pharaoh's armies, and," he added, in a lower voice, *" I count on him in the day of deliverance." " Of that we will speak before fewer witnesses," replied the other. " But I owe him a special debt of gratitude. During the Libyan war — you know of it — I was betrayed into the hands of the enemy, and Joshua, with his handful of men, cut me a way of escape from the wild robbers." TJien, dropping his voice, he went on in his didactic man- ner, as though he were making excuse for the mischief before them. " Such is life here below ! When a whole race of men incurs punishment, the evil falls on the guilt- less with the guilty. Not even the gods can in such a case divide the individual from the mob ; the visitation falls even on the innocent beasts. Look at that flock of pigeons hovering ever the ruins ; they seek the dovecote in vain. And that cat with her kittens ! Go, Bekie, and rescue them ; it is our duty to preserve the sacred animal3 from starving to death." And this man, who had contemplated the destruction of so many of his fellow-creatures with barbarous joy, took the kindly care of the unreasoning brutes so niucli to heart that he made the bearers stop, and looked on while the servants cauglit the cats. But this was not so quickly done as he had hoped, for the mother fled into the nearest cellar- opening, and the gap was so narrow as to prevent f '■% yos/fVA. »7 )med con "high raoh. \ the « The irew I is son " Few and," day of eplied titiide. jtrayed and fill bers." man- schicf whole guilt- acase falls ock of )vecote ie, and mimala :tion of took o heart lile the quickly nearest revent n the men from following lur. However, the youngest of them all, a slim Nubian, undertook to fetch her out ; but he had liardly looked down into the opening when he started l)ack and cried to his lord : ** A human being is lying there, and seems to be yet alive. Yes, he beckons with his liand. It is a boy or a youth, and certainly not a slave. His liair is long and curly, and on his arm — for a sunbeam falls straight in — I can see a broad gold band." " One of the family of Nun, perhai)s, who has been for- gotten," said the warrior, and 13aie eagerly added : " It is the guidance of the gods ! The sacred beasts have led me to the spot where I may do a service to the man to whom I owe so much. Try and make your way in, ik^kie, and fetcli the youth out." The Nubian, meanwhile, had moved away a stone, which, in its fall, had partly closed the entrance, and in a short while he held u|; to his comrades a motionless young form, which they lifted out into the open air and carried to a well. There they soon brought him back to life wilh the cool water. As he recovered consciousness he rubbed his eyes, looked about him in bewilderment as thouiih he knew not where he was, and then his head fell on his breast as if overcome by grief and horror, and it could be seen that at the back of his head the hair was matted with dark patclies of dried blood. By the prophet's care the wound, which was deep, from a stone which had fallen on the lad, was washed at the well ; and when it was bound up he bid him get into his own litter, which was screened from the sun. The youth had arrived before sunrise, after a long walk bf night from Pithom, called by the Hebrews Succoth, to bring a message to his grandfather, Nun, but finding the place deserted he had lain down in one of the empty rooms to rest awhile. Awakening at the uproar of the infuriated Egyptians, and hearing the curses on his race, which rang out on every side, he had fled to the cellar, and the falling roof, although he had been hurt, had proved his salvation, for the clouds of dust which had hidden everything as it crashed down had concealed him from tlie sight of the plunderers. The priest gazed at him attentively, and though the i8 yos/iUA, II youth was unwashed and jialc, with a blood-stained band- age around his head, he could see that the being he had restored to life was a handsome, well-grown lad, on the verge of manhood. Full of eager sympathy, he mollified the stern gravity of his eye, and questioned him kindly as lo whence he came ar.d what had brought him to Tanis, for it was impossible to tell from the youth's features even of what nation he might be. He might easily have passed himself off as an Egyptian, but he quiie frankly owned that he was the grandson of Nun. He was eighteen years of age, his name was Ephraim, like his ancestor the son of Joseph, and he had come to see his grandfather. And he spoke with an accent of steadfast self-respect and joy in his illustrious descent. When asked whethc. he had been the bearer of a message he did not forthwith reply, but after collecting his thoughts he looked fearlessly into the prophet's face and answered frankly : '* Be you who you may, I have been taught to speak the truth. You shall know, then, that I have another kinsman dwelling in Tanis — Joshua, the son of Nun, who is a captain in Pharaoh's army, and I have a message for him." "And you shall know," replied the priest, "that it was for the sake of that very Josnua that I lingered here and bid my servants rescue you alive from that ruined house. I owe him thanks ; and although the greater number of your nation have done deeds worthy of the heaviest punishment, yet for his noble sake you shall dwell among us free and unharmed." On this the boy looked up at the priest with a flash of eager pride ; but before he could speak, Bale went on with encouraging friendliness : " I read in your eyes, my boy, if I am not mistaken, that you are come to seek service under your Uncle Joshua in Pharaoh's army. Your stature should make you skillful in handling weapons, -and you certainly cannot lack for daring." A smile of flattered vanity lighted up Ephraim's face, and turning the broad gold bangle on his arm, perhaps unconsciously, he eagerly replied : " I am brave, my lord, and have proved it often in the hunting-field. But at home there are cattle and sheep in abundance, which I already call my own, and it seems to 1 JOSHUA. 19 had the ified ly as s,for en of issed 1 that ars of son of aid he joy in cssage oughts swered eak the Lin small captain it it was -icrc and d bouse, imber of heaviest 1 among flash of on with iken,tbat Joshua in skillful in lack for lim's face, L perhaps Iften in the „ sheep in It seems to me a better lot to wander free and rule the shepherds, than to do what others bid me." " So, so," replied the priest. " Well, Joshua perhaps will bring you to another and a better mind. To rule ! a noble goal indeed for a youtli ! The piiy is that we who have reached it are but servants, the more iieavily-bur- dcned in proportion to the greater number of thoso w!io obey us. You understand me, captain ; and you. boy, will understand me later, when you have become such a palm tree as your sapling growth ])romises. But time presses. Who sent you hither to Joshua? " The youth again looked down and hesitated ; but when the prophet had broken in on liis st.jnce by saying, " And that candor which you have been taught ? " he replied firmly and decidedly : " I came to do i)leasure to a woman whom you know not. Let that suffice." '• A woman ! " echoed the prophet, and he cast an in- quiring glance at Ilornccht. " When a valiant warrior and a fair woman seek each other the Hathors are wont to intervene and use the binding * cords, but it ill be- seems a minister of the divinity to play spectator to such doings, so I inquire no further. Take this boy under your protection, captain, and help him to carry his errand to Rosea. The only question is whether he is yet returned." "No," replied the soldier, " but this very day he and 10,000 men are exjjected at the armory." " Then may the Hathors, who favor lovc-mes.sages, bring these two to a meeting no later than to-morrow ! " cried the priest. But the youth broke in indignantly : '' I bear no love-message from one to the other ! " And the priest, who was well pleased by his boldness, re- plied gayly : " I had forgotten that I am speaking to a shep- herd-prince." 'i'hen he added more gravely, " When you shall have found Joshua give him greeting from me, and say to him tiiat Baie, the second prophet of Anion, whom lie saved from the hand of the Libyans, believes that he is paying some part of his debt by extending a protecting hand over you, liis ne])hcw. You, bold youth, know not, perhaps, that you were in other and greater danger than that from your wound. The furious Egyptians would no more have spared your life than would the choking dust • Tlie Hathors were the Egyptian love goddesses. They are often depicted with cords in their hands. I 20 yosiiuA. and falling houses. Bear that in mind, and tell Joshua, moreover, from me, Baie, that I am sure that as soon as he sees with his own eyes the misery wrought on ihc house of Pharoah, to which he has sworn alloiiiance, and with it on this city and on the whole land, by the magic arts of one of your race, he will cut himself >.){{ in horror from those cowards. For they have basely fled, after slaying the best and dearest of those among whom they have dwelt in peace, whose protection ihcy have enjoyed, nnd who for long years have given them work and fed them abundantly. If 1 know him at all, as an honest man he will turn his back on those who have sinned thus. And you may tell him likewise, that the Hebrew officers and fighting men under the captainship of Aarsu, the Syrian, have already done so of their own free will. This day — and Joshua will have heard the tidings from others — thoy offered sacrifice, not only to their own gods, Baal and Sei, whom you, too, many of you, were wont to serve before the vile magician, Mesu, led you astray, but also to Father Anion and the sacred nine of our eternal gods. And if he will do likewise, he and I. hand in h;)nd, will rise to great power — of that he may be assured — and he is worthy of il. The rest of the debt of gratitude I still owe him I will find other means of paying, which as yet must remain undiscovered. But you may promise your uncle from me that I will take care of Nun, his worthy father, when the vengeance oi the gods and of Pharaoh overtakes the other men of your nation. Already — tell him this likewise — is the sword set, and judgment without mercy shall be done on them. Tell him to ask himself what can fugitive shepherds do against the might of that army of which he himself is one of the captains ? I.i your father yet alive, my son ? " *' No ; he was borne out long since,' replied Ephraim in a broken voice. Was it that the fever of his wound was too much for him? That the disgrace of belonging to a race who could do such shameful deeds overpowered his young soul? Or was the youth true to his people, and was it wrath and indignation that made his cheek turn pale, then red, and stirred up such tunnoil in his soul that he could hardly speak ? No matter. But it was clear that he was no fift bearer of this message to his uncle, and the priest I JOSHUA, 31 ma, n as ihe and lagic jrror after they )ycd, dfed . man thus. •s and yrian, —and -tbry d Sci, before Father And if rise to worthy him I remain e from when es the ikewise hall be fugitive [hich he ;t alive, Iraim in luch for ice who young was it lie, then le could It he was le priest signed to the captain to come with him under the shade of a broad sycamore tree. The Hebrew must at any rate be retained with the army ; he laid his hand on iiis friend's shoulder, saying : " You know tliat it was my wife who won you over to our great scheme. She serves it better and with greater zeal than many a man, and while 1 admire your (laughter's beauty, she is full of praises of her win- ning charm." "And Kasana is to join the conspiracy?" exclaimed the soldier in displeasure. " Not as an active partner, like my wife — of course not." *'She would hardly serve that end," replied the other in a calmer tone. " for she is like a child." "And yet she may "vin over to our cause n in;',.! \.lHjse goodwi'l ai)pears lo be incsiimable." "You mean losluia? " asked Hornecht, and again his brow grew black, while the prophet went on. "And if I do? Is he not a noble Hebrew, and can you think it unworthy of the daughter of a warrior of valor to give her hand to the man who, if our undertaking prospers, will act as chief captain over all the troops of the land ? " " No, my lord," cried the archer. " But one of the causes of my wrath against Pharaoh, and of my taking part with Siptah, is that his mother was not of our nation, while Egyptian blood flows in Siptah's veins. Now, the mother determines a man's race, and Joshua's mother was a Hebrew woman. I call him my friend ; 1 know how to value his merits ; Kasana is well inclined to him " "And yet you desire a greater son-in-law?" interrupted Baie. " How can our ditticult enterprise prosper if those who risk their lives in it think the very first sacrifice too great? And your daughter, you say, is well inclined to Joshua." " She was ; yes. truly." the soldier put in. " Yes, her heart longed after him. But I brought her to obedience ; she became the wife of another ; and now that she is a widow shall I be tlie one to offer her to him whom T co!n- pelled her to give up — the gods alone know how hardly ? When was the like ever heard of in Egypt ? " " Whenever the men and women by the Nile have so far mastered themselves as to submit to necessity in opposition to their own wishes, for the sake of a great 23 JOSHUA. cause," replied tlu' prit-st. '' Think of these things. VW shall meet agaiji this evening — you know where. Mean- while will you give hospitality to Joshua's nephew and bespeak your fair daughter's care, for he seems to need it sorely." In fact, hunger, thirst, loss of blood and a long struggle against suffocation had broken Kphraim's youthful strength. On the skirts of the necropolis, where litters stood awaiting the convenience of visitors, he was ])la(;ed in one by himself and carried to his destination. CHAPTER IV. There was mourning in the house of Hornecht, as in every house in the oily. The men had shaved their hods and the women had strewn dust on their foreheads. The captain's wife was long since dead, but his daughter and her women met him with waving veils and loud wailing, for their lord's brolher-ir-law was l)cr( ft both (if his fu'st- born son and of his grandson ; and in how many houses of their circle of friends had the plague claimed its victims. However, tlie fainting youtli demanded all tlie women's care ; he was washed, and the deej) wound in his head was freshly bound \\\) ; strong wine and Ibod were set before him, and then, refreslied and strengthened, he followed at the bidding of his host's daughter. The dust-stained and exhausted lad now stood revealed as a handsome yo'.mg fellow. His scented hair flowed in long, waving locks fi(jm beneath tlie clean, while bandage, and his elastic, sunbiiriU limbs v.\ re <•< \ ered by Egyj,lian garments embroidered with gold oit cf the wardrobe of the captain's deceased son-in-law. He seemed pleased to see himself in the handsome raiment, from wliich there jiroceeded a fragrance of spikenard new to his experience, for his black eyes brightly lighted up his well-cut features. It was long since the captain's daughter had seen a b?tter-favored youth, and she herself was full of great and lovely charm. After a brief married life with a man she had never loved, Kasana, within a year, had come back a wi^ow to her father's house, where there was now no mistress j and the great wealth of which she had become yosiir.-i. *3 VVe- aiid •d it a 3 in ho lis The IX and ailing, Is firsi- iises of tims. omen's s head ere set ed, he evealed nved in andage, gyiAian irobe of jased to ch there lerience. features, seen a Teat and man she ne back now no I become possessed by her luisband's deatii cnnljlcd her to l)ring mto the warrior's modc-st home the splendor and luxury whicli to hei iuu.l become a necessity. Her laUu'r, wlio in many a content had proved himself a man of violent temper, now yielded to her will in all things. In past time ho had rulhlessly asserted hi.s own, and had forced her at the a:ie of fifieen into a marriage with a man much older than herself. This he had done because lie had observed ihal Kasana's yo^.tig heart was set on Joshua, the man of war, and he <U'eme<l it benenth him to accept the Hebrew, who at that time held no place of honor in the ainiy, as a .son-in-law. An l'!L,yi)tian could but obey her fnther without demur wJieii he chose her a husband, and so Kasana luid siil)inilled, though dur- ing the period of her betrothal she shed so many bitter tears that the archer-captain uas glad indeed when she had done his bidding and given her hand to the inisband of his choice. 13ut even in her widowhood his daughter's heart clung to the Hebrew ; for when the army was in the field she never ceased to be ar/xious, and sijenther da} s and nights in troubled unrest. When tidings came from the front she asked only concerning Joshua, and ii v/as to her !v)Ve for him ilmt Hornccht, with deep vexation, ascribed her rei)eatLd rejection of suitor after suitor. As a widow she had ihe right to dis[>ose of her liaiid, and ilii:-. gentle yield- ing young creature would amazt^ her faihor by the abrupt decisiveness with which she made her independence felt, not alone to him and her suitors, bui likewise lo I'rince Siptnh. whose cause her father had made his own. This day Kasana expressed her satisfaction at Joshua's home-coming so frankly aiul unreservedly, that ih • hot- tempered man hastened out of tiie house lest he should be led into some ill-consid(,'red act or speech. He lel't the care of their young guest to his daughter ami licr faithful nurse : and how delightful to the lad's sensitive soul was the effeci of the warrior's home, Midi its loiiy, airy rooms, open colonnades and bright, richly-colored paintings ; its artistic vessels and ornaments, soft couches and all-j)er- yading fragrance. All this was new and htrajige to the son of a i)astoral patriarch, accrstonvd to live v/ithin the bare, grey walls of a spacious, but perfectly grace- less farm dwelling ; or^ for months at a time in canvas a^. JOSHUA. tents, amid flocks and shepherds, and more often in the open air than under a roof or shelter. He felt as though by enchantment he had been transported to soil< higher and more desirable world, and as though he becairr it well in his splendid garb, with his oiled and pci- fumcd curls and freshly-bathed limbs. Life, indeed, was everywhere fair, even out in the fields among ihe herds, or in the cool of the evening round the fire in fronl of the tent, where the shepherds sang songs, ai d the hunlcrs told tales of adventure, while the stars siione brightly overhead. But hard and haled labor had first to bo done. Here it was a joy merely to gaze and breathe; and when presently the curtain was lifted and the joung widow greeted him kindly and n;a le him sit down by her, now questioning him and now listening sympathetically to his replies, he almost fancied that he had lost iiis senses, as he had done under the ruins in the cellar, and that the sweetest of dreams was cheating him. riu: feeling wjiich now seemed to choke him, and again and aj'.ain hintlered his utterance, was surely the ex'^ess of bii..s poured down upon him by great Astarte, the partner of liaal, of wlioiu he had heard many tales from the Phoe- niciriu traders who supj^lied the shepherd settlers with various good things, and of whom he was forbidden by sle.ii Miriam ever to speak at home. His i)eople had implanted in his young soul a hatred of the Egyptians as the opi)ressors of his race ; but could they be so evil, eouid he abhor a nation among whom there were snch b ings to be found as the fair and gentle lady who looked so softly and yet so warmly into his eyes ; whose gr.ze set liis blood in such swift motion that he could hardly boar it, as he ])resse<l his hand to Jiis heart to still its wild throbbing? There she- sat oj^posite to him, on a stool covered with a ])anther skin, and drew the wool from the distaff. Hr had taken lier tancy, and she had welcomed him warmly because he was kin to the man she had loved from her childhood. She believed she could trace a likeness in him to Joshua, although the boy still lacked the gravity of the man to whom she had given her yoimg heart, when and how she herself could not tell, for he had never sued for he~ loye. .f I JOSHUA. 25 'd with He warmly lotn her in him of the jen an4 liied for A lotos-flower was fastened into her well-arranged waving black hair, and ils stem lay in a graceful curve on her bent neck, round which hung a mass of beautiful curls. When she raised her eyes to look into his, it was as though two deep wells opened before him to pour streams of bliss into his young breast, and that slender hand, which spun the yarn, he had already touched in greeting and held in his own. Prescnily she inquired of him concerning Joshua and the woman M'ho had sent him a message — N^Iuther she were young and fair, and whether there were any tie of love between her and his uncle. At this K])hraim laughed aloud. For she who had sent him was so grave and stern that the mere idea of her Ijeing capable of a tender emo- tion roused his mirth. As to whether she were fair, he had never given it a thought. The young widow took this laughter as the most wel come reply she could hear, and with a sigh of relief she laid aside the spindle she held and desired Ephraim to come with her into the garden. How sweet it was with scent and bloom, how well trimmed were the beds, the paths, the arbors and the pool 1 The only j)leasance of his simple home was a broad courtyard devoid of ornament, full of pens for cattle and sheep ; yet he knew that some day he would be ruler over great possessions, for he was the only son and heir of a rich father, and his mother was a daughter of the wealthy Nim. The serving-men had told him all this many a time, and it vexed his soul to see that his own home was little better than the quarters for the captain's slaves, which Kasana pointed out to him. As they rambled through the garden she bid Ephraim help her pluck some flowers, and when the basket which he carried for her was full, she invited him to sit with her in an arbor, and lend a hand in twining garlands. These were offerings to the beloved dead. Her uncle and a favorite cousin — somewhat like Ephraim himself — had been snatched away during the past night by the pesti- lence, which his folks had brought upon Tanis. And from the street which ran along the garden wall the wailinr; of women was incessantly heard, as they mourned over the dead or bore a corpse to its burying; and, when suddenly it rose louder and more woeful than before, she 26 JUSHLrA. I gently reproached him for all that the people of Tanis had suffered for the sake of the Hebrews, and asked him if he could deny that her nation had good reason lo hate a race that had brought such plagues upon it. To this he found it difficult to answer discreetly, for he had been told that it was the God of hi."^ i)cople who had stricken the Egyptians, to release His own from oppres- sion and slavery, and he dare not deny or contemn his own tlcsh and blood. So he was siiciu. ;i,ai hii might neither lie nor blaspheme, but she gave him no pciircnnd at last he made answer that all which ended in soriow was repugnant to him, i.)ut that liis people had ih) fowcr over health and hfe, and that when a Hebrew was sick he very commonly applied to an Egyptian leech. VVliat had now come to ]tass was no doubt the act of the gicat (Ic d of l.is fathers, who was of more might than all other gods. He, at any rate, was a Hebrew, and she might believe him when he assured her that lio was guiltless of the pestilence, and that he would gladly call her uncle and cousin back to life again if he had it in his power. Eor her sake he was ready to do anything, even the hardest task. She smiled on him sweetly and said : " Poor boy ! If I fmd a fault v\ you, it is only iliat you belong to a race to whom patience nrid pity ore alike unknc wn. Alas ! for our hapless and beloved dead. They must even be de- prived of the songs ' f lamentation (;f those who mourn for them ; for the house where tl.cy lie is plague-stricken and none may enter there." She dried h-. r eyes and said i";o hiure, but wcni (,n wind- ing her garland ; but tear after tear rolled drvn her cheeks. He knew not what more to say, and could only hand her flowers and leaves. Whenever her hand chanced to touch his, the blood coursed hotly through his veins. His head and the wound began to ache violently, and now and then he shivered. He felt that the fever was gaining on him, as it had once before, when he had nearly lost hi& life in the red sickness, but he was ashamed to confess it, and held out against it. When the sun was getting low the captain came out into the garden. He had already seen Joshua, and, although he was sincerely glad to meet his trusted friend once more, he had been ill pleased and uneasy that, before all else, he had 'made warm inquiry for his daughter. He did not I \ I yo.si/L .4. 27 jad he e a r he had )res- his light J ! If I race to as ! for be de- lurn for ccn and nwind- wn her Id only ;hanccd is vein?;- and now i gaining lost his- nfess itr out into although ce more, I else, he I did not conceal this from Kasana, but the glare of his eyes revealed the dissatisfaction with which Jie greeted her from the Hebrew. Then he turned to Ephraim, and told him that Joshua with his host had halted outside tlie city by reason of the plague. They were to pitch their tents with- out its precincts, between Tanis and the sea. They must presently go fortli to the camp, and his \incle sent him word that he was to seek him there in his tent. When he saw the lad helping his daughter to wind the funeral wreaths he smiled, exclaiming : " Only this morn- ing this young lordling longed to be free and a ruler all his life, and now he has entered your service, Kasana. Nay, do not blush, my young friend. And if either your mistress or your imcle can prevail upon you to become ' .le of us, and devote yourself to the noblest toil — that uf warrior — it will be well for you. Took at me I For more than forty years have I wielded the bow, and to this day I rejoice in my calhng. I have to obey, to be sure, but I have also to command, and the thousands that do my bidding are not sheep and beasts, but brave men. Con- sider the matter once more. He would make a splendid chief of the bowmen ; what do you say, Kasana?" " Certainly," replied the lady, and she had it in her mind to say more, but beyond the garden walk the measured tread of approaching troops fell on the ear. The bright blood mounted to her cheeks, her eyes glowed with a. flame which startled Ephraim. and. heedless of her father or her guest, she flew past the pool, across the avenues and flower beds, and up a turf-bank near the wall, to gaze with eager eyes out into the road and on the armed host that presently came past. Joshua marched at its head in full armor. He turned hif5 grave face as he came by the captain's garden, and when he saw Kasana he lowered his battle-axe in friendly greeting. Ephraim had followed with the captain, who had pointed out Joshua, and said : '■ A bright weapon like that would well become you. too. and when the drum is beating and pipe squeaking, while the standards ride high overhead, a man marches as lightly as though he had wings. To-day the manial music is silenced by reason of the dreadful grief that the malignant Hebrew has brought upon us. Joshua, indeed, is of his race ; yet, little as I can overlook that fact, I must confess that he is a thorough i L- 28 JOSHUA, \ I soldier and a model for the younger generation. Only tell him what I think of him in this respect. Now, bid fare- well at once 10 Kasana, and follow the troops ; the little side gate in the wall is open." As he spoke he turned to go back into the house, and Ephraim held out his hand to bid the young woman fare- well. She gave him hers, but instantly withdrew it, saying : " How hot your hands. You are in a fever ! " " Nay, nay," murmured the boy ; but even as he spoke he dropped on his knees, and a cloud came over the suffer- ing lad's soul, hunted as it had been from one emotion to another. Kasana was startled, but ohe at once rt ;overed her pre- sence of mind and proceeded to cool his brow and the top of his head with water out of the adjacent pool. And as she did so she looked anxiously in his face, and never had his likeness to Joshua struck lier so vividly. Yes, the man she loved must have exactly rcncm])led this youth when he himself was a boy. Her heart beat faster, and as she sup- ported his head in her hands she softly kissed him. She thought he was unconscious, but the refreshing moisture had recovered him from his brief swoon, and he felt the touch with a sweet thrill, but kept his eyes shut, and would have lain thus for a lifetime, with his head on her bosom, in the hope that her lips might once more meet his. Instead of kissing him again she called loudly for help. At this he roused himself, gave one more passionate, fervid look into her face, and before she could stop him, tied like a strong man to the garden door, pushed it open and was gone after the host. He caught up the rear, soon over- took the others, and at last, finding himself by the captain's side, he called to his uncle and announced himself by name. At this Joshua, in joy and surprise, held out his arms ; but almost before Ephraim could fall upon his neck he again lost consciousness, and strong soldiers carried the lad int« the tent which the quarter-master had already pitched oa a sandhill by the lake. :irf % yOSHUA. ^ tell ire- ttle and arc- ing : pre- 2 top nd as r had i man icn he t sup- .•shing ,nd he f, shut, ad on le meet r help, fervid ed like --d was over- plain's ■ name, s; but again d int« hed oa CHAPTER V. It was midnight. A fire burned before Joshua's tent and he sat alone bctiide it, gazing sadly and thoughtfully first into the flames and then out into the distance. The lad Ephraim was lying inside the tent on his uncle's camp bed. The leech who accompanied the troops had dressed the youth's wound, and having given him a strengthening draught bade him remain quiet, for he was alarmed at the high fever that had fallen on him. But Ej^hraim found not the rest the physician had ad- vised. The image of Kasana now rose before his imagin- ation and added fire to his already overheated blood. Then his thoughts flew to the advice that he should become a warrior like his uncle ; and it seemed to him reasonable, because it promised him glory and honor, as he would fain persuade himself, though in truth he desired to follow it because it would bring him nearer to her whom his soul longed for. Then again his pride rebelled when he thought of the insult with which she and her father had branded those to whom he belonged by blood and sympathy. He clinched his fist as he remembered the ruined house of his grand- father, whom he had always considered the worthiest of men. Nor had he forgotten his message. Miriam had said it over to Iiim several times, and his clear memory held it word for word ; also at intervals he had repeated it over to himself as he wandered on the lonely way to Tanis. Now he endeavored to do so again, but before he could get to the end, his mind carried him back to thoughts of Kasana. The doctor had ordered Joshua to forbid any talking, so when the patient tried to deliver his message he bade him be silent. Then the soldier smoothed his pillow as gently as a mother might, giive him his medicine, and kissed him on the brow. At last he sat down by the fire in front of the tent, and only rose to give the youth a drink when the stars shoircd him that an hour had passed. =-^-yuS»«;ia^ ! I I I '! 11 : I I r3<^ JOSFIUA. The flames lighted up Joshua's somewhat dark features, and showed them to be those of a man who had faced many dangers, and had vanquished them by stern perse- verance and prudent forethought. His black eyes wore a domineering expression, and his full, tightly-closed mouth gave evidence of a hot temper, but even more of the iron will of a determined man. His broad-shouldered frame leaned against a sheaf of spears set crossing each other in the ground, and when he drew his jjowerful hand through his thick black hair, or stroked his dark beard while his eyes lighted up with wrath, it was plain that his soul was seething, and that he stood on the threshold of some great resolve. As yet the lion rests, but when he springs up his enemies must beware. His soldiers had often compared their bold, strong- willed leader, willi his mane-like hair, to the king of beasts ; and now a^ he shook his fist, and at the same time the muscles of his brown arm swelled as though they would burst the gold bands that surrounded ihem, bright flames flashed from his eyes and he was an unapi)roachable and awesome presence. Out there in the west, whither he turned his gaze, lay the city of the dead and the ruined strangers' quarters. A few hours before, he had led his troops past his father's dismantled house and on through the deserted town, round which the ravens were flying. In ?^,ilence, for he was still on duty, he had passed it by, and it v/as not until they had halted, that quarters might be found for his troops, that he learned the events of the past night from Hornecht, the captain of the archers. He had listened in silence and without moving a muscle or asking one word of further information, and meanwhile the soldiers had i)itched their tents ; but scarcely had he gone to rest wlicn a lame girl, in spite of the threats of the watch, forced her way in and besought him, in the name of Eliab, one of the oldest slaves of his house, whose granddaughter she was, to go with her to the old man. He had been left behind, as feebleness and ill-health prevented his wandering, and directly aflcr the de])arture of ins people he and his wife had been brought on an ass to the little cottage by the harbor which had been given to the ,o)v' servant by his generous master. i yos/ir I. 3* ires, aced erse- vvore losed )re of iered each hand beard .at his old of ■vemies strong- Dcasts ; me the ' would ; flames ble and aze, lay tcrs. A father's i, round :d it by, s might s of the archers. Li muscle lean while y had he lits of the he name , whose non. He )re vented c of his ss to the en to the The girl, too, had been left to look after the infirm couple, and now the heart of the old slave was longing to see once more the lirst-born of his lord, vv-hom us a child he had carried in his arms. He had bidden the girl tell the captain that his father had promised that he, Joshua, would leave the Egyptians and follow liis people. The people of Ephraim. ye;!, the wiiolc race, had heard the news with great rejoicing. The grandfather would give him more news, for slie herself had been nearly out <if her mind with trouble and anxiety. He would deserve the richest blessings if he would only go with her. Thj warrior perceived from the first that he must lulfil this wish, but he had postponed the visit to the old man until the next morning. The messenger, though in haste, managed to i::l"oini him of several things that she had seen or heard of from others. At last she was gone. He made up the fire, and as long as the flames blazed brightly he looked with a dark and thoughtful gaze toward the west. It was not till they had consumed the fuel, whose fiame flickered feeble and blue over the charred wood, that he fixed his eyes on the embers and the flying si)arks, and the longer he did so the deeper and more insurmountable did he feel the discord in his soul, which only yesterday had been set on a single glorious man. For a year and a half he had been far from home fighting against Libyan rebels, and for fully ten months he had not heard a word from his people. A few weeks since he had been ordered home ; his heart beat with joy and hopeful- ness, and he, a man of thirtv, had felt a bov aurain as he drew nearer and nearer to Tanis, the city of Rameses, famed for its obelisks. In a few hours he would once more behold his beloved and worthy father, who had only after deep consideration and discussion with his mother — now long since de])arled in peace — allowed him to follow his own inclinations and devote himself to military service and Pharaoh's army. This very day he had hoped t(^ siiri^risc lum with the news that he had been promoted above other and older captains of Egyptian race. TIiu neglect which Nun had feared for his son had, through the power of his ])resence, his valor, and, as he modestly added, his good luck, been turned to advance- i 32 JOSHUA. ment ; and yet he had not ceased to be a Hebrew. When he had felt the need of acknowledging a god wit/i sacrifice and prayer, he had worshiped Set, into whose sanctuary his own father had led him as a child, and whom, at that time, all the Semitic race in Goshen had worshijjed. For him, however, there was another god, and this was not the Ood of hih fathers, but the god who was confessed by all those Egyptir.ns who had received initiation, though he remained hidden from the common people, who were not able to comprehend him. It was not only the adepts that knew him, but also most of those who were placed in the service of the state and in the army — whether they were ministers of the divinity or not. Every one, however, knew what was meant when they spoke simply of " The God," the '-Sum of All," the " Creator of Himself," or of the '' Great Oiie." Hymns praised him, ej)itai)hs which every one could read spoke of him, the only god, who revealed himself in the world, who was co-cxisleni and co-equal with the universe, immanent in all creation, not merely as life exists in the body of man, but as being hin> self the sum total of created things, the miverse itself in its perennial growth, decay and resurrection, himself obeying ihe laws he had laid down. His essence, dwelling in every part of himself, dwelt likewise in man ; and. look where he might, a mortal could perceive the presence and action of the One. Without him nothing could be con- ceived of, and thus he was one — like the God of his fathers. Without him nothing could come into being nor any event happen on earth. Thus, like the God of Israel, he was almighty. Joshua had long been wont to think of these gods as essentially the same, and differing only in name. He who worshiped the one he deemed was the servant of the other ; and so the captain of the host could, with a clear conscience, have stood before his parent and have told him that he had been as faithful to the God of his people as he had been, as a warrior, in the service of the king. And there was something else which had made his heart beat faster and more gladly as he saw from afar the pylons and obelisks of Tanis, for in his endless marches across the silent desert and in many a lonely camp-tent the image had haunted his vision of a maiden of his own people, whom, he had first known as a strange child stirred by J m yos/iUA. 33 ifice uaiy that For )t the )y all gh he i not s that in the were vever, " The ' or of which , who ii and )n, not g him^ self in limself .veiling . look ce and e con- athers. event he was these name, ant of with a d have of his of the lis heart pylons across le image Ipeople, Irred by wondrous thoughts, and whom he had seen agam as a woman grown, unai)pr()achable in her dignity and severe beauty, not long before he liad last led his liost to the Libyan war. SJie had come from Succolh to Tanis to his mother's burial ; her image had been deeply stamped on his heart, and his— lie dared to hojie — on hers. She had non- become a prophetess, liearing the voice of ( lod. While other daughters of Israel were strictly secluded, siie had asserted her freedom, even among men and in si)ile of jier hatred for the I"-gyptians, and for his j.lace among them, she had not concealed from Joshua tiiat to part from Iiim was grief, and that she would never cease to think of him, His wife, when be should wed, must be as strong antl grave as himself, and Miriam was both, and cast an .ihcr and brighter image, of which he once had loved to dream, quite into the shade. He was fond of children, and a sweeter child than Kasana he had never seen, eitlier in Kgypt or in distant lands. The symi)alhy with which this fair daughter of his comrade-in-arms had watched his acliievements and his fortunes, and the modest, tender affection whicli the much- courted youngs widow had since shown him, had brought him n.ach joy in times of peace. Before her marriage he had thought of her as growing up to be his wife ; but her union with another and her father's repeated declarations that he would never give his daughter to wife to a foreigner, had wounded his pride and cooled his ardor. Then he had met Miriam, and she had inspired him with a fervent desire to call her his own. And yet, though as he marched homeward the thought of seeing Kasana once more had been pleasing to him, he was well content that lie no longer wished to marry her, for it must have led to much vexation. The Egyptians and Hebrews alike deemed it an abomina- tion to eat at each other's table, or to use the same seats or knives, and though as a fellow soldier he was accepted as one of themselves, and had often heard the young widow's father speak kindly of his people, still " the strangers " were hateful in the sight of Hornecht and his household. In Miriam he had found the noblest helpmate. Would that Kasana might make another happy. Henceforth she could be no more to him than a delightful child, from whom we look for nothing but the pleasure of her sweet presence. 34 JOSHUA. I: I I : I He had learned to ask nothing of her beyond a glad smile, always at his service. Of Miriam he demanded herself, in all her lofty beauty, for he had long enough endured the loneliness of a camp life, and now that no mother's arms were open to the home-comer, he felt the imptiness of his single state. He longed once more to feel glad in times of peace, when he laid down his arms after perils and privations of every kind. It was his duty to take a wife home to dwell under his fiither's roof, and to provide that the noble race of which he was the only male descendant should not die out. Ephraim Vv^as only his sister's son. His heart uplifted with such glad thoughts as these, he had come back to Tanis, and had almost reached the goal of his holies and wislr s, when be*liokl ! there lay before him, as it were, a field of corn destroyed by hail and swai ms of locusts. And, as though in mockery, fate brougliL him first to what had been the home of his fathers. Where the house had once stood in which he had grown up, and fur which his heart had longed, there lay a dust-heap of ruins. Where those near and dear to him had proudly watched him depart, beggars were searching for booty in the rubbish. Kasana's lather was the first to hold out a hand to him in Tanis, and instead f^f a glance of kindly welcome he had from him nothing but a tale of woe that had cut him to ihe heart. He had dreamed of fetching home a wife, and the house in which she should have been mistress was level with the earth. The father whose blessing he craved, and who was to have rejoiced over his jjromolion, was by this time far away, and tlie foe henceforth of the sovereign to whom he himself owed his elevation. It had been a proud thought that, in sj^ite of his birth, he had risen to power and dignity, and that now, as the leader of a great army, he might indeed show of what great deeds he was capable. There was no lack of schemes in his fertile brain, plans which, if they nad been ratified by the authorities, might have led to good issues ; and now he was in a position to carry them out at his own pleasure, and he himself the motive i^ower instead of the tool. All this had roused a delightlul exultation in his breast, and had lent wings to his feet on the homeward march ; and no'w, when he had reached the longed-for goal, was to turn '4 josirvA. 31 mile, r?o\f, ill red ihor's tiness lad in perils lake a rovide ■ male nly bis ese, he he goal before sNvaims to what )use had rhich his Where 11 depart, to him he had ini to ihe , and the i^;velwith and who this time to whom his birth, ow, as the what great chemes in ratified by and now n pleasure, "tool. All »reast, and arch ; and as to turn back, to become the comrade of shcplierds and masons ? By birth, indeed, he belonged to them (and how hard a fortune (Hd that ai this moment seem), though there was no denying tiiat they were now as aUen to him as the Libyans against whom he had taken the field. On almost every p(;int for which he cared he had nothing whatever in common with them. To his father's question as to whether he had returned still a IlL'brew, he had believed he might truly answer, yes ; but now he felt that it would be against liis will, a less than half-hearted adhesion. Mis soul clung to the standards under which he had marchi d to battle, and which he now might himself lead to victory. Was it jjossiblc to tear himself from them, and forfeit all he had won bv his own merit? But had he not heard from the grandchild (jf his old slave, I'Llial), that his people cxjiccted him to quit the army and follow them? \. incsscnf^cr must ere louLr arriw from his father — and among the Ilcbrev.'S a son might not resist a jKircnt's com- ma n^l. \'el ihere was another to whom he owed strict obedience — riiaraoh, to wiioni he had s^\■orn that he would serve him faithfully and follow his cail without hesitation or reflection through fire and water, by night or day. How many a time hid he stigmatized a soldier who should go over to the foe or rebel against the orders of his chief as a wretch devoid of honor, and many a one who had deserted from his standard had perished shamefully on the gallows under his own eye. And should he now commit the crime for which ho had scorned others or done them to death. Ho was known for his swil't decisiveness throughout the arm\', for even in the greatest straits he could arrive at the rigiit detornunationand reduce it to action ; but in this dark and lonely hour he seemed to himself as a bending reed, as helj^iess as a deserted orphan. A gnawing rage against himself possessed him wholly, and when he i)rescntly thrust his spearhead into the fire, so that the glowing brands fell in and the sparks danced brigl:tly up into the night, it was fury at his own vacillating mi: ^ ':hat spurred his hand. If ij events of the i)ast night had called him to the manly task of revenge, all hesitation and doubt would have vanished, and his father's call would have determined him to act ; but who had here been the victims of ill-usage? Be- II! 3« JOSHUA, I ! I 'I ; yond doubt the Kgyplians, who had hccn bereft by Moses' curse of thousands of j)re(ious Hves, while his peojjlc had escaped their veiigeauce by llighl. To find the home of his fathers dcslrcjyed by the J'^gypliaus had, indeed, roused his wrath; but he saw no just eausc for a bloody revenge wiu-n he relU-ctrd on the unutterable woe whi( h had come \\\i()\\ riiaraoh ;'.nd his subjects through ihe Hebrews. No. ][e luid no revenge lo lake; he could only look Upon himself as one who sees his father ;ind mother in danger of their lives, and knows that he cannot save both, but if he risks his own life to rescue one the other n\ust certainly ]K'rish. Jf he obeyed tlie call of his i)eople lionor was lost — that honor which he had kept as bright as the brass of his liclmet — and with it all he most hoped for in life; if he remained faithful to Tharaoh he was betray- ing his own blood, liis father's curse would darken ihe liglU. of all his days, and he must renounce all his fairest dreams for the future ; for IMiriam was a true daughter of lier race, and woe to him if her lofty soul could hate as bitterly as it could fervently love. Her image rose before his mind's eye, tall and beautiful, but with a dark look and warning mien, as he sat gazing across the dying I'lre out into the night; and his manly pride surged up, aiul it seemed to him a mean thing to throw away everything tliat is dear to the warrior's heart for fear of a woman's wr-ith and blame. " No, no," he murmured to himself, and the scale which held duty, and love, and filial obedience, and the ties of blood, suddenly kicked the beam. He was what he was — the captain often thousand in the king's army. He had sworn allegiance to him and to none other. His ijeojjle ! Let them run away if ♦hey chose from the Egyptians' yoke ! He, Joshua, scorned llight. Bondage had lain heavy on him ; but as for him, the mightiest in the land had treated him as their equal and held him worthy of honor. To repay their goodwill with treason and desertion went against him, and with a deep sigh lie started to his feet, feeling as though he had chosen righ*'- A woman and a weak desire for love to fill his heart should never lead him to be false to grave duty and the highest aims of his exist- ence. /' I remain," cried a loud voice in his breast. " My father is wise and kind, and when he hears my reasons he yosi/ci. 37 y look her in ; \H)lh, r must ; honor L as ihc pcd i"of \)cu-ay- ,hc liglU drcan^s ^or race, crly i^^ i^ jcautil'id, It ga/ing is manly thing 10 or's heart :ale ^vhich l^,e ties of at \vi ^vas He had is ijeo\)le I ans' yoke 1 heavy on ad treated lonor. '1 o rtion went his feet, jman and a er lead him f his exist- ast. " My reasons he .0 will approve them, and instead of cursing he will bless me. 1 will write to him, and the boy that Miriam sent to me 3liall be my messenger.'' Aci ■ from the tent made him start ; looking at the stars he found he had neglected his duty toward the sick youth, and went (piickly to his bedside. Kphraim was silling uj) expecting him, and cried to him : " I have been wanting you a long time. .So much has passed through my mind, and, above all, the message from Miriam. Till I have delivered it I shall not find any rest, so hear me now."' Joshua nodded to him, and after the youth had taken the healing draught that he handed him, be began : "Miriam, the daughter of Amram and Jocliebed, sends greeting to ihe son of Xiin, of the tribe of Mphraim. Joshua, or the Helper, is thy name, and the Lord thy (lod hath chosen thee to be the helper of his people. And hence- forth thou shall be called Joshua,* the Holpen of Jehovah. For the Clod of her fathers, who is the (lod of thy fiithers also, hath sjjoken by Miriam, His handmaid, commanding ihee to be the shield and sword of thy people. In Him is all power, and His promise is to strengthen thine arm that He may smite the enemy." The lad began in a low tone, but his voice gradually grew stronger, and the last words rang out loud and solemn in the silence of the night. Thus had Miriam si)okcn to him, and had laid her hands on liis head and looked earnestly into his eyes with her own, which were as black as the night, and as Kphraim repeated them he had felt as though some secret power compelled him to cry them aloud to Joshua, as he had heard them from the mouth of the j^rophetess. 'i'hen he breathed a sigh of relief, turned his face to the white canvas wall of the tent, and said quictlv : "Now I will sleep." But Joshua laid his hand on iiis shoulder and said in commanding tones : ".Say it again." The lad did h.is bidding, but this time he repeated the words uiiheedingly and in a low tone to himself. Then he said imploringly : " Leave me to rest," put his hand under his cheek and shut his eyes. • More Correctly Jehoshua. "1 38 yosnuA. !l i i'liii Joshua let him have his own way. He gently laid a fresh wet bandage over his burning head, put out the Hght and cast more logs on the dying fire outside ; but the keen, resolute man did it all as in a dream. At last he sat down, resting his elbows on his knees and his head on his hand, with his eyes fixed on vacancy or gazing at the flames. AVho was this God who called him through Miriam to be, by His aid, the sword and shield of liis jieople. He was to bear a new name, and to the Egyptians the name was the man. " Honor to the name of Pharaoh ! " not " to Pharaoh," was written in every inscription and document ; and if henceforth he was to l)e called Joshua, this involved a command to cast the old man off and to become a new man. This, which Miriam had declared lo him as the will of the God of his fathers, was nothing less than a bidding to cease to be an Egyptian, as his life had made him, and become a Hebrew again, as he had been as a boy. How could he learn to act and fj'^l as a Hebrew ? And Miriam's message required him to go back to his own tribe. The God of his nation, through her, bid him to do ".vhat his father expected of him. Instead of the Egyptian host, which he must make haste to forget, hence- forth he should lead the sons of Israel when they went forth to battle ; this was the meaning of her words ; and when thathipjli-souled maiden and prophetess declared that it was God Himself who spoke by her mouth, it was no vain boast \ she was certainly obeying the voice of the Most High. And now the image of the Woman whom he had dared to love appeared to him as unapproachably- sublime ; many things which he had heard in his childhood of the God of Abraham and His promises, recurred to his mind ; and the scale which till now had been the heavier gradually rose. What had but just now seemed firmly settled was no longer sure, and once more he stood face to face with the fearful abyss which he fancied he had over- leaped. How loud and mighty was the call he had heard ! The sound in his ears disturbed his clearness and peace of mind. Instead of calmly weighing the matter as he had done before, memories of his boyhood, which he had fancied long since buried, lifted up their voices, and disconnected flashes of thought confused his brain. JOSHUA. 39 L fresh It and keen, down, hand, es. to be, ms the raoh ! " 3n and l^osliua, and to ared to ing less life had been as c to his bid him I of the t, hence- ley went is ; and ired that : was no of the ,vhom he oachabljr hildhood ed to his heavier sd firmly )d face to lad over- H ! The peace of IS he had id fancied :onnected Sometimes he felt prompted to turn \\\ prayer to the God who called him, but as often as he made i!ic attempt he remembered the oath he must break, ai.d tlic vast host he must leave behind him to become the leader, no more of a well-trained, brave, obedient troop of brothers in arms, but of a miserable horde of cowardly serfs, and wild, obstinate shej)herds accustomed to the rule of oi)pression. It was three hours past midnight. The men on guard had been relieved, and he began to think of giving himself a few hours' rest. He would think the matter out again by daylight with his wonted rational decisiveness, which no\v he felt he could not attain to. But as he entered the tent, and Ephraim's steady breathing fell on his ear, in fancy he heard again the lad's solemn delivery of his mes- sage. It startled him, and he was about to re])eat the words to himself when he heard a tumult among the out- posts, and a vehement dispute broke the stillness of the night. The interruinion was welcome. He hurried out to where the guards were ])osted. CHAriKR VI. HoGLAH, the granddaughter of the old slave Eliab, had come to entreat Joshua to go with her forthwith to see her grandfather, whose strength had suddenly failed liim, and whO; feeling death near at hand, could not die without Feeing him and blessing him once moie. So tiie captain bade her wait, and after assuring himself that Ephraim slept peacefully, he charged a man he could trust :o keep watch over the lad, and went with Hoglah. As she led the way she carried a small lantern, and when the light fell on the girl's face and figure, he saw how ill- favored she was, for slave's toil had bent the ])oor child's back before its time. Her voice had the rough tones which a woman's tongue often acquires when her stiength is too unsparingly taxed ; but all she said was loving and kind. Joshua forgot her aj>j)earancc as she told him that she had a lover among the men who had gone forth, but that she had remained behind with her grand])arcnts, for she could not bring herself to leave the old folks alone ; 40 yosrnr,i. that as she was not fair to look upon, no man had coveted her as his wife till Asser had conic, and he did not look to apjiearanccs, because lie was hardworking, as she herself was, and had expected that she would lielp to save his earnings. 1 le would have been willing to stay behind with her, but iiis father had <:oniniandcd him to set out with him ; so he had no choice, but must obey and part from lier forever. The tale was simply told, and in a harsh accent, but it struck to the heart of the man who, for his part, meant to go his own way in opposition to his father. As they presently came in sight of the harbor, and Joshua looked d(^wn on the quays and the huge fortified storehouses, built by the hands of his own people, he thought once more of the gangs of ragged laborers whom he had so often seen cringing before the Egyptian overseer, or, again, fighting madly among themselves. He had marked, too, that they did not hesitate to lie and cheat in order to escape their toil, and how hard it was to compel them to obey and do their duty ! The more odious objects among these hapless hundreds rose clearly l.)efore his mind ; and the thought that perhaps his fate in the future might be to lead such a wretched crcv.' came over him as a disgrace which the humblest of his subalterns, the captain of fifty, would fain be spared. There were, of course, among the mercenaries of Pharaoh's armies many Hebrews who had won a reputation for courage and endurance, but diey were all the sons of owners of herds, or of men who had been shepherds. The toiling multitudes whose clay hovels could be overturned with a kick formed the greater mass of those to whom he was bidden to return. Firmly resolved to remain faithful to the oath which bound him to the standard of the Egyptian host, and yet stirred to the dejUhs of his soul, he entered the slave's hut, and his vcxaiii.Mi was increased when he found the old man sitting up and mixing some wine and water with his own hand. So he had been brought away frcm his nephew's Inxlside en a false pretense, and deprived of his own night's rest that a slave, who, in his eyes, was scarcely a man at all, should have his way. Here he himself was the victim of a trick of that cunning selfishness which, in the Egyptians' eyes, was the reproach of his people, and which. yosi/CA. 41 ) voted 00k to lieiselt Lve his ,d with it with rt from , but it eaiit to or, and fortified )plc, he rs whom overseer, He had cheat in D compel hundreds X perhaps wretched niblcst of spared. Pharaoh's ,at;on for sons of Ids. The erturned whom he Lth which \, and yet /c's hut, the old .r with his frcm his red of his IS j-cavcely ImseU" was [ich, in the md which, ,^ indeed, did not attract hinr to them. Hut the wrath of the clear-sighted a;"id upright man was soon a])i)eascd as he saw the girl's unfeigned dehi^ht at her grandfather's rapid recovery ; and he then learned from the aged wife that Hoglah had hardly set out on her {|ucst when they remem- bered that they liad some wnie in the house, and after the first draught her husband got belter and belter, though she had before thought he had one foot already in tlic grave. Now he was mixing some more of the ])lessed gift to strengthen himself with a draught of it every now and then. Here the old man himself broke in, and said that lie owed this and iiuich thai was better to the goodness of Nun, Joshua's lather ; for besides this hut and wine and meal for bread, he had given him a milch cow and likewise an ass, on wliich he could ride out and take the air, and he had left him iiis granddaughter and some silver, so that he could look forward with contentment to their end, all the more so as they had a i)atch of land behind the house, which Hoglah would sow with radishes, onions and leeks for their i)olUigc. i'ut best of all was the written deed which made them and the girl free forever. Aye, Nun was a true lord and father to his people ; and his good gifts had brought with them the blessing of the j\Iost High, for immediately afier llie dei)arturc of tiie Hebrews, by the help of Asser, Hoglah's betrothed, he and his wife had been conveyed hither without any demur or diflRculty. " We old folks."' the old woman added, "will die heic But Asser has promised Hogiah to come back for her when she has done her duty to her parents to the very last." And turning to the girl she said in an encouraging tone : . I " And it cannot be for much longer ^.ow." At this iloglali bog.m to wipe her eyes with the skirt of -^her blue gown, aiul cried: " Long, long may it be I [ &-.*am young. 1 can wait." Joshua heard these worus, and it seemed to him as though the poor, ill-favored, deserted girl was giving him a lesson. He had let the old folks talk on, but his time v>ms precious, and he now asked whether it was for any special cause that Eliab had sent for him. "I could not help sending," was the answer, "and not only to case the longing of \\\y old heart, but because my lord N'.m had bidden me to do so. 4* JOSHUA. \\ 11 " drcat and noble is thy manhood, and now art thou become tlie hope of Israel ! Thy father, too, hath jjromised the men and women of his house that after his death thou shalt be their lord and their head. His s])eec]i was full of tliy glory, and great was the rejoicing wheii he declared that thou wouldst follow the de])arling tribes. And 1 am he whom my lord vouchsafed to command that, if thou shoiddsl return before his messenger could leach thee, I was to say that Nun. thy father, awaited his son. By sunrise, or at latest b\' midday, tliy jieople sludl stay to rest by .Succolh Me would hide a writing in the hollow sycamore before liie house of Aniinachd .which should tell thee whither next tliey take their way. }Iis blessing and the blessing of oiii- (loil be with thee in the M'ay ! " As the old man pronounced the last words Joshua bent his head, as thougli an invisible hand were in\iting him to kneel. Then he thanked the old man, and asked in a subdued voice whether ;'!1 had bce;i willing to obey the call to quit house and home. The old woman clasped her hands exclaiming: "No, no, my l(»rd ; by no means. \\ hat a wailing and weeping there was l)ef(U-c they dei)arted ! Many lebelled, others escaped or sought some hole or corner in which to hide. Hut in vain. In the house of our neighbor, Deuel — you know him — his young wife had been lately brought to bed with a bt-y, her fnst-])or!i. How could the poor creature set forth to wander? At fust she we])t bitterly, and her husband blasphemed ; but there was no help for it. She and her infant were laid in a cart, and as things went for- ward they got over it, he and she both, like all the rest; even Phincas, who cre])t into a pigeon-house with his wife and five children, and even old crippled Graveyard Keziah — you remember her, Adonai — she had seen her father and mother die, her husband, and then five well-grown sons ; everything the Lord had given her to love, and had laid them one after another in our graveyard ; and every morning and evening she would go to the resting i)lace, and as she sat there on a log of wood which she had rolled close to the tombstone her lips would always be moving ; but what she muttered was not prayer ; no — I have listened to her many a time when she did not heed me — no ; she talked with the dead as if they could hear her in the tomb, and could understand her speech like those L< W( Wo yosin'A. 43 ut thou romised ath thou IS full of declared aul 1 am , if thou h ihee, I son. By 11 slay to lie hollow ;hould tell ;ssing and 1" )shua bent ing him to Lskcd in a Dcy the call ,g: "No, nd weeping lied, others ch to hide, ^euel— you light to bed )or creature rly, and her for it. She gs went for- all the rest ; vith his wife yard Keziah r father and ^rown sons ; nd had laid and every .sting place, |ich she had always be layer; no— I iid not heed mid hear her h like those who live in <hc h'ght of the sun. She is nigh upon three- score ycais old, and for three limes seven years she has been known to tlie folk about as Graveyard Ivc/.iah. It was a senseless way she had, but for that very reason prrhaps it was doubly liard to her to give it up; and she would not go, but liid away behind the slinibs. When Abiczer, the head of the house, dragged lier forth, her wailing was enough to make your heart aclie. Dut wiien it came to the last she plucked uj) coiirage and could not bear to stay behind any more than tlie rest." "What had come over the i)0()r wretches? What possessed them ? " Joshua here broke in, interrupting the old womaii's flow of words ; for liis fancy again i)ictured the people tluit he ouglit to, nay, that he must, lead, as surely as he held his jatlior's blessing of price above al/ else; and he saw them in all tlieir misery. The old woman started, and, fearing lest she might have angered the first-born son of her master, this proud and lordly Warrior, she stammered out : " What possessed them, my lord ? Aye, well — 1 am but a ])oor, simple slave-woman ; but indeed, my lord, if you had but seen them also " "Well, what then?" cried the soldier roughly and iminitiently : for now, for ihe first time in his life, he found himself compelled to act against his inclinations and con- victions. f At this the old man tried to come to his wife's rescue, Saying timidly : " Nay, my lord, tongue cannot tell of it nor the under- standing conceive of it. It came ujjon Israel from the Lord, and even if I could describe how mightily He Worked in the souls of the people " : ''Try," said Joshua, " but my time is short. Then they "(irere forced to dei)art? It was against their will that they took up their staff? That they have followed Moses and Aaron for some time past, as sheep follow the shepherd, is known even to the Egyptians. And have those men, who brought down the pestilence on so many innocent beings, Worked a miracle to blind the eyes of you and your wife Here?" The olJ man lifted supplicating hands to the warrior, <Mid replied, much troubled, in a tone of humble entreaty : *0h, my lord, you are the first-born son of my master, the I li 44 JOSHUA. greatest and noblest of his house, and if you will you can tread me in the dust like a beetle ; and yet will I lift up my voice and say to you they have told you falsely. You have been among strangers all this year, while mighty signs have been wrought ui)on us. You were far from Zoan* as I have heard when the people went forth. For any son of our race who had beheld this thing would sooner that his tongue should wither in his mouth than laugh to srorn the mighty things which the Lord has vouchsafed to us to behold. If you had i)aticnce, indeed, and could grant me to tell the story " " Sj)cak," cried Joshua, amazed at the old man's fervor ; and h!lial:> thanked liim with a glowing look, and cried : "Ah ! would that Aaron, or Eleazar, or my lord Nun, your father, were here; or that the Most High would grant me the gift of their speech ! But as it is, well. And, indeed, meseems as though I saw and heard it all, as tliough it were all happening again ; and yet how may I tell it? But by God's help I will try." He paused, and as Joshua saw that the old man's lips and hands trembled, he himself reached him the cup, and the old man thankfully emptied it to the bottom. Then he began with half-closed eyes, and his wrinkled features grew more keenly eager as he proceeded with his tale : " What befell after that it became known what command had come to the people my wife has already told you ; and we, too, were among those who lost heart and mur- mured. ]3ut last night we all who were of the house of Nun were bidden to the feast — even the shei)herds and the slaves and the poor — and tliere we ate of roast lamb and fresh unleavened bread, and had plenty of wine, more than usual at the harvest festival which begins on that night, and which you yourself have often witnessed as a boy. There we sat and enjoyed ourselves, and my lord, your fatlicr, spoke words of encouragement and told us of the Clod of our fathers and of the great things He had done for his i)cople. Now, said he, it was the Lord's will that we should set forth and depart out of this land, where we have borne contempt and bondage. This was no such sacrifice as that for which Abraham had sliarpened his knife to shed the blood of his son Isaac withal, at the bid- • The I lebrew name for Tanis. JOSHUA. 45 [ you can lift up my You have signs have oan* as I any son of er that his ) sroin the d to us to i grant me ,n's fervor ; id cried : ^ lord Nun, licrh would it is, well, icard it all, i how may 1 1 man's lips he cup, and .torn. Then vied features his tale : lat command y told you ; art and mur- the house of e\)herds and ,f roast lamh ,f wine, more gins on that itnessed as a j-id my lord, ,nd told us of ings He had he Lord's will lis laml, where s was no such ,harpcned his .al, at the bid- ding of the Most High, although it would fall hardly on us to leave a lujinc grown dear to us, and many an old custom. Nay, it would at last bring much happiness on us all. I'or, cried he, we we-rc not to wander forth into the unknown, but toward a lordly land which God himself had set before us. He had i)romised us a new home instead of this land of bondage, where we should dwell as free men on fruitful meadowr., and fuie rich pastures where a man and his household miglil be fed and their hearts made glad. Just as a man nuisi work hard to earn his wage, so were we to endure a brief space of privation and sorrow to earn that beautiful new homo for ourselves and our children, as the Lord had promised. A land of God it must surely be, since it was the gift of the Most High. " 'i'hus he spoke, and thus he blessed us all; and pro- mised that you, too, would shake the dust from off your feet and join yourself to the i)eople, and fight for them with a strong arm. as an experienced warrior and an obedient son. " Hereupon we all shouted for joy, and when we were all gathered in the markct-])lace and found that all the bondsmen had been able to escape from the overseers our courage rose. Then came Aaron into our midst and stood upon the salesman's bcnch^ and all that my lord Nun had spoken at the feast w^i now heard from his lips, and the words he spoke sounded now like rolling thunder and now like the sweet tones of the lute : and we all knew that it Was the Lord our God who spoke by him, for he touched the hearts even of the rebellious, so that they murmured and complained no more. And when at last he proclaimed to the multitude that no erring man, but the Lord God Himself, would be our Captain ; when he described the beauty of the promised land, whose gates he would open before us. and where we should dwell as free and happy men, released from all bondage, owing no obedience to any but to the God of our fathers and those whom we may choose for our leaders, it was as though every man there was drunk with new wine, and as if the way that lay be- fore them, instead of a barren track across the desert into the unknown, led to a great feast spread for them by the Most High Himself. Nay, and even those who had not heard Aaron's words were likewise filled with marvel- ous confidence, and men and women were all more cheer- ' ^ 'I 46 JOSHUA, ful and noisy than their wont at the harvest feast, for all hearts overflowed with pure thankfulness. It even seized the old folks. Old Elishama, the father of Nun, who is a;i hundred years old, and, as you know, has long sat bent and silent in his seat, rose up with a light in his eyes and spoke f;ery words. The spirit of the Lord had come upon him as u])on us all. *' I felt myself quite young again in body and soul ; and as I passed by the carts which were made ready for their departing I saw Elisheba with her babe in a litter, and she looked as happy as on the day of her marriage, and pressed her infant to her heart and blessed his lot in growing up in the i^romised land and free. And her husband, Deuel, who had blasphemed the loudest, swung his staff and kissed his wife and child with tears of joy in his eyes, and shouted for joy like a vintager at the pressing, when jars and wine skins are too small to hold the blessing. The old woman, too, Grave^ ard Keziali, who had torn herself away fioni the tombs of her race, sat with other feeble folk in a char- iot, and waved her veil and joined in the hymn of praise which l^lkanah and Abiasaph, the sons of Korah, had begun. And thus they set forth. We who were left behind fell into each otlier's arms, and knew not whether the tears we shed flowed from our eyes for grief or for overjoy at seeing the multitude of those we loved so ghu: and full of hope. Thus it came to y)ass. " Such torches were carried in front of the multitude. seeming to light it up more brightly tlum the great blaze o; lamps which the Egyptians light t:]) at the gates of tlu temple to Ncith ; and it was not till they were swallowed v.i in the darkness tliat we set forth, so as not to keep Asser tfi< lo.ig behind the rest. As we made our way tlirough tlie night, the streets were full of the mourning cry of theciti zens, but we sang softly the hymn of the sons of Korah and great joy and ])eace fell upon us, for we knew that tlii Lord our God would kee[) and lead His peojile." Here the old man ceased, but his wife and the girl, whc had hearkened to him with eager eyes, drew closer to e;ic! other, and without any word between them they boil together began the hymn of praise, and the old woman'- thin voice mingled with pathetic fervor with the hai.'^i tones of the girl, ennobled as they were with lofty enthU' siasm. si el JOSHUA. 47 sast, for all even seized n, who is avi sat bent and ;s and spoke z npon him id soul ; and ady for then- ittcr, and she :, and pressed ^rowing up ''^ d, Deuel, who md kissed his , and shouted 'jars and wine ic old woman. ,clf away fioni folk in a chai- lymn of praise ,f Rorah, had who were leti •w not whether for grief or for loved so glac the multitude'. c great blaze o: c gates of dK vf; swallowed v-l . keep Asser toe ay through tlu- r cry of theciti sons of Korah c knew that tbA .ople." Ind the girl, wbc w closer to eaci Ihem they boil be old womai- with the haisi- ith lofty enthU' Joshua felt thai it would be wicked to break in on this overflow of full hearts, but the old man presently bade them cease and looked up at his master's first-born son with anxious inquiry in his grave features. Mad Joshua understood? Had he made it plain to this warrior wlio served IMia- raoh how that the Lord God Himself had ruled the souls of His people at their departing ? Was he so fallen away from his own nation and their God, so led away by the i'^gyptians, that lie W(nild dare to defy the wishes and commands of his own f'lther ? Was he, in whom they had set the highest hopes, a deserter and lost to his own people ? 7'o these ([uestions he miglU have no answer in words; but when Joshua took his lioiiiy old hand between his own, and shook it as that of a friend when he bade him farewell, his eyes glistening with moisture, and murmured, *' You shall hear of me ! " he felt that this was enougli, and overcome by vehement joy he kissed the soldier's arm and clothing again and again. CHAPTER Vn. Joshua returned to his tent witii a bowed head. The •discord in his soul was resolved. He knew now what burthen he must take up. His father called him and he must obey. And the God of his people I As he listened to the old man's tale all he had heard of that God ir his ■childhood now reawakened in his soul, and he knew now that He was another than Set, the god of the Asiatics in lower Egypt; another than the "One," the "Sum of All," of the adepts. The prayer he had been wont lo say on going to rest, the story of the Creation which he had never been weary of hearing, because it so plainly showed how everything which existed in heaven and on €arth had gradually come into being till man came to take possession of it and to enjoy it all ; the history of father Abraham, of Isaac and Jacob, Esau and his own forefather Joseph — how gladly had he hearkened to all this as it was told him by the gentle mother who had borne him, by his ' i ■ J 48 JOSHUA, nurse, and his grandfather Elishama ; and yet he seemed long since to have forgotten it. But under his old slave's humble roof he could have repeated the tale word for word, and he now knew of a surety that there was indeed one God, invisible, almighty, who had chosen Israel to be 11 is own people^ and had promised to make them a great nation. That which the I'lgyptian priesthood kept secret as the greatest mystery was the common ])osscssion of his people ; every beggar, every slave, might lift his hands in prayer to the one invisible Ood who had revealed Himself to Abraham and promised him great things. Over-wise heads among the Egyptians, who had divined His exist- tence, had overlaid His essence with the monstrous births of their own imaginings and their own thoughts, and had shrouded Him in a thick veil, and hidden Him from the multitude. It was only among His chosen peoi)k' thai He lived and shewed forth His jjower in its mighty and awful greatness. This God was not nature, though the initiated in the temples confounded them ; no, the God of his fathers was enthroned on high, above all created things and the visible universe, above man, His last and most ])eifect work, created in His own image ; and all creatures were subject to His will. He, the King of Kings, ruled all that had life with just severity ; and although He hid himself from the sight of man who was His image, and was beyond man's apprehension, yet was He a living, thinking, and active Being even as men were, save that His term of life was eternity, His mind was omniscience. His realm was infinity. And this God had instituted Himself^the leader of His people. There was no captain who could dare to defy His power. If Miriam wjre not deceived by tlie Spirit of prophecy, and if He had indeed called Joshua to be His sword, how could he resist, or what higher place could he fill on earth ? And His people ; the rabble crowd of whom he had thought with scorn, how transfigured they seemed by the power of the Most High now that he had heard old Eliab's tale ! Now he only longed to lead them ; and on his way back to the camp he stayed his steps on a sandy knoll, from whence he could see the limitk s waters gleaming under the lamps of heaven, and for the first time for many yosiirA 49 seemed d slave's "or word, ;)nc Clod, His own It nation, -t as the s people .; ill prayer imself to L)ver-\vise His exist- ous births ^, and had 1 from the le that He and awful ited in the "athers was the visible ifcct work, tcre subject at had life from the ond man's and active of life was realm was ader of His la re to defy lie Spirit of a to be His :c could he om he had ■mod by the i old Eliab's on his way knoll, irom ing under for many long years uplifted his arms and eyes to the God whom he had found again. He began with a simple prayer which his mother had taught him; but then he cried to the Lord as to a mighty counselor, and besought Him with fervent entreaty to show him the way in which he should walk without being disobedient to his father, or breaking the oath he had sworn to the king, or becoming a traitor in the eyes of those to whom he owed so much. " Thy people glorify Thee as the God of truth, punish- ing those who break their oath 1 " he cried. " How canst Thou bid me to be faithless and to be false to the pledge I' have given? All I am or can do is Thine, O Lord, and lam ready to give my blood and my life for my brethren. But rather than cast me into dishonor and i)crjury let me die, and give the task Thou hast chosen me, Thy servant, to do, to a free man bound by no oath ! " Thus he prayed, and he felt as though he clasped in his arms a friend whom he had accounted as lost. Then he walked on in silence through the diminishing darkness, and, as the grey dawn stole up, the high tide of passion ebbed in his soul, and the clear-headed warrior could think calmly. He had vowed to do nothing against the will of his father or his God ; but he was no less resolved never to be a traitor and oath-breaker. What he liad to do he now saw plainly and clearly. He must quit Pharaoh's service, and declare before the face of his superiors that, as a duti- ful son, he must obey the commandments of his father, and go forth to share his fortunes and the fortunes of his people. But he did not conceal from himself that his demand might be refused ; that he might be kept back by force ; and perhaps, if he persisted unmoved in his resolve, be threatened with death, or, if it came to the worst, be hand- ed over to the executioner. But even if this should be his doom, if his deed cost him his life, he would have done what was right, and his comrades in arms, whose esteem was dear to him, would still think of him as their worthy- mate ; his father and Miriam would not be wroth with him ; nay, but would mourn for the faithful son, the true man who preferred death to treason. Calm and elevated in spirit, he gave the watchword to the sentry with proud composure, and went into his tent. 23i 50 70Sl/{ -A . iillilii Ephraiin siill lay sleeping and smiling as though wrapped in sweet dreams. Joshua lay down on a mat near him to seek strength for the hard day before him. His eyes soon closed, and after sleeping an hour he awoke of his own accord and called for his handsomest raiment, his hel- met and gilt armor which he was wont to wear only 'at high festivals or in the king's presence. Meanwhile Ephraim, too, awoke, gazed at his uncle from head to foot with delighted curiosity as he stood before him in stalwart manliness and shining warlike splendor, and cried as he started up : ** It must be a fine thing to be dressed like that and feel oneself the leader of thousands." The elder man shrugged his shoulders and replied : ** Obey the Lord thy God, and give no man, whether great or small, the right to regard you with anything but respect, and then you may carry your head as high as the proudest hero in his purple robe and gilt breast-plate." '* But you have done great things among the Egyptians," the lad went on. "They hold you in high esteem — even Hornecht the great captain, and his daughter Kasnna." ** Do they?" said the warrior with a smile ; a'" ie bid his nephew to lie down and keep quiet ; for I row, though less burning than it had been the night before, was still very hot. " Do not go out of doors," Joshua added, " till the leech has been to see you, and await my return." " And will you be long away ? " asked the boy. At this Joshua paused in thought, looked kindly in his face and then gravely replied : " The man who serves a master never knows how long he may be detained." Then, changing his tone, he added less emphatically : *' To-day, this morning, I may perhaps get through my business quickly and iCturn in a few hours. If it should not be so, if I should not be with you by this evening, or early to-morrow morning, then," and he laid his hand on the boy's shoulder, ** then make your way home as fast as you can. If when you reach Succoth the people have gone on before you, look in the hollow syca- more before the house of Aminadab and you will find a letter which will tell you whither they have gone ; and when you come up with them greet my father and my grandfather Elishama, and likewise Miriam, and tell them ■;'* JOSH r A. SI car him lis eyes ^e of his , his hel- only at [icle from )d before splendor, it and feel )Ued : ^1^ whether ,y thing but high as the I -pi ale." Kgvi)tians," icVm— even Kasnna." _ a'- le bid r 1 row, before, was Itill the leech )oy. . , . Lindly m his .„'s how long |ne, he added may perhaps Irn in a few t be with you then," and he lake your way Succoth the hollow syca- pu will find a [e gone ; and ither and my d tell them and all the people that Joshua will ever be mindful of the commands of (Jod and of his father. Henceforth he will be called Joshua by all men — Joshua and not Hosea. Tell this to Miriam first of all. Finall) , say to them that if I ,stay behind, if I am not allowed to follow them as I fain would do, it is that the Most High hath dealt otherwise with me, and hath broken the sword which He had chosen before He had used it. Do you understand me, boy? " And Kphraim bowed his head and said : *' You mean that death alone can keep you from obeying the call of God and your father's commands ? " " That was my meaning," replied his uncle. " And if they ask you why I have not stolen away from Pharaoh and escaped from his jjowcr, answer that Joshua would fain enter on his office as a true man unstained by i)crjury, or, if it be God's will, to die true. Now rehearse the mes- sage." Ephraim obeyed, and his uncle's word > must have sunk deep into his soul, for he neither forgo' nor altered a single word ; but he had no sooner ended his task of repetition than he seized Joshua's hand with vehement urgency, and implored him to tell him whether he had indeed any fear for his life. At this the warrior clasped him in a loving embrace, and assured him that he hoped that he had given him this mes- sage only to be forgotten. " Perhaps," he added, " they may try to keep me by force ; but by God's help I shall soon be back v;ith you again, and we will ride forth together to Succoth." He turned and went out without heeding his nephew's questions, for he heard the sound of wheels without, and two chariots with five horses came rapidly up to the tent £ad stopped in front of the entrance. CHAPTER Vni. Joshua was well acquainted with the men who stepped out of the chariots ; they were the head chamberlain and one of the king's chief scribes, and they had come to bid him to the High Gate, as the palace of the Pharaohs was called. No hesitancy or escape was possible, and he got into the tt I JOSHUA. second chariot with che scribe, surprised indeed but not untiisy. Both officials wore mourning robes, and instead of a white ostrich phime, the insignia of office, a black plume fixed on the brow. The horses, too, and the runners were decked with badges of the deepest woe ; and yet the king's messenger seemed to be cheerful rather than dejected, for the noble bird which they were charged to bring int'^ Pharaoh's i)resence had come out at their call ; and they had feared to find the nest deserted. The long-limbed bays of royal breed carried the light vehicles with the swiftness of the wind across the uneven eandy way and the smooth high road beyond, towards the palace. Ephraim with youthful inquisitivencss had gone out of the tent to see the unwonted scene that met his eyes. The soldiers were well pleased that Pharaoh should have sent hio own chariots to fetcli their captain, and he even felt his vanity flattered when he saw his uncle drive away. But he had not long the pleasure of watching liim, for thick clouds of dusi soon hid the chariots from view. The hot desert wind iiad risen which so often blows in the Nile-valley during the spring months, and whereas all night and in the morning the sky had been clearly blue, it was now not clouded but veiled, as it were, with white haze. The sun locked down, a motionless globe, like a blind eye above the heads of meii, and the fierce heat it shed seemed to have burnt up its beams which to-day were invisible. The eye protected by the mist could look up at it unhurt, and yet its scorching power was as great as ever. The light breeze which commonly fanned the brow in the early part of the day touched it now like the hot breath of a raging beast of prey. It was loaded with the fine scorching sand of the desert, and the pleasure of breathing was turned to torture. The usually fragrant air of a March-day in Egypt was now an oppression both to man and beast, choking their lungs and seer^ing indeed to weigh on the whole frame and check its joy m life. The higher the pale and rayless orb rose in the sky, the denser grew the mist, the heavier and swifter rolled the sand clouds from the desert. Ephraim still stood in front of the tent gazing at the spot where Pharaoh's chariots had vanished in the dust. JOSHUA. 53 but not [ instead a black ; runners d yet the ner than barged to heir call ; I \he ligl^t he uneven )Nvards the rone out of 'eyes. The i have sent e even felt Irivc away, ig hun, fo'^ \ view, ten blows in whereas all early blue, it , with white Uke a blind heat it shed to-day were ,uld look up as great as ,ed the brow like the hot 4ed with the » pleasure of [y fragrant air Ission both to ing indeed to in life. n the sky, the [ter rolled the , gazing at the U in the uusl. His knees sliook, but he attributed this to the wind sent by Set-Typhon, at whose blowing even the strongest was aware of a weight about his feet. Joshua was gone, but he might return in a few hours, and then lie would be corai)elled to follow him to Succoth. There the fair dreams and hopes which yesterday had brought liim, and whose bewitching charms his fever had enhanced, would be lost to him for ever. In the course of the night he had quite made up his mind to enter Pliaraoh's army, to the end that he might remain near Tanis and Kasana; but although he had not more than half understood Joshua's message, he could clearly infer thai lie meant to turn his back on Egypt and his high office, and that he counted on taking him, Ephraim, with him, unless meanwhile he could make good his escape. So then he must give \\\> his desire to see Kasana once more. But this thought was more than he could endure, and a voice within whispered to him that he had neither father nor mother, and was free to act as he choose. His guardian, the brother of his deceased father, in whose house he had been brought up, had died not long since of an illness, and no new guardian had been appointed to him, as he was now past childhood. He was destined l)y-and-l)ye to become one of the chiefs of his proud tribe, and until yesterday he had never wished for anything better. VVhen, yesterday, he had rejected the priest's challenge to become a warrior under Pharaoli, with the pride of a shepherd-prince, he had followed the impulse of his heart ; but now he said lo himself that he had been foolish and childish to reject a thing of which he knew nothing, which had always and intentionally been represented to him in a Idlse and hideous light in order to attach him more closely to his own people. The Egyptians, he had always been told, were his enemies and oppressors ; and how delight- ful, on the contrary, had everything seemed in the first house of an Egyptian warrior which he had happened to enter. And Kasana ! What would she think of him if he quitted Tanis without a word of greeting or leave-taking? Would it not be a perpetual vexation and regret to him that he must dwell in her memory as a clumsy peasant shepherd? Indeed, it would be actually dishonest not to I — 54 JOSHUA, restore the costly garments which she had lent him. Gra- titude was accounted among the Hebrews, too, as the holiest duty of a noble heart. He would be a hateful wrelch all his life long if he did not go to see her once more. Only he must make haste, for when Joshua should return he must find him ready to set out. He began forthwith to strap the sandals on his feet, but he did it but slowly, and he could not understand what it was that made everything so difficult to him to-day. He crossed the camp unimpeded, the pylons and obel- isks in front of the temples showed him the way, though they seemed to quiver in the heated, sand-filled air, and he presently came out on the broad road which led to the town market-place. A panting Egyptian, whose ass was carrying wine-skins to the cam]), directed liim on his way. The path was deep in dust, and dust wrapped him as he went ; the sun overhead i)oured a flood of fire down on his bare head, and his wound again began to ache ; the sand filled his eyes and .nouth and stung his face and bare limbs. He was overpowered by thirst, and more than once lie was forced to stop for his feet felt strangely heavy. At last he reached a well, dug for wayfarers by a pious Egyptian, :ind although it was graced with the image of a god, and Miriam had taught him that it was an abomination to turn fir)m the way to such images, he drank nevertheless, drank at-ain and again, and thought he had n^-'ver enjoyed such a refreshing draught. He got over his fear of loL.ing his senses, as he had done yesterday, and though his feet still dragged he walked on briskly to the tempting goal. But presently his strength again failed him, the sweat streamed from his brow, there was a throbbing and hammering in the cut on his head, and he felt as if his skull was being crushed in an iron fillet. Now his usually keen sight was failing, for the things he tried to see seemed to float in dancing dust, the horizon rocked before his eyes ; and suddenly he felt as though the hard i)avementhad turned to a bog beneath his feet. Still, all this troubled him little, for his fancy had never glowed so brightly within him. The things he thought of rose before him with marvelous vividness. Image after image stood before the wide-oi)ene(l eyes of his soul, and not at his bidding, but as if raised by a will outside himself. Now Gra- IS the lateful r once should let, but what it r. id obel- thoujh •, and he i to the ass was his way. lim as he vn on his the sand lie limbs, ce he was At last he ptian. and ^d Miriam 1 f om the attain and reVreshing had done walked on strength row, there head, and iron fillet, things he le horizon though the feet. Still, Ivcr glowed ht of rose fter image and not at Bnself. Now JOSHUA. 55 he beheld himself lying at Kasana's feet, his head fondly laid on her laj) while he gazed up into her lovely face — then it was Joshua who stood before him in splendid armor, as he had just now seen him, only more gorgeous, and in ruddy fire-light instead of the dim light in the tent. Then again all the finest oxen and rams of his herds passed in front of him ; and mingling with all these, sentences of the message he had learned passed tliough liis mind, nay, he fancied that they were being shouted in his ears ; but before he could be quite sure of their meaning some new and dazzling vision, or a loud, rushing sound filled his mmd's eye and ear. And on he went tottering like one drunk, with the sweat standing on his brow and a ])arc]ied mouth. Now and then he mechanically lifted his hand to wi})e the dust from his burning eyes, but he cared little that ihey failed to shew him clearly what was passing around him. for nothing could be more delightful than what he beheld when he looked within. Every now and then, to be sure, he was conscious of acute suffering, and he felt inclined to fling himself on the ground in sheer exhaustion, but then again a strange sense of relief kept him up. At last the delirium was too much for him ; his head seemed growing and swelling till it was as large as the head of the colossus he had seen yesterday in front of a temple ; then it rose to the heiglit of the palm-trees by the road side, and at last it reached the mist over the firmament, and higher and higher yet. Then this head, which was still his head, was as wide as the horizon, and he pressed his hand^ to his temples and held his brow, for his neck and shoulders were too weak to bear the burthen of so huge a head, till, possessed with this madness, he shrieked aloud, his knees gave way, and he sank senseless in the dust. CHAPTER IX. At this same hour a chamberlain was leading Joshua into the hall of audience. Though subjects bidden to attend the king commonly had hours to wait, the Hebrew's patience was put to no severe test. At this time of deep mourning the spacious '^1 I') 'i<ii JOSHUA. Ilili I U rooms of the palace, in which a gay and noisy throng were wont to move, were as still as the grave ; for not the slaves and sentries only, but many persons of superior rank in immediate attendance on the royal pair, had lied from the pestilence and escaped without leave. Here and there a solitary priest or official leaned against a pillar or cowered on the ground, hiding his face in his hands, while awaiting some command. Soldiers went about trailing their arms and in silent brooding. Now and then a few young priests in mourning robes stole through the deserted rooms, and speechlessly swung the silver cen- sers, which shed a pungent perfume of resin and junipers. It was as though a terrible incubus weighed on the palace and its inhabitants; for, added to the loss of the king's beloved son, which came home to many hearts, the fear of death and the desert-wind had crushed the energies of mind and body alike. I fere, under the shadow of the throne, where of yore all eyes had glittered with hope, ambition, gratitude or fear, devotion or hatred, Joshua saw to-day only bowed heads and downcast looks. Haie, alone, the second prophet of Anion, seemed un- touched by sorrow, or the terrors of the night, or the enervating influences of the day ; he greeted the captain in the anie-chamber as frankly and cheerfully as ever, and assured him, though in an undertone, that no one dreamed of calling him to account for the sins of his people. But when the Hebrew, of his own free will, acknowledged that at the moment when he was sent for by the king he was in the act of going to the superior captains of the army to beseech them to release him from his service, the priest interruj)ted him to remind him of the debt of gratitude which he. Bale, owed to him. And he declared that, for his part, he would do his utmost to keep him with the army, and to prove to him that an Egyptian knew how to honor faithful service without respect of persons or consi- derations of birth, nay, even against Pharaoh's will ; and of this he would presently speak with him in secret. But the Hebrew had no time to reiterate his purpose, for the head chamberlain interrupted them to lead Joshua into the presence of the " kind god." * An euphemistic title of the Pharaohs. JOSHUA, 57 ig were t slaves rank in rom ihe i against ce in his rs went Now and ; through ilver cen- junipeis. 1 on the 3SS of the icarts, the 2 energies of yore all le or fear, wed heads eemed un- ht, or the :he captain s ever, and lie dreamed ioplc. But ledged that ing he was 3f the army e, the priest of gratitude ■ed that, for am with the cnew how to ■ns or consi- s will ; and ecret. his purpose, lead Joshua Pharaoh awaited him in the smaller reception hall, adjoining liic royal apartments. It wa:; a noble room, and looked more sjiacious to-day than when, as usual, it was filled with a crowd. Only a few courtiers and i)riests, with some of the ([uccn's ladies, formed a small group, all in deep mourning, round the throne ; opposite the king, squatting in a circle on the ground, were the king's coun- cillors and scribes, wearing each his o-^trich plume. All wore badges of mourning, and the monotonous chant of the wailing women, broken now and then by a loud, shrill, tremulous outcry, came pealing out from the inner rooms and found its way to the great hall, a token that death had claimed a victim even in the palace. 'i'he king and cpiecn sat on a couch under a canopy of black ; the throne itself was of ivory and gold. Instead of their splendid state attire they were clad in dark robes, and the royal wife and mother, who bewailed her first-born, leaned motionless and with downcast head against her husband's shoulder. Pharaol), too, kept his eyes fixed on the ground, as if lost in a dream. The sceptre had fallen from his hand and lay in his laj). The queen had been torn from the corpse of her son, which was now given over to the embalmers, and it was not till she entered the audience hall that she had been able to control her tears. But she had not thought of resistance, for the unrelenting ceremonial of cour^ life made the queen's i)rescnce indispensable at any audience of high importance. And to-day of all days she certainly would fain have cscajicd, Init that Pharaoh had command- ed her to appear. She knew what counsel was to be taken, and api)roved of it beforehand ; for she was wholly possessed by her dread of the power of Mesu the Hebrew, called by his own people Moses, and of his God, who had brought such terrors on Egypt. Alas ! for she had other children to lose, and she had known Mesu from his child- hood, and knew in what high esteem the learning of this stranger had been held by the great Rameses, her hus- band's father and predecessor, who had brought him up with his own sons. Oh, if it were but possible to make terms with this man ! But Mesu had departed with his people; and she knew his iron will, and that the terrible foe was armed not alone I'lf . 58 JOSHUA. against Pharaoh's threats but even against her passionate supplications. Now she would meet Joshua ; and he, the son of Nun, and the most noble of the Hebrews of Tanis, could succeed, if any man could, in carrying out such measures as she and her husband might think best for all parties, in concert with Ruie, the venerable high priest and chief prophet of Anion, the pontiff of all priesthood of Egypt, who com- bined in his own person the dignities of chief judge, treas- urer and viceroy of the realm, and who had come with Uie coui c from Thebes to Tanis. When she had been sent for to the audience chamber she was winding a garland for the beloved dead, and lotos flowers, larkspurs, mallow and willow leaves were handed to her as she required them. They lay before her nov/ on a table and in her lap, but she felt paralyzed, and her hand, as she put it forth, refused its service. Ruie, the chief prophet of Amon, sat on his heels on a mat to the left of the king ; lie was a very old man, long past his ninetieth year. A pair of shrewd eyes, shaded by a pent-house of thick white eyebrows, looked out of his brown face, which was as gnarled and wrinkled as a bark of a rugged oak, like bright flowers from withered foliage, and their brilliancy was startling in such a shrunken, hud- dled, stooping figure. This old man had long since left all active conduct of affairs to the second prophet. Bale, but he clung stoutly ta his dignities, to his place at Pharaoh's side, and his seat in the council; and rarely as he spoke, his opinion more often carried the day than that of the eloquent, fiery and much younger second prophet. Since the pestilence had invaded the palace the old man had not quitted Pharaoh's side, yet he felt more alive than usual to-day, for the desert wind, which made others lan- guish, revived him. He was wont to shiver continu:illy in spite of the panther skin which covered his back and shoulders, and the heat of the day warmed his sluggish old blood. The Hebrew Mesu had been his pupil, and never had he bad the guidance of a grander nature or the teaching of a youth more richly graced with all the gifts of the spirit. He had initiated the Hebrew into all the highest mysteries, and had expected the greatest results for Egypt. JOSHUA, 59' ion ate f Nun, icceed, he and ;oncert phet of o com- ;, treas- ivith the fiber she id lotos handed nov/ on and lier eels on a lan, long haded by lut of his xs a bark ■d folia ge» ken, hud- Dnduct of stoutly ta his seat in lion more fiery and ie old man alive than )thers lan- :ontinuAlly back and uggish old never had le teaching ifts of the the highest s for Egypt. and tlie priesthood ; and when Mesu had one day slain an o\erseer who was unmercifully flogging one of liis fellow Hebrews, and had lied into the desert. Rule had bewailed the rash deed as deeply as if his own son had committed it and was to suffer the consequences. His intercession had procured Mesu's pardon, but when Mcsu had returned to Egyi)t, s.i\(\. that change had been wrought in him which his friends in the temple called his aj^ostasy, he liad caused his old master a keener grief than by his flight. If Ruie had been younger he would have hated the man who had cheated his dearest hopes ; but the old priest, to whom the human Ivjart was as an open book, and whose sober impartiality enabled him to put himself in the place of h'b fellow-man, confessed to himself that it was his own fault that he had failed to foresee this falling away. Education and dogma had made of Mesu, the Hebrew, an Egyptian priest after his own heart and jjleasing to the divinity, but when once he had raised his hand to defend one of his own race against those to whom he had been allied only by human agencies, he was lost to the Iv.^yi^tians. He was henceforth a true son of his people ; and v/hithersoever this high-minded and strong-willed man might lead, others " must inevitably follow. Aye, and the high priest knew full well what it was that the apostate hoped to give to his people ; he had confessed to Ruie himself that it was the faith in One God. Mesu had denied that he was guilty of perjury, and had pledged himself never to betray the mysteries to liis people, but only to lead them back to the God whom their forefathers had served before Joseph and his kindred had ever come into Egypt. The One God of the initiated was, no doubt, in many respects like the God of the Hebrews, and that was precisely what had reassured the ancient sage ; for he knew by experience that the common folk would not be Content with a god, one and invisible, such as many of the Jnore advanced of his own disciples found it difficult to conceive of. The men and women of the masses required sensible images of everything of which they perceived the effects in and about them, and tin's need tlic religion of the Egyptians gratified. V.'hat comfort c:;iild a love-lorn maid find in an invisible and creative Power governing the course of the universe ? She would be drawn to the gentle Hathor, who held in her beneficent grasp the cords which ;'4 'M - I 60 JOSHUA. bind heart to heart, the fair and powerful goddess of pro- creation before whom she could pour forth in full confi- dence all that weighed on her soul. Or a mother who longed to snatch a darling child from death — how could her small sorrows concern the incomprehensible and almighty Being who ruled the whole world ? ]kit Isis, the gracious mother, who herself had wci)t in such deep anguish, she could understand her grief! And how often in Egypt it was the wife who inlluenced her husband's attitude to the gods ! And tlic high priest had frequently seen Hebrew men and women worshipping devoutly in the sanctuaries of Egypt. Even if JNIcsu should succeed in persuiiding them to acknowledge One God, he, the experienced old man, foresaw with certainty that they would ere long turn away from the invisible Spirit who must ever remain remote and unreal to their apprehension, and Hock back in hundreds to the gods they could understand. Now, Egypt was tiireatcncd with the loss of the husband- men and brickmakers she so greatly needed. Still Ruie believed he could lure them back. *' When kind words will do the work let sword and bow lie idle," he had said to his deputy, Baic, who had urged that the fugitives should be pursued and slain. '' We have more corpses than enough already ; what we lack are workers. Let us try to keep our hold on what we are so likely to lose." And this milder counsel had been quite after the heart of Pharaoh, who had had enough of lamentation, and who would have thought it less rash to go unarmed into a lion's cage than to defy the terrible Hebrew any further. So he had turned a deaf ear to the incitements of the second prophet, whose decisive and energetic nature had an influence all the more powerful as his own was irre- solute, and had approved old Rule's proposal that Joshua, the man of war, should be sent to his people, to treat with them in Pharaoh's name — a plan which had calmed his fears and inspired him with new hopes. Baie himself had at last agreed to thi? suggestion. It gave him a further chance of undermining the throne he hoped to overthrow ; and if once the Hebrews were re- established in the land. Prince Siptah, in whose eyes no punishment was 100 severe for the Hebrews, who hated JOSHUA. 6l ;s of pro- full confi- )ther who 10 w could sible and Lit Isis, the juch deep how often husband's cbrew men ictuaries of luding them ;d old man, T turn away demote and in hundreds he husband- . Still Ruie ord and bow o had urged " We have ^vc lack are uat we are so ftcr the heart ion, and who d into a Uon's irther. ■ments of the ic nature had own was irre- that Joshua, to treat with .d calmed his figgestion. It the throne he >rews were re- whose eyes no ws, who hated him, might very probably seize the sceptre of the cowardly Menephtali. J^ut first the fugitives must be stopped, and for this Joshua was the ri[;ht man. No one, lUiie thought, was better fitted to win the confidence of an unsuspicious soldier than Pharaoh Jiimsclf and his royal wife. The old high i)ricst was on thi^ \)()\\\X. of the same opinion, although he had nothing to do with the conspiracy ; and thus the sovereigns had determined to interrupt the lamentations for the dead and tliemselves speak with the Hcbrev/. Joshua fell on his face before their feet, and when he rose the king's weary face was bent on him, sadly indeed, but graciously. The father who had lost his first-born son liad, according to custom, sacrificed his hair and beard to the razor. Tliey had formerly framed Iiis face in glossy black, but near twenty years of anxious rule had turned them grey, and his figure had lost its upright bearing and had a languid, senile stoop, though he was scarcely past fifty. His regular features were still handsome, and there was something pathetic \\\ their melancholy softness, evidently incapable of any severe tension, especially when a smile lent be- witching charm to his mouth. The indolent deliberate- ness of his movements scarcely detracted from the natural dignity of his person, though his voice, which was agree- able, generally had an exhausted and plaintive sound. He was not born to rule j thirteen brothers, older than he, had died before the heirship to the throne had devolved upon him, and he, meanwhile, as the handsomest youth in all the land, the darling of the women and a light-hearted favorite of fortune, had lived a life of unbroken enjoyment till he had almost arrived at manhood. Then he had succeeded his father, Rameses the Great ; and hardly had he grasped the sceptre when the Libyans, with strong allies, had rebelled against his rule. The veteran troops and their captains, schooled in his lather's wars, helped him to conquer. But in the twenty years which had now elapsed since his father's death his armies had rarely had any rest, for rebellions had constantly to be quelled, now in the East and now in the West ; and instead of dwelling in Thebes, where he had spent many happy years, and living in the most gorgeous of palaces, as he would fain have done, enjoying the blessings of peace and the society i.i 1 II ! 62 yos//r\i. of the illustrious students and poets who wore at that time to l)c found there, lie was forced sometimes to lead his armies into the field, and sometimes to reside at 7"anis. Thus only could he settle the difiiculties that disturbed the border province, and in this he yielded v/illinjdy to the coun- sels of Ruic. Jn the later yc-arsof his father's reign the national sanctuary at Thebes, and, consi'quenlly, its hi{j,li priest, had attaiut-d greater wealth and i)0wer than the royal fauiily, and it suited Menephtah's indolent nature to be an instrument rather than a master, so long as ho abdicated none of the external honors due to Pharaoh. These he guarded with a resolute care which he ,vas inca- pable of exerting when more serious matters demanded it. Thegracious condescension with which the king received him gratified Joshua, and at the same time roused his suspicions. However, he had the courage to declare freely that he desired to be released from his ofFice aiul from the oath he hatl taken to his sovereign lord. Pharaoh listened unmoved, and it was not till the soldier had confessed that his father's conmiands h;id moved l.iin to take this ste^) that Pharaoh signed to the high prie; t, who then spoke in scarcely audible toneii : '* A son who sacrifices greatness tliat he may contimio dutiful to his father must be one of the most faithful of Pharaoh's servants. Go then, do the bidding of Nun. Tie child of the sun, the lord of Upper and Lower ]''gyp.t, .sc Is you free. But on one condition, which J, as the minister of his master, declare to you." ; '* And what is that? " inquired Joshua. And again the king signed to the old priest ; then l;c sank back on the throne, while Ruic fixed his piercing eyes on Joshua and went on : ** That wliich the Lord of both worlds requires of you bj my mouth is easy to fulfill. You must return, tc be hi; servant and one of us again, as soon as your i)eoplc arc their chief, who brought such woe on this land, shall hav; taken the hand of the divine son of the Sun which he voud safes to hold forth to them in pardon, and shall have coir: back under the shadow of his throne. He, of his divir. mercy, is ready to attach them to him and to his land aga: with rich gifts, as soon as they come home from the destr whither they are gone forth to sacrifice to their f;fi Mark me well ! All the oppressions which weighed on t^ '^^,. yos//L/A. 63 that lime ,0 lead Ui^ . at 'ranis, turbid the o the couu- s r- i^i^ ^^^^ ,ly, lis hiuU jr diau the ■it luvlvirc to long as hi- 10 I'havaoh. I^c vas inca- K-niandcd it. .iin; received L3 roused bi:i > 1(1 declare \\^ office aiul ord. ^. tin the BoUiioi icl moved l.ii^^ ic high pi-1^"-^ may contirAio .lost faithfid 0! of Nun. '11^ ■cr K!;yi't»;'^'' ,s the minister .riest ; then \a [is piercing cye> uiircs of you J) Icturn, to be hii lour people rJ.C land, shall ha^ which he voud shall have coir;. le, of his divir. to his land aga from the desei .e to their g^; Ih weighed on I. people to whom you belong shall be lifted from them. Tlie divine King will make a new law granting them much free- dom and many privileges, and all that we promise them shall be written down and witnessed on our |)arl and on yours, as a new covenant binding on our cJiildrcM and our children's children. Now when this sluill iiave been done, with an honest purjjose to abide by it forever on our part, and when your |)eople shall have agreed to accept it, will you tin 11 consent to be one of us once more ? " *' Take ujion yourself the ollice of mediator," the queen here broke in, in a low voice, and her sad eyes were fixed beseechingly on the Hebrew's face. " I quail before Mesu's wrath, and all that may be done shall be df)ne to win back his former friendshij). Sj)eak to him in my name, ..nd re- mind him of the days wlien J, Isis Nefcrt, would learn of him the names of the plants 1 carried to him, and he taught me and my sister their uses or their poisonous powers when he came to see the queen, his second mother, in the women's (juarlers. The wounds he lias inflicted on our hearts shall be forgiven and forgotten. Be our ambassador, JosJiua; do not refuse our prayer ! " " Such words from such gracious lips are a command," replied the warrior, " and arc sweet to the heart. 1 will be mediator." At this the old high priest nodded approval, and said : ** Then I hope that the fruit of this short hour may be a long period of peace. But mark me. Where medicine may avail we avoid the knife and cautery ; where there is a bridge over the river a man does not rashly try to swim through the whirlpool." " Yes, verily, we will avoid the whirlpool," said the king, and the queen repeated his words ; then she again fixed Jier eyes on the flowers in her lap. Then a formal council was held. Three private scribes sat down on the ground, close to the high priest, to enable them to hear his low tones, and the interpreters and counselors, in their places, took out their wridng things, and, holding the papyrus in their left liands, wrote with reeds or brushes, for nothing might lemain unrecorded which was discussed and decided in iPharaoh's presence. Hardly a whisper was to be heard in the hall while this went on ; the guards and courtiers remained motionless in their places, and the royal couple ly X \* 64 JOSHUA. sat rigid and speechless, gazing into vacancy, as if in a dream. Neither Pharaoh nor his wife could possibly have caught a word of the murmured colloquy of the speakers, hut the Egyptians never ended a sentence without glancing up at the king, as if to make sure of his approval. Joshua, who was accuslouied to the scene, followed their exami)Ief speaking like the others in a sul)dued voice, and when l)reiently the voice of the second prophet, or of the chiet interpreter, sounded rather louder, Pharaoh raised his head and repeated the high priest's last saying : " Where there is a bridge over the river a man does not try to swim the wliirlpool," for this exactly expressed his wishes and the queen's. No fighting. Peace with the Hebrews, and res- pite from the wrath of their terrible leader and of his god, without losing the thousand diligent hands of the fugitive tribes. Thus matters proceeded, and when the muttering of the speakers and the scratching of the pens had gone on for fully an hour, the queen was still sitting in the same atti- tude j but Pharaoh began to stir and raise his voice, for he knew that the second prophet hated the man whose blessing he had received and whose hostility filled him with such dread, and he feared but he should be requiring some impossible conditions of the envoy. Still, all he said was again a repetition of the counsel as to the bridge ; but his inquiring glance at the chief inter- preter moved that official to assure him that all was proceeding favorably. Joshua had merely demanded thai the overseers, who kept guard over the men at work, should not, for the future, be watchmen of IJbyan race, but He- brews themselves, to be chosen by the elders of their people under the sanction of the Egyptian government. At this Pharaoh cast his look of anxious entreaty at Baie and the other councillors. The second prophet only shrugged his shoulders regretfully, and, feigning to defer his own opinion to the divine wisdom of Pharaoh, conceded this point to Joshua. The god enthroned on earth acknow- ledged this submission with a grateful bow, for Bale's will had often crossed his ; and then, when the herald or rehearser had read aloud all the clauses of the treaty, Joshua was required to take a solemn oath that he would ,in any case come back to Tanis and report how his people had received the king's advances. yosiJCA. 6s ,s if in 3, ,re caught i, but the :ing up at shua,wh<f and when f the chiet jd his head ,'hete there o swim the ,cs and the kvs, and res- of his god, the fugitive •ering of the gone on fol- ic same atti- lis voice, for > man whose iled him with iquiring some le counsel as e chief inter- that all was emanded thai work, should race, but He- Df their people ent. . treaty at Baie prophet only rning to defer aoh, conceded earth acknow for Baie's will the herald or of the treaty, . that he would how his people But the cautious warrior, who was vvcU aware of all the snares and traps with whicli tlie State was only too ready, took this oath most unwilli'.igly, and only when lie had obtained a written ])ledge that, whatever the issue, his free- dom should be in no way interfered with as soon as he could give them his word that he had done his part to in- duce the leader of his people to .iccept these terms. At last rharaoh held out his h.\nd for the captain to kiss, and when he had also pressed to his lips the hem of the queen's robe, Ruie signed to the monarch, who understood that the moment was come when he should withdraw. And he did so with goodwill and a sense of encouragement, for he believed that he had acted for the best for his own welfare and that of his people. A bright radiance lighted up his handsome, languid features, and when the queen rose and saw him smile, con- tent, she did the same. At the door the king drew a breath of relief, and turning to his wife he said : " If Joshua does his errand well we shall get across the bridge." '* And not swim the whirlpool," replied the queen in the same tone. " And if the Hebrew captain can pacify Mesu," Pharaoh Went on, " and he persuades his people to remain in the land " *' Then you must adopt this Joshua into the royal family. He is well favored and of a lordly mien," his wife broke in. But at this Pharaoh suddenly abandoned his stooping and indifferent attitude. "Impossible!" he eagerly exclaimed. "A Hebrew! If we raise him to be one of the ' friends,' or a fa,nbearer, that is the highest he can hope for. In such matters it is very difficult to avoid doing too much or too little ! " • As the royal couple went forward toward the private apartments the wailing of the mourners fell more loudly on the ear. Tears started afresh to the queen's eyes, while Pharaoh continued to deliberate precisely what position in the court Joshua might be allowed to fill if he succeeded in his embassy. . '! ' m VMMlii i1 pi 66 JOSHUA, mm iiiii I I !>] >! I CHAPTER X. Joshua had now to hasten if he was to overtake the Hebrcv's in time, for the further they had got on their way the more difficult it might be to persuade Moses and the heads of the tribes to return and accept the terms offered them. The events of this morning were to him so marvelous that he regarded the issue as a dispensation of the god lie had found once more \ also he rememl)ercd the name of Joshua, that is to say, " holpen of the Lord," which liad been laid upon him by Miriam's message, whereas he had hitherto been called Hosea. He was willing to bear it, although he felt it hard to deny the sovereign who had raised him to honor. Many of his fellow-warriors had assumed similar names, and his had proved itself nobly true. Never had the help of '"lod been more clearly with him than it had been this d.iy. He had gone into Pha- raoh's palace in the expectation of losing his freedom or being handed o'^er to the executioner as soon as he de- clared his wish to follow his people ; and how easily had the ties been severed which bound him to Egypt. And he had been charged with a task, in his eyes so great and noble, that he could not forbear believing that i.ie God of his fathers had called him to fulfill it. He loved Egypt. It was a glorious land. Where could his people find a fairer dwelling place ? The conditions only under which they had dwelt there had been intoler- able. Better days were now before them. The Hebrews were to be permitted to return to Goshen or to settle in the lakeland \vcst of the Nile, a district v.'hose fertility was well known to him. No one henceforth might compel them to serfdom, and if they laid their hands to labor for the State, Hebrews only v/ere to be their ta':;kmasters, and not the hard and cruel >^ .ranger. That his people must re- main subject to Pharaoh was a matter of course. Joseph. Ephraim and his sons, Joshua's forefathers, had called themselves so, and had been well content to be regarded t? o< of yOSHUA. 67 •take the their way and the ns offered marvelous lie god he e name of ^vhich I'^d MS he had to bear it, ;n who had iirriors had itself nobly clearly with e into Pha- freedom or ,n as he de- easily had giypt. And ,0 great and^ lae God of ^^here could c conditions peen intoler- fhe Hebrews Ir to settle in J fertility was light compel Is to labor for ^masters, and lople must re- Irse. Josepb. }s, had called be regarded as Egyptians. If his embassy came to a good end, the eldcrc of the tribes were to be allowed to rule the domestic affairs of the people. Moses must be the chief ruler in the new settlement, in spite of the second prophet's objections, and h^ himself would be captain of the united force which should defend its frontiers, and form fresh legions of those Hebrew mercenaries who had already proved their valor in many wars. Before he left the palace the second prophet had given him several mysterious hints which had remained unsolved, but from which he inferred that Baie was big with portentous schemes, and proposed to give him some important charge as soon as the conduct of the State should fall from the hands of old Ruie into his own ; perhaps the chief captaincy of the whole army of mercen- aries, a post at present held by a Syrian named Aarsu. This disturbed rather than gratified him ; but on the other hand it was a great satisfaction to him t( have made it a con dition that the eastern frontier should, every third year, be thrown open to the Hebrews, that they might go forth to the desert to offer sacrifices to their God. On this Moses had insisted most strongly, for, as the law now stood, no one was permitted to cross the eastern limit line, which was fortified at all points, without the express consent of the authorities. This concession to their great leader's desires might perhaps gain his assent to a treaty so favor- able to his people. All through these transactions Joshua had felt keenly how far he had been cut off from his tribe ; he could not €ven say what was the aim of this worship in the desert. He had frankly confessed before Pharaoh's council that he knew nothing of the comi)laints or demands of the Hebrews, and he did so advisedly, reserving their right to alter and amplify the proposals of which he was the bearer. But what could the people or their chief hope for better? The future lay before him full of hope for his nation and himself. If the covenant should be concluded the time Would come for him to found a family, and the image of Miriam rose before him in all its lofty beauty. The thought of winning this noble woman was an intoxicating One ; and he asked himself whether he were indeed worthy of her, and if it were not too bold to sue for the possession of this superb inspired maiden and prophetess. He knew life well, and understood how little trust could ■11 iifl ■ ! '<! # ' » !"«!' I I! JOSHUA. be placed in the promises of the irresolute man for wiiose weak hand the sceptre was too heavy. But he had taken precautions, and if the elders of the people could only be pacified, the covenant, clause by clause, would be graven on metal tablets, like every other compact between Egypt and a foreign nation, and hung up in the national temple at Thebes, signed by Pharaoh and by the representatives of his people. Such a document — as he had learnt from the treaty of peace concluded with the Kheta— secured and prolonged the brief " forever " of international comj)acts. He had omitted nothing that might protect the Hebrews against treason and faithlessness. Never had Joshua felt stronger, more confident, more glad of life, than when he once more stepped into Pharaoh's chariot to take leave of his subalterns. Even Bale's mys- terious hints and confessions did not disturb him, for he was wont to leave the cares of the future to the future day ; but in the camp a trouble awaited him which darkened the present hour, for he there heard to his surprise, wrath, and distress, that Ephraim had quitted the tent and stolen away, telling no man whither. His hasty questions elicited the fact that the lad had taken the road to Tanis, so Joshua charged his faithful shield-bearer to seek the boy out in the town, and if he found him to bid him follow his uncle to Succoth. Then, as soon as the captain had taken leave of his men, he set forth, followed by his old squire. It was a pleasure to him to see that the Adones* and other inferior officers who had served with him, hard warriors, with whom he had shared all he possessed in war and peace, in peril and privation, so frankly showed their grief at parting. The tears rolled down the brown cheeks of many a man grown grey in battle as he shook hands with him for the last time. Many a bearded lip was pressed to the hem of his garment, or his feet, and the shining coat of the Lybian charger which bore him through the ranks with arched neck and eager prancing, though firmly held in by his rider. His own eyes were moist for the first time since his mother's death, as shouts of honest regret and farewell wishes broke from the manly hearts ot his troops and echoed along the lines. Never had he felt •Answering to our adjutants. t) JOSHUA. 69 : wiiose d taken only be > graven n Kgypt I temple natives of from the J red and lompacts. Hebrews lent, more Pharaoh's 3aie's mys- tiim, for he future day ; 1 darkened rise, wrath, : and stolen ir questions ad to Tanis, .eek the boy m follow his I of his men, .denes* and , him, hard jessed in war [showed their ,rown cheeks shook hands rded Up was feet, and the ^ him through ficing, though Were moist tor DUts of honest lanly hearts ol rer had he tell so deeply as at this moment. How closely his heart was knit to those men, and how precious to him was his noble calling. But the duty which lay before him was high and noble, too ; and the God wlio had released him from his oath and made his way plain to obey his father's behest, and yet be true and faithful, would perhaps lead him back to his com- rades in arms, whose farewell he could fancy still rang in his ears when he was long since out of hearing. Still, the full glory of the work intrusted to him — the exalted frame of mind of a man v.lio goes forth with a higli moral purpose to fulfill — a difficult task — the perfect bliss of a lover who flies with well-grounded hopes to crown the ^>urest and dearest wish of his heart — did not wholly possess him till I had left the town behind him and was hastening, at a bri k trot, across the level plain dotted with palm groves and pools that lay to the southeast. So long as he had kept his horse at a moderate pace along the streets of the town and about the harbor, his mind was so full of the immediate past and of anxiety for the missing youth that he had paid small heed to the scene around him ; the numerous vessels lying at anchor, the motley throng of shii)s' captains, merchants, sailors and porters of the most diverse races of Africa and Western Asia, who here sought their fortunes, or the officials, soldiers and supplicants who had followed the court from Thebes to Tanis. And he had also failed to observe two men of higher rank, though one of them, Hornecht, the captain of the bowmen, had snluted him as he passed. They were standing back under the gateway of the temple of Set for shelter from a cloud of du blown along the road by the ■wind from the desert. Ana as the archer vainly endea- vored to attract the rider's attention, Baie, his companion, ■said to him : " It matters not ; he will learn soon enough where his nephew has found refuge." . '"By your coalman.!," replied the soldier. Tlien he went on eagerly with what he had been saying : " The lad looked like a lump of clay ii; the potters' slied when he was brou;/ht in." '* And no wonder," interrupted the priest. " He had t)een lying quite long enough in Typhon's dust. Butwhat <Hd your steward want among the soldiers? " M V •■'I .1 — ■"~-* 70 JOSHUA, W *' My Adon, whom I had sent out last evening, brought word that the poor lad was in a high fever, so Kasana packed up some wine and her nurse's balsam, and the old woman went with them to the camp." '* To the boy or to the captain ? " asked the prophet, with a cunning smile. " To the sick lad," replied the soldier, decisively, with an ominous frown. But he checked himself and went on, apologetically : " Her heart is as soft as wax, and the Hebrew boy — you s w him yesterday " *' A handsome fellow — quite after a woman's heart," laughed the priest. '* And stroking the nephew down cannot hurt the uncle." "She can hardly have had that in her mind," said Hor- necht sharply. " And the unembodied God of the Hebrews,, it would seem, is no less mindful of his own than the immortals you serve, for when he led Hotepoo to the spot the boy was very nigh unto death. And the old man would have ridden past him, for the dust had alread} " ** As you said, turned him into a lump of pollers clay. But what then ? " " Then the old man saw something golden gleam in the grey mass." " And for gold the stiffest back will bend." "Very true! So did my old man. The broad gold bracelet, glittering in the sun, saved the boy's life once more." " And the best of it is that we have got him alive." " Yes. I, too, was glad to see him open his eyes again. He quickly got better and better, and the leech says he is like a young cat and nothing will kill him. But he is in a high fever and talks all sorts of nonsense in his ravings, which even my daughter's old nurse, a woman from Ascalon, does not understand. But she believes she can distinguish Kasana's name." " A woman once more at the bottom of the mischief." " Cease jesting, reverend father," replied the warrior, and he bit his lip. " A decent widow and this downy- cheeked boy ! " " At his tender years," the priest went on, in the same tone, "full-blown roses tempt young beetles more than buds do, and in this case," he added, more gravely^ "nothing could be more fortunate. We have Joshua's 'i 1 JOSHUA, n Drought Kasana the old prophetf ely, with went on, and the i heart," iw down said Hor- Hebrews,. 1 than the the spot 1 old man £;ad} tiers clay. earn in the broad gold s life once alive." eyes again. 1 says he is ; is in a high ings, which scalon, does distinguish mischief." the warrior, this downy- in the same more than Dre gravely ive Joshua's nephew in our net, and now it is your part not to let him escape the toils." "You mean," cried the soldier, "that we are to keep him a prisoner? " " As you say." '• But you esteem his uncle highly? " " Certainlv, but higher still the State." "But this' lad " " He is a most welcome hostage. Joshua's sword was an invaluable weapon ; but if the hand that wields it is guided by that man whose power over greater men than he we know too well " " You mean Mesu, the Hebrew ? " " Joshua will wound us as deeply as heretofore our enemies." " But I heard you yourself say that he was incapable of treachery." " And I say so still ; and he has proved my words this very day. It was simply to procure his release from the oath of fealty that he this day put his head into the crocodile's jaws. But if Joshua is a lion, in Mesu he will find his tamer. That man is Egypt's arch foe, and my gall rises only to think of him." " The cries of woe within these gates are enough to- keep our hatred alive." " And yet the feeble creature who fills the throne postpones revenge and sends forth a pacificator." " With your consent, I believe ? " " Quite true," replied the priest, with a sardonic smile. " We have sent him forth to build a bridge ! A bridge, for- sooth ! The dried-up wisdom of an ancient sage recommends it, and the notion is quite after the heart of that contemptible son of a great father, who, for his part, never shrunk from swimming the wildest whirlpool, specially when revenge was in view. Well, Joshua may try to build it. If the bridge over the torrent only brings him back to us, I will give him a warm and sincere welcome. But we, who alone have any spirit in Egypt, must make it our business to see that as soon as this one man has recrossed to our shore the piers shall give way under the tread of the leader of his nation." " Yes, yes. But I fear, that we should lose the captain, if his people met the fate they deserve." •m BiMrfM 7» JOSHUA. " It may seem so." "You are \vi ;cr tlian I." "But, still, in tliis case you think lam mistaken." " How could [ iiKike so bold I " " As a member of the Council of War it is your duty to express your own opinion, and I regard it now as my part to show you whither the road leads along which you liave come so far with bandaged eyes. Listen, then, and be guided by what I tell you when it is your turn to apeak in the assembly. Ruie, the high priest, is very old." " And you already exercise half his prerogatives." "Would that he might soon lay down the rest of the burden I — Not for my own sake, I love a contest, but for the welfare of our country. It has become a deeply- rooted habit to accept as the language of wisdom all that age decides and rules; thus there are few among the councillors wh.o do not adhere to the old man, and yet his statecraft, like himself, goes only on crutches. All that is good gets lost in a fog under his weak and half-hearted guidance." " On this point you may count on my support," cried the warrior. " I will lend both hands to overthrow the dreamer on the throne and his senseless counselor." At this the prophet laid his finger to his lip in warning, went close up to his companion, and said in low, rapid accents : "I am now expected at the palace, so hearken only to this much : If Joshua effects a reconciliation, his people, the guilty with the innocent, will all return, and the guilty will be punished. Among the innocent we may reckon the whole of Joshua's tribe, the tribe of Ephraim, from old Nun, the father, down to the boy in your house." '• They may be spared ; but as Mesu is a Hebrew, what- ever is done to him " " It will not be done in the open street ; and there is never any difliculty about sowing the seeds of discord between two men whc have an equal right to rule in their own circle. I will take care tliat Joshua shall wink at the death of the other, and then Pharaoh, whether his name be Menephtah or" (and here his voice fell to a murmur) *' or Siptah, shall raise him to such a giddy height — for he deserves it — that his bewildered eye will never see any- thing we choose to hide from him. There is a dish of aty to ,y part ,1 have ^rA be )cak in t of the but for deepb'- all that ^ong the id yet his All that If-hearted ,rt," cried throw the lor." . 1 warning, o\v, rapid o hearken A, his eturn, and nt Nve may Ephraim: in your ■>y brew,what- and there is of discord rule in then- wink at the ler his name a murmur) igl,t-for he ■ver see any- ' is a dish of JOSHUA. n which no man can cease to eat who has once tasted it, and that meat we shall serve liim withal." "A dish—meat? " " Power, Hoinecht. Immense power. As governor of '<x province, or ca},'tain-genera] over all the mercenary troops in Aarsu's place, he will beware of quarreling with us. I know him. If we can but make him believe that Mesu has done him a wrong — and that overbearing man will of a certaintv irive us some ground — and if he can but be convinced that the law prescribes such punishment as we may inflict on the magician an.d the worst of his followers, he will not merely consent, but approve." " But if the embassy should fail ? " " Still he will come back to us : for he never would break an oath. But in the event of his being forcibly de- tained by Mesu, who is capable of anything, the boy will prove useful ; for Joshua loves him, his people set great store by his life, and he is a son of one of their noblest families. Pharaoh shall at any rate threaten the lad ; we, on our part, will protect him, and that will bind us more closely than ever to his uncle, and join him to those who are wroth with the king." '• Admirable ! " '* And we shall yet more certainly gain our end if we can bind him by yet another tie, and now I beseech you to be calm, for you are too fiery for your years. In short, our brother in arms, the man who saved my life, the best warrior in all the army, and who consequently must rise to the highest honors, must be your daughter's husband. Kasana loves the Hebrew — that I know from my wife." . The frown once more knit the archer's brow and he struggled painfully to be calm. He felt that he must sub- due his aversion to calling this man his son-in-law ; for indeed he liked and esteemed him, though he was averse to his nationality. He could not, indeed, refrain from muttering a curse, but his reply to the priest was calmer and more reasonable than Bale had ex])ect'^d. If Kasana y.'as so possessed by demons as to be -Irawn to this stranger, then she should have her way. But joshua, as yet, had not wooed her. ••And," he added furiously, " by the red god Set and his seventy fellows ! neither you nor any other man shall ever move nie to force my child, who has suitors by the score, on a man who, though he calls himself our JOSHUA. CHAPTER XI. .,, innumerable stars, spread floated above ^^-^^^'±1^^ watered the l>a;t«^j"'J^^, and mcaaowa ^^^^ norm vh-s ^ ^ ^'"^^^^^rhv the tHcl ha.e which -^^, ^^^'^.^^d, w^^^^^ shrouded by tne u» gj^^^ly, dtseri wu , Hkes by the isthmus. ^^^^^ "" ' ^^^i^sty grass; the deseu u\K^:y "J . viown over Lnc t>"' j ^ , ipnts of v5iic- spectacle. X>\\'° -.t ■ but it no longer tower ^^^^ spac.ous a"" - ,,hite, Um'=-«="'"'-" ""^ered in deall i„g tnbes of Shaso ^_^ ^^ ^.^^ yo^m A. 75 own g his r how r son- ib\e of ^grow s, spread e eastern i^s caUed, oC Toom. hite mists bondsmen, ^sture-\and as the eye ,orizon was the broad wind, which . the desert ^nts of Suc- e chiU hour rpt, was very ,etween i^f ah its squal^ portant buv d 3d Toom, ^i ed a suaiv.- Us g^^.^^,'^.t vexed mde^^t^ out It was St St the V'^^fl l^ay round tl)« , desert ad)oii^ outworks of the isthmus, and an Egyptian garrison dwelt within its indcstruclil)lc walls, which could easily be held against very superior numbers. This morning it might have been supposed that the sons of the desert hvid taken it by storm ; but the men and women who were so busy round the walls antl on the broad marble parajjct of the huge building were not Shasoos, but Hebrews. With shouts and demonstrations of joy they were taking i)ossession of the thousands of measures of wheat and barley, rye and doorah, lentils, dates and onions, which th'iy had found in those vast lofts, and had set to work before sunrise to empty the storehouse and ])ack the contents into sacks and ])itchers and skins, into kneading- troughs, jars antl sheets, let down from the roof by cords or carried uj) and down on ladders. The chiefs of the tribes, indeed, look no part in the work, but in spite of the early hour, children of all ages might be seen, as busy as the rest, carrying as much as they could lift in pots and bowls — their mothers' cooking vessels. Above, close to the open trap-doors of the lofts, into which the stars shone down, and round the foot of the ladders below, women held lanterns or torches to light the others at their work. Flaring pilch-brands were burning in front of the ponderous closed doors, and armed shep- herds were pacing up and down in tic light of the blaze. When, now and again, there was a sound within as of a Stone thrown, or a kick against the brass-bound door, and of threatening words in the Egyptian tongue, the Hebrews outside were ready enough with words of mockery and scorn. On the day of the harvest festival, at the hour of the first evening watch, certain swift runners had come to Succoth and had announced to the sons of Israel who dwelt there, and whose numbers were twcntyfold as great as those of the Egyptians, that they had started from Tanis early that morning, that their people were to depart thence that night, and that their kindred of Succoth were to make ready to fly with them. At this there had been great rejoicing among the Hebrews. They, like their fellow Israelites of Tanis, had assembled together that night of the new moon after the spring equinox, when the hftrvest festival began, to a solemn feast ; and the heads *l !•!: \ Ml* 1 1 ■. 76 JOSHUA. of their households had dcclarod to tncm that the day of freedom was now at hand, and that the Lord was about to lead Ihcni forth to the ])romised land. Here, as at Tanis, many had been faint-hearted and rebelHous, and others had attempted to sejiarate their lot from that of the rest and so remain behind ; but here, too, they had been carried away by the multitude. And as Aaron and Nun had addressed the people at Tan is, so here I'-lea/ar, the son of Aaron, and Nahshon and Hur, the Iieads of the tribe of Judali, iiad done the same. And Miriam, the maiden sister of Moses, had gone from house to house, and with her glowing words had lighted and fanned the llames ol enthusiasm in the hearts of the men, and persuaded the women that, with the morning's sun, a day ofuladness, plenty and freedom would dawn on them and on their children. Few had turned a deaf ear to the prophetess, and there was something majestic and commanding in the presence of this maiden, whose large black eyes, overarched by thick, dark eyebrows which ' t in the middle, seemed to read the hearts of tho.e th^y gazed on, and to awe the refractory with their grave gleam. When the feast was over each household had retired to rest with hopeful and uplifted hearts. But the next day and the following night and dawn had changed everything. It was as tliough the desert-wind had buried all courage and confidence in the sand it swept before it. The dread of wandering through the unknown had crept again into every soul, and many a one who had brandished his staff with the high spirit of enterprise, now clung obstinately to the house of his fathers, to his web tended garden plot, and to the harvest in the fields, of which no more than half was yet garnered. The Egyptian garrison in the fortified stone house had not indeed failed to observe that some unusual excitement prevailed among the Ihbrews, but they had ascribed it to the harvest feast. The commander of tlie fort had heard that >i0ses desired to lead his people forth into the deser., there to sacrifice to thjir Clo ], and lie liii''. asked for reinforcements. ])Ut he knew nothing more, for till the w'ljrning when the hot wind had arisen no Hel)rew hajl betrayed his brethren's j)uri)ose.. On that day, how- ever, as the heat oppressed them more and more, the td til n ml yos//r,i. 77 y of It tf> and Iv lot , too, nd as lis, so Hin-, And bouse ,ed and le men, svin, a )U them Lid tlv-re presence ched by ecmed to , aNVC the retired to next day yerytbing- \ courage The dread again into d Ins stall t\nate\y to vden plot' n.ore than bouse had excitement icribed it to It had heard Ih i^'^to the ha<\ ashed hore. for tiU lat day, ho^^ more, tw greater grew the dread of the territlea people of inarching ever onward ihrougli the scorching sandy and waterless waste. This fearful day was hut i foretaste of what lay before tlicm, and when toward midday the dnst cloud was yet dense, and the air more suffocating, a Hebrew dealer, from whom the l.gyplian soldiers would purchase small wares, stole into the storehouse and instigated the captain to hinder his fellow IL .mcv/s from rushing to destruction. F^vcn ;.'non<: the better sf); i tlie Noicc of discontent had been loud. Izchar and Michael and their sons, who dis- liked the iK)wer of Moses and Aaron, had gone from one lO another and tried to incite them to call die elders together again before they set forth, and ask them whether it would not be wiser to make terms with the Egyptians. While these malcontents had succeeded in assembling many followers, and the iraitor hvid gone to die captain of the Egyptian garrison, two more runners had come in with a message to say that t!ie mult "tude of the Hebrew fugitives would arrive at Succoth between midnight and dawn. Breathless and speechless, bathed in sweat ind bleed- ing at the mouth, the elder of the two messengers dropped on the threshold of the house of Aminadab where Miriam just now was dwelling. 'I'he exhausted men had to be revived with wine and food before even the less weary one could speak coherently ; and dien, in a husky voice, but overflowing with thankfulness and enthusiasm, he had told all that had happened at their departing, .cud how that the God of their fathers had filled all hearts with His spirit, and infused fresh confidence into the most faint-hearted. Miriam had listened with flashing e)es to this inspiring talc^ and then, flinging her veil about her head, she bade the servants of the house, who had collected about the runners, to gather all the people together under the syca- more, whose broad boughs, the growth of a thousand years, sheltered a wide space from the scorching sun. The hot wind was still blowing, but the glad tidings seemed to have broken it power over the spirits of men, and thousands had come pouring out to assemble under tile sycamore. Miriam gave her hand to Eleazar, the son of her brother Aaron, sprang on to the bench which stood close to the huge, hollow trunk of the tree, and in a loud voice prayed to the Lord, raising her hands and eyes to Heaven, as though in ecstasy her eyes beheld Him. ^is^atm 78 jo.^nrA. Then she bade the messenger speak, and when he had once more declared all that had befallen in Zoan, a loud cry went up from the multitude. Then Eleazar, the son of Aaron, described in glowing words all that the T.ord had done f(jr his people and had iiromised to them and their children, and their children's children. Kvcrv word from the speaker's eager lips had fallen on the hearts of his hearers like the fresh dew of morning (»n parched grass. The believers had shouted greeting to him and to Miriam, and the faint-hearted had found new w in.L',s of hope. Izeharand Michael and their folhwers nuirmurcd no more ; nay, most of them had caught the general ei: thusiasm, and when presently a Hebrew soldier of the garrison stole out from the storehouse and revcal'.d to them that his chief had been informed of what was going forward. Eleazar, Nahshon, llur and some others had held a council with the shepherds present, and had urged them in fiery language to show now that they were men and not afraid to fight, with God's mighty helj), for their nation and its freedom. There was no lack of axes, staves, sickles and brazen pikes, of heavy poles and slings, the shepheids' weajjons against the beasts of the desert, though of bows and arrows they had none. A strong force of powerful herdsmen had collected round Hur, and they at once had marched upon the Egyptian overseers who were in author- ity over some hundreds of Hebrew bondsmen toiling at the earthworks. With the cry, " They are coming ! Down with the o|)- pressors ! The Lord our God is our captain ! " they threw themselves on the Libyan guard, scattered them abroad and released the Hebrew laborers and stone-hcwers. The noble Nahshon had set the example of clas])in_t' one of the hapless serfs as a brother to his heart, and then the others embraced the men they had set free, and thus the she lit: " They are coming! The Lord God of our fathers is our captain ! " rang out far and wide. When at last the hand- ful of shepherds had swollen to a thousand Hur had led them on to meet the Egyptian warriors, whose numbeis were far inferior. The garrison, indeed, was but a handful ; the Hebrew host was now beyond counting. . The Egyptian archers had shot a flight of arrows, and the slings of the stalwart Hebrews had sent a shower 01 f tr yosnuA, 79 had loutl ion of d bad t ibeir lien on ■ vo bim ivnuii'd ieva\ <^» r of t^ic .1 to Ibcn-i fovwavd a coun ci\ n m b<-0, not afraid on and Us icUcs and sbepbeids gh of bows =( povverfu once bad In auvbor- toiling av witb ibe ov- tbey tl^r^^. btm abroad cwers. y^^ ;, one of d^e ■n tbe otbers 18 tbe she Alt. fathers is out last the hand^ Hur bad kd ,osc num\ici^ the Hebvov lof arrows, and K a shower d deadly i)cl)bl(s among the foremost of the foo, when a trumpet-call was heard calling the parly of soUlk-rs hack into the shelter of the scarped walls an'l stout door-;. 'I'he Egyptian chief had judged the Hebrew force too great, and his first duty was to hold the fort till reinforcements should arrive. IJutlliirhad not been content with this first victory. Success Iiad fniuud ihe courage of lii-. followers as a new breeze fans a sinoldering lire; whenever an I'-gNptian showed himself on the roof of the storehouse a smf)oth pebble hit him sharply from ih.-.' sling of a shepherd marks- man. IJy Nahs'ion's orders hulders were l)roii:.:lit out. In an instant the besiegers were swnrming up the building on all sides, and after a short and bloodless struj.',gle the stones were in the hands of t!ie Hebrews. The iv;yi)tians could only keep i)ossession of the adjoining stronghold. Meanwhile the wind had fallen. The more furious of the released bondsmen had piled straw, timber and brusliwood before the door of the little fort into which the l"/;yplians had ivtirerl, and they could without difficulty have destroyed the foe to the last man by fire ; but Hur, Nahshon and the other wiser heads among the Hebrews had not i^ermitted the destruction of the victuals laid up in the great store- house It had, indeed, been no easy matter to kcej) the younger men among the oppressed serfs from this deed of \'engeance ; but they all belonged to some family in the settlement, and .as Hiir's prohibition was supported by the commands of their parents, they were soon not merely pacified but ready to help in distributing the contents of the granaries among the households, and in loading them into carts or on to beasts of burden, to be carried off by the fugitives. All this took ])lace by the flaming light of torches, and it ■$oon had assumed the character of an orgie, for neither Nahshon nor Elcazar had been able to hinder the men and women from opening the wine skins and jars. However, they succeeded in saving the larger part of the precious booty for the time of need, and although there, indeed, too many were drunk, the strong juice of the grape and their .glee at securing so much plunder moved the multitude to thankfulness. When at length Elenzar went among them ■once more to speak to them of the Promised Land they yere ready to listen to him with uplifted hearts, and joined in a hymn of praise started b}' Miriam. •\\^ itHtSm So JOSIIIW. I ill I As in Zoan the spirit of the Lord had ta!!cn c i thj people ill the liour of their departing, so now in Succoth. When some ancient men ar'l women who had hidden them- selves in the tem}jle of Zoan heard the song of triumpli, the\' caniL forth and joined the rest, and packed up their possessions with as much glad hope and confidence in the God of their fathers as if thev had never murmured at departing. As the stars faded, joy and excitement increased. Men and women went out in troops on the road to Tanis to meet their brethren. Many a father led his youthful son by the hand, mai,y a mother' carried her infant on her arm : for there were kindred to greet in the coming multitude, and this day must bring some moments of solemn joy in which all who were near and dear must share, and which even the youngest child would remember when he himself had children and grandchildren. None sought h.'s bed in the tent, hut or houses, for every hand »vas needed to finish the work of packing. The crowd of toilers in the storehouse had diminished, and most house- holds were furnished with as much food as they could carry away. In front of the tents and hovels men and women, ready to depart, were camping round hastily lighted fires, and in the farm yards ilic cattle were being driven together, and such beasts and sheep as were unfit to march were at once slaughtered. Outside many of the liouses men plied the axe and hammer, and the sound of sawing was heard, for litters and couches had to be hastily constructed for the sick and feeble. Here, again, chariots and wagons were still being loaded, and husbands had no small trouble with their wives ; for it is always hard to forfeit a possession, be it great or small, and a woman's heart often clings more fondly to some worthless trifle than to the most precious object she owns. When Rebecca was eager to carry away the roughly-made cradle in which her infant died rather than the beautiful ebony chest inlaid with ivory which her husband had taken in pledge from an Egyptian, who could blame her? Lights shone from every window and tent door, and torches or lanterns blazed from the roof of all the better dwellings to welcome the coming host. At the feast which had been held on the night of the harvest festival not a table had lacked its lamb roast with yOSHUA. 8i :otb. hem- their n tbe ed at Men 3 meet by the m: for k, and ^ which ;ven the elf had or every ic crowd stbouse- uld carry ;s n, ready , and in ther, and e at once ^,Ued the heard, for d for the gons were )ubk witb possession, Vingsmore it precious arrv away ied ratbcr which her who couid and tent iofofaUthe light of the roast wim fire, but in this hour of waiting the housewives again offered such food as they had ready. The narrow street of the little town was alive with stir; the waning stars had never before looked down on such joyful faces, such briglit and eager eyes, such beaming looks of hope and hai)py faith. CHAPTER XII. Whkn morning dawned all those who had not already gone forth to greet the wanderers were gatliered on the roof of one of the largest house? in Succotli, where the coming Hebrews were to make ih^.ir first long halt. Hurrying on before tliem fleet-footed men and boys, one after another, arrived in the town. Aminadab's house was their goal. It consisted of two buildings, one of which was inhabited by N;ihshon, the son of tlie owner, and his family. In tlie other and larger part, besides the master of the house and his wife, his son-in-law, Aaron, dwelt with his wife, children and grandchildren, and also Miriam. The old man, a prince of the tribe, who had given over the duties connected with his i)Osition to his son Nahshon, stretched out his trembling hands toward each messenger, and listened to his story with sparkling eyes that w^re nearly blmded by tears. He had persuaded his old wife to sit in the armchair in which she was to be carried after their people, so that she might become accustomed to it, and for the same reason he was reclining in his. When the old woman heard the messengers announce that the glorious future that had been promised the people was now within reach, her eyes sought her husband and she cried : "Aye through Moses!" For she held the brother of her daughter's husband in high esteem, and it • pleased her to see his prophecies fulfilled. She looked ..also with pride on Aaron, her son-in-law: but above all pshe loved Eleazar. her grandson, in whom she looked for- Iward to the development of a second Moses. She had pfbund Miriam, after the death of her parents, a very wel- iiiCome house companion. But the warm-hearted old folks' affection for the grave young maid never grew to parental tenderness, and Elisheba, Aaron's busy wife, would not fi ■'i^a I . vM M ill' ""mI' 'ill! ■, ^i iji;il!| liliffijiiili'iill ffi"l! i share the cares of the great household with Miriam ; nor did their son Nahshon's wife need her help, for she, indeed, lived with her nearest of kin under their own roof. But the old people were gratef;:l to Miriam for her care of their grandchild, Milcah, the daughter of Aaron and Elisheba, whom a great misfortune had clinngcd from a happy child into a melancholy woman, for whom all joy was dead. A few days after her marriage with a beloved husband he had allowed himself, in a fit of wrath, to lift his hand against an Egyptian tax-gatherer, who, when Pharaoh was passirg eastward by Saccoih, wanted to drive off a large herd of his finest oxen for the kitchen of the lord of two worlds. I» consequencj cf tliis self-redress the unfortunate man had b-en taken as a State ])risoner to work in the mines, and it was well known that the convict there must 'XMish, body and soul, of torturing overwork. Through the inflicnce of Nun, Joshua's f;ithcr, the prisoner's wife and house ho:d were spared from sharing this punishment. She, however, pined away more and more, and the only one who under- stood the way to rouse the pale, silent wife from her brooding was Miriam. To her had the deserted W( man attached herself, and she followed Miriam where she ] lac- ticed the medical knowledge that she hrd learned, and cariied remedies and ahns into the huts of the poor. The last messengers, whom Aminadab and his wife re- ceived on the roof, jjainted in dark colors the pain and mise- ry of wandering of which he had been a witness, but when a soft-hearted creature among them wept alcud at the great sufferings the women and children had undergone during the gale from the desert, and gloomily foretold f c r th,e future horrors not less than those he so vividly remembered, the old man spoke words of comfort to him, rtmirdirg him of the almighty power of God. and of the force cf habit, which would also help them. His wrinkled face exj lessed sin- cere hope, whereas in Miriam's beautiful but stern features there was little expression of the religious trust of whick youth usually has more than age. While the messengers went and carne she did not stir from the side of the old people, ai^d left it to her sister-in- law, Elisheba. and her serving maids to give refreshments to the f-itigued wanderers. She listened to them intently and wit' deep-drawn breath, though it appeared to ler that aii she learned forbode trouble. For she knew that Ah ^r; taJ it •trd /«a| yOSHUA. \or ed. But hctr eba, . A ist an M ofVas « ^. I» n V.ad ■s, ai^d i.bocly flv.crxe ascbo'.d oNvevcr, ) under- cB^ bet I \v( ma» ibcivac^ :.cd, and )0V. s wife TC- and mise- lAit wbc» tbc gieat tV.e future ,crcd, tbe ^.g bitri of >b\t, ^^bich lessed sin- ^■11 features ^t of wbicia lid rio^ ^^^^ .r sister-in- .fresbmerts L, mtcrt.y [red to bet knew t^at only those who were attached to her brothers, the leaders of the people, would have found their way into the house that sheltered Aaron, Now and then she would ask a question, as well as the old man, and as she spoke the messengers, who heard her voice for the first time, looked up at her in surprise, for it was indeed sweet, though singularly deep. After several runners had assured her, in answer to hef inquiry, that Joshua, the son of Nun, had not come with the others, she d'"opped her hca*l, and asked no more, until pale Milcah, who followed her everywhere, cast a besv:eching looked from her black eyes and whispered " Reuben,'' the name of her imprisoned husband. Then the young girl kissed the lonely child and looked at her as tho.ig'i she had neglected somethip.g, and asked the mes- sen^ -s with ])ressing eagerness if they had heard anything of Reuben, who had been carried away to the mines. But onlv one had lieard from a released criminal that Milcah's husband was alive in the copper mines in the dis- trict of Beck, near I\It. Sinai. The news encouraged the young prophetess to assure Milcah with vivid warmth that when ihe pcojjle should march eastward they would cer- tainly go to the mines to release the captive Hebrews wh ) were there. These were good words, and Milcah, who was leaning oa the iMcast of her comforter, would gladly have heard more, but those who were looking out into the distance from Aniinadab's roof were now in great excitement. From the north came a dark cloud, and directly after a wonderful muttering, then a loud roar, and lastly a thousand-voiced cry and shout, with bellowing, neighing and bleating, su'.:h AS b.ad never been heard before — and the multitudinous ran 1 many-voiced mass of men and herds came rolling along in that interminable stream which the a ;trologcr's grandson, when watching from the temp'lo at Tanis, had taken for the serpent from the nether world. ^ Even now, by tlie light of dawn, it was easy to mistake |t for an army of disembodied si;irits driven from the Stronghold of the dead ; for a pale grey column of dust teaching to the blue heavens swej^t before them, and no single figure could be distinguished among the immense fiwaiming, noisy throng wliich was enveloped in the cloud. Every now and again tiie sunbeams caught the metal point -\ t M JOS Hi' A. !; a lance or of . brass «-;i^n^n!'^l' '-i'^^T^ ?oud shout of one vouccouUUcK j^^^^, ,.^^^,,| iS^^^^n^lrir^onlofwhiCW----- '^:::::X «,>, on. ana ^^ ^^^ :x^- ,v.ilca like a mountain lake vvl en. ' .^. u.c nanow seen in the bUue °Vn a ilk 'le tent after ten wa. s read, cows fetwi';'l-,''^'f,„ , f^es of women, carrymg v^' ter and fnes lighted, 1 « ^'^ ,,; „■„„ easily and [as on d-eir heads which they bala. ^^^^ ^^.^^ |^^,^,„j ^le bcanlifnllyeurved arms, l''^^;^,';" ;,.,,,,st canal. , old yc^'"<"'--' "■■ "^"^ ''^".\ .? work d y a humped ox turned ° 'To-day, as on every "' J" ^^ ^'^,,t ind that the owner o the water wheel. It '"'8at<-'l " ^j,^ ^,^„,. hat n. was a good hour ^^f^^^tX^^ -:i:l:«oS^es3t iw^^ --:tbt^---"-'^«'"'^"^"7 away her eyes. „ ,enly all she saw, for u She dared not tell "« °'", , hopefulness. . , „ould have destroyed his ^^'^^^^ ^..^or of an inspia^ Vi ' 1 yosiii \i. H he vs. vact 1)1" ;d ainl . \)ioad, proccs- Ucie U^c Acd. AC cUnul , ere to ^>«^ ^nd asses, Sahsbon's Ics ; po^^^ 3 driven U) 1 carryi'^'f^ eas'ly and behind d^^' d ox turned ^-^^. owner ot ', slave that no one bin- .as used u;- adsit-wonw L crowd bad .described to UK enough o •,elow. beheld have turned jhe saw, for ii )f an inspivc^^ yesterday '^}^^ had certainly IS and heanub words no one else could comprehend. This generally took place in her dreams, but also in lonely hours when she fixed her mind in meditation ow the ])ast and the future. 'Die message from the isLost J ligh whic.i Kphraim had carr'' 1 to Joshua in her name had couk W> her from invisible lips as she sat under tiie syca.more, thinking; of the exfxlus, and of the man she had lovxl from her child- hood ; and this very morning, between midnight and dawr., as she l.iy under the venerable tree, overpowered by fatigue, it seemed to her that she had again heard the same voice. The words had vanished from her mind as she woke, but she knew that they liad been sad and ominous. Vague as the warning liad been, it still haunted her painfully, and the ciy whicii ( aine up from the ])lain was ccrtauily no shout of joy at liaving lia|)iuly reached their l)rethren and the fust stage of their wanderings, as the old man at her side believed; nay, it was the angry cry of fierce, ungoverned men wrangling and fighting for a jjleasant spot in the meadow whereon to pitch their tents, or for a good watering j>lace for their beasts by the well or on the banks of the rivulets. Rage, disap]H)intme:U and despair were heard in that cry ; and presently, looking round for the spot whence it rose the loudest, she beheld a woman's corpse borne along by some bondsmen on a sheet oi tent cloth, and a pale babe, touched by the finger of dea'h, which its father, a wild-looking fellow, carried in one arm, whilv he shook his clenched left hand, which was free, with threatening gestures in the direction of her brothers. And in a moment she saw an old man, bent with hard labor, lift up his hand against Moses, whom he would have struck to the ground if others had not dragged him away. She could no longer bear to stay on the roof. Pale and panting she Hew out to the camp. Milcah followed her closely, and wherever they met people belonging to Sue- coth they were greeted with respect. The people of Zoan, and those of Pha-gos, whom they met in the way, did not know Miriam ; still, the prophetess' tall figure and noble dignity made them move aside for her, or reply to her questions. Then she heard terrible and evil tidings, for tlie multi- tude which had set forth so joyfully on the first day had <:rept along in dejection and woe on the .second. The hot i I If i :|» J'W liiii'MilillliJi ill P: I I I ll 16 JOSHUA. wind had broken the spirit and strength of mr'^y who hacf started in high health, and other siqk folks esides the bondsman's wife and infant had fallen sick oi /ever from the choking dust and scorching heat, and the speaker pointed to a procession making its way to the Hebrew burying place of Succoth. Nor were those who were being borne to the rest whence there is no return women and children only, or such as their kindred had brought away sick rather than leave them behind ; but likewise men, who only yesterday had been strong, and who had either sunk ■nder too heavy a burden or had heedlessly exposed them- selves to the sun's rays as they drove their herds onward. In one tent Miriam found a young mother, who lay trembling with fever, and she bade Milcah go fetch her case of medicines. The forlorn wife gladly and quickly departed on this errand. On her way she stopi)ed many a passer-by to inquire timidly for her captive husband, but she could get no news of him. Miriam, however, learned from Nun, Joshua's father, thatEliab, thefreedman hehad left behind, had sent him word that his son was ready to- follow his people. She also heard that Ephraim had been hurt and had found shelter in Joshua's tent. Was the lad seriously ill, or vhat could it be that detained his uncle in Tanis ? The question filled Miriam's heart with fresh anxiety, yet she dispensed help and com- fort wherever it was possible with unflagging energy. Old Nun's hearty greeting had cheered her, and no more stalwart, kind, or more lovable old man could be imagined. The mere sight of his noble head with its thick, snow-white hair, and beard, and the bright eyes which sparkled with youthful fire in the handsome face, had done her good, and when he expressed his joy at seeing her once more in his yivid and winning manner, pressing her to his heart and kissing her brow, : he told him that she had bidden his son, in the name of the Lord, henceforth to bear the name of Joshua, and had called upon him to be reunited to his people and to be the captain of their host. Then she felt, indeed, as though she had found a father in the place of him she had lost, and applied herself with renewed vigor to the stern duties v.'hich called her from every side. Nor was it a small effort to the lofty-minded maiden to devote herself with loving kindness to her fellow-creature!), wbosc wild and coarse demeanor pained her soul. The JOSHUA, •r ) bad s the from )eakct ebrcw ; being ;n and t away n, who i\ sunk \ them' )nward. vho lay ^ itch her qulcUy sd many ,and, but | , learned m he had ready to- had been t be that , Miviam'i* and com- |d no more imaguied. mow-white jkled with good, and loie in his heart and lenhisson, the name of .lited to his [len she feU, he place of icwed vigor : side. |d maiden to v-crcatureb, soul. The women, indeed, were glad of help, but to the men, who had grown up under the overseer's wliip, modesty and consideration were unknown. Their minds were as savage as their manners. As soon as they knew who she was they reviled her because her brother had tempted them forth to leave endurable woes and rush to a fearful f;ite ; and as she heard their curses and blaspheming, and saw the fierce black eyes that glittcr«d in those brown faces all hung about with rough, curling black hair and beard, her heart shrank within her. And yet she was able to con- trol her fear and aversion ; her pulses throbbed and she was prepared for the worst, yet she did but commend the men who were so repulsive to lier to the God of their fathers and His promises, though womanly weakness prompted her to flee. Now, indeed, she understood wliat the sad, warning Yoice forboded which she had heard under the sycamore, and as she stood by the bed of a young mother sick unto death she lifted up her hands and heart to the Most Iligh, and made a vow that she would dedicate all her powers to fight against the faint-hearted want of faith and the wild insubordination which threatened to bring her people into great straits. The Lord Almighty had promised them a fair land, and the short-sighted p^ide of a few erring ones should not cheat them of it. And God himself could hardly be wroth with a race which was content so long as the bodies were supplied with the food they needed, and which had endured scorn and blows as unresistingly as cattle. The multitude did not yet understand that they must live through the night of their present woes to be worthy of the day which awaited them. Her medicines seemed to relieve the sick woman, and jhe quitted the tent in revived spirits to seek her bro- thex's. In the camp matters were no better, and again she wit- nessed many scenes which shocked her soul and made her regret that she had brought with her the tender-hearted Milcah. Certain evil-doers among the bondsmen, who had laid hands on the cattle and goods of others, had been caught and tied up to a palm tree 3 and the ravens which had followed the tribes, and had found ample food by the way, were already croaking greedily round the hastily contrived «allows tree. I i'li ti!i I I JOSHUA, None knew who was judge or executioner of the sentence ; but the owners wlio were assisting in the deed thought themselves fully justified and gloried in it. With hasty steps and averted head, Miriam drew the trembling Milcah away and placed her in the charge of her uncle, Nahshon, to be conducted home. Nahshon was just part- ing from the man who shared with him the rank of prince of the tribe of Judah. This was that same Hur who had won the first victory against the Egyptians at the head of the shei)herds, and he now led the maiden with happy pride toward a man and a youth — his son and [grandson. They had both been in the service of the Egyptians, and at Memphis had worked as goldsmiths and brass founders to Pharaoh. The elder, by reason of his skill, had received the name of Uri, or the Great ; and the son of this father, Hur's grandson, Bezalecl, was said to be Xi jre gifted even than his father, though as yet hardly more than a youth. Hur gazed at his child and grandchild with justifiable pride, for although they had both risen to high esteen among the Egyptians they had followed without demur at their father's bidding, leaving behind them much to which their hearts clung, and which bound them to Memphis, to join the wandering people and share their uncertain fate. Miriam warmly greeted the newcomers, and the men before her, representatives of three generations, afforded a picture on which no kindly eye could fail to rest with pleasure. The grandfather was nigh on threescore, but. although there was much silver mingled with his ebony black hair, he still held himself as straight as a young man, and his thin, sharply-cut features revealed an unbending determination, which sufficiently accounted for the readi- ness with which his son and grandson had obeyed his call. Uri, too, was a well-grown man, and Bezaleel a lad in whom it could be seen that he had made good use of his nineteen years, and could already stand firmly on his own feet. His artist's eye si)arkled with a peculiar light, and when presently he and his father took leave of Miriam to pay their respects to Caleb, their grandfather and greatgrand- fatlier, slie heartily congratulated Hur, her brother's truest friend, on having such descendants to keep up the noble race. At this Hur, taking her hand, exclaimed with a grateful fervor, which sprang from his heart, and which was usually ■:f «t J'el liel yi\\ i il !i JOSHUA. 89 the iecd rVilh ncle, part- )rincc bad cad of happy ndscn. and at ders to eceived i father, ed even :^ youth. Ls titrable 1 esteen demur at to which mphis, to itaui fate. the men , afforded rest with score, buv ebony lung man, .mbending the readi- ed his call. ^d in whom ,is nineteep feet. His and when ■iam to pay rveatgrand- dier's truest |p the noble Ih a grateful was usually foreign to the stern, imperious nature of this chief of an unruly tribe of lierdsmen : '' Vcs, they have ever been good and true arul dutiful. God hath protected them and granted me to see this joyful day. Now it lies with you to make it a high feast day. You must long since have seen that my eye was ever on you. and that you are dear to my heart. I am a man, and you as a woman are pledged to do all that is best for the peojjle and their wel- hxre, and that constitutes a bond between us. But I would fain be bound to you by a yet stronger tie, and whereas your parents are dead, and I cannot go to Amram with the bride gift in my hand and pay him for you, I ask you of yourself in marriage, noble maiden. And before you say me yea or nay let me tell you that my son and grandson are ready to honor you as the head of our house ;is they honor me, and that I have your brother's permission to approach you as a suitor." Miriam had listened to this proposal in speechless sur- prise. She held the man who pleaded so warmly in high esteem, and was well inclined towarc him. Notwithstand- ing his ripe age he stood before her in all the strength of manliood and lofty dignity, and the beseeching of his eyes, more wont to command, went to her soul. But she looked for another with ardent longing, and her only rejjly was a regretful shake of the head. But this man, the head of his tribe, v/ho was accus- tomed to go straight to the end of anything he had resolved upon, was not deterred by this silent rejection, and went on more fervently than before : '' Do not in one moment overthrow the clierished hopes of many years ! Is it my age that repels you ? " And once more Miriam shook her head. But Hur ^^Again spoke : "That, indeed, was what troubled me, although in Strength and vigor I could measure myself against many a Jrounger man. And if you could but overlook your suitor's %x(iy liairs you might perhaps bring yourself to consider his Jrecpicst, Of the truth and devotion of my suit I will say iiothing. No man sues to a woman at my age unless his heart urges with great power. V>vX th.ere is another thing "Whicli to me seems of no less woi;:]U. I would fain, as [ liave said, take you home to my house. Ther it ^;ianfls ; It is strong and roomy enough j but from to-morrow a lif, (1 1 1 Ml I I f» JOSHUA, lent must be our roof, a camp our dwelling place, and wild deeds will be done there. Look only on the hapless creatures they have bound to that palm tree. There is no judge to try the accused : tlie hasty impulse of the people is their only law. No one is secure even of his life, least •f all a woman, however strong she may feel herself, who casts in her lot with those against whom the multitude niarmur. Your parents are dead, your brothers cannot protect you, and if the multitude should lay hands on them the stone over which you hoped to cross the flood will drag you to the bottom." " And if I were your wife, drag you with me," replied Miriam, iind her thick, black brows were gloomily knit. '* That danger I am prei)ared to face," answered Hur. *'Our lot is in the hands of the Lord \ my faith is as firm as yours, and behind me stands the whole tribe of Judah, which follows me and Nahshon as a flock follows the shepherd. Old Nun and the Ephraimites are faithful to ms, and if it came to the worst it would be our duty to perish as God wills, or, after reaching the Promised Land, to wait in patience for our latter end in faithful union, in wealth and power." At this Miriam looked him full and fearlessly in the eyes, and laid her hand on his arm, saying : " Such words are worthy of the man I have revered from my childhood, the father of such sons. Yet I cannot lie your wife." " You cannot ? " " Nay, my lord, I cannot." " A hard saying, but I must be content," replied Hur, and he bowed his head sadly. But Miriam went on : " Nay, Hur, you have a right to ask the reason of my refusal, and inasmuch as I honor you I owe you the simple truth. My heart is set on another man of our people. I first saw him while I was but a child. Like your son and grandson, he joined himself to the Egyptians. But he, like them, has heard the call of God and of his father, and if he, like Uri and Bezaleel, has obeyed them, and still desires to have me to wife, I will go to him if it be the Lord's will, whom I serve and who grants me of His grace lo hear His voice. But I will ever think thankfully of jrou." As she spoke the girl's large eyes glistened through f JOSHUA, replied knit, ed Hur. s as firm f Judah, lows the aithful to ir duty to sed Land, union, "^ sly i"t the re revered ;t 1 cannot plied Hur, lason of tny 1 the simple I people. 1 ^ lour son ana IS. But he, , father, and ^m, and sull ,, if it be the of His grace thankfully o >ned through tears, and her grey-haired suitor's foice qniyered as he asked her shyly and hesitatingly : " But if the man you wait for — I do not seek to know kis name — if he turns a deaf car to the call that has p;onc fcrth to him, if he refuses to throw in his lot vs.th the •ncertain lot of his nation? " '• That can never be ! " cried Mirram \ but a cold chil{ fan through her veins, as Hur exclaimed : " There is no never, no certainty save with God. And if in spite of your high faith, things fall out other than you expect — if the Lord deny you the desire which first grew up in your heart when you were yet but a foolish ehild?" •* Then will He show me the right way by which He kith led me until now." " Well, well," said Hur, •' build on that foundation, and if the man of your choice is worthy of you pnd becomes your husband my soul shall rejoice without envy, if the Lord shall bless your union. But if, indeed, God wills it otherwise, and you shall crave a strong arm on which to Jean, here am I. The heart and the tent of Hur will be •ver open to you." He hurried away. Miriam gazed after him, lost in thought, till the proud and princely figure was out of sight. Then she made her way back toward the home of hei protectors ; but as she crossed the way leading to Tanis •he paused to look northward. The dust was laid and the road could be traced far into the distance \ but he, the one who should be riding toward her and toward his people, was not in sight. It was with a heavy sigh and drooping head that she went on her way, and the sound fi her brother Moses, deep voice made her start as she leached the sycamore. 'T- CHAPTER XHL Aaron and Eleazar in stirring words had reminded the ■aurmuring disheartened people of the might and promises of their God. Those who had stretched themselves out f^ictly to their rest, after being refreshed by drink and food, 1 I IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) A 1.0 I.I IM 112.5 5C 1^ lii Illll 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 -« 6" - ► V2 ^ /a ^i ^l y /^ Photographic Sciences Corporation #> #? -IFl. ^"^^ >> 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 873-4503 €■ ?> ;:!i| * :iili ft JOSHUA, found their lost confidence revived. The freed bonds- men remeinbered the cruel slavery and degrading blows from which they had escaped, acknowledging, as the others did, that it was by God's providence tliat Pharaoh was not i)ursuing them. The ricli supplies, which were still being distributed from the plundered storehouse, con- tributed not a little to reanimate their courage, and the serfs and lepers — for they, for the most part, had marched forth also, and were resting outside the camp — in short, all those for whose maintenance Pharaoh had provided, knew that for some time they were secure from need and want. Nevertheless there was no lack of discontented spirits, and now and then, without any one knowing who had started the question, it was asked if it would not be wiser to turn back and trust to Pharaoh's forgiveness. Those who uttered it did so secretly, and had often to take a sharp or threatening answer. Miriam had come out to meet her brothers and shared their anxiety. How quickly had the spirit of the people been broken in this short march by the hot desert wind ! How discontented, how distrustful, how hostile they had shown themselves at the very first adversity. How unbridled in following their own wild impulses ! When they had been Jled together for prayer on the way, a short time before sunrise, some had turned toward the sun as it rose in the east, some had pulled out images of the gods which they had brought with them, and others again had fixed their eyes on the acacia trees by the road, which were regarded as sacred to many of the provinces by the Nile. What, indeed, could they know of the God who had commanded them to leave so much behind them and to carry such a burden ? Many of them were even now quite disheartened, and as yet they had faced no real danger, for Moses had purposed to lead his people by the direct road to Philistia into the Promised Land of Pales- tine, but their demeanor forced him to give up this place and to think of another. In order to reach the highway which connected Asia and Africa, it was necessary to pass over the isthmus which really divides rather than it unites the two conti- nents ; but it was well defended from invaders, and the way was secure from fugitives, partly by natural and partly by artificial obstacles. A succession of deep lakes yOSHUA. n )ond8- blows as the laraoh [\ were e, con- Lud the larched 1 short, ovidcd, ^ed and ntented ing who I not bt ;iveness. 1 to take i shared e people irt wind ! they had r. How broke the level land, and where these did not check the wanderers' march, strong fortifications towered up in which lay Egyptian troops ready to figlu. Khetam, or, as tlie IsraeHtes called it, Elham, was the name of this range of forts, and the nearest and strongest could be reached in a few hours by the tribes who were marching from Succoth. With the people full of the spirit of their God, inspired and prepared for the worst, freed from their chains and rejoicing in their newly gained liberty, rushing along toward the Promised Land, Moses and the other leaders with him had intended that, like a mountain torrent burst- ing through dams and sluices, they should annihilate and destroy all who came in their way. With this inspirited throng, whose bold advances might achieve the highest triumphs, and to whom cowardly retreat could have meant nothing but death and destruction, they had expected to overthrow the works of the Etham frontier like a pile f brushwood. But now that a few short hours of weariness and suffering had quenched the fire in their souls, now that on every side could be seen for every hapj)y, elated man, two indifferent and five discontented or frightened, the storming of the Etham lines would have cost streams of blood and wou'd have risked all that they had already gained. The conquest of ihe little garrison in the storehouse at Pithom happened under such favorable circumstances as liiey could not expect to occur again, and so the original ]ilan had to be altered and an attempt made to get round the fortress. Instead of marching north-east the people turned toward the south. These things were discussed under the sycamore tree in front of Aminadab's house, and Miriam listened, a mute witness. When the men held counsel, the women, and she also, had to be silent, but she found it hard to hold her peace when they came to the conclusion that they must avoid attacking the forts, even if Joshua, the man skilled in war and chosen by the Lord Himself to be the sword of Jeho- vah, should return. "Of what avail is the bravest leader when there is no army to obey him ? " cried Nahshon, the son of Amina- dab, and the rest had been of his opinion. ! m .f4 JOSHUA, When at length the assembled elders parted Moses took leave of his sister with brotherly tenderneiis. She knew that he had it in his mind to go forth into fresh dangers, iind iu the modest way she always used when she ventured to speak to the man who, in body and mind, was so far above all others, she told him of her fears. He looked her in the lace with kindly reproof, and with right l,an4 pointed to heaven. She understood him, and kissed his hand wilh grateful warmth, saying: "Thou art under the shield of the Most High, a' d I fear no longer." He pressed his lips to her brow, and taking her tablets from her, wrote on them a few words and cast ihem int9 the lr;llow stem of the sycamore. '' For Hosea — nay, for Joshua," said he, " if he should come while I am absent. The Lord hath great tilings for him to do when he shall have learned to trust in Him rather than i:i the mighty ones of the earth." He quitted her; but Aaron, who, as being the elder, was the head of the family, remained with Miriam ar.d told her that a worthy man had asked for her to wife ; she turned pale and answered : " I know it." He looked her in the face much surprised, and went o« in a tone of grave warning : " It must be as you will, but it would be well that yoi should reflect that your heart belongs to God and to your people ; the man whom you marry must be as ready as yourself to serve them both, for two become one when they are wed, and if the highest aim of one is as nought t* the other they are no more one, but two. The voice of the senses which called them together is presently silent, and what remains is a gulf betwi.en them.'" AVith these words he left her, and she, too, turned to quit the assembly, for perhaps now, on the eve cf their departing, she mi:;ht be needed in the house cf which fhe was an inmate ; but a new incident arose to keep her by the sycamore, as if she were bound and fettered to it. What could the ])ncl;ing matter, and the care for perish- able treasure and worldly goods, when questions here were raised which stirred her whole soul. There was Elishcba, Nahshon's wife, and any housewife or slave woman could do the home work ; hrre there were other matters to de- cide, the -weal or woe of the nation. Certain men of the better sort from among the people JOSHUA. ook new gcis, urea io far (okcd l,att4 dhis cr the nblets m into shoulA ngs for [I rather : eUkr, and told ife ; she went om that yo» 1 to your ready as ne Nvhea nought to voice of ■ly silent, turned to cf their 1,'hich jhe bp her by lio it. Dr perish- hicre were lElishcba, jian could lers to de- ttie people had by this time joined themselves to the elders under the sycamore, but Hur had depared with Moses. Now Uri, the son of Hur, came into the group. He, as a metal worker, but just come from Egypt, had at Mem- phis had dealings with many about the court, and he had heard that the king would be willing to relieve the Hebrews of their heaviest burdens, and to grant them new privi- leges, if only M'^scs would entreat the God he served to be favorable to Pharaoh, and persuade the people to retura so soon as they shuuld have sacrificed in the desert. So the assembly now proceeded to discuss whether envoysj should not be sen* to Tanis to treat once more with the " High Gate." This proposal, which he had not, indeed, dared to lay before his father, had been made by Uri in all good faith to the assembled elders, and he hoped that its acceptance might save the Hebrews much suffering. But hardly had he ended his very clear and persuasive speech when old Nun, Joshua's father, wno had with difficulty held hii peace, started up in wrath. The old man's face, usually so cheerful, was crimsott with anger, and its deep hue was in strange contrast with the thick, white hair which hung about it. Only a short while since he had heard Moses reject similar proi)osali with stern decision and the strongest arguments ; and now must he hear them repeated. And by many signs of approval on the part of those assembled he saw that the great undertaking for which he, more than any one, had staked and sacrificed his all, was imperilled. It was too much for the vehement old man, and it was with a flashing eye and threatening fists that he exclaimed : " What words are these ? Shall we reknit the ends of the cord which the Lord our God hath cut ? Are we to tie it, do you say, with a knot so loose that it will hold just so long as the present mood of an irresolute weakling, who has broken his word to Moses and to us a score oif ' times? Would you have us return into the cage from which the Almighty hath released us by a miracle ? Are we to stand before the Lord our God as false debtors ? Shall we take the fahe gold which is offered us rather than the royal treasure which He hath promised us ? Oh, man ! You who have come from the Egyptian ! I would I could ** I: yoa/iUA. And the fierce old man shook his fist ; but before he had spoken the threat which was on his lips he ceased and his arm fell, for Gabriel, the elder of the tribe of Zcbulon, called out : " Remember your own son, who at this day is still con- tent to dwell among the enemies of Israel ! " The blow had told ; but it was only for a moment that the fiery patriarch's high spirit was quelled. Above the hubbub of voices which rose in disapproval of Gabriel's malice, and the lesser number who took i)art with him. Nun's was heard : " It is by reason of the fact that, besides the loss of the ten thousand acres of land wliich I have left behind, I may, perchance, have also to sacrifice my noble son in obedience to the word of the Lord, that I have a right to speak my mind." His broad breast heaved sorrow- fully as he spoke, and now his eyes, beneath their thick, white brows, fell with a milder gleam on tlie son of Hur, who had turned pale under this violent address, and he went on : "This man is indeed a good son and obedient to his father, and he, too, has made a sacrifice, for he has come away from his work, in which he won great praise, and from his home in Memphis, and the blessing of the Lord rest upon him ! But inasmuch as he has obeyed that bidding, he ought not to try to undo that which, by the Lord's help, we have begun. And to you, Gabriel, I say that my son is of a surety not content to dwell with the enemy; nay, that he will obey my voice and join himself to us, even as Uri, the first-born son of Hur. Whatever keeps him back, it is some good reason of which Joshua need not be ashamed, nor I, his father. I know him. I trust him for that : and he who looks for aught else from him will of a surety, by my son's dealings, sooner or later, be shown to be a liar." He ceased, pushing his white hair back from his heated brow ; and as no more contradicted him he turned again to the metal worker, saying with hearty kindness : " It was not your meaning, Uri, which roused my ire. Your will is good ; but you have measured the greatness and glory of the God of our fathers by the standard of the false gods of the Egyptians, who perish and revive again, and, as Aaron has said, are but a small part of Him who is in all and through all above all. Till Moses showed me the way I, too, believed I was serving the Lord by slaying an ox, a JOSHUA. 97 nt that )ve the abrieVs th him, besides lave left ly noble L have a . sorrow- ir thick, of Hiir, 1, and he obedient 31- he has It praise, ig of the eyed that :h, by the riel, I say with the 11 himself [whatever Ishua need I trust from him I- later, be lamb or a goose on an altar, as the Egyptians do, and nuw, if your eyes are opened, as mine uvrc by Mones, to behold Him who rules the world and who hatli c:!ioscn us to be His people, you, like me and all of us — yea, and ere long my own son — will feci the fire kindled f'»r sacrifico in your own hearts — a fno that never dies out. and (:on;u!nos everything which does not turn to love and truth and faith and worship of Him. For the Lord hath promised us great things by the word of His servant Moses : Redemption from bondage, that we may be free lords and masters henceforth on our own soil and in a fair land which is ours and our children's forever ! We arc on our way to this gift, and whosoever would delay us on our way, or desires us to return and crawl hack into the net whose meshes of brass we have burst asunder, counsels the i)cople to become as sheep who leap back into the fire from which they have escaped. I am not wroth with you now, for I read in your face that you know how greatly you have erred, but hereby ye all shall know that I heard from the lips of Moses but a few hours since that whosoever shall counsel a return or any covenant with the Egyptians, he himself v.ill accuse as condemning the Lord Jehovah our God, and as the des- troyer and foe of his people." At this Uri went up tc the old man, held out his hand, and, deeply persuaded in his heart of the justice of his reproof, exclaimed : " No dealings, no covenant with the Egyptians ! And I am grateful to you. Nun, for having opened my eyes. The hour is at hand when you, or another who stands nearer to Him than I, shall teach me to know more perfectly the God who is my God likewise." Hereupon he went away with the old man, who leaned his arm upon his shoulder. Miriam had listened with breathless eagerness to Uri's last appeal, and when he gave utterance to the wish to know more perfectly the God of his fathers, her eyes shone with inspired ecstasy. She felt that her spirit was full of the greatness of the Most High, and that she had the gift of speech wherewith to make known to others the knowledge she herself possessed. But the custom of her people required her to be silent. Her heart burned within her, and when she had again mingled with the crowd, and assured herself that Joshua was not yet come, as it was now dusk, she went up to the roof, there to sit with the others. 7 98 yosffr.'. None seemed to have missed her, not even poor, forlorn Milcah, and slie felt herself alone indeed in this house. If Joshua might but come. If only she might find a strung breast on which to lean, if this sense of being a stranger among her kindred might have an end — this useless life under the roof which she nnisi call her home, although she had never felt at home there ! Moses .111(1 Aaron, her brolhers. luid departed, and had taken witii tliem Hiir's graiilson ; ami she, who lived and breathed only for her jjcople and iheir well-being, had not been found worthy to be told more ])articulnrly whither they were faring, or to what end. Ah ! why had the Almighty, to whom she had devoted herself, body and soul, given her the spirit and mind of a man in the form of a woman ? She waited awhile as if to see whether, of all this circle of kind hearts, her kith and kin, there w.-.s not one to love her, listening to the chatter of old and young who sur- rounded her ; but Elea/ar's children gathered about their grandjjarents, and she had never had the art of attracting the little ones. Dame Elisheba was directing the slaves who were ])utting the finishing touches to the baggage. Milcah sat with a cat in her lap, gazing into vacancy, and the bigger lads were out of doors. No one noticed her or spoke to her. Bitter sorrow fell upon her. After eating her supper with the others, making a great effort not to cast the gloom of her own dark mood over the happy excitement of the children, who looked forward with great glee to their departing, she felt she must get out into the free air. Veiling her face closely, she crossed the camp alone. But the scenes she saw there were ill-fitted to lift the burden that weighed upon her. It was still astir, and although here and there pious songs rang out, full of triumph and hope, there was more quarreling to be heard, and rebellious uproar. Whenever threats or reviling against her great brothers met her ear she hastened forward, but she could not run away from her anxiety as to what might happen at sunrise, when the people were to set forth, if the malcon- tents gained the upper hand. She knew that the multitude must necessarily move onward ; still she had never been able to siibdue her fears of Pharaoh's mighty army. It was personified to her in Joshua's heroic f^rm. If the Lord of JOSHUA. 99 Hosts Himself were not with the ranks of these .> retched bondsmen and shci)herds who were squabl)ling and fighting all about her, how should they be able to stand against the tried and well-armed troopN of Kgypt, with their chariots and hordes ? She hud heard that men had been placed on guard at every i)art of t'le camp, and ordered to blow a blast on a horn or drum or a meial i)latc in the event of the enemy's approach, till the Hebrews should have come together at the spot where tiie alarm should be first sounded. She stood for some time listening for some such call, but yet more eagerly for the hoofs of a solitary horse, tb" firm tread and the deep voice of the warrior for whom she longed. Looking for him she made her way to th.e northern side of the camj) next the road to Tunis, where, too, by Moses' order the larger j)ortion of the fighting men had pitched their tents. Here she iuid hoped to find nothing but con- fidence ; but as she listened to the talk of the men-at-arms, who sat in large ])arties round the w.itch-fires, she shuddered to hear that UrI's counsel had reached even to them. Many of them were husbands and fathers, had left a house or a plot of land, a business or an oftlcc, and although many s]>oke of the commands of the Lord, and of the fair land promised them by (lod, others were minded to turn back. She would gladly have gone among them and have called up(m these blind hearts to obey the bidding of the T^ord and of her brother. liut here again she must keep silence. However, she might at any rate listen, and she was most tempted to linger where she might expect to hear rebellious words and counsels. There was a mysterious charm in this painful excitement. She felt as though she had been robbed of a j^lcasurc when the fires died out, the men retired to rest and silence fell. Now, for the last time, she gazed out on the way from Tanis, but nothing stirred except the watch i)acing to and fro. As yet she did not despair of Joshua's coming, for the bidding she had sent him, in the full conviction that it was the Lord Himself who had chosen her to deliver it, must certainly have reached him ; now, however, as she read in the stars that it was past midnight, she began to reflect how many years he had dwelt among the Egyptians, and 1 lOO yosin'A. that ho might think ii unworthy of a man to hearken to ih>» call of a woman, even wlun slie spoke in tlie name of the Most HiL^li. She had in(h4re(l much hun ihation this day ; why should not this also he hanging over her ? To the man she loved, likewise, she ought, i)erhai)s, to have kept silence, antl have left it to her brothers to declare the Lord's behests to him. CHATTKR XIV. Much disturbed and grieved by such thoughts as these, Miriam turned her steps homeward to retire to rest ; but as she reached the threshold she stayed her steps and listened once more, gazing northward whence Joshua must come. Nothing was to be heard but tiie tramp of a watchman and the voice of Hur, as he went the rounds of the camp with a company of armed men. He, too, had found it impossible to rest within. The night was mild and blight with stars, the hour meet for silent dreaming under the sycamore. Her seat was vacant under the ancient tree, so, with a bowed head, she made her way to the favorite spot which on the morrow she must quit forever. Cut she had not reached the bercli when she suddenly stopped, raised her ht.'ad, and pressed her hand to her panting bosom. She had heard the tramp of hoofs, she was sure of it, and the sound came from the north. Were the chariots of Pharaoh hurrying down to fall upon the Hebrew camp ? Should she shout to wake the men-at-arms ? Or could it indeed be he whom she so passionately longed for ? Yes, yes. It was the step of a single horse, and it must be some new arrival, for there was a stir among the tents, and clapping of hands and shouts and eager talking came nearer and nearer as the horseman approached. It was Joshua, she felt certain. That he should have ridden forth through the night and torn asunder the ties which bound him to Pharaoh and his brethren in arms was a proof of his obedience. Love had steeled his will and lent speed to his steed, and t1 (. ij.inks which lovt alone can ,>Tive, the reward which lov r.lonc can bestow, should no longer be withheld from him. He y<is7/f',i. lOI ay; nan ihe ; but 5 and I must , of a •ounds c, too, ir meet :at was ;ad, s^e imoriow Ic bei ch pressed \c tramp from the Pown to to wake n she so icp ot ^ or there Inds ai^d r as the ight and and his ,ove had hnuks hlone can lim. He should loam in hoi arms that, though he had given up mudi. it was to earn somelliing sweclrr and fairer. She felt as tliou^'h the nigh' about her v/as as bright ns noonday, whrn her ear told lu-r that tiie rider was in.ilxing straight for Aniiuadab's dwelling. Uy that she knew that it was her call that had brought him to seek her before going to his father, who had found a lodging in the empty, roc^my lious(« belongiii", l'> his grandson l'",|)hraim. b)shu.i would gladly Iiave llown to her side as fast as his horse could carry him, but it was not safe to ride at too brisk a pace through the camp. Oh, how long the minutes seemed till at last she saw the horseman, till he leaped from the saddle, a)id his companion Hung the reins to another mai^. who came behind. It was, indeed, Joshua. But Ins c( mrade — whcm she saw quite plainly, and started at the s ght — was Hur, the very man who a few hours since had asked her to be his wifj. There they stood, side by side in the starlight, the two men her suitors, their figmcs lighted up the blazing pine torches which were still burning by the carts and litters where they stood ready for the next morning's march. The elder Hebrew, a splendid man, was much taller than the younger and no less strongly built warrior, and the lord of many herds held his head no less high than the Egyptian hero. Both spoke with grave decision ; but her lover's voice was the deeper and fuller. Now they were so close to her that she could hear what they were saying. Hur was telling the newcomer tha<" Moses had gone forth to reconnoitre, and Joshua expressed his regret, as he had a matter of importance to discuss with him. In that case he would have to set forth with them at daybreak, Hur observed, for Moses thought to meet the people on the way. Then he i)ointed to the house of Miriam's protector, Aminadab, which lay in total darkness, unbroken by a single twinkling light, and desired Joshua to come with him and si)end the remainder of the night under his roof, for no doubt he would fain not rouse his father at so late an hour. At this, as Miriam saw, her friend hesitated and looked inquiringly up at the women's rooms and the roof, and then, knowing whom he sought and unable any longer to resist the impulse of her heart, she went forward from under the shadow of the sycamore loa yosiiUA, and warmly bid Joshua welcome. He, too, scorned to- conceal the joy cf his heart, and Hur, standing by, saw the reunited pair clasp hands, at first in silence and then with eapfcr words of greeting. " I knew that you would come ! " cried Mirian', and Joshua replied with glad emotion: "That you might easily know, O prophetess, for one of the voices that bid me hither was your own." Then he added more calmly : *' I hoped lo find your brother here wiih you, for I am the bearer of a message of the greatest imi)ortance to l.im. to us and to the people. I find all made ready for dcpaiiing, and I should be sorry if your venerable protectors were roused from their rest and hurried forward to a perilous adventure which it still seems jjossible to avert." " You mean ? " asked Hur, and he came closer. " I mean," replied Joshua, " that if Moses persists iiv leading the multitude forth eastward, there will be much useless bloodshed to-morrow, for I heard at Tanis that the garrisons of Etham have orders not to let a single man pass, much less this countless multitude, whose riumbers dismayed me as I rode through the camp. I know Apoo, who commands the ])lace, and the legions who ser\e under him. There will be a fearful and fruitless butchery among our unarmed and undiscii)lined tribes — in short I must speak strongly to Moses, and immediately, to avert the worst, before it is too late." *' We have not failed to fear all that you can warn us of,** replied Hur, " and it is expressly to avert it that Moses has set forth on a perilous journey." "Whither?" asked Joshua. " That is the secret of the leaders of the people." " Among them my father ? " " No doubt, and I am ready to lead you to him. thinks fit to inform you »» If he Who " If that is contrary to his duty he will be silent leads the marching host to-morrow ? " " I do." " You ? " cried Joshua in surprise, and the other quietly replied : '* You are amazed that a shepherd should be so bold as to lead an- army, but the Lord God of Hosts, in whom we put our trust, is indeed our captain, and I look for His guidance." ■}".s7/r.i. '03 •' It is well," replied Joshua, "but I too believe that the (iod of our fathers, who called me hither by the voice of Miriam, has intrusted me with a message of great imi)or- tance, I must find Moses before it is too late.'' •* Vou have been told that till lo-morrow, or even till the day after, he is beyond our reach, even mine. Will you meanwliile sjjeak with Aaron?" '' Is he in the camp ? " •* No ; but we look for his return before the departingnf the peoi)le — that is to say, in a few lunirs." "Has he the right of deciding (picstions of importance in the absence of Moses? " " No ; he only delares to the jK'ople in eloriucnt words that which his great brother commai ds." At this the disappointed warrior gazed thoughtfully on the ground ; but after a moment's relUciion he eagerly went on : " It is to Moses that the Lord our (iod declares His will ; but to you, too. his noble, virgin sister, to you, too, the Most High reveals himself." "Oh, Joshua I" tlie projihctcss broke in, lifting her hands to him with an ini])loring and deprecating gesture ; but the captain paid no heed to her interruption and went on in ail earnest tone : '* The Lord Oocl charged you to call me, His servant, back to His i)eople. He commanded you to give me the name I am to bear instead of that given me by my father and mother, and which I have i orne in honor for thirty years. In obedience to your bidding I have cast from me all that could make me great among men. It was when I was in the way to face death in Egypt, with my God and your image in my heart, that the message came to me which I am here to deliver, and I therefore believe that it was laid upon mc by the >.. -^t^ High. I am constrained to deliver it to the leader of the nation ; so, as I cannot find Moses, I can do no better than to deliver it to you, who, next to your brother, dwells nearest to God. I pray you now to hear me ; but the words I have to speak are not yet ripe for any third hearer. At this Hur drew himself up. Breaking in on Joshua's speech he asked Miriam whether it was her desire to hear what the son of Nun should say without witnesses, and she replied in a low voice, " Yes." Hur turned to the warrior and said, with (old pride : '' I believe that Miriam knows the will of the Lord and 104 JOSHUA. illil 'lii'i likewise her brotlier's, and tliat she is aware of what beseems a woman of Israel. If I am not mistaken it was under tliis very tree that your own father, the venerahU; Nun, repeaud to my son I'ri the only reply which Moses will give to the bearer of such message as yours." " Do you know it, th.-n ? '' asked the soldier,, sternly. " No/' replied the other, " but I guess iis purport. See here." lie stooped with youthful agilily, raised two large stones so tliat they sui)pi)rted each othe:, rolled a few smaller stones mUi a heaj) around them, and then, in breathless eagerness, he sjjoke as follows : "This heap shall be a witness between me and thee, like the heap of Mizpah which Laban and Jacob made wlien Laban called upon the Lord lo watch between him and Israel : so do I now, and I show thee this heap that thou mayest remember it when we are absent one fr( m another. I lay my hand on this heap of stones, and I declare that I, Hur, the son of Calel) and Ephratah, ]nit my trust in none other but only in the Lord, the God of our fathers, and am ready to do His bidding by which He calk.th us out of the land of Pharaoh to the land which He liath promised us. And thou, Joshua, the son of Nun, do I ask, and the Lord our Godheareth thee : Dost thou look for any help other than that of the God of Abraham, who chose thy nation to be His own people? Moreover, thou shalt answer and say whether henceforth thou wilt hold the Egyptians who oppressed us, and out of whose hand the Lord our God hath piromised to redeem us, as the foes forever of thy God and thy jjcoplc.^ " There was a dark look in the warrior's bearded face, and he was inclined to kick down the heap of stones and dismiss the overbold questioner with a wrathful reply : but Miriam had laid her hand on the top of the heap, and. seizing liis right hand, she cried : '' He inquires of thee in the sight of our God and Lord who is oiu" witness ! "' Joshua was able to control his wrath, and pressing the maiden's hand as he held it he answered with due solemnity : *' He asks me, but I cannot answer him ; for ' yea ' and ' nay ' say little in this case. Yet I call God to witness on my part, and here by this heap of stones you, Miriam, shall hear- what I have in my mind and wherefor I am come. And thou, Hur, see here I Like thee I lay my hand yos/iTA. 105 ems ;i(lcr <un, will y- See large a few :n, in thee, made iw him p that e fi< m , anil I \h, r^i^ God of -lich He lich He N^m, do iiou look m, who thou ilt hold se hand the foes [ace, and Ines and )ly ; but ap, and. nd T^ord ;smg the Icmnity : rca ' and luness on Miriam, ^for 1 am [my hand on the hcvip and tcsliiy lluit 1, Joshua, tlic son (f Nun, put in\' trust ill none other but o;il}" in the Lord (lt;(.l of our failicrs. He shall stand belw.'cn thee and inc as a witness, and decide whetlier my way :, His way or the wa\- of an erring man. I \.iil walk in His way as He hath tlechired it to Moses and to tills nol)k maiden. That 1 swear »vilh an oaili. and to ilKit (iod he my witness." Hur hail listened eag'-rly, and now. persuaded by the gravit}' of Joshua's s])eech, he cried : '• 'IT.e 1-oid ourCiod hear mine oath! And I, too. by this heaj", \\iii lake an oath I If the hour should come w'v'u, r.niemberinL; this hea{), thou shalt give the testimony which thou liast refused me, no wrath henceforth shall come between us ; and if it bo the will of the Lord I will deliver into thy hands the leadershij), for thou in many wars hast learnetl more skill than I, who have ruled only over herdsmen and flocks. And thoi;, Miriam, bear in mind that this heap is a witness of the words you twain shall speak here in the sight of (iod. Call to mind the wrathful words we heard spoken under this tree by this man's father ; yea, and 1 call God to witness that I would have darkened the life of Uri, my beloved son, who is the joy of my heart, if he had spoken to the ])eople to persuade them by the message which he delivered to us, for it would have turned away those of little faith from their God. Remember this, maiden, and again hear this : If thou needcst me thou canst fmd me. The door I opened, come what may, will never be shut." And he turned away from Miriam and the soldier. Something, they knew not what, had come over them. He, wl^o all througji his long ride, beset with many dangers, had longed with biirning ardor for the moment which should see him reunited to the maid he loved, stood look- ing down in confu ion and deep anxiety. Miriam, who, at his apjiroach, had been ready to bestow on him all that a woman has of l>est and sweetest '.o reward truth and love w-ithal, Iiad sunk on the ground in front of the awful h ao of stones close to the sycamore tr.'e, and was pressing her head against its old liollow trunk. V. io6 JOSHUA, CHAPTER XV. FoK some time nothing was lobe heard under the syeamoic but the young girl's low sobbing and the impatient step nl the warrior, who. while struggling for eomposure himsiil. did not venture to address her. He <'ould riot fully understand what this was that h;ul suddenly come like a mountain between him and the woman he loved. He had learned from Hur's speech that Moses and his own fatlur had each, severally, rejeeied all mediation , and Net lo him the jironnses he was empoweretl to make seemed a grace and gift from Heaven. As yet none of his nation had heard them, and it Moses were the man he believed him, the Lurii vaust of a s.:ielyoi)en his eyes and show him diat He had chosen bv^i-.u.i lo guide the peoi)lr to a hapjiier future : nor did he doubt that he could easily win over his father, Nun. It was ii full conviction that he had again sworn that it was indeed the Most High who had shown him this way ; ar.d al"ter thinking all this over as Miriam at length rose, he went toward her with renewed hope. The love in his heart prompted him to clasp her in his arms ; but she drew back, and her voice, usually so pure and full, sounded harsh and husky as she asked him wherefore he had tarried so long, and what ii was that he })ur]>osed to reveal to her. As she knelt under the sycamore she had not merely been praying and struggling for composure ; she had looked into her soul. She loved Joshua, but her heart misgave her that he had some proposal to make such as l"''ri's, .and old Nun's wrathful words rang in her ears loudei than ever. Her fear lest her lover had gone astray inui an evil way, and Huf's startling proceedings, had lulled the surges o^'her jxission ; and her spirit, brought back to calmer reflection, now craved above all else to know what could so long have detained him whom she had sent for in the name of the Lord, and wherefore he had come alone without Ei)hraim. The clear sky, glorious with stars. instead of looking down on the bliss of a pair of reunited yos/fcj. Wf lovers, was witness only to the anxious (lucstioning of a tiMiifu'd woman and the impatient answers of a liot spiiited and bitteily-disappoinled man. lie began by muing lii: love, and that he had tome to make her his wifi-, but she, t!u>iigh she suffered him to hold her hand, im- l>lored him to postpone his wooing, and to tell her first all she wanted to know. On his wav hither he had he.ird news of I'.phraim from a fellow soldier from 'Tanis. lie was therefore able to tell her that he had gone into the town in disobediem f to orders, siek and weary as he was, and moved, it would seem, by curiosity, ami that he had found (are ;ind shelter under a frii>ndly roof. This, however, ditl not comfort Miiiam, who blamed herself as she tiiought of the inexp^-rienced and fatherless lad, who had grown \ip under her ow n eyt's, and whom she lu-rself had sent ft.rth among strangers, as a guest untler an Egyptian's roof. lb)wever, loshua assurcil her that he would take upon himself to iuing the boy back to his peojjle, and when she still was not satisfied he asked her whether he had indeed lost all her trust and love. But she, instead ofgiving him a word ol comfort, began to (piestion l.im further, desiring to know what had delayed his coming, so he was forced to tell his tale, though greatly disturbed and cut to the heart, begin- ning in fact with the end of his story. While she listened to him, leaning against the trunk of the sycamore, he, distraught by love aiul im|)atien( e, pai ed up and down, or else, hardly able to control himself, stood (lose to her, face to face. At this moment tiothing seemed to him W()rthy to be clothed in si)eech but the passion nnd the hoi)es which fdled his being. Had he been convint ed that her heart was estranged from him he would have lied from the camp as soon as he had unburdened his soul to his father, and have ridden away into the unknown in search of Moses. All he cared for was to win Miriam and to keep clear of dishonor ; and important as the events and hopes of the last few days had been, he answered her questions hastily, and as though the matters involved were but a light thing. He began his tale in broken sentences, and the oftener she interrupted him the more impatient he bec.ime and the deeper the frown which knit his brows. Joshua had been riding southward for some few hours, in 1 * i*^ io8 JOSHUA. 11 III ' high spirits and full of blossoming hopes, when shortly before dusk he perceived a large crowd of men marching on in front of him. At first he had taken them to l;e the rear p;uard of the fugitive Hebrews, and he had hastened his horse's pace. liut before he came up with the wan- derers some peasant folk and drivers, leaving their carts and beasts of burden in the lurch, had flown to met him with loud shrieks and shouts of warning, telling him th.at the troops in front were the multitude of lejjers. And their warning was but too well justified, for the first who met him with the heart-breaking cry, "■ Unclean ! unclean ! " bore the tokens of those who were a prey to the terrible disease, their dull eyes staring at him from faces devoid of eyebrows and covered with the white, scurfy dust peculiar to leprosy, Joshua presently recognized one and another of them, among them here and there an Egyptian priest with shaven head, and Hebrew men and women. He questioned them with the calm severity of a warrior chief, and learned that they had come from the quarries opposite Memphis, their place of exile on the eastern shore of the Nile. Certain Hebrews among them had heard that their people had fled from Egypt to seek a land which the Lord had promised them. On this, many had determined to put their trust in the mighty God of their fathers and to follow the wander- ing tribes ; and the Egyptian priests even, whose affliction had cast in their lot with the Hebrews, had set forth with them, fixing on Succoth as the goal of their wanderings, whither, as they heard, Moses was first to lead the people. But every one who might have told them the road had fled at their approach. Thus they had gone too far to the northward, even almost as fas as the fortress of Tabnae. It was at a mile from that place that Joshua had overtaken them, and had counseled their leaders to return forthwith and not to bring misfortune on the host of their brethren. During their parley a company of Egyptian soldiers h.ad come out from the citadel to meet the lepers and clear the road of their presence ; however, the captain, who knew Joshua, had used no force, and the two warriors had persuaded the leaders of the unclean to lei tliemselves be guided to the peninsula of Sinai, whe:e tliere was already a colony of lepers among the mountains, net far from the mines. They had yielded to this proposal because Joshua yosi/CA. 109 had promised ihcm that if the Israelites wandered eastward they would visit them and receive all who should be healed; but even if the Hebrews remained in Egypt the pure air of the desert would bring health to many sufferers, and every one who recovered was free to return to his people. All this consumed much time ; and then other delays had occurred, lor as Joshua had been in such near neigh- borhood to the lepers he had been compelled to go to Tabnac, where he and the cai)tain of the troops, who had been with him, were sprinkled with the blood of birds, clothed in clean linen, and obliged to go through certain ceremonials which he himself had deemed necessary, and which could only be performed in broad sunlight. His squire had not been suffered to leave the citadel ; the soft- hearted fellow, seeing a kinsman among the hapless wretches, had clas])ed his hand. The cause of this detention was saddening and sicken- ii^f, and it was not till he had quitted Tabnae at noonday a:^d turned his face toward Succoth that the hope and joy of seeing Miriam again, and of delivering so cheering a message, had revived in Joshua's breast. Never had his heart beat higher with glad anticipation than as he rode on through the night, each step bringing him nearer to his father and his beloved, and at his journey's end, instead of the highest bliss, naught had he found till now but the most cruel disappointment. He had related his meeting with the lepers briefly and reluctantly, although he had done, as he believed, what was best for these hapless folk. Any one of his I'cllow-soldiers would have had a word of praise for him, but she, whose approbation was dearer to him than all else, pointed, as he ended, to a certain spot in the camp, saying mournfully • " They are of our blood ; our God is their God. The lepers of Zoan, Phakos and Phibeseth followed the rest at a reasonable distance, and their tents are pitched outside the camp. Those of Succoth likewise — they are not many — are to journey with them, and when the Lord promised the p ■ pie the land for which they longed it was to great and small and poor alike, and, of a surety, to those poor wretches who now arc left in the hands of the enemy. Would you not have done better to divide those of our race from the Egyptians and bring them hither ? " :t; no yos/iUA. At this the soldier's manly pride rebelled, and his reply was grave and stern. ** In war a man learns to sacrifice hundreds that he may save thousands. Even the shepherd removes the rotten sheep to save the flock." " Very true," replied the girl eagerly, '* for the shepherd is but a man, who knows no remedy against the evil. Dut the Lord who hath railed all His peoi)le will not sufTcr them to come to harm through obedience." •'.So women tliink ! " retorted Joshua. ''But the counsels of iom})assion which move them must not \k suffcMcd to weigh loo heavily in those of men. You aii' ready to follow the dictates of your heart, as indeed is most fitting, so long as you do not forget what beseem-, you and your sex. Miriam's cheeks Hushed crimson, for she felt the stab that was hidden in this speech with a double pang, since it was dealt by Joshua. How much had she this day i)een forced to renounce for her sex's sake ? And now she was to be made to feel that she was not his equal, thatslic was but a woman In the presence of the heap of stone?, which Hur had built uji, and on which her hand at this moment rested, he had appealed to her judgment as though she were one of the leaders of the people ; and now he roughly set her in her place — her, who felt herself second to no man in gifts and in spirit. Rut he, too, had been wounded in his pride, and her demeanor warned him that this hour would decide whether in their future union he or she should get the mastery. He stood up in front of her in all his pride and high determi- nation — never, indeed, had she thought him so manly or so desirable. Yet the instinct to fight for her injured womanly dignity was stronger than any other impulse, and 5nally it was she who broke the painful silence which had followed his words of reproof. With a degree of composure which she only achieved by the exertion of her utmost power of will she began : " But we are both forgetting what keeps us here at this hour of the night. You were to reveal to me what brought you hither, and to hear from my lips the judgment of the Lord — not that of Miriam, the foolish woman." " I had hoped to hear the voice of the maiden m whose love I trusted," he gloomily replied. JOSHUA. Ill "You shall hear it," she said, taking her hand frc.n off the heap of stones. " But it may bcfiill that I cannot consent to the judgrient of the man whose power and wisdom are so far greater than mine, and you have laught me that you cannot brook a woman's contradiction — not even mine." "Miriam!" he exclaimed, reproachfully, but she went on more vehemently : •' I have felt it deeply ; and as it would be the greatest sorrow of my life to lose your heart, you must understand mc fullv before you call upon me to pronounce judgment." " But hrst hear my message." " ^o — no I " she eagerly replied. •' The answer now would (lie on my lips. First, let me tell you of th-j woman who, though she has a loving heart, knows something which she holds far above love. Vou smile ? And you have a right to smile till you know that which I will reveal to you." " Speak, then 1 " he broke in, in a tone which betrayed how hard he felt it to keep patience. •' Thanks for that," she said, warmly. Then, leaning against the tree trunk, while he sat down on the bench and looked into her face and now on the ground, she spoke : '' I have left childhood behind me, aye, and my youth will soon be a thing of the i)ast. While 1 was still but a little child I was not very different from other girls. I played with them, and although my mother taught me to pray to the God of our fathers, still I was well content to hear what other children would tell me of Isis. As ot"ten as I could I would steal into her temple, buy spices and strip my little garden for her ; would pour oil on her altar and offer her flowers. I was taller and stronger than many maidens of my age, and the daughter of Amram to hoot, so that the others were ready enough to obey me and do all I proposed. When I was eight years old we moved hither from Zoan. Before I had found a playfellow here you came to stay in the house of Gamaliel, your sister's husband, to be healed of a wound from a Libyan's lance. Do you remember that time, when you, a young man, made a comrade of the little girl ? I fetched you all you needed ; I chattered to you of all I knew, and you told me tales of bloody fights and victory, and described % 112 JOSHUA. the splendid armor and the horses and chariots of the soldiers. You showed me the ring you had won by your valor, and when the wound in your breast was healed we wai^dered about the meadows together. ' Isis, whom you worshiped, had her temple here also, and how often would I steal secretly into its courts to pray for you and carry her my holiday cakes. I had heard so much from you of Pharaoh and his magnificence, of the Egyptians and their wisdom, skill and luxurious lives, that my little heart longed to dwell among them in the capital ; it had moreover come to my ears that my brother Moses had been treated with great kindness in the king's palace, and had become a man held in high honor among tlie priesthood. I could no longer be content with my own folk, who seemed to me in all respects far behind the Egyptians. 'Then came the parting from you, and as my little heart was piously inclined, and looked for all good lo come from divine power, by whatever name it was called, I prayed for Pharaoh and for his army with which you were fighting. " My mother would sometimes speak of the God of our fathers as of a mighty Defense who had done great things of old for His people, and she told me many fine tales of Him ; still ^he herself often sacrificed in the temple of Set, or carried clover flowers to the sacred bull of the Sun-god. She had kind thoughts, too, of the Egyptians, among whom our Moses, iier pride and joy, had risen to such high honor. " Thus I came to be fifteen years old and lived hap])ily with the rest. In the evening, when the herdsmen had come home, I sat round the fire with the young ones, and it pleased me when the sons of the great owners preferred me above the others and paid court to me ; but I rejected therri all, even the Egyptian captain who commanded the guard in charge of the storehouse, for I always thought of you, the companion of my childhood. The best I had to give would nut have seemed too much for a magic si)ell which might have brought you to my side, when at high festivals I danced and sang to the tambourine, and the loudest praise was always for me. Whenever I Lar.g before others I thought of you, and as I did so I pouicH r, :[ O. that filled my heart as a lark might, so that my song was yosiiUA. 113 ots of the 311 !)>• your . healed we ■I here ab;o, arts to pray d heard so nee, of the s Hves, that the capital ; 3thcr Moses ,ng's palace, among the •ith my own • behind the as my little all good lo t was called, h which you e God of our t great things r Ime tales of he temple of bull of the e Egyptians had risen to [lived happily -rdsmen had ones, and it Lrs preferred fut I rejected iimanded the Is thought of 3est I had to magic spell [•hen at high }ine, and the I Lar.g before )Ulcd (- :t -il Imy song ^v:^= to you and not to the praise of the Most High, to whom it was dedicated." At this a fresh glow of passion possessed the man to whom his beloved confessed such gladdening trutii. He sprang up and held out his arms to her, but she forbade him with stern severity, tluit she herself might remain mis- tress of the longing which threatene<l to be too much for her. Iler deep voice had a different .ing in it as she went on, at first quickly and softly, but ])rescntly louder and more impressively : "And so I came to be eighteen, and I could endure Suc- coth no longer. An unutterable yearning, not for you only, came over my soul. Things that had formerly brought me joy now seemed empty, and the monotony of my life here in this remote frontier town, among flocks and herdsmen, seemed to mc dreary and wri'tched. " Kleazar, Aaron's son, had taught me to read, and brought me books full of tales which could never have been true, but which nevertheless stirred my heart. Many of them contained praises of the gods and ardent songs, such as lovers sing one to another. These took deep hold on me, and when I was alone in the evening or at mid-day, when all was still and the shepherds and herdsmen were away at pasture, I would rehearse these songs or invent new, mostly hymns in prai.se of the Divinity, in honor of Amon, with his ram's head, or of Isis, with the head of a cow ; but often, too, of the Almighty Lord who revealed Himself to Abraham, and of whom my mother spoke more often as she grew older. And this was what I loved best — to think in silence of such songs of praise, and wait for visions in which I saw God's greatness and glory, or fair angels and hideous demons. From a merry child I had become a pensive maiden who let her life go as it might. There was no one to warn or to hinder mc ; my parents were now dead, and I lived alone with my Aunt Rachel, a misery to myself and no joy to any one else. Aaron, my eldest brother, had gone to dwell with his father-in-iaw, Aminadab, for the old home of Amram, his inheritance, was too small for^him, and he had bestowed it on me. My companions even avoided me, for all gladness had depart- ed from me, and I looked down upon them in sinful scorn because I could compose songs and see more in my visions than ever they saw. 8 '1^ \ JI h si IT" , "m 114 JOSHUA, " Now I was nineteen, and on the eve of my birthday, which no one remembered save Milcah, Elcazar's daughter, the Lord for the first time gave me a message. He appeared in the form of an angel and bid me set the house in order, for a guest was on the way wliom I loved greatly. " It was very early in the morning and I sat under tl.is tree \ so I went into the house, and with old Rachel's help I set the house in order and made ready a bed, and i)re- l)ared a meal with wine and all that we welcome a guest withal. Ijut noon came, and the afternoon and the even- ing became night, and the night morning again, and still I waited for the guest. However, as the sun was getting low that day the dogs began to bark loudly, and when J went forth to the gate a tall man came hurrying toward me. His hair was grey and in disorder, and he wore a priest's white robe all in tatters. The dog shrank from him whining, but I knew him for my brother Moses. "Our me. Ling again after such a long time brought me more fear than pleasure, for Moses was fleeing from his pursuers because he had slain the overseer. But this you know. "Wrath still flashed from his sparkling eyes. He appeared to me to resemble the god Set, and each of his slow words was engraved on my mind as with a hammer and chisel. He remained three times seven days and nights under my roof, and since I was alone with him and deaf P.achel — for he had to remain hidden — no one came be- tween us, and he taught me to know Him who is the God of our fathers. I listened to his burning words with fear and trembling, and his weighty speech fell, as it seemed to me, like rocks upon my breast when he impressed on me what the Lord God expected of me, or when he described the wrath and the greatness cf Him whom no mind can com- prehend, and whose name none may utter. Yes, when he spoke of Him and of the Egyptian gods, it appeared as though the God of Israel stood forth like a giant whose brow touched the heavens ; while the other gods all crouched at his feet in the dust like whimpering hounds. " He also taught me that we alone, and no others, were the Lord's chosen people. Now, for the first time, I was filled with pride that I was a scion of Abraham, and that every Hebrew was my brother and every daughter of Israel my sister. Now, too, I understood how cruelly JOSHUA. "S birthday, daughler, age. He the house d greaily. ndcr tl.is ;hcrs help , and i>K- ic a guest the evcn- and still 1 ■as getting id when 1 :oward me. ; a priest's from him )iought me g from his ut this you eyes. He each of his a hammer and nights ii and deaf ic came be- is the God s with fear seemed to [ssed on me described id can com- ;s, when he ppeared as ;iant whose ir gods all hounds. jthers, were Itime, I was n, and that [aughter of low cruelly tho.se of my own kindred had been tortured and oppressed. I had hitherto been bliivi to the anguish of my j)eople, but ^[oses oi)cned my eyes and sowed the seeds of hatred in mv heart — a great hatred of the tyrants of my bretliren \ and frcjm that hatred grew love for the oppressed. I vowed that I would cling to my brother and wait on the voice of the Lord, and, behold! Me did not tarry; the voice of Jehovah spoke to me as with tongues. " About that time old Rachel died, and by Moses' desire I did not live alone, but followed the bidding of Aaron and Amiuadab and became a guest under their roof. Still, even then I lived a life apart. Nor did they hinder me ; and this s^'oamore in their field became, as it were, my place. It was under its shade that God bid mc call thee and name thee nolj)en of Jehovah — and thou, Joshua, and no longer Rosea, hast done the bidding of the Lord thy God and of His prophetess 1 " At this point the soldier interrupted the damsel's tale, to which he had listened earnestly, though with growing disappointment. " Yes," he said, " I obeyed you and the Lord God ! What it cost me to do so you care not to inquire. You have told all your story down to the present hour, but you have nothing to say of the days you spent with us as our guest at Tanis after my mother's death. Can you forget what your eyes first told mc there, and then your lips? Has the day of our parting vanished from your memory, and the evening on the sea when you bid me set my hopes on you and remember you ? Did the hatred which Moses implanted in your heart exclude all else, even love?" " Even love ? " cried Miriam, raising her tearful eyes to his face. " Oh, no ! How could I ever forget that time, the happiest of my life ? But from the day when Moses came from the desert to redeem the people from bondage by the command of the Loid — it was three months after your departing — from that day I have lost all coimt of years and months, days and ni^jhts." " And you will forget this night ? " asked Joshua, bitterly. " Nay, not so," said Miriam, looking beseechingly in his face. " The love which grew up in the child's heart and did not fade in the girl's can never die " Here she suddenly broke off, raised her hands and eyes to heaven as \ ii6 yosiiuA. if wrapt in ecstasy, and cried aloud : " Thou art nigh to mc, great God Almij^hty, and canst read my heart ! Thou knowcst wherefor Miriam counts no more l)y days and years, and asks only to be Thy handm;ild until Thou hast granted to her i)eoi)le, who is this UKin's people, that which Thou hasl promised I" While the maiden was uttering this prayer, which came from the very bottom of her heart, a light breeze had sprung up, the herald of dawn, and tlic thick, leafy crown of the sycamore tree whispered above her head. Joshua devoured her tall, majestic figure with his eyes as she stood half lighted and half shrouded in the doubtful gleam of dawn, for the thi.igs he saw and heard seemed to him as a miracle. The tidings of great joy to which she looked forward for her peo[)lc, and whicli must be accomi)lished before she would allow herself to follow the desires of her heart, he believed himself to be the bearer of in the name of the Lord. Carried away by the high llight of her spirit, he hastened to her side, seized her hand and cried with hoi)e- ful excitement : "The hour has come when you may once more tell day from night and hearken to the wishes of your heart. For I, Joshua, no more Hosea, came at the message of the Lord, and the message I bear brings new ha])pincss to the people whom I will learn to love as you love them, and,^if it be the will of the Most High, a new and better land." Miriam's eyes flashed with gladness. Carried away by thankful joy, she cried ; " Are you, then, come to lead us to the land Jehovah hath promised us ? Oh, Lord, how great are Thy mercies ! lie — he comes as Thy messenger." '* Yea, he comes ; he is here ! " cried Joshua, rapturously, and she did not prevent him as he clasped her to his breast. With a thrill of joy she returned his ardent kis CHAPTER XVI. Frightened at her own weakness, Miriam presently freed herself from her lover's arms, but she was ready to listen with eager gladness to his tale of a fresh mercy vouchsafed by the Most High, and his brief account of all he had done and felt since he had received her call. JOSHUA, 117 First, he described how terribly he had been divided in liis mind ; how llien he had found (.'iitire faith, an( . in obechcnre to tlie ( i(nl of his nation and to his father's apjjeal had gone to the i)ahice, facing the risk of imprisonment or death, lo be released of his oath. Next he told her how graciously the mourning sovereigns had received him, and how finally he h:id taken upon himself the oflke of ai)peal- ing to the leader of his people and persuading liim to take the Hebrews only a short way into the desert, and then bring them home again to I'.gypt, where a new and splendid province should be granted them on the west of the Nile, f lencefc^rth no Egyptian overseer should oppress them ; their own ciders should be ])ermitted to rule them, and a man of their own choosing should govern them. To conclude, he observed that he himself was minded to become the cai)tain (jf the Hebrew fighting men, and also to mediate and smooth matters between them and the Egyptians whenever it might seem needful. Happily united to her in that new home, he would extend his care to the humblest of his brethren. On his way hither he had felt as though, after a furious fight, the blasts of the trumpets proclaimed victory. And, indeed, he had a right to believe himself a messenger and ambassador from the Lord. Here, however, he interrupted himself, for Miriam, who at first had listened to him with anxious ears and flashing eyes, had heard him, as he proceeded, with a more and more anxious and troubled mien. And when he spoke of his hope that they might together do much for their people, she drew away her hand, gazed with terror into his hand- some face glowing with glad excitement, and then cast down her eyes as if striving for self-control. Unsuspicious of what had moved her thus, he went closer to her. He deemed that it was maidenly shyness that held her silent at having yielded a first favor to the man she loved. But when she shook her head disapprovingly at his last words, announcing his commission as God's messenger, he was almost beside himself with cruel disappointment, and exclaimed vehemently : " Then do you believe that the Lord hath defended me, as by a miracle, against the wrath of the mighty, and given me grace to win for His people, from the hand of the great king, such boons as never before did the strong vouchsafe to the weak, only to trifle with the happy trustfulness of a raan whom He Himself called to serve Him?" if. ii8 JOSHUA. I 111! At this she interrupted him in a woful voice, with difficulty- restraining her tears : " The strong to the weak ! If this is your thought you force me to ask you in your own father's words : ' Who» then, is the mightier, the Lord our God or that poor crea- ture on the throne, whose first-born has perished at a sign from the Most High as grass is cut down and withered ? * Oh, Hosea, Hosea ! " " Nay, Joshua," he wildly exclaimed. '* Do you refuse mc the name which your God bestowed on me ? I trusted in His aid when I entered the palace of the great king ; I sought redemption and release for the nation under God's guidance, and I found them, and you — you " ** Moses and your father, aye, and all the faithful leaders of Israel, sees no redemption at the hand of the Egyptians," she replied, with fluttering breath. " All that they can bestow must bring destruction on Israel ; the grass that we have sown withers where the Egyptian treads. And you, whose honest soul they have but mocked at, you are the lure sent forth by the bird catcher to entice the birds into the net. You are, as it were, the hammer in their hand to riv( t the fetters withal more firmly than ever, which we, by God's help, have broken. With the eyes of the spirit I see " " Enough ! Too much ! " cried the warrior, grinding his teeth with rage. " Hatred has clouded your clear soul. And if the bird catcher, as you would have it, is of a truth using me as his lure, and mocked at me and led me astray, it was from you, yes, you, that he has learned it. Encour- aged by you I built on your love and faithfulness; of you I hoped everything. And that love — where is it ? You have spared me nothing that could wound me, and I, likewise, will not spare myself, but confess the whole truth. It is not alone because the God of my fathers bid me, but because it was through you and ray father that the call came to me, that I obeyed. You aspire after a land in the far unknown, promised by the Lord. I opened to my people the way to a certain and happy home. Nor was it for their sake, for what have my people ever done for me ? But above all, that I might dwell there with you, whom I love, and with my old father, and you, whose cold heart knows not love, with my kiss on your lips, you reject the boon I offer out of hatred for the hand that has bestowed it JOSHUA. 119 ifficultjr ght you ♦Who» lor crea- Lt a sign hered?* lU refuse [ trusted king; I er God's .1 leaders yptians,' they can }s that we \nd you, u are the airds into heir hand vhich we, le spirit I inding his lear soul, of a truth ne astray, Encour- s; of you it? You s, and I, lole truth, d me, but call came in the far ny people ,vas it for I for me ? I, whom I :old heart reject the stowed it on me. All your thoughts and deeds have become as those of a man, and all that other women prize most highly you spurn from you with your foot ! " At this Miriam could bear no more. She clasped her hands over her quivering face, sobbing bitterly. By tliis time the sleeping tribes were awakening in the growing dawn. Serving men and women came forth from the houses of Aminadab and Nahshon. All, as they woke to a new day, made their way to the well or the drinking-troughs, but she heeded them not. How her heart had leaped and rejoiced when her lover had declared to her that he had come to lead them to the land which the Lord had promised to His ];eoi)Ie. She had rested so gladly on his bosom, to know for a moment that highest bliss, but how soon had it been turned to cruel disappointment ! While the morning breeze had rustled through the thick foliage of the sycamore, and while Joshua was telling her of Pharaoh's i)romiscs to the people, it had seemed to her that the voice of Ciod in His wrath was murmuring on the tree-tops, or that she heard once more the angry sj)eech of old Nun. He had stormed at Uri like thunder and lightning, and wherein did Joshua's proposals differ from Uri's ? The people, as she had heard from Moses himself, were lost if they failed in truth to their God and yielded to Pharaoh's enticements. To ally herself with a man who had come to undo all for which her brothers and his own father had lived and struggled would be base treason. And yet she loved Joshua, and instead of repulsing him •harshly, how willingly, ah, how gladly, would she again have lain on the heart which, as she knew, longed for her so ardently. But the murmur in the boughs still went on. She could fancy it was echoing Aaron's words of warning, and she vowed to remain true, strong as the impulse was that drew her to her lover. The whispering in the tree was of a surety the voice of God, who had chosen her to be His handmaid. When Joshua had declared in his passionate excitement that the desire to possess her was what had prompted him to action on behalf of the people who to him were as indifferent as to her they were dear, she had suddenly felt her heart stand still, and she could not for- bear sobbing in her mental anguish. |!S^ 120 josnuA. ■A'!2 flif :Si| Heedless of Josliua or the awakening multitude, she flung herself again at the foot of the sycamore, with arms upraised to heaven, staring wide-eyed at the boughs, as though exi)eciing some fresh revelation. The morning air sighed among tlie leaves, and suddenly it seemed as though a bright radiance shone not only in her soul, but all about her, as always happened when a vision was granted to her prophetic eye. And in the midst of the light, behold a figure, whose aspect terrified her while his name was whispered by every trembling leaf; and the name was not Joshua, but that of another whom her heart could not desire. He stood in the blaze of glory before her mind's eye, a tall, noble form, and, with a solemn ges- ture, laid his hand on the heap of stones he had made. Breathless with suspense she gazed at the vision ; a'^d yet she would gladly have closed her eyes to avoid seeing it. and have shut her ears to the voice of the murmuring sycamore. Suddenly the glory was extinct, the figure had vanished, the voice of the leaves was hushed ; she saw before her, in a ruddier glow, the figure of the only man ■whose lips her own had ever kissed, sword in hand, rush- ing on an invisible foe at the head of his father's herds- men. The vision came and was gone as swiftly as a flash of lightning ; and yet, even before it had vanished, she knew all it meant to. her. This man, whom she had named Joshua, and who had every quality that could fit him > be the guardian and leader of his people, should "not be led astrav bv love from the hirrh task to which the Lord had called him. None among the Hebrews should hear the message he had brought, and thereby be turned away from the perilous path on which they had entered. Hjr duty was now as clear in her sight as the vanishes vision had been. And as though the Most High would fain show her that she had understood rightly what the vision demanded of her before she 1-ad risen from her knees to annovmcc to Joshua the sorrow to which she bad ■condemned h;ni and herself, she heard Hur's voice close at hand bidding tlie crowd, which was gathering from all sides, to form in order for their march. The way o{ .salvation from herself lay before her. Joshua, meanwhile, had not ventured to intrude on her devotions. He was wounded and angered tc the depths of his soul by her rejection. But gazing down on her he mr yosiiUA. 121 had seen licr trill frame shiver as with a sudden chill, her eyes and hands iii)liucd as if spell-bound; and he had under;-.tood that sDuiethiiiL; [•'.•eat antl sacred was stirring in her soul wliich it wnuld l)>j a crime to di ,U;rl) ; nay, he had been unable to resist an instinctive fe',:l;ng that he was a bold man who could desire a woman so closely one with (iod. It would be bli ,s indeed to be lord of this sublime creature, but at the same time hard to see her jjrefer another, though it were the Almighty, so far above her lover. .A [en and beasts were already trooping in crowds past the sycamore, ar.d wlie:i at length Josluia decided that lie must speak to Miriam and remind her of the gathering ihrong she rose, and turning to him spoke tliese vehement words : " I have spoken with the i.ord, Joshua, and I now kno\r His will. Dost thoti remember the words with which God called thee ? " He bowed h.is head and she went on : •' It is v/ell. Then learn now wdiat it is that the Most High Ood hath said to thy father, and to Moses, and to me. He will lead us forth from the land of Egypt, far, far away, to a land where neither Pharaoh nor his rulers shall have dominion over us, and He alone will be our King. This is His will, and if thou desire to serve Him thou shalt follow us, and, if we have need to fight, be captain over the men of our people." At this he beat his breast and cried in great troi'.i)lc : '' I am bound by an oath to return home to Tanis to tell Pharaoh how the leaders of the Hebrews have received the message wdiich I have brought to them. Yea, and even if it should break my heart I cannot be forsworn." " Ajid rather shall miiie break," Miriam moaned, " than I break my vow t ;> the Lord. We have ch.osen. And here, in the presence of this heap of stones, all the ties are cut which ever boiuid us ! " At this he was beside himself ; he eagerly strove to take her hand, but she reptdsed him with an imperious gesture, turned away and went forward towards the throng of peoi)le wdio were crowding round the well with the cattle and sheep. Great and small respectfully made way for her as she walked with proud dignity towards ilur, who was giving t : ;i' P- : m itM \\\ 123 yosiiUA, orders to the shepherds. He came to meet her, and when he had heard the promise she made him in an undertone he laid his hand on her head and said with grave solemnity : " May the Lord bless our union." Then, hand in hand with the gray-haired man to whom she had plighted her trolli, Miriam turned to meet Joshua, and nothing betrayed the deep agitation of her soul but the fluttering rise and fall of her bosom, though her cheeks were indeed pule j her eyes were dry, and her demeanor as unbending as ever. She left it to Hur to tell the lover whom she had rejected, now and forever, what she hod done; and when the warrior heard it he . arted back as though a gulf had vawned at his feet. His lips were bloodless as he gazed at the unequally matched pair. Scornful laughter seemed to him the only fit answer for such an announcement, but Miriam's earnest face helped him to suppress it, and to conceal his jDainful agitation under some trivial speech. However, he felt that he could not for long preserve the semblance of indif- ference, so he bid Miriam farewell. He must, as he hastily explained, greet his father, and request him to call a me( c- ing of the elders. But before he had done speaking the quarreling herds- men came crowding round Hur that he might decide what place in the procession it behooved each tribe to take ; so he went with them \ and as soon as Miriam found herself alone with the soldier she i?iid beseechingly, but in a low voice and with imploring eyes : " A hasty deed has broken the bonds that united us, but a higher tie still holds us together. As I have given up that which my heart held dearest, to be faithful to my God and my people, so do thou sacrifice that to which thy soul clings. Obey the Most High, who hath named thee Joshua ! This hour hath changed our gladness to bitter grief ; may the good of the people be its fruit ! Remain a true son of the race which gave thee thy father and mothc i , and be what the Lord hath called thee to be, a captain of His people. '* If thou abide by the oath thou hast sworn to Pharaoh, and reveal to the elders the promises thou hast brought, they wjll go over to thy side ; that I know full well. Few will stand up against thee, but foremost of these few will JOSHUA. 133 t),' thine own father. I can hear him uplift his voice in an'^er against his own beloved son ; and if thou shut thine car even to his admonition, then the people will follow thee instead of following the Lord, and thou wilt lead the Israelites as a mighty man of valor. But, then, when the dav comes in which the Egyptian lets his promises fly to the four winds, thou wilt see thy people more cruelly oppressed than even heretofore, and when they turn aside from the God of their fathers to worship the gods with the heads of beasts the curse of thy father shall fall upon thee. The wrath of the Most High shall be visited upon the fro- ward, and despair shall be the lot of h'm v/ho shall lead the foolish folk astray after that the Lord hath choseii him to be the captain of His people. I, a weak woman, the- handmaid of the Lord, and the damsel who loved thee better than I fe — I cry unto thee, 'Beware of the curse of thy father and the hand of the Lord ! Beware lest thou load the people into sin ! ' " A slave girl here came out to Miriam to bid her go to the old people, so she only added in a low voice : "One word more. If thou wouldst prove thyself not less weak than the woman whose opposition moved thee to anger, renounce thine own will for the sake of the multitude of thv brethren. Lay thine hand on this heap and swear to me—" But the prophetess' voice failed her. Her hands felt about vainly for some support, and with a cry she fell on her knees close to Hur's heap of stones. Joshua hastened to raise her, holding her in his strong arms, and at his call some women hurried up and soon revived the fainting girl. As she opened her eyes they wandered vaguely from one to another, and it was not till her gaze fell on Joshua's anxious face that she fully understood where she was and what had happened. Then she hastily drank a deep draught of the water which a shepherd woman offered her, dried her eyes which were streaming with tears, sighed bitterly, and with a wan smile said to Joshua : " I am after all but a weak woman." Then she went towards the house, but after walking a few steps she turned round, signed to Joshua, and said : " You see they are forming in ranks. They are about to set forth. Are you still of the same mind? There is yet time to call the ciders together." vi il- i m 124 yosiiuA, But he shook his head in denial, and, as he met her eye gHstening wilh gratitude, he soitly rcjiHcd : "I will ever bear in mind this heap, and this liour, v.'ife of Hur ! (ircct my father from me, and te)l him that I love him. Tell him, too, the name which his son is henceforth to bear by the command of the Most IIi:;h. In that name, which promised me the help of the Lord, he shall put his trust when he hears whither I go, to keep the oath I have sworn." lie waved his hand to Miriam, and turned to go to the camp, where his horse had been fed and watered, but she called after him : '* One last word. Moses left a letter for you in the hollow of the tree." At this the warrior went to the sycamore and read the message which the man of God had left for him. "Be steadfast and strong," was the brief injunction, and Joshua raised his head and cried joyfully : " The words are a comfort to my soul ; and if it is for the last time that we have met, wife of Hur, if I now go to my death, be sure that I shall know how to be steadfast and strong, even unto the end. And do you do all you can for my old father." Herewith he sprang on horseback, and as he made his way to Tanis, faithful to his oath, his soul was free from fears, although he did not conceal from himself that he was riding forth to great peril. His highest hopes were destroyed, and yet glad excitement struggled with the grief in his soul. A new and glorious emotion had its birth there, filling his whole being, and it was scarcely damped thoiu';h he had suffered a wound cruel enough to darken the light of day to any other man. He had now a fixed aim in life, and, besides this, he had the assurance that he might hold himself as worthy as Hur or as any other man. None could depose him from this high place but the glorious twain to whom he would dedicate his blood and his liic : liij God and his people. He was amazed to discern how r^reatlv tliis i:c\v eiithii- siasm cast into the shade every. hing else that stined in his breast. Now and again^ in.i.\d, lie bowed liis h^ad in sorrow as he remembered hi ; old father ; s' ill, he had done right in setting aside his lo:\;';ii\s' to j^ress hiui once more 10 his heart. The old man would scarcely have understood his motives, and it was better for them to separate without meeting rather than in open dissension. JOSHUA, las :t her eye will ever t (ircct im. Tell bear by Tie, which t his trust ^c sworn.'' 1 go to the d, but she ^ou in the nit to the )f God had iction, and i words are me that we .th, be sure trong, even for my old le made his ,s free from hat he was opes were th the grief ad its birth ely damped to darken now a fixed mce that he other man. cc but the s blood and r.cw enthvi- Llrred in his lus h.ad in he had done Ince more lo understood Irate without Sometimes it seemed to him as though all that had happened could be Init a dream ; and as he was still intoxicated, as it were, by the agitations of the last few hours, his stalwart frame was but little conscious of the fatigues he had gone through. At a well-known inn on the road, where he found several warriors, and among them certain cai)taius well known to him, he at length allowed himself and his horse to rest and cat ; and as he rode on refreshed, daily life asserted its rights. Ho passed various companies of soldiers on their way to the city of Tanis, and was informed that they were under orders to join them- selves there to the troops which he himself had brought home from Libya. At last he rode into the town, and as he went past the temple of Anion he heard loud wailing, though he had learned on his way that the pestilence was wellnigh at an end. From many signs he gathered the fact which was presently announced to him by some guards, the god's liigh i)riest and first prophet, Ruie, had just died in the 90lh year of his age, and JJaie, the second prophet, who had so warmly assured him of his friendship and gratitude, and who counted on his co-operation in a dangerous enterprise, was his successor — high priest and judge, seal- bearer and treasurer j in short, the most powerful man in Ihe kingdom. CHAPTER XVII. " He whom Jehovah helps ! " murmured a chain-laden priijoner with a bitter smile, as five days later, he, with forty fellow-sufferers, was led through the triumphal arch of Tanis toward the east. Their destination was the mines on the peninsula of Sinai, where fresh-forced laborers were needed. The smile on the victim's face soon vanished ; then he drew up his muscular form while his bearded lips muttered the words : " Steadfast and strong ! " and he whispered to the youth who was walking at his side, as though he wished to cjnvey to him some of the strength that he had recovered : " Courage, Ephraim, courage ; look up and not in the dust, come what may ! " nil I 1 ' r'i '■ ■• i't I aS-ji 1 126 |1 : If:' .illl! t m ■H ■ '111 'il I josni'A. " .siioiicc whilst inatchini; ! '' cried onr of the anncd I<il\v;\i\ f;u;\i«ls whooscortiHl tlic gang to the cKlor piisoiici, and 1k' laisod his wliip with a incnat.ing gesture. Joshi; ; was iln' inui he IhVealeiied, and his eon^pauion ws l'!pliraiiu, who had hccw eoiulcniiu'd to share liis late. l'',very I''.:;yi)tian « liild kiuw what this iiuMut, lor "Send lue to the mines !" was this people's most dreadiui ini| ir (\Uion. and no prisoner's 1<M was hall" so hard as Uuil of Ihc eondiMuned stale I'riniinal. A :->-ries of lVi;;lit!ul humiliations and hardships awailid them at the mines. The strengih of the healthiest w ; , ruiiud h\' unhrard urowr-wiMk. and the exhausted vi(li;, , were foreed to d(< tilings so far ln-vond tlu'ii' [lowi'r that t!i< \ soon sank into the everlasting rest for which tiicir martyn ij souls had long juned. Joshua's encouraging words had little effect o\\ Mphraim ; but when a few minutes later a chariot, shaded by ,iii uml)rella, drove ]Kist the gang, and in it. behind llic charioteer and a matron, stood an elegant young wom n, he turned round q\iickly and ga/ed aiter the vehicle wiili sjiarkling eyes, until the dust o\\ the road hid it from si;lii The hidy was thickly veiled, yet the youth thought tli.i he had recognized her for whose sake lie had rushed iii,.i peril, and whose lightest sign he would even now lly t > obey. And I'-phraim had guessed correctly, for the youii- lady in the chariot was Kasana, the daughter of the caplam of the archers ; the cider woman was her nurse. On reaching a little temple on the road, near a tln'ekct of acacia, among which stood a well for the use of travelers, after the chariot had left the jirisoners at some distance behind, Kasana begged the matron to wait. 'Jluii, springing out lightly on the road, she walked to and fro witli a bowed head imder the shadow of the trees until slif knew by a rolling cloud of dust that the criminals wore approaching. Then, taking out of her garment some gold rings which she had brought with her for the puri)ose, she went uj) to the driver of the melancholy procession as he drew near oii j an ass, and while she talked to him and pointed to Joshu the guard cast a stolen glance at the rings which had hco'i j slipped into his hand. His modesty had only allowed hiinu' exjx^ct silver, and his face at once assumed a friendly anl courteous expression at the sight of their i)leasing yellow j gHttc^ IHllllliltlii yos/fi'A. 127 arnu'ti laic. "or " ^'-''^♦^ till iuM >' Uiirsl v.- iiuiavlyi"! u\o(l by '^^ bohiiul tlu' imii; wimv n, vehicle NvUli it from sii'.ht. Ihovight tliai rushed iiu«i 11 now lly M or the young ,f the capuun k\ . , ■ar a thiekcl (if travelers, >me dislance Ivalt. 'Hk;'^' \ to and lio Irces \unil she inrinals ^vorc ru-igs whicli kc went up to (drew near on i Ted to Josluu ich had hcc'^ lUowedhuuiJ friendlv arrt Lasing y^-l^"*l His uniiilriiiiiice ccrlainly tlarkoiitd ag.iiii iii ihc demand Kasana tnado, I)Ul it hi i[;Iileiu il <»ncc more al a inoini.e of fnrlhrr l.irgesse fmni the yotnij; widow. " T.ikr tlic moles to llie well, men I Let llimi diink ! They shidi go fresh and heallliy un(K'r).;r()und ! " TlK'n lie lode up to the |»iison( is ,iiid <,illr(l lo (oshii.i : " \'ou, who have yourself once ruK d oMr ni.iiiy people, seem lo uir more sliif-ne( ked still th;in is jmkxI for you oi lUi. \'oii. j;uanls, look after the olhi't^. iwillw.ilch this one ; I h.ive a few woitls to say to huii." Then he clapped hi.; hands a:, if he was dri\ iiij; pcniltry from a i^arden, ami whil-t the pri,,oners dicw watei in the huekets of the wi-ll, and, with their guards, rtjoiced in the retVe.-ihing think, liable. idcr led Joshua and lOphr.iini (Uione side, lor ihey could not he separated by reason i if the chains tJKil hound ihem together by the ankles. They wvw. soon hidden from the others behind the little temple, and then the driver sank down on a Ik nch ala lilllc dislaiK e, having lii-t. wilh a significant gesture, shown the two llehrews the hludgeon in his right hand, and ])oinf'(l lo the dogs wJK) were rubbing against his feet. He kept his eyes open, too, during the conversation that followed. They might say what Ihey jileased; he knew his duty, and though he imderstood how to shut one eye on a parting in return for good gold, for ([uile twenty years, in sjnte of many attempts t(j escape amongst hi.s moles — as he called those condemned lo the mines — not one had ever succeeded in getting away. This lovely woman was perhaps this fine fellow's betrothed, for he had been lold that Joshua had been com- mander. But he had already called many noble birds "moles," and if this veiled woman should contrive to slip files or gold inio the prisoner's hands so much the better; this evening nothing on these two should be left unsearched, not even the youth's black hair, which had been left unshorn in the confusion that had taken i)lace at the start of the prisoners, for they had been sent off just before the depar- ture of Pharaoii's army. The subject of the woman's whispered negotiations with the fallen captain remained unknown to the driver, but from her sorrowful face and manner he inferred that she had caused the ruin of this noble man. Oh ! woman, woman I and that lad in chains ! The glances he cast at .:il I h Ml ,4 m \ I' 128 JOSHUA. the slender creature were so ardent that she hcul lu diaw her veil closer. JUit patience! Great Father Anion! His moles were goir.g to a good school for mod', sty. Now the woman removed her veil. She was beautiful ! It must be hard to part with such a lovely creature ; and now she cried so bitterly. The rough guard's heart was touched as much as hi ■ position would allow, and he could have struck the elder prisoner with his whip, for was it not an outrage, having such a lover, to stand like stone ? At first the wretch did not even stretch out a hand to the woman, who certainly loved him ; whilst he, the guard, would have been glad to see the two kiss and embrace. Or was this beauty perhaps the warrior's wife, who had deceived him? But no, no, how kindly he approached h' r now. A father sj)eaks like that to his child, but his "mole" was much too young to have so old a daughter. A riddle ! Howev ;, he did not care about the answer, since it was in his ])ower during the march to make the most taciturn convict as frank as an open book. And not alone the simple driver of the gang, but every- one might have wondered why diis beautiful woman had come out into the highway at early dawn to see an un- fortunate man weighed down with chains. Nothing but tormenting anxiety for the man she loved cojld have impelled Kasana to take this journey and expose herself to scorn as a woman of no r putation. A terrible fate awaited him ; her lively imagination had pic- tured Joshua in the mines languishing, broken down, pining aM'^ay, and at last dying with a curse on her upon his lips, On the evening of the day on which Ephraim, shivering , with high fever and half choked with dust, was carried! into their house, her father had informed her that in the | person of the young Hebrew she held a hostage whidi would force Joshua to return to Tanis, and yield to the wishes of the prophet Bale, with whom she knew her father to be allied in a secret plot. He likewise confided to her that not only were great distinctions and high honors to be offered to Joshua, but also marriage with herself, to secure his fidelity to Egypt and to a cause from which he, Hor- necht, looV.ed for great benefits to the country and to his own kindred. This had filled her with high hopes of attaining long-wished-for joys ; and as they sat near the yosiiUA. \2) e had lu draw Father Anion ! modesty, was beautiful ! creature ; and s much as hi- truck the elder' outrage, having the wretch did , who certainly VQ been glad to ; wife, who had he approached s child, but his old a daughter. Kit the answer, :h to make the, book. ;ang, but every- iful woman had] 1 to see an uiv little road-side temple, she now confessed this to the )risoner with a drooping head and low sobs ; for he was low forever lost to her, and even if he could not return the love siie had fell for him since her cliildliood, he at any rale would not hale her and condemn her unheard. Joshua, indeed, listened to her willingly, and assured her that nothing would gladden his heart more ihan iliat she jhould clear herself from the reiToacIi ( f bt'ing answ-, r- ^1)1'- for the terrible falc awaiting himself and the youtii by Miis side. , ' Al this she sobbed aloud, and had to struggle to coni- j^posc herself before she could succeed in telling her story Aviih any degree of calmness. .Shortly afler Joshua's dejuirture the high priest had died, .and Baie. the second prophet of Anion, had succeeded him. Tiungs were then greatly altered; lliis man, the most ])o\v'j;f.d in the land, stirred up I'haraoh to haired against lie Hebrews and their leader, Moses, whom, till tlun, the ing and queen had protected and feared. He had also ersuaded the kiiig to pursue the fugitive Hebrews, and he army was at once ordered to go forth and compel them o return. She immediately feared tlial Joshua would crlainly refuse to fight against those who were of his own )lood, and that it must anger him to be sent forth to sign contract which the Egyptians would ])egin to break )erore they could know whether it had been accepted. 'hen, when he had returned liome, he himself knew only loo well how Pharaoh had treated him li!;e a i)risoner, and lad refused to admit him to his presence until he had sworn to continue to lead the Egy]>tian troops, and remain a faithful servant to the king, '^tiil, Baic, tlie high )ricst, had not forgotten that he had saved his life, and r'as well disposed toward him and grateful ; and she knew that he had hoped to entangle Joshua in the secret con- spiracy in which her father also was implicated. It was Kaie, too, who had caused Pharaoh to release him from fighting against his own nation on c;;ndition of his renew- ing his oaih of fidelity, to place him in command of the foreign mercenaries, and to raise him to the high rank of " Frijnd of tb.e King'" — but of course he must know all this already, for the new high priest had with his own hand 5et the temi)ting prospect before Joshua, who had rejected it with firm and manlv decision. Her father had in the 9 130 yosiirA, first instance been on his side, and for the first time had entirely refrained from speaking with reproach of his Hebrew origin. On the third day after Joshua's return the captain of tlie archers had gone out to si)cak with him, and since then everything had gone wrong. Tie therefore must know what it was that had turned the man of whom she dared think no evil, since she was his daughter, from being a friend into a mortal enemy. Slie looked inquiringly into Joshua's face, and he was ready with his answer. The caj^tain had tolel him that he would be a welcome son- in-law. "And you," asked Kasana, looking anxiously at tlu speaker. " I," replied the prisoner, " could only say that you had from your childhood been kind and dear to me, but that nevertheless there was much to forbid my linking the fate of any woman to mine." At this Kasana's eyes flashed and she cried : " It is because you love another — a woman of your own people— the woman who sent Ephraim to you ! " But Joshua shook his head and answered gently : " You are in error, Kasana. The woman of whom you speak i> this day another man's wife." " But then," cried the widow, with revived spirit, and she looked at him with tender entreaty, " why — oh forgive me — why did you repulse him so harshly ?" " That W(;ls far from my purpose, dear child," he replied warmly, laying his hand on her head. " I always have thought of you with all the affection of which I am capable. And though I could not, indeed, accede to his wish, it was because the sternest necessity forbids me ever to look for- ward tO that peace and joy by my own hearth which other men may strive for. If I had been a free man my life would have been one of constant journeying and warfare." '* But how many men," Kasana put in, " wield the sword and shield, indeed, but rejoice at their home-coming to their wives, and the joys they find under their own roof?" " Very true," said he sadly. " But the duties that call me are such as the Egyptians know not of. I am the son of my nation." " And you propose to serve it? " said Kasana. " Oh ! I quite understand you. But then — why did you return to Tanis ? Why did you trust yourself in Pharaoh's power?" JOSHUA, 131 " Because I was pledged by a sacred oath, my child," said he kindly. " An oath 1 " sjic exclaimed. ** A promise that puts death ami captivity between you and her whom you love, and those whom you desire to serve ! Oh ! would that you had never come back to this land of unrighteousness, of treachery and ingratitude 1 That oath will plunge many into grief and weeping. IJut what does a man care for the woe he brings on others ? Vou have spoilt all my joy in life, hapless creature that 1 am ; and at home, among your own people, you have a worthy father whose only son you are. How often have I seen the noble old man with his snow-white hair and Hashing eye? And you will be like him if you attain to old age, as I used to think when 1 met him by the harbor, or in tlic four-court of the High (iate, when he was ordering his hinds to bring in his tribute of beasts or woolly sheep to the receij)! of custom. And now his latter days are to be darkened by his son's i)erversity," " And, now," corrected Joshua, " his son is going into misery, loaded with fetters ; still he may hold his head hi^h above those who have betrayed him. They, and Pharaoh at their head, have forgotten that I have shed my heart's blood for them on many a battle-field, and been f.iithful to the king through every kind of danger. Menephtah has abandoned me, and with him his chief minisler, whose life 1 saved, and many another who once called me friend ; they have deserted me and cast me out, and this i mocent lad with me. But, I tell you, woman, those who have done this, those who have committed this sin — ;)ne and all, shall " "Curse them not!" cried Kasana, and her cheeks flushed scarlet. Cut Joshua did not heed her prayer, but exclaimed : " Should I be a man if I did not thirst for vengeance ? " The young woman clung in terror to his arm and beseech- ingly went on : "Mow, indeed, can you forgive him? Only do not curse him, for it was out of love for me tliat my father became your enemy. You know him well, and his hot blood, which easily carries him to extremes in spite of his years. He kcj)! silence, even to me, of what he took as an insult — for he has seen me courted by many suitors, and I am precious above all else in his eyes. Sooner will il 1 i ' 'I t 132 JOSHUA. Pharaoh forgive the rebel than myfailicr will pardon the man who scorns me, his dearest treasure. He came home frantic with rage. Every word he spoke was abuse. Then he could not bear to remain indoors, and he stormed oi.t- side as he had stormed within. At last, however, he would have allowed himself to be pacified, as he often had done before, if he had not met some one in the palace courts who made it his business to pour oil on the flames. I heard all this from the high priest's wife, for she, too, was greatly troubled to think that she had brought evil i.pon you, and her husband had already done everything in his power to save you. She, who is as brave as a man, was ready to second liim and to open the door of your prison ; she has not forgotten that you saved her husband's life in Libya. Ephraim's chains were to be struck off at the same time a': yours, and all was ready to enable you to escape." "I know," replied Joshua gloomily. "And I would return thanks to the God of my fathers if they spoke falsely who told me that it was your doing, Kasana, that our dungeon was loc!:ed on us more closely than ever." At this the pretty heart-broken young creature exclaimed vehemently : " And should I be here if that were true ? Hatred indeed seethed in my soul, as in that of every woman whose love is scorned ; but the ill-fortune which befell you quickly changed my wrath into pity, and revived the fires in my heart. As truly as I pray to be mercifully judged after my death, I am innocent of this thing, and never ceased to hope for your release. It was not until last evening, when it was too late, that I learned that Bale's attempt had failed. The high priest can do much, but the very man whom he will not thwart is closely allied to my father." " You mean Pharaoh's nephew, Prince Siptah," inter- rupted Joshua in great excitement. " They hinted to me the plots they were weaving about him. They wanted to set me in the place of Aarsu, the Syrian captain, if I would but consent to let them work their will with my people and renounce m.y own flesh and blood. But rather would I have died twenty deaths than stain myself with such trea- son. Aarsu is far more fit for such dark schemes, though at last he will betray them all. So far as I am concerned, the prince has good reason to hate me." At this Kasana put her hand over her mouth, pointing ^i^^^ s ^ ^ afa w CW iM . ' yosiiUA. »33 uneasily to Ephralm and the gaoler, and whispered : " Spare my father ! The prince — whatever it was that roused his enmity " " He is seeking to tempt you, too, into his net, and he has been told that you are in love with me," the warrior broke in. IJut she only blushed, and bending her head in assent went on : "■ And for that reason Aarsu, whom he has taken into the conspiracy, is bound to keep such close ward over you and Ei)hraim." "The Syrian's eyes are wide open," cried Joshua. " But I believe you, and thank you heartily for cc.ning to us hapless wretches." •' And you will always think of poor Kasana without wrath or hatred ? " " Gladly, most gladly." The young widow grasped the captive's hand with pas- sionate agitation, and was about lO press it to her lips, but he drew it away ; and she said anxiously, gazing up at him with tearful eyes : " Do you refuse me the favor which no benefiictor refuses to a l)eggar?" Then she suddenly started up, and exclaimeu so loudly that the gaoler was roused, and locked to see where the sun was : " But I tell you, that the time will come when you will offer me that hand to kiss. For when the messenger shall come from Tanis to bring you and this lad the freedom you pine for, it will be to Kasana that you will owe it ! " The fair face glowed with the flush of eager anticipation, and Joshua, seizing her hand, exclaimed : ''Oh, if only you might succeed in doing what your faithful soul desires ! How can I bear to prevent your trying to alleviate the ter- rible misfortune which fell upon this boy under your roof? Still, as an honest man, I must tell you that I can never more take service with the Egyptians ; come what may, I shall henceforth forever belong, body and soul, to those whom you persecute and despise, the nation and tribe into which my mother bore me." At this her lovely head dropped ; but she raised it again immediately to say : •' There is no one so high-soulcd and hoiK^st as you, no one that I have ever known from my childhood up. And when, among my own people, I fail to find any man whom I may reverence, still I will remember _you, in whom everything is great, and true, and vvithout . 'I 11 :; 134 JOSHUA, spot. And if poor Kasana may succeed in setting yoi: free, do not despise her if you find her fallen away from the virtue in which you left her ; for the humiliation she may have to endure, the shame she may be brought to — " Joshua anxiously interrupted her. " What are you about to do ? " he cried ; but he was not to hear the answer, for the leader of the gang rose and clapped his hands, crying out : " Now, on agnin, you moles, on again, at once." At this the warrior's heart was moved to deep regret. Obedient to a hasty impulse he kissed the hapless Kasana on her fair brow and hair, and whispered : " Leave me to pine if our freedom is to cost you such degrada- tion. We shall never, indeed, meet again ; for, come what may, my life henceforth will be nothing but a struggle and self-sacrifice. The night will close in on us darker and darker ; but, however black it may be, one star will often shine on me and on this lad — the remembrance of you, sweet child, my loving and faiihful Kasana.'' Ho pointed to Ei)hraim, and the youth pressed his lips, as if beside himself, to the hand and arm of Kasana, who was sobbing aloud. " Come on ! " cried the driver once more, and with a grateful grin for a fresh gift of money he helped the open- handed lady into her chariot. The horses started, fresh shcuts were heard, the whip cracked here and there on bare shoulders, a few yells of anguish rose through the morning air, and the file of pri- soners went off towards the east. The chains on the vic- tims' feet stirred up the dust which shrouded the wanderers, as grief, and hatred, and dread, clouded each se;^arate soul among them. On they went, bent in gloomy brooding,- • iy Joshua held his head erect. It was a comfort to hiui to know that Kasana, the sweet creature he had loved as a child, was innocent of his fate ; and when his spirit sank within him he could revive it by repeating to himself the words of Moses : '* Steadfast and strong." JOSHUA. ^1>1 CHAPTER XVIII. At a long hour's distance beyond the Httle temple where the prisoners had rested, the road leading southwards to Succoth and Baal Zephon parted from that which led in \ south easterly direction, across the fortified frontier line, to the isthmus and the mines. Not long after the departure of the prisoners the army gathered together to pursue ihe Hebrews had set forth from the city of Rameses, and as the criminals had rested some considerable time by the well, the troops had nearly overtaken them. Thus they had not gone mucli further when some pioneers rode up to clear the higinvay for the approaching host. They ordered the gang of i)risoners to stand aside, and proceed no farther till the swift baggage train containing Pharaoh's tents and household gear should have passed them ; and, indeed, the king's chariot wheels could already be heard. The drivers were well content to be bidden to wait ; they were in no hurry ; the day was hot, and if they were late in reaching their journey's end it was the fiiult of the army. To Joshua, too, the incident was agreeable, for his young companion in chains had been staring before him as if in delirium, and had answered his questions vaguely or not at all, so that the older man was growing uneasy. He knew full well how many of those condemned to forced labor fell into madness or melancholy. And now a portion of the host would march past them, and the sight was new to the lad. and might rouse him from his dull moodiness. There was by the roadside a sand hill overgrown by tamarisk bushes, and to this the driver led his file of men. He was stern, but not cruel, so he allowed his *' moles " to st-etch themselves on the sand, for the march past would be a long business. They had scarcely settled themselves when the roll of wheels, the neighing of fiery steeds, and shouts of command were heard, with now and then the harsh bray of an ass. As the foremost chariots approached, Ephraim inquired 136 JOSHUA. whether Pharaoh were not coming ; but Joshua informed him. with a smile, that when the king led forth his troops to battle, first of all, immediately after the advanced guard, the king's camp and furniture were sent on : for that Pliaraoh and his nobles liked to find their tents pitched and il:e tables spread when :he day's march was over, and all, officers and men alike, were to rest for the night. Joshua had not yet ceased speaking when a number of empty carts and asses free of burdens cnmc past; they were to carry the tribute of bread and meal, beasts and birds, wine and beer, to be paid by each vi'Jage through which the sovereign should pass. This had been levied by the collectors the day before. Soon after came a com- pany of warriors in chariots. Each small, two-wheeled chariot, plated with bronze, was drawn by a j-air of horses, and in each stood a man and a charioteer. Large quivers were attached to the breastworks of the chariots, and the soldiers rested on their spears, or on their large bows. They were ])rotected against the missiles of the foe by shirts covered with scale armor, or thickly padded coats of mail und,;r gayly colored tunics ; and by a helmet, as well as by the breastwork of ,he chariot. These, whom Joshua designated as the vanguard, went forward at an easy pace, and were followed by a vast multitude of wagons and carts, drawn by horses, mules, or oxen ; and with them were whole herds of asses with towering loads on their backs. Next he pointed out to his ncj)hew the tall spars and poles, and heavv rolls of rich stuffs which were to be used in erecting the king's tent, and which were a burden for several beasts ; the asses and the carts with the kitchen utensils, and the camp smithies. With these came the leeches, wardrobe-keepers, salve-makers, cooks, garland- winders, attendants and slaves attached to the royal camp, all mounted on asses driven by nimble runners. All these, having so lately set out, were still fresh and iii high spirits, and those who noticed the prisoners flung many a sharp jest at them, as is the Egyjitian way, though several applied a balm. in the shape of an alms; others, who said nothing, sent a slave with a few fruits or some small gift, for he w!io was free today might, on the morrow, be sent after those poor wretches. The driver let this pass, and whc n a slave whom Joshua had sold some time since for h;5 dif^honesty shouted aloud " Hosea," and pointed to him ■ \ \ w i JOSHUA. m with a malignant gesture, the good-hearted rough fellow offered tlie insulted Hebrew a drink of wine out of his own llask. I'^phraim, wliu had fared fr^m Succoth on fool with a staff in his hand.aiula small wallet containing dried lamb's ilcsh, bread, railishes, and dates, exj^ressed his amazement at the numberless men and things which one man required for his comfort, and I'len sank into melancholy again until his uncle roused him with some fresh explanation. As soon as the camp baggage had gone by, the diiver wanted to start with his prisoners, but the king's pioneer — the "opener of the way "—riding in front of the archers of the guard, who came next, forbade it, as it ill-beseemed criminals to mingle with the soldieis : so they remained on their hillock and looked at the rest of the procession. After the archers came the heavy infantry, carrying shields of strong ox-hide so long as to cover the brawny beirers from their leet almost to the chin ; and Joshua told the boy that at night they were placed in a circle round the king's camp, and so inclosed it, as it were, with a fence. Besides their shields they carried a javelin, and wore a short dagger-like sword or war sickle. When after some thousands of these heavily armed nien there followed a trooj) of sling men, Ephraim spoke f(jr the fr-.t time of his own accord, exclaiming that such slings as the shepherds had taught him to make were far better than those of the soldiers ; and then, encouraged by his uncle, he told him, so eagerly that the men lying about him listened to his words, liow he himself could slay not mere jackals, wolves, and panthers with a stone from a sling, but even a vulture on the wing. And meanwhile he asked the meaning of the standards and tlie names of the different companies of warriors. Several divisions had already gone past when at last another crowd of chariots came in sight, and the driver cried aloud : " The kind god : The lord of both worlds : Long life to him, health and happiness ! " As he spoke he fell on his knees in an attitude of ad'^ration, and the prisoners lay prostrate on their faces to kiss the ground, holding themselves in readiness to join at the right moment, at their gaoler's signal, in the cry, " All hail and happiness I " But they still had long to wait before the expected ii • ii \ i ' i ti ii »3« JOSHUA. i monarch apptarcd. After the chariot-men came the body" guard, mercenaries of foreign nations wearing a peculiar kind of helmet and long swords. They marched on foot, and immediately behind them a vast multitude of prie^>ts and scribes appeared, with a number of images of the gods. Then again a company of guards, and at last Pharaoh and his court. Foremost of them all was Baie, the high priest, in a gilt war chariot drawn by splendid brown steeds. He had, in former days, led troops forlh to battle, and had taken the lead of this pursuing army at the bidding of the gods, wearing his priest's robes, indeed, but also the helmet and battle-axe of a captain of the host. At last, close behind Bale's chariot, came Pharaoh himself; but he did not ride forth to battle in a war-chariot, as his bolder fore- fathers had done, but preferred to be borne on his throne. A magnificent canopy over his head screened him from the scorching sun, and to the same end he was surrounded by fan-bearers, carrying immense bunches of ostrich feathers fastened at the end of long fan sticks. When Menephtah had fairly left the city and the gate of victory behind him, and the triumphant shouts of the populace had ceased to keep him awake, he had fallen asleep ; and the spreading fans would have screened his face and person from the eyes of the prisoners if their cries of " Hail ! " had not been so loud as to rouse him and cause him to turn his head toward them. But the gracious wave of his hand showed that he had something else in his mind than criminals, and before the voices of the hapless convicts had died away his eyes were closed once more. Ephraim's dull brooding had given way to eager interest, and when the king's gilt chariot came past empty, drawn by the most splendid horses he had ever beheld, he brokt- out in admiration. These noble beasts, their clever heads crowned with ostrich plumes, and their harness glittering with gold and precious stones, were indeed a sight to sec . The large gold quivers, studded with emeralds, at the sides of the chariot, were full of arrows. The sleeping man. whose feeble hand held the reins of government of a grea; nation, the languid idler who shunned every sort of effort, recovered his energies as soon as he was in the hunting field, and he looked upon this expedition as a hunt on a grand scale ; and, inasmuch as it seemed to him a royal JOSHUA. »3^ sport to shoot his arrows at men instead of a brute game — at men, too, of whom he had but lately been in mortal dread — he had yielded to the high priest's behest and come with the army. The expedition had been sent forth by Older of Anion, so he could now have no further cause to fear the power of Mesu. When he should catch him he would make him repent of having struck terror to the heart of Pharaoh and his queen, and causing him to shed so many tears ! While Joshua was telling the youth from what Phoenician city the gilt chariot had been brought, he suddenly felt his wrist clutched by Ep'iraim, and heard him exclaim, " She — she — look, it is she ! '' The lad was crimson with blushes, nor was he mistaken, for there, in the same traveling chariot in which she had come to visit the prisoners, was Kasana, and many ladies besides formed part of the court accompanying the expedi- tion, which the captain of the foot soldiers, a brave old iron- eater of the time of the Great Rameses, called a mere party of pleasure. When the monarch went forth across the desert to do battle in further Syria, Libya, and Ethiopia, only a select party of women accompanied him, in curtained vehicles, under the conduct of eunuchs ; but on this occasion, though the queen had remained at home. Bale's wife and some other women of rank had set the example of going forth with the troops, and it had been a tempting opportunity to many to enjoy the excitement of war with- out running into danger. Scarcely an hour since, Kasana had surprised her old friend, the high priest's wife, by joining the rest, for only yesterday nothing could persuade the young widow to go forth with the host. Yielding to a sudden impulse, with- out asking her father, and with so little preparation that she had not the most necessary gear, she had overtaken the army ; and it seemed as though the magnet which had drav/n her was a man whom she had hitherto avoided, albeit he was no less a personage than Siptah, the king's nephew. As the cortege passed the sand-hill the prince was standing by the fair young woman in her waiting-woman's place, and interpreting to her with many a jest the symbo- lism of the flowers in a nosegay, while Kasana declared it could not have been intended for her, as not more than an I 140 yojiii/A. hour since she had had no idea of following the expedition. Siptah, however, assured her that even at sunrise the Hathors had revealed to him the happiness that was in store for him, and that the interpretation of these flowers proved it. A party of youthful courtiers, who had quitted their chariots or litters, were walking by tJic side of her carriage and taking part in the laughter and merry talk ; the high priest's wife also jnit in a word now and again, for her litter was bonic close by Kasana. All this had not escaped Joshua ; and as he saw Kasana with the prince, whom she had hitherto detested, rapping his hand with her f;in with gay audacity, his brow darkened, and he asked himself wlicthcr the young widow had not been cruelly mocking him in his overthrow. But at this moment the driver of the prison-gang caught sight of the curl on Siptah's tem[)le, which he wore as a badge of the blood royal, and his loud cry of '* Hail ! Hail ! " in which the other guards and the prisoners joined, attracted the attention of Kasana and her companion. They turned to look at the tamarisk thicket whence it came, and then Joshua could see that the young woman turned pale and, with a hasty gesture, pointed to the group. She must have given Siptah some behest, for the prince at first shrugged his shoulders, but, after some delay and argument, half in jest and half in earnest, he sprang from his chariot and beckoned to the driver of the gang. " Did these people gaze on the countenance of the kind god, the lord of both worlds ? " he asked in a voice so loud that Kasana must have heard him from the road ; and when he received a hesitating answer he went on in haughty tones : " No matter. At any rate they have seen mine, and that of the fairest women, and if. by reason of that, they hope for mercy they are justified. You know who I am. Tl ^se who are chained together are to be relieved of their ankle-fetters ; " then signing to the head gaoler he whispered in his car : "but you must keep your eyes open all the wider. That fellow close to the bush is th.at Joshua who was a captain in Pharaoh's nrniy. When I am at home again cnv^i and tell me whiat has beci)me of the man. The more completely you can quiet hi'.; the deeper shall I dip into my money-bag. Do you ur.dersiand .^ " The man bowed low and thought to himself : " I will take good care, my prince, and see that no one takes the JOSHUA. 141 ition. e the •as in owers uilted of her ' talk ; iin,for Casana apping •kcncd, lad not at this t of the t of the n which ted the jrned to nd then lale and, lusthave th rugged half in :iot and the kind voice so ad ; and haughty en mine, of that, (W who I llieved of ;aoler he |yes open [ Joshua I am at ithe man. r shall I " I will lakes the life of any of my moles. The greater these lords, the stranger and more bloody are their demands. How many an one has come to me with a similar request. Siptaii can release the feet of these poor wretclies, but he would load my soul will) a cowardly nuuvler ! But he has come to the wrong man! " Here, you fellows, bring the bag of tools this way aud s!;i';'.' the chains off these men's ankles." Pharaoh's husl moved on, and meanwhile the griiiding of files was heard on the hillock, tlie prisoners were freed from their fetters, and then for security their arms were tied. Kasana had desired Prince Sii)tah to have the poor creatures who were being led away to misery relieved at any rate of their heavy foot-chains ; and she frankly con- fessed that it was intolerable to her to see an officer who had so often been a guest in h.r own house so terribly humiliated. The high i)riesl's wife had seconded her wish, and the prince had been forced to yield. Joshua knew full well to whom he and Ephraim owed this respite, and received it with thankful gladness. Walking was made easier to him, but anxiety weighed him down more heavily than ever. The army which had marched i)ast would suffice to annihilate a foe ten times as great as the Hebrew force, to the very last man. His nation, and with them his father and Miriam, seemed doomed to a cruel death ; Miriam who had wounded him so deeply, but to whom he owed it that even in prison he had discerned the path which he now saw was the only light one. However powerful the God might be whose greatness the prophetess had so fer- vently extolled, to whom, indeed, he himself had learned to look up with fervent adoration \ the sweeping onslaught of this vast host must inevitably and utterly destroy a troop of unarmed and inexperienced herdsmen. This certainty, which each fresh division, as it passed by, made more sure, sank deep in his soul. Never in his life had he experienced such anguish ; and that pain was intensified as he beheld his own men — all well-known faces who had so lately obeyed 1 is word — under the orders of another. And it was to slaughter his own kith and kin that they were now marching to the field. This was a great grief, and Ephraim's state likewise gave him cause for fresh anxiety, for since Kasana's appearance and h.r intercession for him and his .'I is' \ i i I "V: ! ; i I 142 yosiiuA. companion in misfortune he had relapsed into silence, and gazed with wandering eyes either at the rear of the army or into vacancy. I^phraim was now freed of his irons, and Joshua asked the hid in an undertone whether he did not feel a longing to return to his people and to help them to resist so mighty an armament, but Ephraim only replied : " In the face of such a foe they liave no choice ; they must surrender. What indeed did we lack before our depart- ing from Zoan ? Vou were a Hebrew, as tlicy were, and yet you rose to be a mii^hty cai)lain among ihe Egyptians until you obeyed Miriam's call. I should have acted differently in your place." " What would you have done ? " asked Joshua. "What?" replied the boy, and the fiery young soul blazed uj) in him. ''What? I would have remained where honor and (iime were to be found, and everything that is good. You might have been the greatest of the great, the hajjpiest of the hapi)y ! I know it for certain, and you chor.e otherwise." " Because duty required it," said Joshua gravely ; " be- cause I never more will serve any one but the people of whose blood I am." " The ])eople ! " said the boy, contemptuously. " I know the people, and you too have seen them at Succoth ! The poor are abject creatures who cringe under the lash ; the rich prize their beasts above everything on earth ; and those who belong to the heads of tribes arc always quar- reling among themselves. Not one of them knows what is pleasing to the eye and heart. I am one of the richest of the nation, and yet I shudder to remember my father's house which I have inherited, though it is one of the largest and best. Those who have seen anything finer cease to care for that." At this the veins swelled in Joshua's brow, and he wrathfuUy reproved tlie lad who could deny his own race, and fall away like a traitor to his own tribe. But the driver commanded silence, for Joshua had raised his admonishing voice, and the defiant lad was well l)lcascd to obey ; and as they went on their way, whenever his uncle looked reproachfully in his face, or asked him whether he had thought better of it, he sulkily turned his back and remained gloomily silent, till the first star had risen, and, the pioneers having encamped on the waste for the night, their meagre fare was dealt out to them. yosiruA, HI , and uy or , and d not cm to plied : • must cpart- e, and ptlans acted ig soul 1 where thai is :at, the nd you i : " be- eople ot '■' I know h! The sh; the h ; and ,ys quai- ls what is richest father's of the ing finer elled in lad who ;or to his lua had I was well whenever kked him [irned his star had [waste for Joshua dug out a bed in the saifd wiih his hands, and kindly and skillfully heljjed his ncplicvv to do the same. Ephraim accepted his service in silence ; but presently, as they lay side by side, and Joshua began to speak to the boy of the God of his fathers in whose help they must ])ut their trust if they were not to perish of despair in the mines, F-jjliraim interrupted him, saying in a low voice but with fierce decisiveness : " They shall never get me to the mine?, alive. Sooner will I i)erish in the attempt to escape than die in such misery I " Joshua whispered a word of warning in his ear, and reminded him of his duty to his people. Jlut Kphraim only begged to be left to rest in ])eace. Soon after, however, lie lightly touched his uncle, and asked in a low voice : " What have they to do with Prince Siptah ? " '• I know not ; nothing good, that is certain. " ''And where is Aarsu, the Syrian, the commander of the .\siatic mercenaries, your enemy who watches us with such malignant zeal? I did not see him with the rest." " He remains in Tanis with his troo])s.'" " To guard the palace ? " " Just so." '' Then he is captain over many, and l^haraoh trusts him ? " " Entirely, though he hardly deserves it." " And he is a Syrian, and so also of our blood ? " '* At least he is nearer to us than the Egyptians, as you may know by his speech and features." " I should have taken him for a Hebrew ; and yet, you say he is one of the highest men in the army." " And other Syrians and Libyans are captains of large troops of mercenaries, and Ben Mazana, the herald, one of the greatest men about the court, whom the Egyptians have named ' Rameses in the Sanctuary of Ra,' is the son of a Hebrew father." " And he and the others are not looked down upon by reason of their birth ? " " It would scarcely be true to say as much as that. But what is the aim of all your questions ? " " I could not sleep." ^* And such thoughts as these came into your head ? 144 JOSITUA. Nay, you have something definite in your raind, and, if I guess it rightly, I am sorry. You wisli to enter Pliaraoh's service." After this there was a long silence between the two ; then ]''i)hraim si)oke again, and, although he addressed Joshua, he spoke rather as if to himself: " They will destroy all our nation, and those who escape will fall into slavery and disgrace. IJy this time my house is doomed to destruction, not a head of my great herds will be left to me, and the gold and silver 1 have inherited, and which is said to be a great sum, they will carry away with them ; for it is in your father's keeping, and must fall a booty into the hands of the Egyptians. And shall I, now that I am free, gf) back to my people, and make bricks ? Shall 1 bow my back to be flogged and ill-treated? " Here Joshua exclaimed in an eager whisjjer : •* Call rather on the God of our fathers to i)rotect and deliver His peoi)le ; and if the Most High has determined on the destruction of our nation then be a man, and learn to hate with all the might of your young soul those who have trodden them under foot. Flee to the Syrians, and offer them the strength of your young a ; give yourself no rest till you have taken revenge hose who have shed the blood of the Israelites, and cast you, innocent, into bondage." Then, again, there was silence, and nothing was to be heard from where r'.phraim lay but moans from an oppressed heart. At length, however, Joshua heard him murmur : " We are no longer weighed down by chains, and could I hate her who promised our release ? " " Be grateful to Kasana, but hate her people," he whis- pered in reply. And he heard the lad turn over in his trough, and again he sighed anr" groaned. It was past midnight; the growing moon stood high in the sky, and Joshua, still sleepless, did not cease to listen to his young companion; but Ephraim spoke not. Still sleep shunned him likewise, for Joshua heard liim grinding his teeth — or was it that some mice had wandered out to this parched spot covered with dry brown grass, between salt plains on one side and bare sand on the other, and were gnawing the prisoners' hard bread ? This grinding and gnawing must disturb the sleep even of those who most r yOSJJi\L '45 I, if I aoh's two ; csbcd scape house licrds Lvited, r away ist fall I, now )iicks ? 2Ct and rmined d karn )se who ,ns, and ^•oursclf ho have nocent, to be rom an id him d could llie whis- r in his high in to listen Still grinding d out to between cr, and ing and o most desire it, and Joshua, on the contrary, wished to keep awake that he might open the eyes of his blinded ncplicw. But he waited in vain for any sign of life on ICi)hraim's part. At last ho was about to lay his hand on the boy's shoulder, hut he paused as he saw in the moonligl.i ihal I'lihraim w;is iiolding up liis arm, althougli, l)eA)re he lay down, his wrist had been tied more tightly than before. J(>shua now understood thai the noise which hadpuz/led liim was the gnawing of the lad's sharp teeth as he W(H-kv.d at the knot of the cords ; so he sat up and looked first at the sky and then round about him. He held his breath as he watched the young fellow, and his heart throbbed painfully — Ephraim meant to escape I Me had even achieved the first step toward freedom. He hoped his goc^l fortune might follow him, but dreaded lest the fugitive might set forth in the wrong direction. This boy was the only child of his sister, a fatherless and motherless orpljan, so he had never had the advantage of those niunberless lessons and hints which only a mother can give, and which a proud young spirit w W take from none else. Strangers' hands had trained the young tree, and it had grown straight enough ; but a mother's love woidd have graced it with carefully selected grafts. He had not grown up on his parents' hearth, and that alone is the right home for the young. What wonder, then, that he felt a stranger among his own people ? At such thoughts as these great pity came upon Joshua, and with a consciousness of being deeply guilty in regard to this gifted youth, who had fallen into caj^tivity for his sake when bearing a message to him. Still, strongly as he felt prompted to warn him yet once more against treachery and faithlessness, he would not do so for fear of imperiling his enterprise. The least sound might attract the attention ' if the men on watch, and he was now so much interested in his attempt for liberty as though Ephraim were making it by his instigation. So, instead of tormenting him with useless admonitions, he kept his eyes and ears open ; his knowledge of life had taught him that good advice is oftener neglected than followed, and that personal experience is the only irrefragable master. Very soon his practiced eye discerned the path by which Ephraim might escape if only fortune favored him. He 10 ii' If ! ' '<! 1 I 1 '-f 146 JOSHUA. gently spoke his name, and then his nephew softly replied : *' Uncle, I can untie the cord if you put out your hands ; mine are free." At this Joshua's anxious face grew brighter. This bold- spirited youth was a good fellow at heart ; he was ready to risk his own success for the sake of an older man who, if he escaped with him, might only too probably hinder him in the path which, in his youthful illusion, he hoped might lead him to fortune. CHAPTER XIX. i 'iiii Joshua looked cautiously about him. The sky was still clear, though, if this north wind held, the clouds, which seemed to be coming up from the sea, would soon over- cast it. The air was sultry, but the men on watch kept their eyes open and relieved each other at regular intervals. Their vigilance would be hard to evade ; but close to the trough which formed Ephraim's bed, and which his uncle, for their greater comfort, had dug by the side of his own, on the gentle slope of a mound, a narrow rift widened to a ravine, its edge gleaming in moonlight with veins of white gypsum and sparkling ores. If the supple lad could but slip unseen into this hollow, and creep along it as far as the shores of yonder sail lake, overgrown with tall mares-tail and a thicket of desert shrubs, under cover of the gathering clouds he might succeed in his attempt. Having come to this conclusion, Joshua next considered, as calmly as though he were deciding on a route for his iroops, whether, if he had the use of his hands, he might be able to follow Ephraim without imperiling the boy's escape. But to this he could only find a negative ; for one of the watch was close at hand, sitting or standing on a higher point of the hillock, and in the bright moonlight he could not fail to see every movement if the lad untied his bonds. Moreover the clouds might j^erhaps have covered the moon before this was accomplished, and thus Ephraim might let the one favorable moment slip which promised, him release, and be led into danger on his ac- count. He was the boy's natural protector, and would it I- 1 JOSHUA, «47 f Ucd : .nds ; bold- ready who, under hoped 'as still , which )n ovcr- pt their nervals. e to the is uncle, lis own, widened veins of ,d could it as i"-v: ^vith tall cover of apt. iisidered, e for his [he might he boy's tive ; for Inding on [loon light ,d untied ,ps have and thus |llp which in his ac- would it not be base indeed to bar his way to freedom for the sake of a doubtful prospect of escape for himself. So he whispered to Ephraim : *' I cannot go with you. Glide along the rift to the right down to-ilie salt lake. I will keep an eye on the guards. As soon as the clouds hide the moon and I cough, creep away. If you succeed, fly to your people, greet my old father for me, assure him of my love and truth, and tell him whither I am being taken. Listen to his and Miriam's counsel ; it will be good. Now the clouds are gathering about the moon — not another word." Ephraim persisted in imploring him in the softest whisper to put forth his hands, but he bid him be silent, and as soon as the moon was shrouded, and the watch, who was pacing to and fro just at their head, had begun a con- versation with the man who came to relieve him, Joshua coughed gently, and then listened in the darkness with a throbbing heart and bated breath. First, he heard a slight rustle, and by the flare of the fire on the top of the slope, which the drivers now mended to keep off wild beasts, he saw that Ephraim's bed was deserted. At this he breathed more easily, for the ravine must by this tune hide the boy, and when he listened more sharply than before to catch a sound of creeping or slipping, he could hear nothing but the guards talking and their heavy footsteps. Their voices reached his ear, but not the words they spoke, so eagerly was he set on following the youth in his flight. How agile and how cautious the fugitive must be in his movements! He must still be in the ravine. The moon seemed to be struggling with the clouds, till for a moment the silver disk victoriously rent the heavy, black curtain which hid it from the eyes of men, and the long, bright shaft of light was mirrored in the motionless waters of the salt lake; Joshua could see everytb.ing that lay below him, but he detected nothing which bore any resemblance to a human figure. Had the lad met with some obstacle in the dell ? Was he checked by a cliff or a gulf in iis gloomy depths ? Or — and at this thought his heart seemed to stand still — had the abyss swallowed him up as he felt his way in the darkness ? Now he longed to hear a sound, the very % 148 JOSHUA. M* faintest^ from the depths of the rift. This stillness was-^ fearful. Ah ! sooner silence than this ! A clatter of falling stones and slipping earth came up too loud now through the still night. The moon, too, again peeped out from its veil of clouds, and Joshua saw, down by the pool, i. living form wliich seemed that of a beast rather than of a man, for it went along forefooted. And now the water si)lashed up in glittering drops. The creature, whatever it was. had plunged into the lake. And agai'i the clouds hid the moon, and all was dark. Joshua breathed more fi:,>ely, saying to himself that it was Ephraim whom he had seen, and that the fugitive, come what might, had gained a good start on his pursuers. But the men were not sleeping nor deceived ; for, al- though he cried out in order to mislead them, " a jackal ! " a shrill whistle rang out awaking all the sleepers. In a moment the driver of the gang was standing over him, a burning torch in his hand, and he heaved a sigh of relief when he saw his prisoner safe. It was not for nothing that he had tied him with double cords, for he would have been made to pay for it dearly if this man had escaped him. But, while the driver was feeling the rope that bound the Hebrew's wrists, the flare of the torch he held fell on the fugitive's empty resting place. The cords he had bitten through lay there yet, as if in mockery. The driver picked them up, cast them at Joshua's feet, whistled loudly again and again, and shouted : '* Gone ! Flown ! The Hebrew ! The younr^ one ! " And troubling himself no further about the elder prisoner, he at once began the search. Hoarse with rage, he gave his orders rapidly ; all were clear, and all forthwith obeyed. While some of his men collected the gang, counted them over, and bound them together with cords, the leader, with the rest, and helped by dogs, sought some trace of the fugitive. Joshua saw him bring the beasts 1 ) s.iuff at the cords Ephraim had gnawed through, a'u '^c place where he had lain, and then they started direct for the rapine. He breathed hard as he perceived that they linger d ihere some little time, and at last, just as the moon again came il rou-Ii the clouds, emerged on the shore and rushed down to t!ie water's edge. He was glad that Ephraim had waded JOSHUA. 149 was ling n its iving man, I shed i, had noon, ing to i that art on br, al- :kal 1 " In a him, a 3f relief nothing lid have )ed him. )und the fell on he had e driver iwhistled lone '. »risoner, all were his men ind them helped the cords -e he had me. He lere some O.rou-h Iwn to the id waded through it instead of running round it, for the dogs here lost the scent, and many minutes slipped by while the guards and the dogs, who poked their noses into every footprint left by the runaway, made their way round the shore to find the trace again. Then their loud tongue told Iiim that thev had recovered the scent. But even if they should track and run down the fugitive, the fettered warrior need not now fear the worst, for Ephraim had a long start of his pursuers ; still his heart beat fast, and time seemed to stand still till the drivf^r came back again exhausted and unsuccessful. But though he, a man of mid- dle age, could never have overtaken Ephraim, the two youngest and swiftest of his men had been sent after him, as he himself announced with scornful fur}-. The man, before so good-natured, was entirely changed; for he felt the lad's escape as a disgrace he could hardly get over, nay, as a i)ositive misfortune. And the wretch who had tried to mislead him by crying out " a jackal " was the fugitive's accomplice ! Loudly did he curse Prince Siptah who had interfered in the duties of his place. But it should not happen again, and he would make his victims suffer for his misfortune ! The prisoners were immediately loaded with chains again. Joshua was coupled with an asthmatic old man, and the whole gang were made to stand in a row. where the fire-light fell on them, till daybreak. Joshua could make no reply to the ques- tions put to him by his new companion in bonds ; he awaited in painful suspense the return of the pursuers. Meanwhile he strove to control his thoughts to prayer, beseeching the Lord, who had j)romised to be his Helper, on his own behalf and on that of his nephew. Often enough, to be sure, he was interrupted by the driver, who vented his wrath on him. However, the man who had in his day commanded a host submitted to all, and commanded himself to endure whatever came like the inevitable discomfort of rain or hail ; nay, it cost him some little effort to conceal his glad- ness when the young runners who had been after Ephraim came in after sunrise, breathless and with disordered hair, bringing with them nothing but a dog with a broken skull. The driver could do no more, therefore, than advise the soldiers in the first fort on the Etham frontier, which the \\ L Hi: :f. % ■■ 11 I i I 'V 150 yosnuA, prison-gang must now cross, of wli.it had lia])pcnrd ; and to this point the file of men were now led. Since Isj»hraim's lliglit all the men on guard had changed their tone for a harder one. Yesterday the unhappy wretches had been allowed to proceed at an easy pace ; now they were hurried on as fast as possible. Tlic day was sultry, and the scorching sun struggled with the storm- cloutls, whieh were gathering in the imrth into dense masses. Joshua's frame, inured to every kind of fatigue, could resist the severity of this forced march, but his more feeble companion, who had grown grt-y as a scribe, often stmnbled. antl at length lay where he fell. At this the driver saw the m-cessity of ])lacing the sufferer on an ass, and fettering Joshua to another coinimnion. This was the first man's brothei-, an overseer of the king's stables, a well grown l'",gyi)tian who was going to the mines for no other excuse than that it was his misfortime to be the brother of a stj'te criminal. Linked to this sturdy mate walking was nmch easier, and Joshua listened to him with sincere sym- pathy, and tried to cheer him when, in n low voice, he confided to him all his woes, lamenting sadly that he had left a wife and child at home in want and misery. Two of his children had died of the pestilence, and it weighed on his heart that he had been prevented from caring for their burial, for thus the two l)eings he had loved were lost to him for ever, even in the other world. At their second resting i)lace the bereaved father spoke more freely. His soul was consumed b\- thirst for revenge, and he took it for granted that his companion felt the same, seeing that he had fallen into disgrace from a high oftice. The overseer of the stables had a sister-in-law who was one of the ladies about Pharaoh's court, and through her and her sister, his wife, he had been informed that a conspiracy against the king was being hatched in the women's house.* Aye, and he knew too who it was that the wornen purposed to set in Menephtah's place. As Joshua looked at him with an inquiring and doubt- ful gaze his comrade whispered : " Siptah, the king's nephew, and his noble mother are at the head of the plot. If only I get free I will bear you in mind ; and my sister-in-law is sure not to forget me." * The \\( use of tlie secluded ones; equivalent to the harem of the Modern Moslem Egyptians j(KSf/r ,1. »5i gfd pry ICC i day )iin- cnse igue, 11 ore often s the 1 ass, LS ibe , will- olber her of g was : s) ni- ce, be le bad Fwo of i on bis r tbeir lost to spoke venge, c same, oftice. Ivas one licr and spiracy house.* irposed doubt- er are at you in ;m of the He then desired to know what hud brought the Hebrew to the mines, and Joshua frankly told him wjio he was. When the [Egyptian heard that he was linked logclher with an Hebrc-w, he tore madly at his c.h.iiiis and cursed his fate ; however, his wrath presently died out before the amazing coolness with which joshu;; (.-ndurcd the hardest things, and to Joshua hims(;lf it was a relict" that his jinrtncr besieged his far less often with comjilaints and fpieslions. I'\)r whole hours hev )ul(l w.ilkon uiunoK'slc(l, and give himself up wholly to his longing, to coliecliiig his thoughts, to giving himself a clear account of tiie teriihli; rxprrien* es which his soul had gone through in the hisl lew days, .i,nd to making up his mind to his new and dreadful situation. This silent meditation and intros|.'ction did him goixl; and, when they again st()pi)ed for the night, he enjoyed deej) and refreshing sleep. When he woke the stars were still bright in the wi,'stern sky, reminding him of the sycamore at Succoth. and the all-imi)ortant morning when his beloved had won him over to serve iicr (lod. Above him si)read the sparkling fnma- ment, and for the first time he was conscious of a budding ho])e that the Almighty Creator (jf heaven and earth might find some way and means of saving tlie peo|)le He had called His own from the overwhelming host of the Egyp- tian s. When he had thus frvently besought the Lord to spread His protecting hand over the feeble tribes who, in obedience to His word, had left so much behiuc hem, and had so confidently set forth for the remv)te unknown, he com- mended his old father, whom he himself could not defend, to His especial care, and his soul was filled with wondrous peace. The shouts of the men on guard, the rattle of fetters, his wretched fellow-vittims, everything about him kept him in mind of the fate before him. He inust henceforth toil day and night in abject slavery, in a sweltering, choking cavern, bereft oi the joy of breathing the fresh air of heaven, or of seeing the sunshine; loaded with chains, flogged and reviled, starving and athirst, in a gloomy monotony of misery, agonizing alike to body and sold ; and yet not for a moment did he lose his confident trust that this fearful fate was intended for anv other rather than for him, and that something would int'rvenc to preserve him from it. I If. r . I 152 JOSHUA. 11! On Uicir ftirlhor nuircli eastward, which l)c\:;an at dawn, he could only think of this confidence as folly, while he strove to cling fast to it, and he succeeded. Their way lay across tjic desert, and after a few hours' brisk ni.irch tliev reached the first fort, called " Seti's Stronghold." In the clear air of the desert they had seen it for a long time, looking as though tley could shoot an arrow into it. It stood up from the bare, stony soil, ungraced by a palm or a shrub, with its wooden stockade, it., ramparts, its scari)ed wall, its watch-tower looking westward, with a broad, Hat roof swarming with men at arms. The garrison had been warned from Pithom that the Hebrews were prejiaring to break through the frontier lines on the isthmus, and the gang of i)risoners with their guards had been taken from a distance for the van of the emigrant Israelites. I'Voni ti)e toj) of the huge bastions, which projected like balconies from all sides of the scarped ivalls to prevent the use of scaling ladders, soldiers were spying out between the battlements at the apj)roaching party ; but the archers had replaced their arrows in the quivers, for it had at once been percei\ ed that the troop was a small one, and a run- ner had delivered the pass from the military authorities, desiring the captain of the garrison to permit the file of prisoners to cross the frontier. The door in the palisade was thrown upon to th m, and the driver gave them leave to stretch their limbs a while on the hot pavement within. From hence none could escape, even if the guard left them to themselves ; for the fence was too high to climb, and arrows shot from the roof of the building or from the loop- holes of the projecting battlements would overtake the run- away. It did not escape the warrior's eye thijt everything here was in a state of jireparation for resistance, as though it were war-time. Every man was at hi;; post, and guards stood by the great metal gongs on die roof with heavy millets in th.eir hands to beat an alarm at the approach of the expected foe ; for, though there was not a tree or a house to be seen as far as the eye could reach, the sound would ring out to the next fort on the frontier line, and warn the garrison, or bring them to the rescue. It was not indeed a punisliment, but a piece of ill-fortune to be quartered in these isolated desert stations, and the chiefs JOSHUA. 153 iwn, le he ours' Scli's seen ot an soil, kadc, oking len at n that on tier \ their of the cd hke cnt the ctwecn archers at once I a riin- lorities, ^ file of )alisadc m leave within, ft them Lib, and le loop- he run- Ing here jough it guards |i ^heavy each of tee or a sound |nie, and It was le to he le chiefs of Pharaoh's army took care tliat the same companies did not rt.'inain loo long at a lime in this wilderness. Josliua liiniscll' liad in former years eonnnanded ilie most soulherly of thtse strongholds, k:;o\vn ;is Mijjdol of the South ; for the name of Migdol was conunon to them all, uieanlng iii llie Semiiie loii;^ue a foiires: town. Mere his i)i'o[)h.,- weie evidently sill! e\i)e('leil ; nor coidd he for a momrnl ihiiik tliat Moses wowKl Ir.ive led them back into Jvgypt. Milher they hail lingered in Suecoth, or they had marched southwards ; but to the south l;iy the bitter lakes and the Red Sea, and how should the Hebrew mul- titude cross those deep waters ? Joshua's lieart beat anxiously as lie rellected on this, and his fears were ])re- sently confiniietl, for he heard the cai)lain of the forlre^.s telling the driver of the gang that the Hebrews had come some da)'s since veiy near the frontier-line of defence, and then had turned off to the southward. Since then, it would seem that they had been wandering in the desert between Pithom and the Red Sea. All this had forthwith been reported at Tanis, but the king had been obliged to po:it pone the departure of the army till after the s ven first days of deep mourning for the heir to the thrc le. This delay might luive given the Israelites an immense advan- tage ; but a message had to-day come by a pigeon, announ- cing that the foolishmultitudewere encamjjed at Pihahiroth, not far from the Red Sea, so that it would be an easy task for the army to drive them into the waters like a herd of cattle, for tliere was no escape in any other direction. The driver had listened to this rej)ort with much satis- faction, and he whispered a few words to the captain, pointing at Joshua, who, for his part, had already recog- nized the oflicer as a compani'.;n in arms who had served under him as a centuii;in, an.d to whom he had shown much kindness. It nv;is j^ainful t(; him to reveal h.imself in this miserable plight to one who had been his subaltern, and who owed him a debt of obligation; and as he looked at him, the cai)tain c.< lored, shrugged his shoulders expres- sively, as if to convey to Joshua his pity for liis ill-fortune and the imiDOSsil)iiity of doing anything to mend ii. Then he said in a voice s > loud ih;it the Hebrew must hear him: '• I am forbidden by tlie rules to speak with your prisoners, but I knew that man in better days, and 1 will send you out some wine, which you will share with him, I beg," »54 JOSHUA. % When they presently went towards the gateway, the driver remarking that Joshua was less deserving of such fa\or than other and weaker men, inasmuch as he had assisted the runaway of whom he had spoken to make his escape, the captain pushed his fingers through his hair and replied : " I could have wished to show him some kind- ness, though, indeed, he owes me much already. But if that is the case I had better keep my wine. And you have rested quite long enough here ! " The driver wrathfully roused his hapless gang to pro- ceed on their way across the desert and onward to the mines. Joshua now walked with a bowed head. His spirits rebelled against the ill-fortune which had led him to this pass, driven across the desert, far from his i)eople id his fiilher, who must be in great danger at this decisive and fateful crisis. Under his guidance the Hebrews might perhaps have found a way of escape 1 He clenched his fists with rage to think that his will as well as his body was in chains ; and yet he would not lose heart ; and each time thai his reason told him that his pcoi)le were los*^, that tliey must perish in this contest, his own name — the new name bestowed on him by God — sounded in his ears, and his hatred and scorn for everything Egyptian, fanned into life by the young officer's base conduct, flamed up afresh. His whole nature was in violent revolt, and as the driver marked his burning cheeks and the lurid light in his eye, he thought that even this strong fellow had become a prey to the fever to which so many prisoners fell victims on their way. AVhen, at sundown, the melancholy train encamped for the night in the heart of the desert, Joshua's spirit still seethed and surged within him, and the scene around him matched well with the tumult in his soul. Again the black clouds came up from the sea on the nordi wind, which howled, and shrieked, and whirled clouds of burning sand over the prisoners as they lay, till the lightning and thun- der broke over them with a deluge of rain. A thick layer of sand for their coverlet, pools and rivulets were now their bed. Their keepers had bound them together by the arms and legs, and as they stood, shivering and dripping, they still held the ends of the roi)es ; for the night was as black as the fuel ef the fires the storm had extinguished, and JOSHUA, 'J> who could have followed a runaway through such darkness and such weather? But Joshua had no thoughts of flight. While the Kgyptians whimpered and quaked, believing that they heard the angry voice of Set in the thunder, and while blinding sheets of flame flared among the clouds, he felt tlie near presence of that jealous God, whose rage he hared, whose hatred was as his own. Here he stood, the witness of His All-destroying i)ower, and his breast swelled with pride as he said to himself that he had been called to wield the sword of the Lord of Lords. W r I CHAPTER XX. The storm which had risen at nightfall was still sweeping r)ver the ])cninsula. High waves beat in the central lakes, ;ind the Red Sea, which formed two creeks from the south, like the horns of a snail, was tossing wildly. Further north likewise, where Pharaoh's army had just encamped under shelter of the Southern Migdol, the strongest of the Etliam frontier fortresses, the air was filled with sand by the sto:m ; and in the quarters of the king and his nobles hammers were kept constantly at work, driving the tent pegs deeper into the ground ; for the brocades, cloth and linen, of which Pharaoh's wandering residence and its sur- roundings were formed, were so beaten by the wind that they threatened to pull up the poles which supported them. Black clouds hung in the north, yet the moon and stars were often visible, and distant lightning frequently illumin- ated the darkness. But dews of heaven still seemed to shun this rainless tract of land, and fires burnt in every direction round which thick circles of soldiers were gathered, and, like a living screen from the storm, crowded together for protection. The men on watch had trying work, for, in spite of the north wind, the air was stifling, and con- tinually blew gusts of sand full in their faces. At the most northern gate of the camp only two sentries walked to and fro, keeping a sharp lookout, but they were sufficient ; for in consequence of the bad weather it was a long time since anyone had appeared to demand either admission or exit. At last, three hours after sunset. S ! Z 'i i IS6 yosiiUA. a slender lad, half boy, half youth, appeared. He went, with steady step, up to the watch, and, showhig him a messenger's token, asked the way to Prince Siptah's tent. He looked as if he had had a difficult journey; his thick black hair was disheveled, and his feet covered with dust and cp.kcd in mud. Yet he roused no suspicions, for his manner was independent and free, his messenger's pass in perfect order, and the letter which he bore clearly directed to the prince ; a scribe of the granary who was sitting at the next fire, with other officers and vice-com- mandants, confirmed the fact. Since the youth's appearance pleased most of them, and as he came from Tanis and perhaps brought news, he was invited to take a place at the fire and to share their meal; but he was in haste. Thanking them, he refused, answered their questions shortly and quickly, and asked one of the company to be his guide. Immediately one of them put himself at his disposal. But he was soon to learn that it was not easy to achieve seeing a member of the royal household ; for the tents of Pharaoh, his relations and dignitaries stood apart in the very heart of the camp, enclosed by the shields of the heavily armed foot-soldiers, and when he tried to pass in he was referred from one to another, and his mes- senger's token and the prince's letter were repeatedly examined. His guide was also dismissed, and in his place an official of high rank, known as " the eye and the ear of the king," came forward, and .began to meddle with the seal of the letter, but the bearer very decidedly demanded the missive back ; and directly he had it in his hand once more he went towards two tents, standing side by side and shaken by the wind, which were pointed out to him as those of Prince Siptah and Kasana, Hornecht's daughter, for whom he also inquired. A chamberlain came out the prince's tent, to whom he showed the letter he bore, requesting him to conduct him to his lord ; but the official having desired him to hand the letter to him instead of to the prince, Ephraim, for he it was, consented to do so on condition of the chamberlain's forthwith procuring him admission to Kasana's presence. The steward seemed most anxious to get the letter into his own hands. After he had examined F.phraim from top to toe, he a'sked him whether Kasana knew him, and when j\s//^/,. «57 ivenl, im 11 tent, thick I dust )r his pass Icarly I) was ;-com- n, and ic was meal ; estions y to be i at his Dt easy Id ; for 3 Stood shields ;ried to lis mes- )eatedly is place e ear of vhh. the manded nd once side and him as aughter, out the He bore, e official ad of to do so on ing him ;tter into from top nd when the other answered in the affirmative, and added that he brought a verlxil message fur iicr, the Egyptian sntiling said, '* Good, then ; but wc must proUct our carpets from such feet, and you seem Uj me aliogcthcr exhausted and in neeil of rvfreshmenl. l'\)!l')W mc !'' Thercui)on he lc<l Jiim into a little tent, before which an old slave and another, vv'ho was still almost a child, sat by the fire concluding their late meal with .i bunch of garlic. On seeing tlieir master they sprang \i\) ■ he ordered the old man to wash the messenger's feet, and tlie young one to fetch, in his name, meat, bread and wine from the l)riuce'ri tent. He llien look l'!i 'iraim into his own tout, which was lighted by a lantern^and asked him how it was that he, who had looked so little like a serf or a common fellow, had such a forlorn appearance. Then the messenger answered that he had on his way bound uj) the woimds of a severely injured man with his up])er garment, so the steward at once reached towards his packages and handed him a wrapper of fine linen. Ephraim's reply, which was very near the truth, was given with such promptness, and sounded so genuine, that iL was believed; and the steward's kindness so over- whelmed hiin with gratitude that he made no objection, when, M'ith a practiced hand, and without damaging the seal, he pressed the flexible roll of papyrus, bent the separate layers apart, and, peei>ing in the opening, acquaint- ed himself with the contents of the letter. At the same time the burly courtier's eyes glistened brightly, and it seemed to the youth that the man's face, which at first had appeared to him with its comfortable fullness and rounded smoothness the mirror of great good nature, had become like that of a cat. As soon as the steward had finished this operation, he begged the boy to rest himself thoroughly, and he did not return until Fphraim had bathed and stood with the new linen cloth round his loins, his hair anointed and scented, looking in the mirror, and in the act of putting a broad gold hoop round his arm. He had hesitated for some time, as he knew he was about to face great dangers ; this bracelet, however, was his only valuable possession, and he had taken great trouble during his captivity to keep it hidden in his loin-cloth. It might yet render him good service, but if he wore it it ri ! 'I 158 yos//(\i. ■would attract attention to his person and increase his risk of being rccogni/cd. Bui the image he saw reflected in the mirror, his vanity, and the wish to find favor in Kasuna's eyes triumphed over prudence, and the costl) ornament was soon shining on his arm. The chamberlain gazed with amazcm .lU at the transformation of the r.n kempt messenger in a proud looking youth, and the (picstion rose to his lips whether he were some kin to Kas- ana, and when Kphraim replied in the negative, he asked to what fnnily he belonged. At tliis, E[)hraini stood for some time with downcast eyes, nnd besought the Egyptian to excuse him from repl} ing till he should have spoken to Kasana. The otliei shook his head doubt ingly as he looked at him, but he urged him no further, for wliat he had discovered from the letter was a secret which might cost all who knew it their life, and the handsome young bearer must surely be the son of some great man implicated in the i)lot of his master, Prince Sii)tah. The stout, well-fed courtier "hivered at the thought; and it was with a sympathetic qualm that he looked at this blooming llowcr of humanity, so young to be mixed up in such perilous schemes. His lord had so far only hinted at the secret to him, so he could still cut himself adrift from sharing his master's destiny. If he parted from him, he miglit look forward to an old age of ease; but if he clung to him, and if tlie prince's plot should conic to a good issue, to what heigh-, miglit he not rise ! How terril)ly imjjor- tant was the choice which he, the fatlicr of a large ftimily. was called upon to make; the sweat stood on his brow, and he was quite incapable oi clear rellection, as he con- ducted Ephraim to Kasana's tent and then hastened to his master's. All was still in the slight erection of wooden poles and heavy, bright-colored stuffs which sheltered the fair widow. It was with a beating heart that Ephraim- approached the entrance, and when at length he took courage and pushed aside the curtain which was pegged to the ground, the wind filling it like a sail, he saw a dark room opening on either hand into another. That to the left was as dark as the centre one ; but from the right, liglits gleamed tlirough the seams in the canvas. The tent was one of the long flat-roofed shape, in three yosnrA. '59 !? IS risk Hcctcd vor in costly ;)erlain he 11 n- id the o Kas- skcd to )WiKast n rcpl} e other , but he rom the it their f be the , master, ^ht; ar.d i at this ed up in hinted at ift from him, he e clung od issue, y imp-or- family. IS brow, he con- ed to his joles and ir widow. Lched the d pushed the ^vind on either irk as th.e rough the m three compartments, such as lie had often seen ; and in the room whence the Hght ])rocecded, no doubt, was she to .whom lu" came. To avoid any further suspicions he must overcome liis timidity, and he liad already stooped to untie the knot by which tlie curtain was held to the peg in the ground, when that of the lighted compartment was raised, and a woman's figure came info the dark rnlranee-room. Was it she? Slnnild he venture to address her? Vcs, he must. He clenched his nands tightly, and wiih a deep breath collected his courage, as though he were about to rush ujion a beast of i-rey i)r()\vling round a flock. Then he ])ushed the curtain aside and was met with a cry from the woman he had before ohserved ; and he soon recovered his courn'/e, for it was not Kasana but the waitiuLT woman who had C(^me with her to see the i)risoners, and had accomijanietl her to the camp. She rcco";iii/,cd him, too, a)id stared at him as though he had risen from ih.c dead. They knew each other well ; for, the first time he had hecn carried to Mornechl's house, it was she who had ])repared his bath and laid balsam on his wounds ; and on the second occasion when they h.id been inmates under the same roof, she and her mistress had nur-;ed him. For many an hour had they chatted togeilier, and he knew that she was fond of him, for as he lay half couscious, half (h/ed with feverish dreams, she would soothe him with a motherly touch, and, as he grew stronger, was never weary of questioning him about his people, telling him that she herself was a Syrian, of kindred blood to the Hebrews. Indeed, his language was not altogether strange to her, for it was as a woman of twentv that she had been brought to Egypt wiih other ]>risoncrs by Ramescs the Great. Ephraim, she would say, reminded her of her one son when he was younger. From this woman he had nothing to fear ; he seized her hand, and said in a low voice that he had escaped from his guards, and had come to ask counsel of her mistress and herself. The word " escaped " was enough to reassure the old woman, for spirits, as she understood the word, were wont to put others to flight, but not to flee. She stroked the lad's curls, and, before he had finished speaking she had left him, hurrying off into the other room to inform her mistress that he stood without. In a few minutes Ephraim was in the presence of the I I- : r6o JOSHUA. woman who had become the guiding star and waiming sun of liis h'fe. With flushing checks he gazed up at her lovely features, and although it stabbed him to the heart that, before she even vouchsafed him a greeting, Lnc inquired whether Joshua were with him, he forgot that foolish pang as he noted with what kindness she looked at him. And when she asked the strong woman whether she did not think him looking fresh and well, and ^x( wn more manly, he felt as though he was really taller and bigger, and his heart beat higher than ever. She insisted on knowing all that had happened to his uncle, down to the smallest detail ; then after he had done her bidding, and at last indulged his desire to speak of his own fortunes, she interrupted him to consult with the older W( rnan as lo how he might be sheltered from malignant eyes and fresh dangers ; and the means were soon found. First, with Ephraim's help, the nurse closed the first entrance to the tent as completely as })ossiblc, and she then showed him the dark room, into which he was to vanish as quickly and ;ioisclessly as possible whenever she should give him a sign. Kasana meanwhile had pou'ed out a cup of wine for the returned wanderer, and when he came in again with the old woman, she bid )iim lie down on the giraffe skin at her feet, and asked him herself how he had got away from the watchmen, and what he looked to do in the future. She must tell him, in the first instance, that her father had remained at Tanis, so he need have no fear of being recognized and betrayed by Horn^ cht. It was easy enough to see and hear how glad she was at this meeting ; nay, when Ephraim told hor that it was in consequence of Prince Siptah's orders that the prisoners should be unfet- tered — which they owed solely to her — that he had been able to make good his escape, she clapped her hands like a child. But then he'- brow darkened, and she added with a sig!., that Joshua should see how much a woman, hovr'ever weak, could sacrifice to attain the dearest wish of her heart. Ephraim's assurance, thr' before he himself stole away he had offered to relcas'> his uncle, met with its meed of kind words ; and when she learned that Joshua had refused his nephew's help in order that he might not imperil the success of the plan he had suggested to him, she exclaimed to her waiting woman, with tears in her JOSHUA, i6t liming at her : heart g, i.he n that )kcd at icr she 11 more bigier, led on 1 lo the ■g) ^'^^^ ;:!itimes, an iis to ad fresh the first and she : was to whenever le for the with the : skin at way from le future . ther had of being was easy meeting ; ^uence of be unfet- had been iands like |he added . woman, .rest wish lie himself met with lat Joshua night not d to him, Irs in hei- eyes, that .lO one but he could act so uobly ;, ..itd she listened eagerly to the rest of his tale, iiitorrupling him frequently with sympathetic questions. So blissful a close to the fearful days and nights he had just passed seemed to him as a beautiful dream, a bewil- dering romance ; and he did not need the encour.igcmcnt. of the cui> she dili^'-Ulv tilled for him to m;ikc him t; II his story with eager vivacity. With an eloquence altogeth'.-r new to him ho described how, in the ravine, he had slipped on a loose stone, and had fallen with it headlong to the bott')m. There he had tliought that all was l;)st, for soon after he had shaken himself ck.'ar of the rubbish in which lie was buried to hurry down to the salt lake, h.e had heard the driver's whistle. However, from Ins childhood he had always been a good runner, and he had learned in his native fields how to read his bearings by the stars, so^ without looking to the ri"'^it hand or the left, he had ilown on as fast as his feet won id carry him lo the south, always to the south. Manv times had he fallen in the dark over stones or i)its in the desert sand, but only to spring uj> again and luirry on, rush on, to where he knew tliat she, Kasana, was — she for whose sake he would unhesitatingly cast to the winds all that wise heads could advise — she for whom he was ready to give life and liberty. How he found courage to make this confession he knew not. Nor was he sobered by the rap she gave him with her fan, or by the old woman's exclamation, "A boy like that ! " No ; his beaming eyes only sought her gaze, as they had done before, while h.e went on with ids story. He had hurled the dog which had come up with him against a rock ] the other he had driven off by plunging a stone at him till he retreated whining into a thicket. He had seen nothing of any other [)ursaers neither that night nor all the next day. At last he reached a high road and came up with some country-folk, who told him which way the king's army had marched. Then, about midday, being overcome by fatigue, he had gone to sleep in the shade of a sycamore, and when he wo]:c the sun was near sinking. He was dreadfully hungry, so he had pulled a few turnips in a field as he passed by; but the owner had immediately corae forward from a water course at hand, and it was with difficulty that he had escaped from his pursuit. During part of the next night he had kept to the high road, and 11 't t ' ■?i' f "A l62 yosfiuA. \ lud rested at last by a well on the way, for he knew that wild beasts shuii much rrcc[uented spots. After sunrise he had set forth again, following the road the army had taken, and had come upon its traces everywhere. Shortly before noon, when he was (juite exhausted and sick with fasting, he came to a village lying close lo liie fertile tract watered by the Seti canal, and had considered whether it would noi be well lo sell his gold bracelet to purchase some good nourishment, and keep some silver and copjier coin for future need ; but he had feared being taken for a thief i.nd cast into prison again, for the thorns had been liis raiment. and his sandals had long since dropj^ed from his feet. He had thought that Iiis misery must move even the hard- hearted to pity, so he ]iad knocked at a door and bcgg.va, bitter as it had heen to liim. However, he got nothiiig from the peasant but a scornful admonition that such a sli(/ug young fcliow as he might work for his living, and leave begging to the weak and old. A second had threatened him with a thrashing ; however, when he had gone some way fin-ther, feeling very crestfallen, a yomig woman, who had seen him at the niggard's door, came after him and put a cake of bread with a few dates into his hand, hastily telling him that the village had been heavily taxed in the course of Pharaoh's progress, or she would have given him something better. No banquet had ever before tasted so sweet to him as this unlooked-for gift, which he cat by the next well ; but he did not confess to Kasana that it had been embittered by the doubt as to whether he should obey Joshua's counsel and return to his own people, or follow his heart's desire which drew him to her. He had started again, still undecided, but fate seemed to have taken the matter into her own hands. After he had walked on about half an hour longer, on reaching the edge of the desert he had come upon a youth of about his own age, sitting by the way side and moaning as he held one of his feet in both hands. He had gone up to him at his call, and to his surprise had recognized him as Hornecht's runner and messenger, with whom he had often spoken. " Apoo ! our nimble Nubian ? " interrupted the lady ; an: Ephraim went on to tell her that this messenger had bii.:, sent to carry a letter to Prince Siptah in all haste, and i\u swift-footed, lad, who was wont to outrun his master',:. horses, would have flown like an arrow, and have rcnc! .1 JOSHUA. 163 I \A 7 that ise he taken, before isling, aicied iltl noi c good Din fo-. ief and limcnl, et. He e liavd- ngfiom I strong id leave rcatencd lie some lan, who and put i, hastily cd in the dven him tasted so at by the at it had uld obey or follow |d started :aken the on about jdesert he pitting by .is feet in [11, and to nner and lady; an.: Ihad b^Li. and iVi^ master''. le rcachv.i. his destination in two hours, if he had not trodden on a fragment of broken glass, a bottle crushed by some chariot wheel, and the cut was dreadfully deep. " And you liclped him?" asked Kasana. " Could I do otherwise? " was the answer. *' He had half-bled to death already, and was as pale as a sheet. So T carried him to the nearest canal and washed the gaping wound, and applied some ointment he had with him." '• I put it in his pocket a year ago, in a small pot," said the nurse, who, being easily moved, was wiping her eyes ; and Ephraim confirmed the fact, for Apoo had mentioned it with gratitude. Tiien he went on : " And I tore my tunic into strips, and bound it up as best T might. But he urged me all the while to make haste, . id held out the token and the roll which his master had entrusted to him, and, knowing nothing of the mis- fortunes which had befallen me, he charged me to carry the letter to the prince in his stead. Oh I how gladly I undertook to do so, and the second mile was not ended when I reached the camp. The letter is in the prince's hands and here am I. I can see by your face that you are well pleased. As for me — ^so happy as I am to sit here at your feet and guze n\) at you, so thankful as I am to you for leaving listened to me so patiently, surely no one ever was in this world 1 And if they put me in chains I will bear it quietly if only you remain kind. My woes have been so many I I have neither father nor mother — no one to love me. Only you. I love none but you, and you will not repel me, will you? " He s^)oke the last words like one in a frenzy. Carried away by his pn -sion, and inca[)able, after the terrible strain of the la^. days and hours, of governing the over- whelming storm of his feelings, the lad sobbed aloud. He was scarcely past childhood yet, he had only himself 10 trust to. lie had been torn and severed from all that had over upheic and controlled him, and, like a young bird taking refuge under its mother's wings, he hid his face in Kasana's Ian, weeping violently. Deep comjiassion came over the tender-hearted young woman, and her eyes, too, were moist. She gently laid her iiand on his hair ; and as she felt the shudder which ran through the boy's whole frame, she raided his head in both hands, kissed his forehead and cheeks, and smiling through tears, as she looked into his face, said : it {:■;::■ 164 yosifr.i. 11 r- \ o\\ poor, I'uolisli lii-y ' Why should I nol \n kind, over n'lH-l \oii ? \' oiii 1111! Ic IS Uu- in;m (h;ii('sl lo iiic ii the world. ;ind vou aw lil.' his son. To scivc hint .iiid yon I h.ivr nhciulv 'onscnUd lo do di.it \\hi(li I Isk! .dw.iys utterly lo.itlu'd, relnsed. mav, and whatever others ni.u- t'lnik oi sj\ ol nu lUt nc'W. eoine W h;i I wd not eaie if on Iv I Is can sne< I ( d ni (h lin;; that lor whi( will i;ive ni\' lite and all I hold mo! I di poor. vehenuMtt Inty," aiul again she ki^ h I ( )nl\ wail, ( net I shall ind a wav for \()U. too Ni w t IKtl r." o I thij She spokt> Inndy, and the woids were enough to ( hei k llie exeiled lad" ■ i-xetled mood. Ihit suddenly she sprang up, eiying in tei i lin d haste ; " I'ly, lly. hegoni' instantly ! " A man's footstep appioaehing the tent and a wainmg word \\o\\\ the waiting woman had brought the luief com niand to Kasan.i's lips, and Mphraiin's keen ear told him what had roused her fears, ami (hove him foithwith into tlu^ dark chamber, wiiere he eoiild satisfy himself that a moment's hesitation would iiave betrayed liim. 'ITic <"ur l.iin of the tent was lifted and a man walked straight tlirtnigh the anteroom to the lighted apartment whei' Kasana— for that, too, he eoukl hear- greeted some n( v, guest otdy too wainih. and as though suriuisi-d at hi- roming so late. The wailing woman snatched up lu-r o\\Ji nun Ih" to tiirow ov(M' the lad's bare shoulders, and she whispend to la'ngei near the tent sometime before stmrise. but nm \^ tlo n«M coiiie in till 1 call vou if 3 on love V( ui lil ou have neither father nor mother, and my child Kasana — ,1 loving heart is hers, a heart of gold ~ slu" is the best of all that is good; but whethiM* slu^ is 111 lo guick* a l(^oi' I) scapegrace who bmiis for her like diy stiaw is ipiite an- other matter. As I listened to your story I thought of many things, and as I mean well by you I will tell yoii something : Vou have an uncle who is the nobl(>st of men. T know what men are, and so far my Ka;;ana is right. |)i) his bidding, it will be for your good. Obey him ! And if his orders take you far from heie and fiom Kasann, so much ihc bettor for you. Wo walk in daug«. .ous places, and if it were not for Joshua's sake I sho; Id have doiu everything in my power to hold her back. Ef '* lin: — well, T am an old wom.an, but for that man oven ' vou Id go through fire and water. I grieve more than I can say for yosf/r.L 165 I ml, I' ■ m<' i'; in MMtl 1 h.'ul 1 \\\\\ lurl» 1 V wiiil, ■IuhUs. 1 this." ) ( luM k s\>r;\n}; aiUly !" AinniniJ, I'f « oin «)U1 liini ;\\\\ into it" tb;it ;i Tlic <-ni stvait-^li' a wlui' mm- n< V, .-a at M' nai lU' >" sju'iid to luiso. but iisaiia — .1 rsl <if ;t'l a b'or 1' I null"; 1 irll ,t ol" men. asana, so liH have ph tli;il pure, swccH cliild. .ind lor yoii who arc so hko what my owi. son was ; hut I s;iy oner more, ohcy yotir nnclc, h()\', 01 yoM will conic to ;ni evil end, ,ind that would he a pity iiidc'd ! " 'rhrii, wilhoiit Wiiitiiif^' for a reply, she |»iislied him t()W;ii(Is one of ihe opeiini|;;. in the canv.is w;dl of" the tent, and wailed till {''phiaini iiad wrif^i;led oiil. Then she dried hei eyes and went l)a( k into thf lijdit'"d room as ihou'^h hy ( han( (• ; hnt Kasana and her Iclaled vi'-itf)r \\.\{\ matters to discuss which allowed of no witness, and her " (h'ar cliild " only Miffercd her to lijdit her own little lam|) .it the three armed ( andelahrum, and then sent her to l)ed. She sulimilled ; hut in the darkened room, where lier heil stood not far from her mistress', she lay down, and then, covering her face,' with her hands, wept in silence. vould go Ian say fo' c: HA I'll-: R XXI. KiMiKAiM crci)t round tlie tent he had quitted, pressing one ear against the canvas wall. lie very caaitiously imdid a few stitches in one of the seams, and so could see as well hear what was going on in the lady's sitting-room, 'riic storm kej)t eveiy one within shelter who was not compelled hy service to turn out, and I'.phraim had the less reason to fear discovery because the spot where he crouclied was in deej) shade. 'J'lie old nurs(;'s cloak was wrapped about him, and though a shudder again and again ran through his yoinig limbs, it was bitter grief that caused it and anguish of soul. He saw Kasana's head resting on tlic breast of a prince, a great and powerful lovi-r, and the capricious false one (lid not even forbid the bold suitor when his lips sought hers for the ki .ses he desired. She owed no faith to l\pliraim indeed, but her heart was his uncle':; ; she pre- ferred him above all men, she had declared herself ready to endure the worst to procure his free(h)m, and now he saw with his (nvn eyes thai she was false and faithless, and giving to another that wliich by right was Joshua's alone. To l''phraim himself she had shown favor — the mere crumbs which fell from [oshua's table, and even that, as he f ' '>.'■■ I .•■: I i ■ 166 JOSHUA. ! confessed with a blush, was a robbery from his uncle ; and ho fell himself injured, wounded and betrayed, and on fire with jealousy in behalf of his uncle, whom he hon- ored, nay, and loved, though he had contravened his wishes. And Joshua? He, like Ephraim himself, and like that princely i)ersonagc, like every one in short, must love her in sjiite of his strange demeanor at the wayside well ; it could not possibly be (otherwise; and she, snfe from the vengeance of llie unhappy prisoner, was abandoning her- self witli cowardlv l.uiseness to the caresses of another ! Sii)tah, as he liad learnt from their last mtx'ting, was his uncle's foe ; and foi- him, of all men, she was bctra}'ing the man she loved. Through the slit in the tent cloth he Cwuld see all thai went on within, but lie closed his eyes to avoid seeing many things. More often, indeed, the odious si)ectacle riveted his ga/e with a mysterious si)ell, and then he longed to tear the tent wider, to fell the loathed foe, and speak words of stern reproof to the faithless woman in Joshu.i's name. The fierce passion which had ])ossessed him was suddenly turned to hatred and scorn. From the iiappiest of human beings, as he had deemed himself, he had become the most miserable ; such a fall from the highest bliss to thedeei)est woe, none before him. he believed, liad ever known. The old nurse had spokeii truly, there could be nothing in store for him at Kasana's hands but misery and despair. Once he had started to fly. but then the bewitching sound of her silvery laugh fell on his ear, and a mysterious power held him rooted to the spot to listen a little longer. At first the rush of blood tingled so fiercely in his ears that he was quite incapable of following the dialogue within. By degrees, however, he had gathered the pur- port of whole sentences, and now he lost not a word that was spoken. It was indeed of the greatest interest, though it enabled him to look into an abyss which seemed to yawn at his feet. Kasana by no means yielded to her audacious wooer on every point, but this only drew him on to insist passion- ately on her entire surrender, body and soul ; and what he offered in return was indeed the highest reward — a ]>lacc as queen at his side on the throne of Egypt, for which he was plottfng. That much he distinctly uttered \ but all yos//rA. 167 uncle ,- ind on e hon- ed bis vc that :)ve her veil; it roni the ing her- hcr ! was his ying the ■loth ho his eyes cctl, the HIS spell, e loathed faithless ■hich had nd scorn, i deemed 11 ch a fall pfore him. lcI spoken Kasana's rtedtofly, igh fell on cd to the wooer on :a passion- and what M— a place [r which he M ; but all else was hard to follow ; for the vehement lover was in haste, and frequently interrupted his incoherent sentences to assure Kasana of his unalterable devolion, or to mollify her wlien the audacity of his pretensions roused her fears or her disgust. Presently he sjjoke of the letter which Ephraiin had brouglit, and after lie had read it aloud and explained it to jier, the boy ])erccived, with slight sluidder, that he himself had now l)ecome an accomplice in the most detestable of criuK-s. l''or a moment in- felt prompted to j)etray the Iraitois, and deliver them into the hands of tlic sovereign whose overthiow they were plotting;. I'ut he cast this idea from liim, and only indulged in the comfort- ing reflection — the first that had come to him during this dn.'adful experience — that he held Kasana and her ])rince in his clutch like beetles on a thread. This raised his spirits and lestored his lost confidence and courage. The baser the schemes he now overheard, the greater and more surely grew his recovered sv use of the vahu' of truth and right. Me remembered lik-wiiie an admonition of his uncle's: "dive no man, great or small, cause to regard you with anything hut respect, and then you may hold your head as high as the proudest hero in his purple tunic and gilt l)reast])late." As he lay tremhling with fever on his bed in Kasana's house he had repeated the words many times, but the miseries of captivity had banished it from his mind. Not till he found himself in the chamberlain's tent, wlien the slave had held the mirror that he might see himself bathed and anointed, had it recurred as a passing thought; hut now it wholly possessed his sold. And, strangely enougli, the royal traitor within the tent wore, in fact, a purple tunic and gilt armor, and looked indeed a hero ; but he couid not hold his head high, for the deed he purposed could only succeed in twilight secrecy ; it was like the work of 'he loathsome mole which turns up the earth in darkness. The hateful three, falsehood, treachery and perjury, were Sip- tah's tools, and she whom he had chosen to be his accom- plice was the woman — at the bottom of his soul he was ashamed to own it — the woman for whose sake he had been ready to sa(M-ifice all he held sacred, worth}' and dear. These hideous thincjs, which he had been taught to flee from, were but the rungs of the ladder by whieli that wicked man hoped to mount to hip;!! estate. Ephraimsaw it j all the prince's plot lay before him as an open book. !JI j!^^ 1 68 jOSIfUA, The roll the lad had brought to the camp had contained three letters. One was frcnn the conspirators in Tanis j the others from Siptah's mother. She wrote tjiat she looked for his si)Ledy return, and informed him that Aarsii, the Syrian, the captain of the foreign troops, now in charge of the i^alace, and all in the women's hf)use, were prepared to hail liim king. When the high i)riest of Amon, who was at the same time the chief judge, high steward and keeper of the seal, .sliould proclaim him, he would be king, and could mount tl";e throne unop])Oscd, for die palace was open to him. If PJuiraoli should return, tlie body-guards were ready to take him j^risoner and clear him out of the way — as Siiitah, who did not love lialf measures, had secretly commanded, while Bale had voted for his being kept in mild captivity. The only thing to be feared was the premature reap- pearance of Scli, Menephtah's younger son, now at Thebes ; for now that his elder brother was dead, he had l)ecoine heir to the throne, and pigeons had arrived yester- da\' v.'ith letters announcing that he was on his way. Thus Siptah and the powerful priest who was to proclaim him must make the best si)eed they could. The necessary ])recautions had also been taken to pre- vent any j)ossiblo resistance on the part of the army; as soori as the Hel)rews were dcb troyed, the larger portion of the troops were to l)e withdrawn forthwith into the gar- risons they had left ; the body-guard were attached to Sip- tah, and the rest, who would escort the royal party back to the capital, could, if it came to the worst, easily be over- powered by Aarsu and his mercenaries. '' Nothing now remains for me to do," cried the prince, stretching himself with evident enjoyment, like a man who had successfully achieved a difficult undertaking, " but to make my way back to Tanis with Bale a few hours hence, to let myself be crowned and proclaimed in the temple of Amon, and fnially make my entry into the palace of tiie Pharaohs. The rest is all a matter of course. Seti, Avho is called the heir to the crown, is as weak a creature as his fathci', and will bend to the accomplished fact, to necessity and force. The captain of the body-guard will take care that Mene])htah never enters the ]jalace again." The prince's mother had v/ritten a second letter ad- dressed to Pharaoh himself, to justify Siptah and the high JOSHUA. 169 who "but hours n the Dalacc Seti, cature ict, to d will cam. ad- e high priest in returning to the capital in all haste, without exposing themselves to tl>e imi)Utation of cowardice in leaving the army iimnudialoly before a battle. Although she had never in her lite been m better healtli, she declared, •with hy[)ocriiical jiravers and i;unent.ations, that her hours u'ere number',".!, and irnMlriv, d the kimc t>) r^densi- her son and Bnie forii,wi;li from their duties, that slic might be allowed to bless her only cliild before she died. Si.ie had many sins on her conscience, and none but lite h.igh priest liad it in hjs power to intercede for her for the mercy of the gods. Without iiis mediation she must dejiart in despair. This letter, loo, the vile traitor had read, and had pro- nounced it a inaster-i*iece of woman's c.imning, rubbing his hands with glee as he si^oke. Treason, murder, dissimulation, base deceit, a mockery of all the most sacred feelings, everything foul and mean, were to be Sii)tali's aids to mounting the throne, and though Kasana had wiiing her hands and shed some tears when he told h.er that Tharaoh was to be })Ut out of the way, she grew calrner as the })rince represented to her that her own father approved of what he had decided on to save K'gypt from the hand of the king who mms bring- ing the land to ruin. The letter from the i)rince's mother to Pharaoh — the mother who was spurring on her own son to ruthless crime — was the last thin-r Ephraim staj'ed to hear; for the young Hebrew, accustomed tci regard the bond between parents and children as reverend and jnire beyond all others, was moved by it to such a sudden frenzy that he raised his fist, and as he sprang away he muttered a word of scorn and abuse. Thus he did not hear how Ka;;ana made tlie prince pled^:ehis wc^rd that, if he rose to power, he would grant her her first request. It should cost him neither money nor lands, and merel\' afford her the j^rivilege of showing mercy at the dictate of her heart, for events were impep.ding which must provoke tlie wrath of the gods, and she onl\' imi-lored io be allowed to mitigate it. Ephraim could not l)ear to see or to hear any more of this revolting scene. Xovv', for the first lime, he began to understand what danger he had run of allowing himself to be drawn into this slowg;\. and becoming a lost and repro- bate wretch ; but sure!}', he thouglit. Iv could never have been so base, so abominable as th.ese tv.\ W <i could n Once more he 170 JOSHUA, remembcrL'd his uncle's words, and he threw hnck liis haughty head, and his dcop chest swelled as tltougli he would assure himself of Iiis own unbroken strength; and he said to himself, as he drew a deep lireath, that ho was fit for better things than being wasted on a bad woman, even if, like Kasana, she were the fairest and most bewitch- ing creature under luaven. Away, nway I f;ir from the snare which might have led Inm to murder and every kind of evil! Fully determined to return to his own people, he m.idc his way to the entrance to the" camp ; hut he had gone only a few steps when he sto[)ped, and a glance at the sky showed him it was not more than two hours j)ast midnight. All was still. Only from the pen where the king's horses were eni losed he heard now and tlieu the rattle ;'f harness or the blow of a hoof, [f iie attempted at this houi to make his escape he must certiiinly be detec ted and detained ; prudence eiijoined him to curb 1 is impatience for a little while, and as he looked about him his eye fell on the chamberlain's tent, from which the old slnve came out to look for his master, who was still aw;iiting Siptah's return in the i)rin 's quarter. This old man had been kind before t'j Ephiaim, and he now with friendly urgency bid him enter the tent and rest, for youth, said he, requires sleep. I'lphraim accepted the well-meant invitation, for he now began to feel how badly his fni ached . hardly had he stretclied himself on the mat — the old slave having spread his own for him — when he felt as if his limbs were dropping off; however, he thought he should here have time and peace for reflection. He began by thinking of the future and his uncle's in- junctions. That he must forthwith rejoin his pcojile was quite clear, and if they escaped alive from Pharaoh's host, let the rest do what they would, his first duty would be collect his herdsmen, his servants and his younger friends, and hasten at their head to the mines to scrike off Joshua's chains, and conduct him home to his old father and his people who needed him so sorely. He fancied he could see himself with his sling at his girdle and a battle-axe in his hand marching on in front of the rest, when sleep over- powered him, and wrapi)ed the weary youth in oblivion so c'.eep and sweet that not even a dream approached his pillow, and thp old slave had to shake him in order to rouse him at day-break. yo.s//(\L '71 The camp was already astir : tents were being taken down, asses and ox-caits loaded, liorsi-s comhcfl ..nd shod, chariots cleaned, weapons and vessels polished, and the first meal of the day distributed and ealen. Meanwhile trnmi)et-c;dls rang out on one hand, words of romaiand on ihc other, and from the eastern side of tlic camp rose the chant of priests devoutly greeting the new-born god of (I;iy. Active -rvants now brought out a giil chariot in front of the s[)lendid innplc tent next t( Kasana's, and another not less splenchd followed. Prince Sij)tah and the high priest had received jiermission from Pharaoli fo return to Tanis, at the desire of a d} ing woman. Shortly after Kphraim took leave of the friendly slave, charging him to return the cl'^ak to Knsana's nurse, and to tell her that the messenger had folhiwed her advice and his un( ic's. 'Then he set forth on his journey. He got out of the i)recincts of the I'igyptian tenls with- o;!l let or hindrance, and when he found liimself oit in the desert he uttered the cry by which he was wont to collect his s'' 'j)herds in the ]MSlures. The call rang out .icross the wide plain, startling a sjjarrowdiawk which was sj)ying the di Uance from the top of a roi k, and as llie bird soared up the lad felt as though, if lie opeii'.'d out his arms, wings must sj^rout strong enough to bear him through the air. Never had he felt so strong and agile, so light and free ; and if tlie ])riest could at this moment have asked whethc- he would become a captain over thousands in Pliaraoh's army, he would certainly have answered, as he had done by Nun's ruined dwelling, that he asked no better lot than that of a shepherd, free to govern his herds and servants. He was an orphan, but yet he had his peopK' to whom he belonged, and where they were was his home. Like a traveler who. after long journeying, finds himself near h. .me, he now hastened his steps. He had arrived ;it Tanis in the night of the new moon, and the full disk which he now saw paling in the diwn was the same as he had then gazed on ; l)ut he fJt as though years hcA elapsed between his leave-taking of ^Tiriam and this d;i\'. f(»r indeed a wliole lifetime of new (^xp'-rienco had been e;-ov.-ded into these few days. He ha 1 come U ;h as a boy ; he was returning a man to his own folk, and, thanks to the events of this one dreadful night, he was the i>'t 172 JOSHUA. same as he had ever been, and could look boldly in the face of each one whom he loved and looked \\\- lo with rever- ence. Nay, more. I lo would show the man whom he held high above all others that he, i^phruim, might carry his head erect. He would rcjjay Joshua for what he had done for him, by btiiig content to remain in bonds and fetters in ordrr lliat his nephew might flee away as free as a bird. He had walked above an hour when he came to a ruined watch tower. He climbed up it, and from thence he descried at no great distance, on the hither side of the hill of IJaal-Zephon which he had long seen towering above the horizon, the gleaming waters of the northern arm of the Red Sea. The storm was lulled, still he could see from the swaying of the emerald surface that the sea was not yet calm, and a few black piles of cloud on the sky, which just now had been so clear, seemed to threaten a gathering storm again. He looked about him on all sides, wondering what the leaders of the people could be thinking of it ; indeed, as Si]jtah had told Kasana, they purposed to encamp between Pihahiioth, of which he now saw the tents and luits close before him on the shore of the canal of Seti, and the hill of Baal-Zephon. Had Siptah s})oken falsely ? No, indeed ! The base traitor had this once departed from his habits. Between the village and the lake, where the wind was whirling thin pillars of smoke, his sharp eyes descried a multitude of white objects looking like a distant flock of sheep, and among and around them a strange stir and bustle on the sand. This was the camp of the Israelites. How small the space appeared which parted him from them. But the nearer they seemed the greater was his anxiety, as he reflected that this vast multitude, with its women and children, its herds and tents, could never escape the mighty host which in a few hours must inevi- tably fall upon ihcm. His heart swcllnl within him as he looked further afield ; for ncith.cr to the east, where stretched a broad pool of water, nor to the south, where the waves of the Red Sea were surging, nor to the north, whence Pharaoli's army was marching down on tliem, was there any way to fly. To t!ie w^ ii lay the desert of Etham, and if the wanderers turned thitherward they would soon be. on Egyptian soil, and the exodus would yo.s//r,i. m have been in vain. There was nolliing for it hut to give battle, and as hr thoui^ht of" it his blood ran cold, for he u'cli kinw the ill-ariacd. undiscipUncd forces of the Hebrews, half wild and r.fiaetory, half cowardly and con- temptible, and lie had seen the march past of the niim- berb'ss anil well-e'iiiip[)ed I'-gypliaii army, with its strong force of foolsoMiers and splendid war-chariots. >Ic now dioiight, as his uncle had thought, that the Hebrews were doomed to certain destruction, unless the (iod of their fathers slundd luive them. .Miriam had indeed many a time, and again just before his departure, ])iaised t!i;i.l .Vlmiglity T.oi'd and His glory with Hashing eyes and ins[)ired words ; that (lod who had chosen his ])eople above all other people. The words of the prophetess had filled his childish soul with vague terrors of this (iod's immeasurable ;;reatness and awful wrath. He had found it easier to ui)lift his spirit to the .Sun-god when his teacher, a kind and genial Egyptian priest, had led him into the lenij)le at Pithom. ,\s he grew older he had entirely ceased to feel the need of turning to aiiy god in prayer ; for he craved nothing, anrl while other bovs were still obe(h"ent i() their parents' will, the shepherds, who knew full well that he was the owner of the flocks they tended, had called him their lord, and, at first in jest but then in earnest, had done him service as their master ; thus his independence had been early fostered, and he had gro\/n to be but a wrong- headed lad. Healthy and strong, looked up to by men older than himself, he was wholly self-sufficient, and felt that others depended on him ; and as there was nothing he liked so little as asking anything of any one, great or small, it misliked hiiM to pray even to a God who was so far and so high above him. But at this moment, when the fearful fiite imjjending over his people weighed so heavily on his heart, a sense came npon him that only this great and mighty God could deliver them out of their fearful and pressing peril ; that none could withstand this vast host but only He in whose power it lay to break the heavens and the earth in pieces. Ard what was he that the Most High, whom Miriam and Joshua had described as of such majesty, should cnre for him ? But his people were many thousands, and God had not scorned to make them His own. and to promise them great things. They were standing on the verge of J' ■ "if. '' .yr 174 JOSHUA. destruction, and he, fresh from the evening's camp, was perchance the only soul who understood how great was Iheir ])cril. A conviction suddenly came over him that it was he, therefore, above all others, whose task it must be to warn the God of his fathers of the great danger which threatened His peoi)le, and to beseech Him to save them ; He, caring for the whole heaven and earih, the sun and the stars, had pcrh.aps forgotten them. The lad was still standing on ihe top of the ruined tower, and from thence he ui>iilted his arms and face to heaven. To the north he saw the dark clouds, which he had observed rising over the blue sky, suddenly jsart and roll asunder on ei'hcr hand. The wind which had died away after sunrise now gained foicc and swiftness^ and soon rose to a storm again. It swept across the isthmus in gusts which succeeded each other with increasing rapidity, carrying before it dense pillars of yellow sand. He nust cry aloud, very loud, if He whom he entreated was to hear him in high heaven, and with all the strength of his young lungs he shouted against the storm : " Adonai, Adoi'.ai ! Thou whose name is Jehovah, Thou great God of my fathers, hearken unto me, Ephraim, who am but young and of no account, and whom, inasmuch .la I im but naught. Thou had not remembered. For my- self I ask not. But the people whom Thou hast called Thine are in great straits. They have left their safe dwellings and good jiastures by reason that Thou hast promised them a better and a fairer land, and that they trusted in Thee .ind in Thy word. And now the host of Pharaoh is drawing near, and it is so great that our people can ncA'er withstand it. Believe me it is so, Eloi, my Lord. For T have seen it, and have been in the midst of it, and as surely as I stand here I know that the Egyp- tians are too many for Thy people. Pharaoh's host will trample them under foot as the hoof of th.e ox tramples the grain on the threshing floor. And my nation, who are Thy people, are encami)ed in a place where the warriors of Pharaoh can cut tliem off from all sides, so that there is no way left them by which they may esca]ie ; not one, for T have seen it from this spot. H ar me, O Adonai I — But canst Thou hear niy cry, O Lord, in such a storm ? Yea, surely Thou canst, for Thou artahnigiity, and if Thou hear mi' yosinw. 175 p, was at was ras he, o warn lalencd caring ,rs, had \ on ihc ted his he had and roll .■d away id soon Inmis in •ai'idiiy, ntrcated strength [eliovah, ^phraim, nasmuch For my- st called icir safe 1011 hast hat they host of r people -Lloi, my e midst e Egyp- ost will pies the are Thy rriors of re is no -le, for T ii 1— Bui ? Yea, liou hear me and understand. Thou mayest, if 'I'hou will, behold with Thine own eyes that I speak the truth. Then remember, O Lord, and fulfdl the promise Thou hast made to Thy peoi)le by the mouth of Thy servant Moses. " r have seen treason among the Egyptians, and murder, and base cunning, and their doings have filled me, who am but a simple lad. with rage and horror. And how ;>honklst Thou, fiom vv'hom all good things come, and whom Miriam names as Truth itself, deal with us ev^n as those accursed ones do. and break Thy word and promise to Th}' ])eoi)le who trust in 'J'hee? I kiiow. () Eord Most High. th;it this is far froin Thee, and perhaps it is sin onh' to think oS. it. Hear me, Adonai ! Ik lu^ld and look to the north upon the tents of Egypt, whirli by this hour are leaving their camp and moving on ; look to the south upon the peril of Thy people, and how that they have no way of escape, and save and deliver them by liie help of Thy might and great wis- dom ; for Thou hast promised them a new land, and if they are utterly cut off how may they reach it ? " Thus he ended this guileless, untutored prayer, but it flowed from the depth of his heart. Then he sprang away from the heaj) of ruins with wide leaps, across the desert at his feet, and ran on towards the south as swiftly as though he were agnin fleeing from captivity. He felt the rushing blast frou? the north-east driving him on, and thought how it would hasten the ad- vance of Pharaoh's foot-soldiers. The leaders of his people did not know perhaps how vast was the host which threat- ened them, and under-estimated the danger of their poiu'tion. But he saw it, and could give them the fullest information. But he must hasten, flv, and he felt as though in this race before the storm his feet had really got wings. He had soon reached the village of Pihahiroth, and, as he fled through it without pausing for an instant, he perceived that man and beast had deserted the tents and dwellings. The inhabitants had no doubt found a place of refuge for themselves and their belongings from the coming army, or from the emigrant Hebrews. As he went on, the clouds grew darker and darker — and rarely indeed was the sky overcast here at mid-day — and the v/ilder blew the storm. His thick hair flew about his hot head, h.is breath came hard, still on he sped ; he felt as if his feet scarcely touched the ground at all. ,^l !;^ 176 JOSHUA. |tlH As lie got nearer to t'lie sea the blast howled and shrieked, the waves, lashed to fury, oeat in thunder on tlie rocks at the foot of the hill of Baal-Zei)hon. Now, within a short hour after lea\ing the ruins, he had reached ihe first tents of the encampment, and the familiar cry of " Unclean I" as well as the niouniinL^^ garb of the i)"oi)le, wliose disfjguied faces looked forth from the wreck of the tents l)caieii (K.wn b\- the wind, told him that he had come upc)n the lej'crs' quarters, i)laced by Moses outside the canip. Still, h( v. as in such haste that he did not make a circuit, 1 ul lan strd ght on at his utmost speed. Nor did he })aus till a tall j aim tree, uprooted by the l)last, came to the ground so close to him that its tuft of leaves swept him as it fell. At last he was among the tents rnd jit'nfolds of his own tribe, and many of these had likewise been overturixd. He inquired of the first man he recognized for Ntm. tlie father of Josliua and of his deceased mother. He had gone to the seashore with Moses and the elders vi the people, and I'qihraim followed him thither, the moist salt air refreshing liim and cooling his brow, ^'et he might not immediately speak with him, so he collected his tliotights and reserved his breath, while he watched the elders who were in discussion with a party of gaily-clad Fhoeiiician boatmen. He, being so much younger, was forbidden to disturb the venerable leaders of the people in the council \\ hich evidently had reference to the sea, for the Hebrews were pointing to the head of the bay, and the Phoenicians waved their hands now towards the mountain and now to the sea, or the sky, or the north, whence came the still-increasing storm. A jutting wall sheltered the party of elders from the hurricane, and yet they had great difficulty in kee])ing llieir feet with the help of their staves and the stone-work be- hind them. At last the discussion came to an end ; t^hc lad saM- the gigantically t.-Jl figure of Moses slowly and majestically go down to the edge of the sea with some otlier ler.ders cf the Hebrews, while Nun, supported by one of his herdsmen, toiled back against the wind to the camp with what speed he might. He wore a mourning robe, and, wh^ieas the rthers looked glad and hopeful as they parted, i^': 1 md- jome face, wrth its crown and beard of white hnir, wore a JOSHUA 177 I licked, ocks at a short St ttnts tUan :" ^figured ,■11 clvvvn ■ k'i'crs' , ht v.as StlM ghl all 1 aim 1 close to ■ his o\vii ivr.ed. Nun. tl-.e He had -s (1" the noist salt [iiij-ht not thoughts ders who hoeiiician o disturb cil which cws were ns waved ) the sea, -icrcasing I from the ^)iiig iV'eir hwork be- ll saw the [tically go ^rs ct" the lerdsmen, lat speed .icas the ip"-, ",-'nd- Ir. wove a look of crushing and Ivjari-brcaking grief. When Kijhraim spoke his name he raised his beni head, and, seeing the lad before him, tottered Ixickwards with sur])rise and misgiving, clinging tightly to the stalwart arm which upheld him. News had been sent to him of his son's and his grandson's terrible fate I'lom the freed slaves he had left behind him in Tanis. The old man had rent his garnu'iits. had llirown ashes on his head and i»ut on mourning raiment, ami broken his heart for his beloved and noble son and his ])rumising on Mil urandson. 'o to Now Ephraim was bctorc him in the flesh ; and when he had laid his hand on the lad's shoulder, and kissed him again and again, lie inquired whether his soi-j. loo, was still in the land of the living and remembered liirn and his people. As soon as the youth had assured him that he did, Nun laid his arm across his shoulders that he, his own ilesh and blood and no stranger, might shield him from the violence of the storm. He had a solemn and imperative duty to fiilfdl, from which no man mi"ht hinder him, Init when the ea<rer votith shouted in his ear above the roar of the hurricane, as they went back to the camp, that he meant to gather together his shepherds and the young men of his tribe to rescue Hosea, who was now called Joshua, the patriarch's vehe- ment vigor was stirred, and clasjjing his grandson to his heart he exclaimed that, old as he was, yet was he not too old to wield an axe and go forth with the young ones to deliver his son. And his eyes flashed through tears, while, with the arm that was free, he appealed to Heaven, crying : " The God of my fathers in whom I have learned to trust watches over the faithful I Do you see the sand over there at the head of the bay, the seaweed and shells ? Only an hour ago that was covered by water, foaming waves were dan- cing over the spot. That, boy, is the way deliverance lies j if this wind holds, the tide will ebb further still, so the Phce nician seamen assure us. Their god of the north wind, they say, is favorable to us, and their youths have lighted a fire to the god up there on the heights (;f ]]aal Zephon. But we know that it is another God who hath opened a way for us into the desert. We were in sore straits, my son I" " Yes, grandfather," cried the boy. " You were as a lion in a pitfall, and the Egyptian tent is mighty and uncon- querable ; every man of that host have I seen march past, 12 lil'^ ''It' trH 7('.v//r /. !!■ iVoiU ihi" I'll U even l(» \\\v l,i;l. I 11 \v .IS (;i;.l ;i:i my Icct mi|;Iil luMi inc lo Icll \iiii .ill how niaiiv lic.ivy hoops, arcluMs. Iioisc. ;iiul cli.iriid.s.'' "We know It, \V( Uiow It," intciinptcd llic old in;iii .111(1 lie |)oii)l('(l to ;i l( III ( oii)|i|cit ly Mown 111. wliii li some '.(';\in!', iiu'm were I'lidcii voiin^ lo |ifo|Mi|). .111(1 ( I' I ,,• Id ii ,.ii ,1 V(M s' did ! Id) lew in .i III h'l , Milt V know It, W( here we ;iic ' "' l'"li:.Ii;iin,i, llu' l.itlit'i ol Nun, wi.i|)|>( d in in;in\' robe N nn (M;;('i I\- '.| lokc .1 lew Wold', lo hiiii. .iikI led I'',| 'lii;i tin loiW .11(1. l.ltlu'I ''. IK \n un, wliil(' die I. id li II ( 'D In . r i< .il r i^iix > lie ( ,1 res .('I l.iiid cillhl .K ri I \ onlliliil spirit lo I he herd .ni'ii ,in N I \ ;inl! nil s|iok(' Willi ih 1,(1 tlic ti-nt l.ill. nuMi ! riicsloiiii li.is only done ^oiii ta; |(M \ Oil w Lip tlic ( ,in\M , .loolli the po loiid lllC <",\rls .iiul IxMsts. I Listen now, \-oii ( i.ul. .Sli.miniii.i, |acol» ludi> I u' olhci' he lioiii ol our dcp.ii I iiir, is ;il Ii.iik 1'mU li in, in make li.islc to Ii.inu'ss llu- Ix.isls. to s.iddic and K)ad tlu' .isscs with ,il |U-(MI ,( ii(i wav tor lis. ,OI ( li.ilh opened n .111(1 l)\' the <(iin- luaiu 1' Is ol M k in (he n.inio ol the ost's. i\\i\\ nnist in. ike ie.id\ lot departin|^. \ er\ m.in l<.e( 'p to t )c oil! Older W e iiiai( h Inst at Ihe hoatl ol tin" host ; tluMi come tlu- ollur liihes, and .iltiM them \\\c sliant;rrs ; last of .ill the lepi-is aiul imcleaii. l\ejoiei\ ,dl yc people, lor our (iod is woiking ii |;n'al woikUm. .md makini; the sea (liv kind lor iis, His chosen l)eople. (."live thanks to llim while you lahoi, and entreat Him from the bottom of youf luaits thai He wilU-vcrpio- teet us. He who would not juiish .it the edge of the swoiil, or be crushed under the wheels of riiaiaoh's ehaiiots, let him j)ut forth his strength and forget to rest. We shall find rest as soon as wc liave escajied from this ])eril. I'.ive me the tent (doth ; I will roll it up myself. And do your part, boy. See the ehildri'n of Alanasseh yonder, they are packing and loading I Well done, J*-phraim, you know how to use your hands 1 JUit there is yet much to be done. And my old head forgets. So much has como upon me at once. Here, Raplui, you I -ivc swift legs ; I look it upon me to give warning in the camp of the strangers. Hasten to them, and bid them s])eid their departing, that they be not too far behind the i)cople of Isr.iel. Time is precious ! O Lord, our Clod, t^heller Thy jieople with Thy protecting hand, and diive the waters further and further back with tlv^ storm w' ich is Thy y OS/ft -A. 179 my f»'«'i ll()(»|>S. 1(1 iii;in iil>lr»» ly diiiij', *<> a luici, l.rs. |'",|'l\i.iMn ,(.k« witli I,, PC yoiii 1.1. l;Hol> , , ;\l liinul. ,;ul(llr Jiinl llir ("in- (lipaitinj;. list al tlu- , and aftoi d uiuUan. ^ a ^;n'.i^ is rhoscn nd ciUuiit 1 ever pjo- ^i- of die IMiaraoh's vet ti) if^t. d Uo\w this lip myscli. Maiuissoh , l4)hraim, lerc is yci So mucli you l-ivc n the camp hem speed the i)ei»pW '.od, shellcr the waters ich is Thy mighty lnc.ith I I'rav, ck h one of yon, in your hf.'arl, while yon work. Tlic Alniighly and All knowing (iod, who sees into yoni IhmiIs, shall \v.\\. '\'\\,\\ \; to.' hr.ivy a hiutlicii I'lr yi'U, Isphiaim ; yon w II Imrl yoiirscll. No! The hoy isa stroiij; hoy' |)((,is iic doc., and ye of Stic- colh, rejoice in Hie slienj;di of ynir yonn;; ina.let ' " The lasl Words weie adchcs' ''d n, I'.phta ini's sliepherds, scrvin); men and women, mo. I of whom had (;;ie( ted him in \\\r mid ;l of dieii toil, had kissed hi. hand or hi. arm, ,ind lieen j'.l.id al In. Im aii' < (tininj^. They were |M(|;ing .ind l(iadm)',, IoIiImij; and hliin|', ,ind );etlin;_'; tli'' Ixs-ists logedier whi( li li.id Ixcn seaorl hy \\\r storm with many blows and inM< h (»nl( ly. The men of'SiKcolh were zealous to inntaJc thfu young maslei, iho.e lioin lam. to s-iV' theii niastf.'r's gr.ainl .on ; the other hiid owners ,\\u\ huiihl'r folk of the tiiheof l"",I)liraim. who se i< III , h.id ( liist<'rr(l round ih.i.lof Nun, dieir elder, W( re ,ill no Ic ,s eaiMi ; and yet il w;is some hours 1)( I'oie .ill die t( Ills, die house yy;\v .iiid the vietn;ils for man ,iiid heast had found a, |il,i( e in the carts or on the |)(m:,Is of huKJeii, .iiid the old, I he sick, .and the f(,'(d)l(,' were laid in lillers ,ind ( hariols one<' more. The Wild wind now .and then brought the sound of Moses' dic|» voiic, (U' Aaion's lighter tones, to the sjjot whi-n- the l',|ihr,iimites were busy. NciUu-T th(,'y nor the sons of jud.ih needed tins to spur ihcm ; ff)r Ilur and N.de.hon ( oinmanded these List, .ind by tlie side of Flur stood Miriam, Jiis newdy-wedded wife. Willi the other tribes ;ind the strangers il w.is otherwise ; and the stifT- nccked and cowardly < oiuhiel of their leaders had resulted in much misery and confusion. CHAPTER XXII. It had been found to l)e impossible to break Itnrough the frontier liiu^s of J''Ahani .and follow the nearest road to Palestine in a north-easterly direction ; and the second jilan pr(j|>osed by Moses, that t'ney sliould march round Migdol of the South, had likewise failed, for sjjies had rcjiortcd that the garrison there had been strongly rein- forced. Hereupon the multitude had as.>cinbled round the 6^ i8o yosiiUA. man of Clod, and IkuI declared MkU sooner would they return home willi all their familic md ai)peal lo Phaiaoh's mercy, than suffer themselves, then wives and their ehild- rcn to be butchered. l^or many days it had been necessary to keep them ba< k, but when fresh messengers brought word that Pharaoh was running down on them with ;i mighty host, the lime seemed to be at hand when the Hebrews, who were now in tlie greatest i)er)l, must be urged to force their way onward. Moses had exerted the full weight of his commanding indi- viduality, antl Aaron all the jjowers of his [)crsuasive elo([uence, while old Nun and Hur had striven to infuse some of their own fiery spirit into the rest. JUit the terri- fying tidings had broken the last remnant of courage and faith in most of the people, and they had already deteimined to send word to Pharaoh of their rejjcntance ; but the mes- senger whom they had despatched turned back, declaring that the approaching army had orders not to spare a single Hebrew, but to tt^acli even those who shoidd pray for mercy at the point of the sword how Pharaoh would punish those who, by their magic arts, had brought death and misery on so many Egyptians. 'J'hus had they learned too late that their return would lead them to destruction no less surely than a bold advance. But when, on this, the fighting men led by Plur and Nun had proceeded almost as far as IMigdoI of the South, they had turned and fled at the loud blast of the Egy])tian trumpets, and by the time they returned to the cam]), weary, dispirited and wroth, fresh and exaggerated reports of the might of Pha- raoh's host had been brought to tlie Hebrews, and mortal fear and despair had fallen on even the bravest. I^xhorta- tion was cast to the winds ; threats were laughed to scorn ; and the rebellious multitude had forced iheir leaders onward till they had reached the shores of the Red Sea, and its deep green waters compelled them to give up all further flight to the southward. So the people had encamped be- tween Pihahiroth and Baal-Zephon, and here, once more, their chief had called upon them in the name of the God of their fathe: :. In the face of certain destruction, from which no human power could save them, they had been brought to lift their eyes to Heaven again ; and in the soul of Moses pity and sympathy had revived more strongly for the hapless and much-tried people who had 'josncA. i8i \d ihcy laiaoh's ir chiUl- m ba< k, raoh was ; seemed w ill llie onward. ling indi- cisuasive to infuse the icrri- iirage and jiormined I the mcs- dcclaring re a single I pray lor toll would ight death ley learned lestruction n, on this, proceeded turned and is, and by jirited and ^ht of Pha- and mortal Kxhorla- d to seorn ; jeir leaders d Sea, and all further :ampcd be- |once more, of the God destruction, , they had and in the ived more e who had come forth ai his bidding. Inning the past night he had gone up into tlic mountain of IJaal-Zcphon, and there, amid the roaring of the storm and hissing flare of the lightning, he had sought and foimd coniniunion wiili the Lord. And he liad not wearied laying befon; Him the evil llighl of his ])coi)le, and l)cseeching Iliin to (U;liver them. In that same hour had Miriam, the wife of 1 lur, gone down to the sea-shore to entreat the Lord likewise, under a solitary jxihn tree, for still she felt herself Mis chosen liandtnaid. She besought Him for the women and children, whose trust in Him had brought iheni to this jjass. And she would fain have ])rayed for the fr'jnd of her youth who was now i)ining in fearful captivity ; but as she fell on her knees she could only say in a timid and biokni voice : " Forget not Thou Hoscn, wIkjui I ;il '\\\\ word named Joshua, albeit he h;ilh been less obedient to Thy call than Moses, my brother, or 1 lur, ni}' husband 1 Forget not, either, young Ft^hraim, the grandson of Thy faithful servant Nun." Then she went ba<:k to her luisband's tent, a chiefs lent, while many a humbler man and many a poor terrified woman of the peoi)le, outside their wretched shelter or lying on a thin mat wet with tears, uplifted a\\ anxious heart to the God of their fathers, and commended to His care those whom they loved best. Thus, in this night of sorest need, the camp was a temi)le in which high and low, chief and mother, master and slave, nay, even the afflicted leper, sought and found the Lord. At last the morning had dawned when F.phraim had spoken his child. ike prayer, shouting it down the storm, and the sea was l3eginn;ng to retire. Then, when they beheld with tlieir own eyes the miracle which the Most High had wrough*- for His chosen people, the most despairing and fearful became so many glad and hopeful believers. Not among the sons of Isphraiui only, among all the tribes, nay, and the strangers and unclean, their newly-awakened and jo^fid confidence moved each one to prepare with all liis strength for further journeying ; and for the first time the multitude assembled without strife or jealousy, wiihout figliting, curses, and tears. After sunset Moses, staff in hand, and Aaron, singing and praying, led the way to the head of the gulf. The storm, which w^as raging as wildly as ever, had swept back ■V: {., ;< 1^! I? % l82 'JOSHUA, the waters, and bore down the flames and smoke of the torches which were carried at the head of each tribe, from north-east to south-west. Next to the two great leaders, on whom every eye was fixed with eager anticipation, Nun marched with the children of I-'-phraim. The sea-l)oltoni on which they trod was firm damp sand on whicli even tlie cattle could safely- cross as on a smooth highway, gently sloping towards the sea. I'4)hraim, who Avas regarded by his elders as the future head of his tribe, had, by his grandfather's desire, uiidertaken to be careful that the train of men and beasts should not come to a standstill, and to this end he had been entrusted with a chief's staff. The fishermen who dwelt in the huts which clustered at the foot of Baal- Ze])hon agreed with the Plueu' ian seamen in saying that as soon as the moon had reached the zenith the waters would rise again to their old place, so no delay could be allowed. The lad gloried in the storm, and as his hair blew about his face, and he fought against the wind while he hurried to and fro in fulfillment of his task, this felt to him as a foretaste of the great enterprise he had in his mind. Thus matters sped through the darkness which quickly followed on the twilight. The strong smell of the fish left on dry land was pleasanter to the youth, who now felt him- self a man indeed, than the sweet fragrance of nard in Kasana's tent. Once the thought of her flashed through his mind ; but indeed, during these times, he had had no time to think of her. His hands were quite full; ]\ere the seaweed must be cleared aside which a wave had left in the way; there the ram of a flock which hesitated to set foot on the moist ground must be seized by the horns and dragged forward, or the oxen and beasts of burthen driven through a pool tliey were shy of. Many times he had to lend a shoulder to lifi a heavily laden cart of which the wheels had sunk in the soft sand, and when, just as they were starting on this strange and momentous journey, even on the Egyptian shore, a dispute arose between two herds- men as to which should have the lead, he promptly settled by lot which was to go forward and which to follow. Two little girls were crying and refusing to cross a pool while their mother's arms were occupied with her infant ; he picked them up with swift decision and cauried them JOSHUA. '83 e of the )c, from eye was ^'ith the Key trod Id safely ,'ards the klcrs as idfalher's men and is end he fishermen t of Baal- lying that he waters could be s his hair v'ind while his felt to had in his ch qviickly he fish left w felt hiiiv of nard in A through had had no ; l\ere the Ihad left in ted to set horns and hen driven he had to which the lust as they |irncy, even tvv'o herds- ptly settled to follow. OSS a pool [her infant ; tried them across the shallow lakelet ; and wlicn a wheel came ofTone of the wagons, he immediately had it dragged out of the way, and by the light (jf the torches he made some of the serfs who were least heavily loaded carrv eacli a sack or a bale, nay, and even the ])icces of the brok-'U vehicle. He had comforting words for weeping womin ;iiul children, and if the Hare of a torch showed him llie face of some youth of his own age, whose aid he lioped to secure for liberating Joshua, he hinted to him in a few spirited words that he had a bold deed in prosj)ecl which he proposed to achieve wiih the help of liis friend. The incense bearers, who had hitherto led the way. on this occasion closed the march, for the wind blowing IVom the north-east would have driven the smoke in the hice of the pcoj^lc. They stood on the Mgyi)tian shore, and soon all the multitude had ])assed them by, exce]4ing only the strangers, and the lepers, who came last of all. The foreigners were indeed a motley host, consisting of Asiatics of .Semitic 1)k)od, who were fleeing from tlie forced labor and cruel punishments which were inflicted on them by the law of Kgy])t ; of dealers, who had found buyijrs for their wares among the thousan-.ls of wanderers, and ev.'n of .Shasoo shepherds who had been hindered from crossing the frontier on their return home. Willi these lM)iiraim had niuch trouble, for they refused to leave the dry land until the ]cj)ers had been enjoir.cd to remain at a greater distance from them ; but even they were brought to sub- mission by Mphraim, with the helj) of the chief of the tribe of Ijenjamin, which marched last in front of them ; for he warned them of the })rophecy of the PlKJcnicians and fisher- men, that the moon as it sank would bring the sea back to its old bed. Finally, he persuaded the leader of the lepers, an intelligent Egyptian, who had been a priest, to maintain at least half the distance that was demanded. Meanwhile the tempest continued to rage with incrcasii.g fury ; the roar and long-drawn shrieks of the wind, minglir • with the thunder of the breakers and the duller moan of the surf, drowned the shouts of command, the wailing of the women, the bellowing and the bleating of the trem- bling beasts and the whining of the dogs. Ephraim's voice was audible only to those nearest to him ; many torchci were extinguished, and the rest kept alight with difficulty. At length, when for one short space he had been walking fi'. ■M*.; 1 84 yoSTIVA. m . li bcliincl the hist of the lepers, going slowly to recover his breath and get a little rest, he heard his nnmc called from the rear, antl, turning round, beheld an old i)laymatc who was retin-ning from spying the enemy, and wlio, seeing the leader's staff in the lad's hand, shouted in his ear with panting gas[)s that Pharaf)h's chariots were coming on in the van of llie I'^gyptian host. Me had left diem by Piha- hiroth, and if they Iiad not waited to let the other troops come up With them, they might at any moment overtake the fugitives. Thereupon he again pressed forward to reach tlie leaders of the multitude. IJut ICphraim stood still a moment in the middle of the way with his hand held to his brow, and great anxiety came down on his soul. He knew full well that the approaching army would overrim the women and children whom he had just seen in all their pathetic terror and helplessness, as a man treads down a file of ants ; and again, all his imi)ulses urged him to prayer, and from the depths of his oppressed heart the imj)loring cry went up into the night — " Eloi I l'>lci ! great Ood on high! Thou knowest, for T have told Thee, and 'J'hine all-seeing eye must behold, in spite of the backness of the night, how sorely Thy peopie are beset whom Thou hast promised to lead into a new land. Remember Thy word, O Jehovah ! Be graciou., unto us, (iod Almighty ! Our foe is upon us with irresist- ible might ! Stay his steps ! Save us ! Deliver the women and the children ! Save us, and be merciful unto us ! " As he prayed, he had fixed his eyes on high and had espied the ruddy blaze of a fire on Baal-Zephon. This had l)een lighted by the Phoinicians to propitiate the Baal of the north wind in favor of the kindred race of Hebrews, and against the hated Egyptian nation. This was friendly ; but he put his trust in another God, and as he glanced again at the vault of heaven, over which the black rack raced and gathered and divided again, and swept to and fto, he descried, between two parting clouds, the silver beam of the full moon already at its meridian. And fresh terrors came upon him, for he remembered the predictions of the weather-wise seamen. If the flood should at this moment return to its bed, his people were doomed \ for, to the north of the gulf, where deep pools lay amid rocks and slimy mud, there was no escape. If yosiir.i. i8s er his I from c who ng the ,r with ; on in r riha- troops /erUikc 'arc! to I stood id held >ul He 3vernin all Lhcir down a him to eart the ivest, for L'hold, in y people to a new graciou.. irresist- ivcr the :iful unto and had in. This the Baal ;ebrews, 'AJtliin an hour the waters sliould rise, the seed of Abra- ham would ccuse from the face * f the earth, as writing oil a wax tablet vanishes at the pressure of a warm hand. Hut was not this people, doomed to destruction, the same which tiic Lord had called to I j ilis own? And could He give thein into the hand of the enemy whi<h was His enemy also ? No, a thousand limes no ! And the moon, which was to cause the disaster, had but a short time sip.ce aided his ilii;ht and been his friend. He could onlv hoi)e and believe, and cling to his trust in c;od. And as yet nothing was lost, not a single soul. If it came to the worst, tlie whole nation might not be de- stroyed ; his own tribe, which led the way, least of all. V>y this time many must have reached the turtle, shore ; more, pcr^iaps, than he thought ; for the little bay was narrow, and even die lepers, the last of the multitude, had already gone some distance over tlie moist sand. He lingered behind every one to listen for the coming of die enemy's chariots. On the shore of the gulf he laid his car to the ground ; and he could trust the sharpness of his hearing, for in this attitude he had often detected the distant tramp of beasts that had gone astrav, or, when out hunting, had heard the approach of a herd of antelopes or gazelles. He, being the last, was in the greatest danger, but what matter for that ? How gladly would he have given his young life to save the rest ! Since he had carried a chief's staff he felt that he had taken upon himself the duty of watching over his people ; so he listened and listened, tiil at last he perceived a scarce audible thrill in the earth and then a faint rumbling. This was the foe ; this must be Pharaoh's chariots ; and how swiftly were the proud steeds rushing on ! He started to his feet as though a whip had stung him, and flew onward to overtake the rest. How oppressively sultry the air had become, in spite of the raging gale which had extinguished so many of the torches ! The clouds hid the moon, but the dancing fire on the highest peak of Baal-Zephon shone broader and brighter. The sparks which it cast up flew* scurrying to westward, for the wind was veering to the cast. No *! , i:i# i> IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) /. ^ <^ ^°^/% f/j ^ ^ 1.0 ^^ I I.I 2.5 •^ 1^ III 2.2 [r 1^ 12.0 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 < 6" — ► V] <^ /}. om /y y Photographic Sciences Corporation A ^r<> 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. MS80 (716) 872-4503 «y C/j "^ 186 JOSHUA. III! i ii i;! sooner did he perceive this than he hastened bark to the youths who carried ihe censers behind the procession, and commanded them, in breathless haste, to refill the copper vessels, and take care that the vapor rose thick ; for he said to himself, that the wind would blow it into the faces of the horses and make them refractory, or slop them. No means seemed to him too humble, every moment gained was precious, and as soon as he had seen the smoke from the censers was spreading in choking clouds over the track left by the advancing nniltitudc he ran on again, warning the elders, as he came up with them, that Pha- raoh's chariots were not far behind, and that the people must hasten their march. Forthwith the hosts on foot, the bearers, leaders and herdsmen, collected their strength to proceed faster ; and although the wind was every moment more decidedly against them, hindering their pro- gress, they battled with it valiantly, and the fear of their pursuers doubled their energies. The lad was like a sheep-dog watching and driving the flock, and the chiefs of the tribes looked kindly on him wherever he was to be seen ; and as he made his way among the marching host, fighting onwards against the blast, the east wind brought a strange cry to his ears as the reward of his efforts. The nep er he came to it the louder it rose, and the more sure he was that it was a shout of triumph and gladness, the first that had been raised by Hebrew voices for many a long day. It revived the youth like a cool draught after long thirst, and he could not refrain from shouting aloud, and hailing those behind with a cry of " Saved, saved ! " Several of the tribes had already reached the eastern shore of the gulf, and it was they who sent the shout of joy which, witn the beacon fires they lighted along the shore, gave the rear of the host fres^i courage, and renewed their flagging strength. By the light of the blaze he saw the majestic figure of Moses on a hillock by the shore, stretching out his staff towards the waters ; and this image was stamped on his nind, as on that of every soul present, great and small, more deeply than any other, and inflamed the confidence in his heart. This man was verily the friend of God, and so long as he should hold up his staff" the waves were spell-bound, and the Lord, by His servant, forbade them to return ! JOSHUA. 187 Ephraim need no more appeal to the Most High ; this was in the hands of His great and sublime servant. But his own lesser duty of urging on one and another to the goal he still must fulfill. Back he flew to the lepers and the incense-bearers, and to each division he shouted aloud : " Saved, saved ! Hasten forward ! The rod of Moses holds the waters back I Many have reached the shore ! Praise the Lord ! Forward, forward, and you too may join the song ! Fix your eyes on those two red fires ! They were kindled by those who are delivered ; between them stands the servant of the Lord uplifting his staff." Then he again laid his ear to the ground, kneeling on the wet sand, and he heard quite near the rattle of wheels and the henvy trr^mp of horses. But even while he listened the sound gradually ceased, and he heard nothing but the howling of the storm and the ominous beating of the wild waves, or a cry now and then borne down on the east wind. The chariots had reached the shore of the dry bed of the gulf, and paused some little while, hesitating before they started on so perilous a passage ; then suddenly the Egyptian war cry rang out, and agani he heard the rolling wheels. It came on, mor^ slowly than before, but yet faster than the Israelites could march. For the Egyptians, too, the wry lay open ; but, though his people hafi but a small start, he need no longer fear for them ; all was not lost ; those who had reached the shore could scatter themselves during the night among the mount-in solitudes, and ensconce themselves in spots where no chariot nor horse could pursue them. Moses knew the land in which he had long dwelt as a fugitive ; the only thing now was to warn him ot the approach of the foe. So he charged a comrade of the tribe of Benjamin with the message, and the distance was no longer very great, while he himself still staid behind to watch the coming of tlie host. Without stooping to listen, and in spite of the gale which blew the sound from him, he could already hear the clatter of the chariots and neighing of the horses. The lepers, Iiowever, who likewise heard the noise, bewailed and wept, fancying themselves already trodden under foot, or swallowed by the cold dark waters ; for the way was '-St shrinking, and the sea was greedy to recover ihe i88 yOSHUA. ground it had abandoned. Man and beast were forced to march in a narrow file, and while the hurrying troops packed closer and closer they also stretched lo.jger, and precious moments were lost. Those who walked on the right-hand side were wading through the encroaching waves, in haste and terror, for already behind them they could hear in the distance the Egyptian words of command. But the enemy was evidently delayed, and Ephraim easily understood what caused their diminished speed. The ground grew softer at every step, and the narrow wheels of the war chariots must sink deep in it, even to the axles. Under cover of the darkness he crept back as near as he dared to the pursuing host, and he could hear now an oath and now an angry order to use the lash more freely ; and at last one driver saying to his neighbor : '* What cursed folly ! If they had suffered us to set out before noon instead of waiting till the omens had been read and Amon solemnly installed in the place of Baie, it would have been an easy matter enough, and we should have trapped them like a covey of quails. The high priest has shown his valor on the field before this, and now he gives up the leadership because a dying woman had touched his heart ! " " Siptah's mother ! " another put in. " Still, you are right ; twenty princesses ought not to have turned ^im from his duty to us. If he had staid by us we should not have had to flay our jades alive, and at an hour, too, when any prudent captain leaves his men to rest by the camp- fires over their supper and their game of draughts. Go to the horse's heads, man ! we are stuck in the sand again ! " Thereupon a loud outcry arose behind the foremost chariot, and Ephraim could hear another voice exclaiming : ** Get on there, if the horses die for it ! " " If retreat were possible," said the chief captain of the war chariots, a relative of Pharaoh's, " even now I would turn about. But as it is we should all tumble over each other. So forward, cost what it may ! We are close on their heels. Halt ! Halt ! Curses on that pungent smoke ! Ah ! wait, only wait, you dogs ! As soon as the road opens out a little we will get round you, and may the gods shorten my life by a day for every soul I leave alive ! Another torch out ! I cannot see my hand before my face. A JOSHUA, 189 irced to troops rer, and on the oaching em they mmand. ilphraim I speed. narrow even to 5 near as : now an e freely ; ) set out iad been if Bale, it e should Igh priest i now he \ touched you are rned ^im lould not 00, when le camp- Go to again ! " bremost laiming : in of the I would 3vcr each close on t smoke ! }ad opens s shorten Another face. A beggar's stick would be more to the purpose than a com- mander's staff." " And a gallows' rope about our necks instead of a gold chain," cried another. " If only the moon would come out I It was because the horoscope promised that it would shine full from evening till dawn that I voted for the late march, turn::.g night into day. If only it were not so dark 1 " But the sentence remained unfinished, for a blast, rushing down from the south-eastern gori.es of Baal-Zcphon like a roaring beast of juvy, rAvept over the speakers, and a leaping wave wetted JCphraim Ihrougii and through. He shook back his hair and dried his eyes as lie recovered his breath ; but behind a loud cry of terror went up from the Egyptians, for the surge that had but drenched him had swept the foremost chariot into the sea. At this the lad began to be alarmed for his people, and he flew forward ; but aii he started a flash of lightning showed him the gulf, the mountain, and the shore. The thunder did not immediately follow, but the storm now came nearer ; the lightnings, instead of cutting zigzag across the sky, flared in broad sheets through the darkness, and before they died out the deafening crack of the thunder echoed among the bare crags of the mountain-cliffs, and rolled in deej), angry waves of sound to tlie shore and the head of the bay. Sea and land, man and beast, all was flooded with the dazzling glare each time the destroying clotids discharged their bolts ; the surging waves and the air above them gleamed in sulphurous yellow, through which the lightning blazed as through an olive-tinted glass wall. Now, too, Ephraim thought he discerned that the heaviest clouds were coming up from the south and not from the north ; and presently, by the lightning's gleam, he saw that behind him, here a refractory team were plunging into the waves, there one chariot was overturning another, and beyond these again several were locked together to the destruction of the drivers and men at arms, while they checked the progress of those which followed. Still, on the whole, the enemy was advancing, and the space dividing the fugitives from the pursuers grew no wider. However, the confusion which prevailed among the Egyptians was by this time so great that the cries of terror of the fighting men end the encouraging shouts of M IF m ii] I90 JOSHUA. the drivers waxed louder and louder, in the intervals between the maddening roar of the thunder. But, black as were the storm clouds to the south, fiercely as the wind raged, the darkened heavens shed no water, and, though the i^iigrims were wet, it was not with rain, but with the sparkling waves which darted higher and higher *i\^\y moment, wafrhing up further and further over the dry sand in the bay. The path was narrowing, the passing of the multUude was at an end. The blaze of the beacons still guided the frightened rear to the hoped-for goal, remind- ing them that there stood Moses with the staff lent him by God. Every ste]) brought ihcm noarer. Presently a shout of triumph proclaimed that the tribe of Ijcnjamin had reached the shore, though they waded through the foaming fringe of waters for some little dis- tance. It had cost them unheard-of efforts to save the cattle from the rising tide, to drag on the loaded carts, and keep the flocks together ; but now they all stood in safety in dry land. Only the strangers and lepers remained to be rescued. The lepers, indeed, had not Hocks nor herds, but the strangers had many, and the storm so terrified the pcojjle, as well as the cattle, that they dared not plunge into the water, which was now ankle deej). Ephraim, how- ever, reached the land, and called to the herdsmen from the shore to follow where he had passed, and under his guidance they drove the herds forward. This was success- ful ; the last man, and the last head of cattle, reached the land of safety under the raging storm, and amid loud shouts of joy. The lepers were forced to wade through waves up to their knees and even to their girdles, and before they had landed the gates of heaven were opened and the rain fell in torrents. But they, too, were safe, and though many a mother, who had been carrying her little one in her arms or on her shoulder, fell on her knees on the shore ; though many a hapless wretch who had been helping his slurdier fellow-sufferers to drag a cart through the yielding sands, or wade through the surf with a litter on his back, felt his head throb with fever ; still, they, too, had escaped destruction. They were to await further orders beyond a grove of palms which stood on some rising ground about a group of wells not far from the shore. The tribes had gone further inland, to proceed on their way at a given signal ; JOSHUA. 191 ntervals It, black ihc wind , though with the cr every dry sand ig of the cons still , rcmir.d- it him by : the tribe cy waded little dis- save the carts, and \ in safety imained to nor herds, ;rrified the not plunge raim, how- smen from under his as success- leached the .amid loud de through and before icd and the ,nd though one in her the shore ; |helping his he yielding n his back, lad escaped a grove of )ut a group had gone Iven signal ; this was to take them m a south-easterly direction mto the mountain, where inhospitable rocks prohibited any pursuit by a regular army or war chariots. Hur had gathered his men about him, and they stood armed with spears, slings, and short swords, ready to fall on the foe who might venture to set foot on land. Men and horses should be cut down and the chariots i)iled into a high barrier, so as to erect a difficult obstacle in the way of their pursuers. 'I'lu: beacons on ihe shore were so diligently fed and screened, tliat neither the rain nor the blast would extinguish them. They were to light the herdsmen who were prepared to attack the chariots, and old Nun, Hur and Kphraim stood at their head. Jiut it was in vain that they waited for the pursuers, and when the youth was the lust to see, by the glare of the beacon- fires, that the way by which the fugitives had come was now one with the broad level of tlic sea. and that the smoke was driving to the north instead of the south-west — it was about the hour of the first morning watch — a shoui of triumph burst from breasts overflowing with thankfulness and joy : *' Look at the flames ! The wind has changed ; the sea is being carried northwards I The waters have swallowed up Pharaoh's host ! " At this there was silence for a while in the multitude, and then, suddenly. Nun's loud voice was heard : " He is right, my children ! Vain is the strength of man ! O Lord God ' How terrible and fearful are Thy judgments on Thy foes ! " Here he was interrupted by a loud outcry. But by the wells, where Moses, greatly exhausted, was leaning against a palm-tree with Aaron and many others about him, the fact which Ephraim had first discerned was now observed by the rest ; the glad and terrible tidings, incredible but true, flew from mouth to mouth, and each minute confirmed their certainty. Every eye glanced sky- wards ; the black clouds were steadily sailing away to the northward. The rain was ceasing ; instead of the angry flashes and roar of thunder, a few pale gleams lighted up the isthmus and the northern lakes, and to the south the sky was clearing. At last the low moon looked out between the banks of cloud ; its peaceful ray silvered the tall flanks ofBaal-Zephonand the shores of the gulf, now bathed once more in dashing waves. The roaring and shrieking blast I I 193 josf/r.u sank to ;i imirmming hrocze iVoin the south, and llu* waters, wliich liad boi-n as a rat^'in^' monster, l)i'sii'{j;ing llir locks, now lay (|uivriiiiL; with Inoken strcnglli at tlic sioiu base of thf nioiintaui. Tlu* scM si)ica(l a shroud, dark tor a tinu', ()\<r lliosc hundriuls (/f (orpscs ; but tlu- pale moon, tie it set. look .are that the watery -^rave of a kinu; and so many |;reat personai^es should not lack a splendid pall. Ills radiance poured down on the wa\es that hiti them, decking them with a glorious embroidery of diamonds in silver setting. Whilst the east grew bright and the sky was red with dawn the tents were i)ilched : yet there was little time for a hasty morsel. Shortly after sunrise the chief called the wandering people together, and as soon as they had assembled at the springs Miriam swung the tambourine, shook the circle of bells, and struck the calf-skin lill tj^cy sounded far and wide, and as she i)nced forth with a light step, the women and maidens l"ollowed her, keeping rhyth- mical time with the dance ; and she sang : " I will sing unto the Lord, for he hath triumphed glori- ously ; the horse and his rider hath he thrown into the sea. "The Lord is my strength and song, and he is become my salvation : he is my (iod, aivJ I will prepare him en habitation ; my father's Cioil, aud I will exalt him. *' Pharaoh's chariots and his host hath he cast into the sea : his chosen captains also are drowned in the Red Sea. " The depths have covered them : *hey sank into the bot- tom as a stone. "Thy right hand, O 1-ord, is become glorious in power: thy right hand, O Lord, hath dashed in i)ieces the enemy. " And in the greatness of thine excellency thou hast over- thrown them that rose up against thee : thou sentest forth thy wrath which consumed them as stubble. " Au'^ with the blast of thy nostrils the waters were gath- ered together, the floods stood ujMight as an heap, and the depths were congealed in the heart of the sea. " The enemy said. I will pursue, I will overlake, I will divide the spoil; my lust shall be satisfied upon them; I will draw my sword, my hand shall destroy them. '' Thou didst blow with thy wind, the sea covered them ; they sank as lead in the mighty waters. " Who is likg unto thee, O Lord, among the gods ? yosin'A, '9.^ waters, c rocks, >n\ base tv those scl, took ny meal radiance iug them • selling, red witli time for ■ailed Ihc ihey had fibourinc, 1 lill tl^ey ih a light ing rhylh- hed glori- 1 into the [is become e him an 11. into the Ked Sea. o the bot- in power: le enemy, hast over- test forth ^'ere gath- ), and the ^ke, I will )n them; im. ]ed them ; )db? " Who is like thee, glorious in holiness, fcarfiil in praises, doing wonders ? " Thou in thy mercy hast led forth the [)e()ple whi( h thou hast redeemed : thou hast guided them in thy strength unto thy holy liabitation." Men and women alike joined in when she rej;. ated the cry : '' I will sing unto the T-ord, for he hath triuini)hed gloriously; the horse and his rider hath he thrown into the sea." This song and this solemn hour were never forgotten by the Israelites; and each one was full of hisClod, and of glad, thankful hope for happier days. CHAPTER XXII I. The song of praise had died away and the storm had long since ceased ; yet the morning sky, which had been red at dawn, was again covered with grey clouds, and a strong wind still blew from the south-west disturbing the lake, and shaking and rocking the crowns of ])alms which stood by the wells. The rescued people had extolled the Most High, and even the coldest and most perverse had joined in Miriam's hymn of praise, but, as the procession of dancer,, approached the sea, mauy would have gladly left the ranks and have hastened to the strand where many things attracted them. Hundreds had now betaken themselves to the shore, where the waves like generous robbers disgorged and washed up on to the sawd that which they had engulfed during the night. Nor did the >yomen even allow the wind to hinder them, for covetousness and revenge, the most powerful instincts in the human breast, drew them to the shore. Some new object appeared every moment to excite their greed \ for here lay the corpse of a warrior, and there his overthrown chariot in the sand. From this, if it had been the possession of a great man, they tore the silver or golden ornaments : from the owner they took his short sword or battle-axe out of his girdle, and men and women of the common class, slaves and slave women of the Hebrews, and the strangers, robbed the bodies of their clasps and '3 >94 yosf/c.t. bracelets, which were of precious metal, or tore the rings from the swolK-n fingois of ihe drowned. The ravens wliicli had followed the wanderers, and which had disai)peared during the sioim, now returned, and were striving, screeching against the wind, at least to maintain a place on the booty, llu- sci'ul of which had alliacled them. liut far greedier than they, were tlu diegs of the wan dering host, and win n the sea threw a cosily article on shore a wild cry was raised, and hard blows exchanged. Ti leaders themselves kept back, for they considered that (he Hebrews had a right to the s\){)\\ ; and if one of them tried to prevent gross covetousness the people re- fused to obey him. What the l''gyi)tians had so latily brought upon tl.em was so dreadful tliat it never i-ntered the minds of the best of them to restrain their ihiisl tor reviMige. Mon-over, grey- beartled men of high j)()sition, and women and mothers, whose appearance besi)()ke a kindly disposition, drove back the few unfortunates who had succeeded in reaching the strand on the wreckage of the w.u-chariots and bag gage-wagons. With slu'i^herds' en)oks and travelers' staves, knives and axes, or by throwing stones and spiteful words, tiiey forced them to release their hold on the float- ing wood ; and the few who were still on land were driven by the furious mob back into the sea which had spared them in vain. Their wrath w.is so great, and revenge such a sacred duty, that none dreamed of the respect, compassitm and consideration due to misfortune ; not a word that could hint of magnanimity or pity, or even of the i)rofit that might be gained by saving the rescued to be slaves, or as prisoners of war to be ransomed. " Death to the arch-enemy I " — " Destruction fall on them!" — "Away with them!" — "Give them as food to the fishes ! " — " Vou drove us and our children into the sea, away with you into the salt waves ! " These were the cries that were raised on every side and which no one checked, not even Miriam and Ephraim, who likewise had gone down to the shore to witness the tragedy that was being enacted there. Though the maiden was now the wife of Hur, her de- meanor and chaiacter had been very little altered by her marriage. The fate of the people and her relations with yos//cA. i95 Lhc lings nd wliii.h iiul Nvcrc lainlaiu a led llu-m. lhc wan- nticU- en >cchangi'd. oiisidcri'<l \ if one of people re- ipon ll.om i)f tlu- 1>''M i)vcr,grt y \ motluMs, ion, drovf m rcacliing s and bag^ tvavclcrs' md spiuful m the float ivcvc drivcMi had spared h a sacred passion and that could profit that flaves, or as kon fall on as food to ni into the »ry side and Ephraim, witness the ,Iur, her de [ered by her tlations with her Ciod, whose pro|)hetess she felt slic was, were still her higlust thought ; and now that all she had hoped and j)raye(l tor was being fiilfiUcd, now that she had givrn expression to the fi-eiings of the faithful in song, march- ing ill front of the thankful multitude, she considered sue attained the summit of her existence. Kphraim first had reminded her of Joshua, and while she spoke with him of the prisoner she w.ilketl proudly along like a (pieen, and answering the greetings of the l)eopIe with m.iji-stic dignity. Ilir eyes sparkled with happiness, and her face wore only for a few minutes an expression of piiy when the youth told her of the hard- ships he had endured with his uncle. Of course she still reinembered the man she had loved, but he was no longer essential to the high aim of her life. Kphraim had just mentioned the lovely I'!gypii.in woman who loved his uncle, and at whose petition the c'lain ; had been taken off the prisoners, when a loud cry was raised on a part of the shore where a great crowd had collected. Howls of rage and ci ies ofjoy went up together, obviously caused by the fact that the sea had thrown up something ])anicularly valuable on land. Curiosity attrat'ted them both to the spot ; and as Miriam's pioiid dignity caused the peojjle to stand aside, she soon caught sight of the body of a traveling chariot which had lost its wheels, and of its pitiable contents. The linen canopy which had screened it was torn away, and lying on its floor were two elderly Egyptian women ; a third, much younger, lay against the back seat of this singular vehicle, which had thus become a boat. The first two lay dead in the water that covered the bottom of the carriage, and several Hebrew women were in the act of tearing off the costly ornaments from the throat and arms of one of them. The younger woman had escaped death by a wonderful chance, and now she was offering her very precious jewels to the Hebrew women. At the same lime, with pale, quivering lips and slender, half-benumbed hands, she was promising the robbers, in a soft, harmonious voice, to give thc^m all she had, and a handsome reward in money as well, if they would sj)are her life. She was still so young, and she had been kind, very kind, to a Hebrew. If they would but hear her This petition sounded affecting, though it was interrupted so frequently with curses and groans that little 196 yos/ii'.i. 1 1 1 ;ii of it w.'i-. aiKliMc. fiisl .is Miriam .ind riphniiin rcarhcd the shore she scri-aiucd aloiid, for a hnitil woman tore the gold snake from her ear. 'I'he Kgyptian girl's cry of anguish striirk the youth like n sword thrust, and the color left his face as he recognized Kasana's voice. The corpses hy her were those of her nurse and of Baie's wife. Kj)hraim. almost beside himself, thrust aside the men who separated him from the victim on one side and hastened towards the remains of tin chariot ; si)rang into the sand bank at the fool of which the vehicK was stranded, and cried, with burning cheeks and impetuous passion : " Hack I Woe to those who touch her I " Ihit a Hebrew woman, the wife of a brickmaker, whose child had died in frightful convulsions on the journey through the sea, had already snatched the dagger from Kasana's girdle and had stabbed her in the back, with the cry : "'I'hat's for my little Ruth ! Wretch !" She raised the bh)ody poignard for a second blow; but before she could strike her enemy again, Kphraim rushed between them and wrenchid away the knife. Then, stand ing in front of the hai)lcss creature, he shouted in loud menace : " Murderers and thieves ! If one of you dares to touch her, his l)lood shall mingle with that of this woman ! " With these words he fell on his knees ! y the side of the bleeding victim, and, finding that she had lost con- sciousness, he lifted her in his arms, and carried her to Miriam. The startled plunderers for a few minutes suffered him to do as he w«uld, but before he had gained his < d a cry was raised of : " Vengeance, vengeance ! We fc- rd the woman, and the body is ours alone." ** How dare the haughty Ephraimite call us robbers and murderers ? " " When there is a chance of shedding Tgyptian blood, it shall flow ! " The Lord our God spares not, nor c.o \vv ! " " Seize him ! " '* Seize tlie "irl ! " But the lad paid no heed o this outbreak of rage till Ka- sana's head was resting on Miriam's bo ,om, where she was sitting on a sandhill near at hand, ard ihen, as the angry crowd rushed upon him, the women outst- i' pirg llie men, he once more flourished his dagger, crying : " T^.ick ! Hold off I I tell you once more. If there are any men here of y'KsiiCA. "97 rc;ul»cd tore ihe s < ry of and tlu» e. and of the men side and ran^ i"'o licle was ,cr, wliosc e journey j^ger from i)ack, widi blow; but lim rushed hen, stand ;d in loud I vou dares t of this y the side lost eon- ed her to ffered him < ■ '1 a cry f(; \-i\ the v dare the Lirderers?" n Mood, it )r CO ^ve !" [age till Ka- jre she was the angry |tl>cmen,he ll Hold off! 'u here of I'.^phraiiM or Jiidah, let iheni come to my side, or to Miri- am's, the wife of their cliief I Well done, my hrethreii, and woe to him who la) s a hand on nie ! Vengeance, do you say? Are )ou not avenged by that hya.'iia which has murdered this poor defenceless creature? ^'ollr victim's jewels? Well, well; they are yours, and I will give you my own into the bargain, so long as you leave the wife of Hur free to care for ilie dying woman I " He bent over K,is;iiui, took from her j)erson all she had about her of pins or rings, and placed them in the greedy hands stn-tched out to leceivc them. Then he took the broad gold band from his own arm, held it up, and cried : This is th P d Go b .'tb share then, isom. this woman to .Miriam, and you sliall liave it to among you. If you insist on blood, come on- but I keep the bracelet ! " These words did not fail in their effect. The angry women looked first at the heavy, broad gold band, and then at the splendid youth, and the men of Judah and P^phraim who had rallied iound him ; and then gazed inquiringly at each other. At last the wife of a foreign trader cried out: " (iive us the gold, and we will leave the wounded darling to the chiefs son ! " The rest agreed to this decision, although the furious brickmaker's wife, who meant to have done a deed pleas- ing in the eyes of her god by avenging her child, ai d had, in consequence, been accused as a murderess, still threat- ened Ephraim with frenzied gestures till she was dragged away to thw shore by the crowd who hoped to find fresh booty the.e. Through all the tumult Miriam, without a qualm of fear, had examined and bound up Kasana's wounds with a sk/'- ful hand. The dagger, a gift in jest from Prince Siptah, that his fair one might not go forth to battle unarmed, had inflicted a deep stab under one shoulder, and she had lost so much blood that the feeble flicker of life seemed to die out at every breath. But she still lived, and she was carried into Nun's tent, as being the nearest at hand. The old chief had just been giving out weai)ons to the herdsmen and youths gathered together by his grandson to go forth to liberate his beloved son, and had promised himself to join the expedition, when the melancholy party reached the tent. If Kasana had admired the noble tl i!r 198 JOSHUA. old man, so had Hiir felt very kindly towards Ilornecht's lovely daughter in the by-gone years at Tanis. They hud never met without she giving him some pretty greeting, and he would reply to her : '* The Lord bless thee, child I " or, ** A happy day for an old man when he meets so sweet a maid ! '' Many years ago, while she still wore the curls of a very yomig girl, he had even given her a lamb with especially silky, snow-white wool, after he had concluded a l)argain with her father, exchanging some corn from Hornecht's land for steers of his own famous breed. And a1! his son had ever told him of Kasana had tended to en- hance his regard for her. She seemed in his eyes the most lovable of all the maidens of Tanis, and if she had been the child of Hebrew parents it would have rejoiced him to see her married to his son. To fmd hi;; favorite again in so pitiable a plight was so great a grief to the old man that the tears ran down on his snowy beard, and his voice shook when he saw the blood- stained bandage about her shoulder. When she was laid on his couch, and Nun had i)laced his medicine chest at the i)rop]ictess' service, Miriam desired the men to leave her alone with the sufferer ; and when she called them back into the tent, she had revived Kasana with some drug and bound her wound with greater care. With her hair smoothly arranged and the l)lood all washed away, she lay between fresh linen sheets like a sleci)ing child, hardly looking as if she had attained woman's estate. And she still breathed, though the blood had not returned to her lips or cheeks, and it wa.s not til) she had again swallowed the mixture which Miriam had prepared for her that she opened her eyes. At the foot of the bed stood the old man and his grand- son, and each would fain have asked the other how it came to pass that he could not refrain his tears as he looked into the face of this stranger. The conviction which Ephraim had so unexpectedly gained, that Kasana was base and false-hearted, had revolted him, and frightened him back into the right way which he had left. Nevertheless, he had kept all he had overheard in the tent locked in his own heart, and when he had told his grandfather and Miriam that Kasana had interceded kindly for the prisoners, and both had desired to learn more from him, he had felt as a father might who had ornccht's rhey had greeting, J, child!" i so sweet the curls lamb with L:oneluded corn from ;ed. And dcd to en- ;s the most tlbcen the him to see ght was so own on his the blood- he was laid ne chest at en to leave \ them back le drug and h her hair vay, she lay hild, hardly And she rncd to her 1 swallowed er that she his grand- low it came looked into inexpcctcdly lad revolted y which he d overheard he had told Interceded led to learn Iht who had JosurA. 109 witnessed the crime of a l)elovjd son, and not a word of the horrors he had henrd i)assed his h'ps. Now, he was glad he had kept silence ; for in spite of all he had seen and heard, this pure and lovely creature '.'as surely incap- able of anything dishonorable. Old Nun had never ceased to think of her as the sweet child he had known so well, the aj)ple of his eye and joy of his heart. He looked down on the quivering fea- tures with tender l)ity, and when at length she ojjt ncd her eyes, he smiled at her with fatherly affection. The light in her eyes showed that she, too, at once recogiii/t d him and I'.phraim, but when she tried to nod Ivr head to them she was too weak. Still, her expressix' lace confessed her surprise and pleasure ; and wlieii Miriam, for the third time, offered her the draught, cxmX moistened her brow with some strong essence, she looked from one to another with her large eyes, and seeing their curious gaze she was able to say in a low voice : " These wounds ache so, and death Shall 1 die ? " They glanc'.-d inquiringly at each other, and the men would very gladly have con- cealed the dreadful truth, but she went on : ''Oh, let. me know ; tell me the trutli, I ])ray you 1 " And Miriam, who was kneeling on the gr(;und by her side, found courage t'^ rei)ly : •' Yes, poor, young thing, the wound is deej) ; but all my art may do to save you shall be done, to preserve your life as long as possible." The words were spoken kindly andcomi)assionatcly, and yet the prophetess' dcc]i voice seemed to jar on Kasana's ear ; her lips curled piiiuilly while Miriam spoke, and when she ceased the sufferer closed her eyes and large tears flowed down her cheeks. Deep and anxious silence reigned till she opened her eyes once more, and fixing them sadly on Miriam's face asked, as if in amazement at something strange, " You, a woman, are learned in the leech's art ? " To which Miriam replied : " My God hath bidden me to care for the sufferers among my people." At this the dying woman's eyes sparkled aneasily, and she exclaimed in a stronger voice, indeed with a vigor which surprised her hearers: "You are Miriam, the woman who sent for Joshua to go to her ; " and when Miriam replied unhesitatin^jdy and simi)ly : " As you say," Kasana went on : " And you are. indeed, of great and aoo j\\s/fr\i. nil nuijcslii; l)cMiity, anil must be capable of great things ! He t)l)eyecl ycnir <iill, and you- -you could nevertheless niarry another? " And at;ain the prophetess answered, but in r. gloomier t(Uie : " As you say." 'I'hcn the dying woman closed her eyes again, and a strange < overt smile jjarted her lips. Ihit this was not Ibr long ; rhe became uneasy and rest- loss. The fingers of her little hands, I'ler lips, even her eyebrows, were never still, arid her smooth narrow brovr was fiirrowed as though she had something weighing on her brain. .\t length the trouble which disturbed her peace fovmd utterance, and she ^aid incpiavering accents . " Vou are ICphraim, whom he loved as a son, and you are Nun, the old man his father. There you stand, and you will live, while 1 Oh, and it is so hard to leave the liglit of liny. .Vinibis will lead me before the judgrient seat of ( )siris, my heart will be weighed, and then " She shudvlered violently, opening and closing iicr trem- bling hands ; but she soon recovered herself, and began to speak once more, liut Miriam positively forbade her as it must hasten the end. At this Kasana collected all her strength and exclaimed (juickly, and as loudly as she could, glancing at Miriam from top to toe : " So you would hinder me from doing what 1 must do.? You!" There was an accent of con- tempt in her tone ; but ihe no doubt felt that she must husband her strength, for she went on more calmly, and as if speaking to herself : *' But I cannot depart thus — not thus ! How it happened — why I did it all — I must confess ; and I will not complain if only he may know how it came to pass. Oh, Nun, good old Nun. who gave me a lamb when I was yet but a child — I loved it so — and you, Ephraim, my boy, I will tell you everything." A painful ccnigh here checked her utterance ; as soon as she had recovered her breath she turned to Miriam ngain and wont on, in a voice so full of bitter aversion that it startled those who knew her kindly nature : "It is you — yoii, tall woman wiib. a man's voice, and the learning of a leech — you who b^gi:ilcd him from Tanis, and from me. He went and carnc and did your bidding. And you — you 1 ecame anothci man's wife — it must have been after hi coming; yes for when Ephraim brought your yosit(-.t. 20 1 things \ irthclcss jrloomier 1, and a and rcst- cvcn her ow brovr ghing on irbcd her accents . and you Land, and leave the judgment then- " her trenv d began to idc her as c\claimod 1 at Miriam "rom doing nit of con- she must [ahnly, and rt thus — ,11 — I mus^: may know who gave cd it so — thing." ; as soon to Miriam \r aversion " It is ^e learning and from And you liavc been ight your message he spoke of you as a maiden. Whether it was a grief to Joshua I know not. But another thing I know, and that is that I have somewhat to confess before it is too late. And n<jiK' jnay hear il l)ul those who love him, and 1 —do you heai ? — I love him more ihau all else on earth ! Vou I you ha\e a hiisbaud, and a (!(;(! wlK)se bidding you zealously oi)ey as you yourself have said. What is Joshua to you? I beg you to leave us. Very few have I met in my life to whom I could not feel kindly, but you I — I cannot love, I know not why, — and if you remain near me I caiuiotspeak^ — and I nuisl — and it hurls ine so lo sj^eak 1 j'ul before }{)n go— )()u ;;re a i)hysician — wW me one thing: I have so many tilings to say to liim before I die — will il kill me if I speak? " And again the propheUss found no reply but her brief, ** As you say," and her lone was" one of stern warning. Hesitating between the duty she owed lo the sufferer as her physieian, and her desire not lo conlnivene the wishes of a dying creature, she glanced at old Nun, and reading in his face a command to yield to Kasana's wish she bent lier head and (juitted the tent. JJut as she stood outside the i)oor soul's bitter words come home to her, and spoilt the day that had begun so gloriously, aye, and many an hour after ; and to the last she could never explain to her- self how il was that in the ])rescnce of that hapless, dying woman a feeling had possessed her that she was the smaller, the inferior creature. As soon as Ivasana found herself alone with the grand- father and grandson, and Ephraim had fallen on his knees by the bedside, while the old man, after kissing her brow, stood with his hoary head bent to hear her low tones, she began again : " Now 1 am easier. That tall woman — her knit black brows— Iier eyes as dark as nigh I — they are fiery indeed, and yet so cold . . . that woman . . . I)id Joshua love her, father? Tell me. 1 do not ask out of idle curiosity." " He honored her," replied the old man in some trouble, " as do all our people. She is of a lofty spirit, and our Ciod vouchsafes lo her to hear His voice. lUit you, sweet one, were dear to him e\'cn as a child ; that I know." A slight shudder ran through her frame. For a short space slic closed her eyes and a blissful smile lighted up her face. This lasted so long that Nun thought that I'l 302 JOSHUA. I li I I ■:'i(i death had already claimed her, and he leaned over her, listening to her breathing, with the draught in his hand. She did not seem to see him ; but when at last she looked up again, she put out her hand for the cup, drank from it^ and then went on : " I felt as though he were there before me — Joshua himself He wore his warrior's dress, as he did the first time he took me on his arm. I was but a little cliild, and I was afraid of him because he looked so grave, and my nurse had told me that he had slain miniy enemies. But I was happy when he came, and when lie went away I was sad. And years went on, and my love for him grew as I grew. My young hoarl was so full of him, so full . . . Yes, even when I was compelled to marry another, and after I was a widow." The last words were scarcely audible, and .she rested a while before she went on : " Joshua knows it well — only he does not know how anxious I was when he was in the field, and how I longed for him till he came home again. At last, at last, he returned, and how glad I was to sec him once more ! But he himself ! That woman — Ephraim told me — that tall, proud woman bid him go to Pithom. Yet he came back from thence, and then, O Nun. That was hardest of all to bear — he refused my hand when my father offered it That — ah, how it hurt me ! I can no more — give me the cup again." Her cheeks had colored slightly as she made this pain- ful confession ; and the old man, perceiving how quickly the efforts she was making were bringing her to the end, begged her to be silent. But she insisted on making use of- what little time remained to her, and though a piercing pain and tormenting short cough forced her to press her hand to her bosom she went on : " Then I hated him ; but not for long ; and I never loved him more than when I went after the hapless prisoner — you know, boy. And then came the dreadful, horrible time, \\\i shameful things — but he must know it all that he may not despise me if he ever hears. I never knew my mother, and there was no one to warn me . . . Where shall I begin ? Prince Siptah — you know him, father — the bad man who will soon be lord over Egypt. My father is in a plot with him. Great gods ! I can speak no more ! " Terror and despair were painted in her face; but Ephraim broke in and confessed with tearful eyes and a yosin'A. over her, his hand, le looked Ic from it^ ;re before ;ss, as he was but a looked so lain many , when lie d my love ; so full of ipellcd to last words before she J not know and how I ist, at last, ncc more '. me— that et he came as hardest ther offered le — give me this pain- low c^uickly to the end, ' laking use a piercing press her Ind I never [he hapless le dreadful, 1st know it I never b me . . • fhim, father My father no more 1 facei but leyes and a trembling voice ail he had overheard by iier tent that night, and she confirmed it with assenting glances. When at last he spoke of the high priest Baie's wife, whose body had been thrown up on the strand by Kasana's side, she interrupted him in a low voice, saying, " She devised it all. She wanted her hus])and to be supreme in the land, and govern even Pharaoh, for Siptah is no king's son." "Aye," said the old man, only anxious to stop her speaking and to help her to tell all she wished to make known, *' and as Baie raised him up, so can he overturn him. He, even more surely than his i)rcdccessor, will be the tool of the man who has made him king. I know Aarsu, the Syrian, and, if I am not deceived, the time is coming when he will aim at seizing the reins of power in Egypt, torn as it will be by internal divisions, though he and his mercenaries have so far helped others to snatch them. But you, child, what prompted you to follow the army and that profligate traitor ? " Kasana's eyes gleamed more brightly again, for the question led directly to the matter of which she desired to speak, and she replied as clearly as her foiling strength al- lowed, '' It was for your son's sake — for love of him — to procure his release. Only the evening before I had re- fused positively to go with Baie's wife. But when 1 had seen Joshua once more by the well, and he — ah, he was so kind at last, and kissed my brow ! And I saw him in misery — alas, poor heart ! I saw the best of men doomed to perish in disgrace and sickness. And when he went onward with chains on his feet it suddenly struck me." " Then, brave, foolish, misguided child that you are, you d.termincd to win the devotion of the future king in order to secure the release of your friend, my son ? " The dying woman smiled and said softly, ** Yes, yes ; for that and that alone. And I loathed the prince. And the disgrace, the shame — horrible, horrible ! " " So it was for my son's sake that you endured it all," cried the old man interrupting her, and her hand which he pressed to his lips was wet with his tears, while she turned to Ephraim and sighed : " And I thought of this lad, too. He is so young and the mines so terrible." Again she shuddered. The boy covered her hand with kisses while she looked tenderly in his face and his grand- father's, and added : " Now all is well, and if the gods grant him freedom " WW 404 Jy^Sf/r I. Hcic I'.plnjnn ImoUc in, " W'r iitr Mclliii^ f<iMh this vrrf {\',\\ loi tlic mines I ,\\n\ u)\ ininimlrs :in(1 my nnnnl rrtl)»r» will tltixr lli^ Uicpcis lo tlic luMi winth " " \ntl hi' shall Icain lioin niv own h|"s," sjiid Nun, "how lnil\ K,is.»n;i IomiI hnn, .nul lii-^ whole li(r will Im loo short to ih.tnK hri loi snrh .\ m;u tiliMv" HisvtMtr InlrtI hint Ihil rviiy tin col tionbh' lunl VMnishrd lion> the dyiiif; wnm.in's l,n r. .unl she l;i\ loi sonu" tinu' gn/in^; upwMitIs in silent i ontentnient, Ihit then. I>y desires, an anxions linwntaine on hei lnow.anil she sul'llv ijaspetl o\it " It is wt II vcs, all is well lait vrt one tlnn}^. My l>0(l\, inu niltahneil with ih> hoi) ;un\ilets And heie Nnn aj^annntcnuitled Inr, saving " As scjon ns we have elosetl vovit ev(>s 1 will delivei it, salelv Wrapped, to tlie riuvineian seanian who is rjoqr at haml. that he >nay eonNey it to yoiii lather " She tiieil to turn her head to thank hitn with a loving fflanee . i>ut suddenly she einlehed at her tinoat with hotli \ands, daik Mood rose to hiM lips, a lnif;ht Hanie tinged ]w\ eheeks ami laded to «lead whiti\ and alUr a short and painlid stinggle she sank l»;iek. OiMth liatl laid his hand on \\w lining lu\»rt, and her laee wore the look of ji child's wlu>so tuiUher has rv>rgiven it some I'anll, and kissed ii before it fell asleei>. Nvni elosed he\ eyes, weeping as he did so ; Kphraim, lieeply nunevl, kissevl the vlr«M»ping lids ; ami after a few tuonuMUs' silenee the oM in.an said : " I IronhK' myself ver\ little ahont the life beyoi\d the grave, of whieh oven M*>sos knows nothing, hnt one who Ii\es as she has lived must always svirvive in the faithful memory o\ those whom she lovevl ; aiul she has done her part, it seems to mc, to Attain inmh>rtality. We will disjxise o\ her hotly aeeording lo our pn>mise, .v.id then set forth lo prove to him for whom Kasana gave all she had to give, that we love him uo less well than the Kgyplian womatr." JOSHUA, m% his vorf id Ntm. « will l>» ijijr IiikI r l;tv f"i III. Itiit now. ;tn«l vill l.ut no lu»l) ' As soon ii, siilrlv • ;i< Ii.iimI. ll ;l loving lie tinned slunt ;in(l I his liniul )!■ ji child's kissed ii V'|ihriiim, Mo niysoir Ihirh oven has hvrd >se whom to inc, lo Imording him for love him ( IIAI'IIK XXfV 'fill' prisoMfm wcic in.ikm^; IIkii way l>iii nlowly lo fhf ininrs. N'-vci in nil lii'; < h|i' tirn( c liid ilif hnAa of \\\f y.ing known ;i wofic ioiiincy llnoiiidi llif d<'';rrt, rnof ilM k !«•';■; in cvriy w;iy. "i 'io |ir':» t willi Miisli;i[i^ ;Mid liifi dl.'UM ( "; < Mic o( hi'; " mo|( ',," l',(i|iraim, lo wit, had inadf his <'Hra|ir ; in Jiad lost oiir o( jiis failliliil lioiin(h , and after his g.'iii|; hiid ltd n Iciiihi d and diem lud hy mk h a ';torfrj IS s< an ely liclcll oiuc in five yeai'; in alllliat tliir<;ly traf;t, anolliei oveiloid: Ihcin on the (oll'iwin^ day flir sairi'" in wlii( h I'liaiaoh and his host had |>erisli»d 'vrn more violent and prrsisleiit than the (ir-;t The lernjiest had sl(»|t|M'd Ihi ii ir ir( ll, and afti r this sn (»nd 'ieluj.^' ';orne <»f his prisoners and incn had si( krned wilh \< w<r from ;|rr|,iiig on the W(( f',ioiind in the o|»en air. I'",ven tlif f'^^yplian .isses, nnaceiislonied lo llic rain, had siifferf d frf/rn the wellini;, and Mie hrsl had heen left to (he on the way. At last llcy had liren <-onipelled to hiiry two f)f (!,eir eoiiu.'ules in ihe sand, and three more were so ill that they must he mounted on the asses that w(;re left , thus the prisoners werc^ (or< cd (o <arry the provisions wilh w})if;h the he.ists had heen laden. In all his twenty fivf: years' experience sin li a thing had never heh>re hapoened tr; I heir guide, and he looked forward to severe rcj>roof at home. All this had a had effeel on the man's temper, though he was commonly regarded as the mofit hmient of liis trihe, and jouhiia, as tlu' a(;comj)liee of the aiida(.ioiis rascal wliose escape was the hcginning of a,ll these vexations, was the chief victim of his wrath. Angry as he was, the leader of ihi gang mighl perhajts have dealt more mercifully with him if he had bewailed his lot like the man next behind him, or cursed as loudly as his companion in chains, who sjient his breath in threats of a time coming when his sister-in-law would be in attendance on Pharaoh, and she would find some way to punish the man who had ill-treated her dear sister's husband. 1 1.. I .-: 1 w «»»ri f 7V'v;/rj. I I )Mi||M:\ li;((l mull' l\(;«(lr t)l« M'l liliiul l(t f.lkr fill \\w u^\)>\\\ tiiiMi '.\\\*\ Im-^ mkmi I niltd (III It) liiin wiili ;i<i < itihi HMbmi'<'<ii>n :\'* the smnhin); 'iiin uliii h li;nl IimIhhiI liim tn.iin :» imif r\f till') (|l^lM^ lii'; iPiin Ih'M ;u itf.'i llir «l» 'rit. nniirt .ntn't ; .nul hi'; tiviniv 'ipiiil uml stionj' ^vill li, Ijx i| l\iin (•> Ki ( p llii'; It' ;i<Inlii'H Win ii llir »|imi i Inndi d |<ii)i \\\\\\ A IWiMCilHMI'J ImIIIIicII. I\r ( njlci Ici) ill! llu nlH ll^'lji «i( his pourHnl nuiM li'^ ,nitl inii.Kil Iimwim! iiihIi i ii wiili onl I n bi IliiMt'i \\iM(l hll In i j, nrr'4 |',;i\r \\;iv , :U<t\ llnii lii'i i\ 1 \n( \> I Ml 111 il\ .H I mil. '.nihil i lew l';ili ■; Imm oil jn'f •^lionld r--. iMil <l<ln<' In' l\\{\\ ;ill lln- \^ it I i tlin •;•; o( lii'i l\(';nl. :inil lllll ill III- lin|ic(| d'l \\;|'i lli.il lie ni|)'lll I'.'IVc li< l>r 111! «<n llirWM iiinl mi I'linn lif: dinii inln liiillii'i iii>iiM(' . ImU III noiiM iii'l Irt lir; |nr;oin''- •liriil liiin of lilill ll\ 1"^ v\ lllll lllll J ' \\ I 1 1 in I'll) (I ill t In- iiiiin ( <ni (• llii' mill lulln ird i ilny wniiiid . Inil lir wm; immrili.ii.'h 111";! .iiiviinr-h i.iirliil lli.il il 'Innild It 111 .lid . 1^.1 \ I Imii Willi- In 'ill I ni'jiii II liim. :ind di l;n i d IIh- «.n,i\,in l«M li.ill .1 d.i\ lliiil lir mij^lil m '.I lie li.id n«M loiinMIni ruin ipl l|>l:lll I" I 'Mli' I of ;| spl ndid irniid lo lln- m.ni alio 'Inmld Iniii)', Inm in w •; nl hl>^ pusoMiMs dr. nil , ImiI lie >\;|'. ;m IhHU'.I lll;ili. Mild it « .1 ' \\\\'- \m\ piiMinsr Willi il pii>iii| >lrd t mil Ik w ;iI( Ii Willi «|MM i,d r.iir i'\ri |odm,i\ lili- . (im tin- MiiistiolislirsH ol lv\\m«: ih'ulri ir.l ins diili Im .im prismi.ii |iinli( Wdiild llWi^ sjivnlrd his ;ip|>tMitr ioi iiu'.ll, diilik ;llid pUm p, lIu' ihioo Mv'ssiniis \\c mosi |Mi7rd. Ilrmr. (Ihmi^Ii (lie Hv^brrw li.id miuh lo snIlvM, ii w.is iml In \oiid ( iidiiiniicc ; .nul it w,is ;i ]\\\\ pUMsmo lo lio .-ililc In lij^liloii llu- wncsof iuswc.ikvi tomi.ulrs In- rxmlnif; his ('wnf>i(;il slim^lli. \\c h.ul irsii;iu-vi h's liUo In ilu' (Ind whn li;id callrd liini tv> sono Uim , hnl his soiAivi\ ho Uik w. w;is snimihinf, n\vno than mvMo piv>\is tuisl . niul d;i\ ;i«id nif^lil Ins niiiMl was sot on thght. Ihit tho loHois wlin h linkod him In his tolUnv \iotnn woio so liimly iiv»h»l. and sn rarrliilly vAammvvl and hainmoi od night and iiinnnn^',, lluil ;iiiy anompt tv^ OS* apo nnrd only ha\o ondod in innio cruel niiSvMx . rho i^isv^novs woio ovMuhu'tod liisl aotoss a hilly ronnliy and t]\on tvnvavds a Umn rani;o ol nuninlain'; lying in rroiil o\ llio;n. till ihoy roaohod a ilosoil tiaoi win ic woalhoi worn botdilofs of sandstone stood up ju intervals from the iwky gvoiuKi. ynsnr i. t"/ Vv nil Mh' li :m « ititw \\\u'i\ liint \\\v «1< '« ". ivill h !)•'<' ,,.,,!( (I I'im .;(HH|.>l|t ol 1, I it Willi iii'il 'I" " llntli "I' '"■' \\\, •;■; nl I'i'i (■III l'!l\'' '" ntd lniH\«M hr;<l l»"»< "' I 'i ImiI lie wn'i ilinnld I"' ,1, I;, VI <l ll"' ii'Mii'"' "' •'' |,u„ lu \v; ol iu;iii. :""' •' , umH I^ will* ,, ioH'OM-sH ol juolil wouM |l (mhiiMnrr . I. \\\v Nvors ol \ , iilUd bin» -lit Ills miiHl il bini to liis [so rarrfiilly .. ihal any more niirl \iUy coiinlry ing in t'roni a Is liom ihc f )n llir (iflli (Vrfiitii^ llir ^;iM^ H\ii\i\iit] fd f ;» \>y ,i lofty liMiimliiid wliK li rntiiir ',' ririf (| \n ji-iv (lil f| ufi 'nit fif ();it ifiV'i' III i;f(iiM , mimI iI iiiMtiic. on til' siKlli iriorniiii^, flicy fiit»i<»l Mff »|(i\vii !( V ilN'V Ic'idiii^ t'l til' ifiiii'q. I Ik'V Ii'kI Mvnl iI;' II imi okc mk i , i,u fhr dr .r fl »y, Mi'^y li;i«l < otii' ii|i Willi I Id' .'j'MjM r (I'Mfi tlic l<iiif;'; tr- isnry I K V IikI, (III llir dtli' I li iii'l, iri< I .'Vr.'il ';tfMll i ;ir 'V.in- « (i|i\ '•> iiij> inil.'K liilf , till (|i|(ii';»-; riiifl f o(i|if<r \it l'';(y|»t, .n Wt'll ;i • ill' ^ic II ^l.t'; ; i(i;iliiil,i' tiiinl in tli' ir ij^lilioi lioofj (ll I In MIIIH v Ani'iii); ;i |i;iilv' wli'im iIm y met ;it tlir o|i'nifi(.( of fl^' j»i(ij;r iiilo w!ii( ll III' V 'lr.'i);'(| 'If till. I I .1 'I ly, wt'' ;i iM;iiii''l <«iii|»|r, (III til' II vviy li'nn' wi I'i, liiviii^ li'^'ii (i.Mil'ill' 'I |i\ ill' llll^ III' 'ImV I p'MIlt' 'I to lIl'Tfl, to l.iKc ill'' ';|iiiil . (ll III 1 evil III ;!' 'I ' iir.l' ;, " |ii|l tl|f -;i^;;lit of III' III Ii.i'l '|iiil HI o|i|i'i.il' ' fl' ' I . I'll III'' III, III'-; link' ifijd liMii \v;i'; jiIk.mIv ^^ny. llionj^li li' \v,m li,iff|ly (»,;-;l tlnrly, Ills ImII ri(MM' ll' III Miifj li.ii^i^.ii'l, .iiifl liis l>;»rf Ii.k k Nlri|iefl wiili iMiny s(,ir; jiii'l »l'i|i''l Mo'cl, wliiU In. wif' , wlio Ii;mI 'ili.ii'd 111; l.il', li mI ynwi' Mind Slic sit Ini'Ml' 'I r>ri Ml ;iss ill ill' litoo'lin^ tn' l.iii' li'ily of ifi,ini,i , ;in'l ;illliniij.',|i III' |iii ;'iii )',aiiK. •'•'' ''i' y fn.ii'li''! |m'-;I, |f>ii'Ily lii'ikr llic '.ill lir< of ill'" <|f";rrl, ;iiifl li' i li';uirif/ \v,i . ;is ';li;ii|i IIS (Vt I, sli' I'MkI ii'i lirf'I to Hi' ffi, Imt st.'tnd iin mov( (i into \ ;i< ;iiii y riir siglil ol lli'Sc Ii;i|il wr'trlif; li'M iiji liis own hideous l;it(' ;is <l';uly .'is ,( mirioi lirfoi' fr»sh!i;i,'s f yrs , lor llir liisl lijric lie gio;irir'| .iUhkI, jind rl;is)»f'| hn li.'inds over liis luce. Tlii ; lli' drivi notircd, aii'l toiK.lK'd liy tlic liori'ir ■ if a man \vli'»s'' p'lWcrs (;f fndiir;inf, ■• had lill now sccnird indomilahlc, In- rricd to fiini ; '■ [Jut t.h<:y do not all K'liiin lik'.' Ihis , no indf-d, not like tfii; ' " " IUmhusc Ihcy arc even mor' iiU'rly wr' t' lif.-d," he thonghl to hini'.clf. " lull that |">or f'llow need not know that. Noxt time I conic this way f will rfrn'-mh'r to ask for Joshua, for I shall l>r ciirioii; to kii'iv wh.it will |)fr.ome of SIM h a Imll of a iriati. 'I'hc ?;lrongrst and most deter- mined often are the '|iii(:kest to [»(rish." At this he lloiirished hiswliij) over the heads of liis^ang as if he were driving,' a team of horses, withr>iit tf>iir;hing tiicm, however, 'i'hen he j>ointr(l [o a r.lond (if smoke rising from behind a wall of rock on the right hand and said : 2o8 yosur.i. I •* There arc the smelting furnaces ! We shall be In by mid-day. Flic re is no lack of fires here to cook our len- tils, and a bit of sheep's tlesh into the bargain ; for we are keeping the kind god's birthday, tlie Son of Ra. Long may he live I Hail and good health to him !" For half an hour longer they toiled along the dry bed of a torrent, with high banks on each side ; after the storm a roaring mountain stream had rushed down this gully to the lower ground, and even now a few pools were exhaling their moisture. When the melancholy tniin liad made their way round a steep shoulder of rock, on the toj) of which stood a .small Egyptian temple to Halhor and a con- siderable number of grave-stones, they found themselves close to a bend in the ravine which led to the gorge where the mines lay. P'lags were waving from tall masts in front of the temple, in honor of Pharaoh's birthday ; and when presently a noise came up from the vpiiey, usually so silent, of shouts, and tumult, and clatter, the driver expressed his oj)inion that the high festival was being kei)t by the prisoners with unwonted jollity, saying so to the other guards who had paused to listen. So they moved forward without delay ; but no man held up his drooping head, for the noon-day sun was so relent- lessly cruel, and the sides of the ravine, dazzling with the glare, poured down such fierce heat, that it seemed as though they were striving to outdo the smelting furnaces. Though so near their journey's end the wanderers tot- tered forward as if in sleep, and one alone held his breath with excitement. As a war horse harnessed to a plough arches his neck, and dilates his nostrils, while the fire sparkles in his eye, so had Joshua drawn up his stoo])ing form in spite of the heavy sack across his shoulders, and his flashing gaze turned to the spot whence the uproar came which the driver supposed to be loud revelry. But he, Joshua, knew better. He could never misiaVe the sounds which he heard. It was the battle-cry of Egypiirn troops, the trumpet call to summons them to arms, the clatter of weapons and shouting of hostile parties. Ready at once for swift action, he addressed his coini-«tdc in chains and whispered his commands : " The hour of release is at hand. Keep your eyes open, but foiiow me blindly." lall be in by ook oiji Icn- i for wc are f" Ra. J.oiig c dry bed of r ihe storm a his gully to crc exhaling I liad made II tlie toj) of r and a con- themselves s'orge w lie re r the tcmi;le, presently a t, of shouts, his ojjjnion isoners with Js who had o man held s so relent- ig with the seemed as g furnaces, derers tot- his breath i a plough le the fire is stooping Jders, and the uproar elry. But lisiaVe tiie f Egyjiirn arms, the s. is comi-rtdc le hour of follow me .7i'-v//r../. Th,. c: . , * ■ Now. I he firsi glance i,uo il„. i,„r •"it'nro Standing on ll,et„ >""'«'''''"' '■^'Waled i„|,„„ framed in whiiel,,,; , 'Z 'l 'r' '"■' ^""' ^' ""I c ,' d distance. !)„, hcUmCdtZ't '"' "■"'" ■' """ li Kre Uer amo,„e,n ,0 glance ^^1,^7,^,';'""''^ ' ''^''-e.! fa,' ' n r gone to ,he rear, when /o i fa tnT" 'V'"' '"''^ '"''''••& Now, down will, Inn/, ..""" ''■'"-Pcred to l,is <»n,j,aLn . ''Vitn these word*; tN*. tj i |.ve was at the hetd of t^^'"^^?.";.;'';"'."'"' '^ f^"o'- cap- Joshua had seized his rilr, . ' ,'''"' "» "'^' driver 3 before he was aware off """""'J "•'•' "'!'- man hi's' S "e s.'=r:SleV':X '^Z^^^ -SP donl.led his strength ' w^uiri!" ^^-^^ '- -"' KO^^r^-clfr "^^ -'-■- -- side of the ravine • but h. ^ "'•■'"■ews on the o,mZ\Z on them, for the sturdy form of7 'T'"" ""' ^a'e o°nm screen them both anA hi ""•' "'a^'-' driver serve W^ dress and weaponk "" Hold":: T^"^ ^-°gni-b c"^^^^ ^ hl-fld^"''!?,'^ '° '"'^ accomt^ici' ">.? -^''^m with one ha^nd," Si.-^^'^^-Ketup'jiirshott/drofrehr^ a-;.shTCh"of «; r ??^ '"^^ ->e within on one side, and then ,vaTkinJ / Y^ '^'"' Prisoner W .selves and the Egynti^„7 Tl^ backwards, between them rng tones : " Thf ^^^f N^'n-s^Tet,""' -'"""""S '" ^r-g- andhisp ,^,„ made his wav L k"'"'"^ '" 'lis father Hebrew fighting „en. *^' '"^P by step, towards the None of the Egyptians who recognized the r , ■ ^^ ugnizea the captain of the Jill ♦ T1% •?> VN /r r / . prison f^;.v^^ h.>\\ y\\\\A to In ih \ 'M\\\ .)\ \hv tnrnpiMl }M1^<M>rrs , W\\\ n.>«, S\\y\\\ ll\r top ol Ihc «.li<pi U lut h \\\r \>,Mnr < ^11««< \\\ loMul .\( » . Ml'., n)i! It tl\i •:\n\f n\onii nl V phv.nn^ ^n^'. I>\ « < (Mupnn d MMUhTul i i»nO>;n;nH'< \ :\\\\r \\\\\\\\ «K>VM\ ihf lull \^' \\\\\\ \\\\\\ foot soM\<M. ,t suoiil. <M y 'vMtli ,i\i H\\( n\uM '.nil wtMr .A) t!\«\» i;\«AiK •• i^<' h«M«l .n>.)n '. •linii ,m\iI I»i|', .1 |'iM>|("j phi Un^ >N »'^ »)^« \l 1< lili I . mil Hi (iMi III |Mitl»(l III! i<', h\- v.\M|,vvl 1 i< lUi II III n\(> iinl liKi .1 ilonMr w.ill \i«( till ll\i n \ \\\\\ hy\\\\x\\ ]\^'^]\\\.\ A\\\\ Hu' iD' IU\ •> nihil tlivl 111 j,i\ r wiu I tr« I' iiMhi ii \ 1-1 ii\i.ini|', , .mil .nii ilu i \i\.\\\ r,;irniM; loUoW.il hi. Lm I'hl \>in w.i-. '.ilrlv ImI Io tlv \\ .1 v>l 1 U'' 1 I .>\ > I ^l ihi 1 II pr 1 hill *hi»l«i'> ^^ h.i« h >li> '-' .' li.'>l < 1 ■' «^ii 'liiMi' . ,mil (hi n, iiiiili i <>]w]\< M .M ino ;l1, Mionu h.">«l'> (ll< <1 « (1 '111 li Id 1'. \> liii li b»">in><l loshin .mil his >imui.iiU'. whiK rplnnm. lulitl b\ ,1 tV>v oilnMs. boim\l thf »luvii i iptixr llir imliMhi n.Hx' otTi»» I h.\vl i;iN»'n up ill n m^iimi r .niil \r\ \h. ni iln \vh.\l (lUX NN.MlM. p.\'M\t h <«'s\mUll lUt.Mi ill! \ III il his h;\iuiv bilun*! his l>,d k . h»" oiih l^i >i|;t il i-^ l^i illiWiil lo NVipv' Ills r> rs, i\\\ »hr ir.ivs U « 10 I oiu •<>n|', i u h imIii \ dow n tbt' stvn) i>i,\ti"'> tlu'iVs ,m«l •■'U iv> h,is |',i'.\ 1m ,in1 . 1i us ol >A-\.\non .w ir.ulmji Imns* It oiiiwiHiil .iiul o\ i ipowt n-il, .•\ii\i un,\Mx^ d> \\\\U\\ h\s \\\\\\ . Vhc \^]\\ Hv 1m'o>\ »lAspr»l his it»li-rmiil ;\nil onl\ son In his hv\u(>Mih p.\sMon,\iv' .illVi uou ihi-n. ii h .\sm}i Imn from his onilMart\ hv~ supprd l\u K a irw p.w < >>. .im\ wouM ni \vv h.-wtMwi vl » 1" tvwsnnu lus »\ ^^l \ )os!ni,i. ;m(l ol homing \h.\t. t.ntht'ul t*> his vl.^l, ho wonUl hnuiloilh v\"\ oto h;msolt to tho so\n \«v »M lus ]H^>plo. l^it u Nx.^s not tor lonj; th.u tlu-\ nnrjit allow thomsclvos to ivwl m thv^ iv^ vM this h.\pp\ nu'otiii|, . \\w h.mlo \\;ts still to W \von. nr.d Nun. .is .i mutii vM lOiuso, tt;\t\stini'il his oonv.n.invi tv'* loshiin. \\ uh ;!\u"iV.tr.l glulnoss. .\nvl \ot not wiihont ;» p.iii); of r<.\crot. Joshu.i ho.iui vM" tho onJ whioh li;ul ovovt.ilvon iho f no .'^vmv .-^niving wlioso oaptains ho h.id loii}; Ihhmi punul ».• rooVv^n hnnsolf; anvl ho lojouwl tv^ K.irn that anothoi o-^nv.w.n- of avniod shophouls h;ul i;\m\o uiulov tho UMtlci ship ot' Hur. Miriam's husband, tv> surprise the tvuApioiso 1l" \ Ih :\u\ \)\<\ ■wwr inonum I' H.inl-. I Mtnr nw '.nil u.Mi' I' t 1 piMOt'i. :\ ilonMr \\i\\\ N'<>| till ih.-n »M(| .nil il\i » ' lit l\ li il to I'.'' I : \ pii.in I (Im n, nihlt ) II lit )•, u hu \\ In. lint, iiiili il I hi nwliMln I III till n\ ill) il\> \ III il his ^1 .llIoWi (I lo \ t^|l1^ I lion n nil. Il ,ns ol ^1 t|M>\vrli'«l, I iMilv '>on li> ill .(Mn|; liun s. i\iu\ >\ oiiKI sh\i;i, ami ol I l\nhif(>!il) iV tlu Mwsclvos . liiinsri-nvil nt A p;in); of HMt.\lvon tiu" luVM pIOlul ih;\l ;n\olliri r ll\o lo.uin 10 tvirquoiso y^'^^/f I »"<•♦•••' M hn|>|,|,„ ,„ ., »•• "" • : i„ ".; : • I :;'"i'' Mn:,i\:;i,,''; •'"•1;.. I.' ,,..'■,;:;;, :, "'"■":i , ,"■ '■"■' II liM /,.,,! III (l„.J, '•I '.ll( '"'•'l.ll».,f '"'•'» "III.. If,;, .''•'•"'"•"•'"•' " .1,1, ;,.;."; M--u:.i., „,,,'.'":''."" "•"■ »< (III \ t"il (I ft U III. I, " "III Si i|||,, , ,1 I'I. I 1 .::::,:;:;,:■■;:;;,!, ;-•'■•-::::;;;:;■;,:;,;;,'::;-: •■> ;:::;;:;;-: -■■■■!:'.V;;;::)::::;;;:;;:-;^^^ '-" '■-'•^'''•'iHir:;;;;:;"'''"-H::;;;;'':n ^"" '"■"■■■■ :/;,'■ -r'^ '''■•'Mm. ,.,,,, .',:'''■•■' (Mm I ;"' •"! ni|i( Ml, •'IMS, Il ,., ,,„, , "I (III' I,,. ■'*"l""ic i,„|,„, "•'"'■'' '"'.lis 11, (Ih' ;'■"''!'• ""■/'"M<. "■. !!"■ 1,1,,/, ;;;:i.,-'-i^:::::;;;;;'''v/:'-''-^'^^.z;'.i;:r •^iplil (i ',",''"'. ••'"i.lrini,,.,! "(■ Il >\r I ' ' ' ' •^^'VimmI w II I "'<"'iHM- li.ul I "."."•• ■■•i(;ir|„,| ""I lo ff "'^'' ^V'lio i,:^,l I'' ( ,. Wit' ""i.f„rr>\ ,,y,,f^ l'\" t im;(ms, I of f o 'L'cn .slraiiglrd '" "11. ianu /'/'r'^y^ "-^ 'y "/ i/k. f, ' ' '-'I'-UMiy ins ,„,^t^,^, '/(/Nvc /'. if fr VCf/ i ; ! 2T2 JOSHUA. irighting-man who could be spared from the mines was tc return forthwith to Tanis, as there was need of men foi the newly-constituted legions. These tidings produced a great effect ; for, after Joshua had communicated to the Egyptian captain the fact that he, too, kufMvof the destruction of the Egyptian host, and expected fresh reinforcements in a few hours, who had, meanwhile, been sent to reduce Dophka, the Egyptian surrendered to his imperious tone, and only sought favor- able terms and leave to dci)art. He knew only too well how weak was the forces in charge of the turquoise mines, and he could look for no succor from head-quarters. Besides this, the person of the envoy captivated his con- fidence, so, after many excuses and threats, he confessed himself satisfied with Joshua's permission to withdraw the garrison unharmed, with their beasts of burthen and pro- visions for the journey. This, to be sure, was not to be granted till they had laid down their arms and shown the Hebrews every entrance to the mines where prisoners were working. The young Hebrews proceeded forthwith to disarm the Egyptians, who were more than twice their number, and many a veteran's eye was moist, while many an one broke his spear or nicked his arrows, cursing and swearing the while ; and some of the older men who had formerly served under Joshua, and now recognized him, raised their fists and railed at him for a traitor. It was always the refuse of the troops which was sent on service in this wilderness \ most of the men were stamped with traces of evil living, and their faces were hard and cruel. On the banks of the Nile, those were carefully chosen who made ruthless brutality to the helpless their duty. At last the mines were opened, and Joshua himself seized the miner's lamp and made his way into the sweltering galleries where the state prisoners, naked and loaded with fetters, were hewing out the copper ore. From a distance he could hear the swallow-tailed picks hacking at the hard rock. Then the miserable wailing of men and women in torment fell on his ear, for barbarous drivers pursued them into these depths and goaded the idlers to bestir themselves. This morning, as being Pharaoh's birthday, they had aU mines was to d of men for , after Joshua the fact that :ian host, and irs, who had, :he Egyptian sought favor- only too well liioise mines, ead-quarters. 'ated his con- he confessed to withdraw then and pro- as not to be d shown the ;re prisoners h to disarm heir number, many an one md swearing liad formerly I, raised their I was sent on '^ere stamped re hard and -re carefully helpless their imself seized e sweltering loaded with n a distance ; at the hard id women in ers pursued ers to bestir they had aU l>een driven tn fj ^'3 them to return nn ' ^"'^'"'^ "^'^'-^ecr which h '''' '^'^ ""' consisted oi Iv in "^^^'"^^ ^Imwh i , . "^ '"^^^^^n used in the nn. r''?'^""fi^ ^^'^ sin n'.MhV"''' ^'^^ir tasks tations were he ?/'^'"" ^''^'^^-ind iheTr ^^ ''' '^'™^''^t soon reached he fi ?"/'' '''^''- ^t^^l f"'' ^'^"^^■''- soon repeated to th?«r, ,i ^'^^ ^^ ^heir nvetch '^'''^'' shouts of joy fiHeH H '^^'^'^ ^^i>ths of th • in ^"^' '^'''^ tears ; bu Toud . • ''^^^'^^^''•'^s Jon^ u ed ?''"'• ^^''^^ death-rattle also fT ^''' help, gallinT '"-'^^'"^^ '-^"^ victim had tuned " 7 ^^^hua's^ea? '^; l';^^"'"^ ^-^nd a ^'th a blow ofif- ^'- ^'^ d^i^'er of hiW^n """^ j^^^-hcadcd of the otheTs ,n^ ^f^' His exam 'efref f)"^ ^'"^^ ^^^'"^ 'lard-heartcd S f^'"' ''si'ind them A ,, '"; '''^«<='- frora^he- .,X 'aI;"'^'';.''^' ■•" ".e broad" K^ '"'*■ ""'^ former timf, eni^ 7 °^ "'««'> hapless ™f'"'' '''"'>>= home.,, OM-„ the^tf '^. ''^^■■■y ^"'hly* s^n/'^l '?'^d, i„ and mithe s • h,}'"8>. i''^'ace ; had been 1" "'""• o'"" had had their' ™« -"J"'?"' '" 'heir po ™ °""fi f^'hers the caverns to'th, flashed with a hy the sudden ch OWIj wild glare of tji and e mi ;i"ge from tJi ^:^^^y sun, t/ tears e "J{,^ht of Jn ilieir first ?), il'.-l «'-dy glean, iike^h;™'oS;'^ cr;:?' »g ^"sternation at the 214 JOSHUA. ama.^ing change in their fortunes they tremulously struggled for composure, and suffered the Hebrews, at Joshua's bidding, to file off the fetters from their ankles ; but they soon caught sight of the disarmed soldiers and overseers, who were ranged under a wall of rock under the eye of Ephraim and his followers, and a strange impulse came over ihcm. With a yell and a shriek for which there is no name, and which no words could describe, they tore them- selves away from the men who were trying to remove their chains, and without a word or a sign of mutual agreement,, rushed with a common instinct, heedless of their metal bonds, on the helpless wretches. Before the Hebrews could stay them each fell on the one who had treated him most cruelly ; and here a famished creature gripped the foe who had been his master by the throat, while there a herd of women, stripped of all clothing and horribly disfigured by want and neglect, flew at the man who had most brutally insulted, beaten and injured them, and wreaked their long- repressed fury with tooth and nail. It was as though a sudden flood of hatred had broken down the dam and was ravening uncherked for its prey. There was a frantic attack and defense, a fearful and bloody struggle on the shifting red sandy soil, an ear- splitting chorus of shrieks, wailing and yells ; indeed it was hard to distinguish anything in the revolting medley of men and women, which became more and more inex- tricably tangled .. it was aggravated on one side by the wildest passions and a desire for revenge which was sheer blood-thirstiness, and on the other by the dread of death and strenuous instinct of self-defense. Only a few of the prisoners had held back, and even they shrieked encouragement to the rest, reviled the enemy with excited vehemence, and shook their fists. The rage with which the released victims now fell on t'r^eir tormentors was as unmeasured as the cruelty under which they had suffered. But it was Joshua who had disarmed the tyrants ; they were therefore under his protection. He ordered his men to separate the combatants, and if possible without blood- shed ; this was no easy matter, and many a fresh deed of horror was inevitable. At last it was done, and now it could be seen how strangely passion had lent strength to the most exhausted and wretched, for, though no weapons JOSHUA, 215 struggled Joshua's , but they overseers, the eye of lulse came there is no tore them- move their agreement, heir metal J Hebrews rcated him ped the foe •e a herd of sfigured by ost brutally 1 their long- is though a am and was fearful and loil, an ear- indeed it jting medley more inex- side by the jh was sheer |ad of death , and even the enemy The rage 1 tormentors |h they had rants ; they red his men iiout blood- [esh deed of 1 and now it [strength to lio weapons had been used in the struggle, not a few corpses lay on the arena, and most of the guards and overseers were Ijleeding from ugly wounds. When peace once more reigned, Joshua demanded of the captain of the little garrison a list of the prisoners in the mines ; but he himself was wounded, and pointed to the clerk of the works who had not been laid liands on. He who had been their leech in case of need, and had always treated them kindly, was a man of some age who liad known sorrow himself, and knowing what suffering means had always been ready to alleviate it in others. Ho very willingly read out the names of the captives, among whom were several Hebrews, and after cacli had answered to the call, most of them expressed themselves ^"^ady to go with the departing tribes. When at length the disarmed soldiers and guards set forth on their homeward way, the driver who had brought Joshua and his fellow-prisoners to the mines went uj) to old Nun and his son with a crestfallen air, and begged to be allowed to remain with them ; for no good could be in store for him at home, and in all Egypt there was no god so mighty as their God. He had not failed to observe that Joshua, who had himself once been the captain of thousands, had ever in the greatest straits uplifted his hands to that God, and such fortitude as the Hebrew had shown he had never before seen. Now, indeed, he saw ar.d knew that that mighty God had overwhelmed Pharaoh and his host in the sea in order to save Plis people. Such a God v/as after his own heart, and he desired nothing better henceforth than to abide with those who served Him. Joshua gladly consented to his joining himself to them, and »t was found that there were nftcen Hebrew prisoners, among them, to Ephraim's great joy, Reuben, the husband of Miriam's devoted and heart-broken ally, Milcah. His reserved and taciturn manner had stood him in good stead, and the hardships he had endured seemed to have had little effect on his strong frame. A triumphant sense of victory and the joy of success had come over Ephraim and his youthful army ; but when the sun had set, and no sign yet appeared of Hur and his followers. Nun began to feel some alarm. Ephraim had just declared his intention of sallying forth witli some of his comrades in search of tidings, when a rr-^r n; er arrived : :i ,il. 2l6 yospniA. announcing that Hur's fighting-men had lost courage on beholding the efficient defense of the Egyptian stronghold. Their leader had vainly urged them to storm it ; they had shrunk from the venture, and if Nun could not go to their support they must retire ingloriously. It was at once determined to succor the timorous troop. The Hebrews set forth in high spirits, and on their march through tlie refreshing night Ephraim and Nun related to Joshua how Kasana had beer, found and had died. All she liad desired them to tell the man she loved they now made known to liim, and it was with deep emotion that the soldier heard it all, marching on in silent thought till they reached Dojjhka, the valley of the turquoise mines, in the midst of wliich towered the fortress, surrounded by the huts of the captive miners. Hur and his men remained in ambush in an adjoining valley, and when Joshua had told off all the Hebrew force into several divisions, assigning a task to each, at day- break he gave the signal for the onslaught. The little garrison was overpowered after a short struggle, .:nd the fortress seized. The Egyptians were disarmed, as those at the copper mines had been, and sent homewards. The prisoners were released, and the lepers, whose encamp- ment was in another valley beyond the mines — and among them those wiio liad been sent hither by Joshua's desire — were permitted to follow the conquerors at a fixed distance. Joshua had succeeded where Hur had failed, and before the younger men departed with Ephraim, thjir leader, old Nun called them together, and with them returned thanks to the Lord. Those likewise who were under Hur's command joined in the thanksgiving, and when Joshua presently appeared P^phraiui and his comrade hailed him with loud acclamations. " Hail t) our captain ! " was shouted again and again as they went on their further way. " Hail to him whom the I^ord hath chosen to be His sword ! Him will we follow and obey ; tlirough him our God shall give us the victory 1 " Hur's followers also joined in the cry, nor did he forbid them ; nay, he had thanked Joshua for storming the stronghold, and expressed his gladness at seeing him free once more. When they set forth, Joshua, as the younger, drew back to let the elder man take the lead ; but Hur had begged JOSHUA. 217 age on ighold. ey had o Iheir 5 troop. • march lated to ;d. All ley now that the till they s, in the i by the idjoining e\v force , at day- rhe little , jnd the as those :ds. The encamp- |id among desire — distance. nd before iader, old thanks to ommand presently with loud again as tvhom the [ollow and Vory I " , I be forbid .ling the him free Irew back Id begged Nun, who was much older than himself, to march at the head of the little host, although, after the escape of the people on the shore of the Red Sea, he had been named the chief captain of the Hebrew fighting-men by Moses and the ciders of the tribes. Their way led them first through a level valley. Then they mounted and crossed a pass over the ridge, this being the only road by which there was any communication between the mines and the Red Sea. The rocky scene was wild and desolate, the path steep and hard to climb. Joshua's aged father, who had spent his life in the plains of Goshen and was unaccustomed to «*Tiountain-walking, was carried by his son and grandson amid much glad shouting from the others ; and Miriam's husband, who led his men in the rear of Ephraim's troop of comrades, as he heard their joy- ful cry climbed after them with a bowed head and eyes fixed gloomily on the ground. At the top they were to rest, waiting for the main body of the Israelites who were to be led through the desert of Sin towards Dophka. From the top of the pass the victorious troop looked out fjr the wandering tribes, but as yet nothing could be seen of them. But as they gazed back on the mountain path by which they had come, the scene was so grand and beautiful that it attracted every eye. At their feet lay a cauldron- shaped valley enclosed by high precipices, ravines, peaks and pinnacles, here white like chalk, there raven-black, grey and brown, red and green, growing as it were from the sandy base and pointing to the deep-blue heaven, the vault of dazzling light that bent over the desert unflecked by a cloud. All was barren, desolate, silent, dead. Not a blade, not the humblest growth clung to the sides of the many- colored cliffs which shut in the sandy abyss. No bird, no worm nor beetle even stirred in this still region hostile to life. The eye could nowhere see anything to suggest human existence, or the tilth and handiwork of man. God, It seemed, had created this grand scene, unfit for any earthly being, for Himself alone. The man who made his way into these wilds trod a spot which the Most High might have chosen for retreat and rest, like the silent and unapproachable inner sanctuary of ihe temple. The younger men had gazed speechless on the wondrous !.;.:!■ y«l{ \m 3l8 yosiiuA. picture at their feet. Then they lay down on the groundr or did their best to be serviceable to old Nun, who loved the companionship of the young. He was soon reclining in their midst under a hastily contrived awning, and relating with sparkling eyes his son's achievements as captain of the Egyptians. Joshua and Hiir, meanwhile, were standing together on the highest pcint of the pass and gazing down into the desolate valley of rocks, which, surrounded by columns and pillars of God's own hewing, and vaulted over by the blue dome of heaven, appeared to each as the most stupendous of temples. The elder kept his eyes fixed gloomily on the ground ; but suddenly he f^rokc the silence, saying : *' It was at Succoth that I built an heap and cried upon the Lord to be witness between us two. But in this place, and in this stillness, it seems to me tliat we are certain of His Presence without sii^n or token." He raised his face to Heaven and went on : " And I lift up mine eyes to Thee, Adonai j I send up my humble words to tliee, O Jehovah, Thou God of Abraham and our fathers, that Thou maycst ar^ain be witness between me and this man whom Thou caliedst to be Thy servant and the sword in Thy right hand ! '"' He spoke the words loudly, with eyes and hands up- raised to Heaven. Then he turned to his companion and said with solemn gravity : " And I ask thee, Joshua, son of Nun, dost thou remember the witness borne by thee and mc by the stone at Su'jcoth?" " I do remember it," was the answer. "And in bitter ill-fortune and great dangers I have learnt what the ivlost Higli requires of me. I am ready to devote such strength of soul and body as He hath vouchsafed to me to Ilim alone, and to His people, which is my people. Joshua, henceforth, be my name. I ask no furtlier help, neither from the Egyptians nor from any other strange folk, for il was the Lord our God who gave me this name by the mouth of thy wife." Hereupon Hur broke in with earnest words : ** This ''s what I looked to hear ; and inasmuch as in this place also the Most High is a witness between me and thee, and heareth our present speech together here, lo, I fulfill that which I have vowed. The elders of the tribes, and. JOSHUA, 219 roundr ) loved dining g, and :nts as ther on nto the ;olumns • by the e most around ; . was at Lord to d in this Presence Lven and lonai ; I bou God again be iliedst to ands up- nion and )st thou ;he Btone lin bitter the Most strength to Ilim Joshua, , neither ilk, for it by the is in this ind thee, I fulfill Ibes, and Moses, the servant of the Lord, called nic to be chief captain over the fighting-men of Israel. But now thou art Joshua, and hast sworn to serve none; other but the Lord our God. Likewise I know that, as the captain of our host, thou canst do greater things than I, who have grown grey tending herds, or than any other Hebrew, be he who he may ; therefore do I perform my vow made at Suc- coth. I will require of Moses, the servant of the Lord, and of the elders of the peoffle, that they give thee the office of captain of the host. I leave the governance in thy hands ; and inasmuch as I know that the T^ord readcth the heart, T hereby confess that I had evil thoughts of thee in mine. But for the good of the people I will forget all strife between us, and I give thee my right hand in token thereof ! " He held out his hand as he spoke, and Joshua grasped it, re- plying with generous frankness : " These are the words of a man, and so likewise shall mine be. For the people's sake, and the cause we both serve, I accept the offered sacrifice. And inasmuch as you solemnly called the Lord to witness, who likewise heareth me, I will speak the truth in everything. The ofiice of captain of the host of Israel which you will lay upon me, I was called to by the Lord Himself The call came to me by the mouth of Miriam, your wife, and mine it is by right. Yet, that you should be willing to yield your own dignity to me, I take as a noble deed ; for I know full well how hard it is for a man to resign power, more especially in favor of a younger man who is not dear to his heart. This you have done, and I thank you. And I, too, have had evil thoughts of you, for through you I lost an- other blessing M-hich a man finds it harder to give up than his office — the love of a woman." Hereupon the blood mounted to Hur's face, and he exclaimed : " Miriam ! I never forced her to marry me. Nay, without my paying for her even, after the manner of our fathers, she became my wife of her own free will." " I know it," replied Joshua calmly. " Still, another than you had loved and wooed her longer and more fer- vently, and the fires of jealousy burn fiercely. But have no fears. If you were now to get a bill of divorce and bring her to me, that I should open my arms and tent to her, I should say : * Vv herefor, have you done this thing to yourself and to me ? ' For I have just now learnt what the ! -A. ' i 5!i 220 JOSHUA. ^^MmWB^^B 1 III lovo of a woman is and can do, and I was mistaken when 1 believed tliat she h)ved me as hotly as I loved her. Yes, and in the course of my wanderings, with fetters on my feet, in grief and misery, I vowed to myself that I would devote all that is in me of the fire and force of love to no single creature, but all to my pcojjle. Not even the love of woman shall ever turn me away from the great duty I have taken upon mo. And as for your wife, I am as a stranger to her, unless it be that she sends for me, as a l)ro])hetess, to declare to me some new purpose of the Lord." And he, on his part, held out his hand, and as Hur took it, a noise came up from the troop below, calling on the head of the house of Judali and their newly-chosen captain, for messengers were climbing the mountain-slope, waving and pointing to the mighty clouds of dust which swept in front of the coming multitude. CHAPTER XXV. The wanderers came nearer and neare.-, and several of the young fighting-men hastened forward to meet them. They were no longer the jubilant host who had joined trium- phantly in Miriam's hymn of praise; no, they came slowly, mournfully and deviously towards the mountain's foot. They had to climb the pass from the steepest side ; and how the bearers groaned, and the women and children wailed ; how bitterly the drivers cursed as they urged the beasts up the narrow, precipitous path, and how hoarse were the voices of the men, parched with thirst, as they set their shoulders to a cart to help the brutes that pulled it ! These hordes, who, but a few days since, had so thank- fully hailed the saving mercy of the Lord, looked, to Joshua's eyes, like a beaten army. The way by which they had traveled from their last resting-j^lace, the camp by the Red Sea, had been rough and waterless ; and to a people who had grown up in the fertile plain of Lower Egypt, it had been severe indeed and full of horrors. It had led them into the heart of the barren highlands ; and at every step their eyes, wont to gaze on wide and luxuriantly green pastures, had fallen on narrow gorges and a naked yosnuA. 221 n when . Yes, on my [ would c to no he love t duty I im as a ne, as a of the Air took ; on the captain, waving swept in al of the ti. They d trium- z slowly, n's foot, de ; and children ged the hoarse they set ulled it ! thank- ked, to ich they p by the people gypt. it lad led lat every luriantly a naked wilderness. Aflcr passing the entrance to tin- liaba valley, as they made ihoir way along il tin-oiigli llic desert of Sin, they had seen nothing hut ravines hemmed in l»y clilTs. A high mountain of the hue of death towered in awful blackness above the rust-brown crags close at hand, and the rocks had seemed to the wanderers hke monslious piles raised by human hands ; the layers of square blocks built up at e([ual disiances slood open to the sky, and it might have been fancied that the giant workmen, wIhjsc hands had aided the Architect of the world, had been dismissed before finishing their task, which in tliis solitude need fear no i)rying eye, and which seemed not intended to be the dwelling of any living creature. Walls of granite^ brown and grey, rose on each side of the path; and in the sand which covered it lay heaps of fragments of red por- phyry and coal-black stones, looking as if they had been broken by the hammer, or like clii[>s of slag cast out from the smelling furnace. Slrangely-shajicd masses of gleam- ing green rock enclosed the small cauldron-shaped valleys of the higher ground, which oi)cncd endlessly one out of another. The mounting path cut them across, and many a time, as the pilgrims entered one of these circular gorges, the fear came upon them that the cliff beyond would com- pel them to return. Their complaints and murmurs had been heard, but presently the gap had come in sight through which they reached another rocky amphitheatre. On first quitting the encampment by the Red Sea they had frequently passed clumps of acacia, and i)atches of a fragrant desert-herb which the beasts had eaten with relish ; but the further they went into the stony wilderness the drier and hotter was the sandy soil, and at last the eye vainly sought a tree or a green thing. At Elim they had found sweet wells and the shade of palms, and at the encampment by the Red Sea there had been well-filled tanks, but in the desert of Sin they had found no waters to quench their thirst withal, and by mid- day it seemed as though malicious demons had cut off all shade from the walls of rock, for in these cauldrons and bowls of stone everything was scorching glare, and there was no shelter anywhere from the burning sun. The last of the water they had brought with them had been distributed to man and beast at their last halting place, and when the host set forth again in the morning, not a drop could be ;Jll*^ 222 JOSHUA. found to assuage their raging thirst. Then the old un- believing spirit of discontent and rebellion had again come over the Israelites. There was no end to the curses on Moses and the elders who had brought them out of the well-watered land of Egypt to such torment as this. How- ever, when at last they had climbed the pass over the ridge, their parched throats were too dry for any loud utterance of complaint and cursing. Old Nun's messcnf'crs, and the youths sent to meet them by Ej»hrami and llur,liad already announced to them that the smaller party had \von a victory and set Joshua and the rest of the jjrisoners free ; but their exhaustion was so complete that even these glad tidings had affected them but little, and brought no more than a faint smile to the men's bearded lips, or a transient gleam of extinct brightness to the women's dark eyes. Miriam even, with Milcah, had remained with her tribe, and had not, as was her wont, called the women together .o return thanks to the Almighty. Reuben, the husband of her melancholy young compan- ion, whose dread of disappointment would not even now allow her to indulge in her new-born hope, was a silent, uncommunicative man, and the first messenger did not know for certain whether he were among the prisoners who had been rescued. Milcah, nevertheless, became greatly excited, and when Miriam desired her to have patience and be still, she ran from one to another of her companions and besieged them with questions. And since they could give her no information as to the fate of him she loved and had lost, she broke into loud sobs and fled back to the pro- phetess. From her, indeed, she got small comfort, for Miriam, looking forward to hailing her husband as con- queror, and receiving the friend of her childhood rescued and safe, had fallen into a brooding and anxious mood ; it seemed as though some heavy burthen weighed on her soul. As soon as he learnt that the attack on the mines had proved successful and that Joshua was free, Moses had quitted the host of the Hebrews. He had been told that the Amalekites, a warlike race iniiabitmg the oasis at the foot of Mount Sinai, were making ready to hinder the advance of the exiles aero.-,.-) tlieir palmy and fertile island in the desert. He had therefore set out with a handful of picked men, to make his way across the range and recon- yosiiUA, 11% 3ld un- ncome rscs on of the Ilow- e ridge, terance to meet to them t Joshua haustion affected smile to r extinct ,'en, with t, as was hanks to compan- ."vcn novr 3 a silent, r did not )ncis who le greatly ience and nionsand ould give d and had ) the pro- nfort, for d as con- d rescued mood ; it her soul, nines had oses had told that ,sis at the [indcr the ilc island andful of nd recon- noitre the enemy, purposing to rejoin the Israelites hetween Alush and Rephidim, which lay in the valley next before the oasis. Abiaah, the chief of the tribe of Benjamin, with Hur and Nun, on their return from the mines, as the heads of the tribes of Judah and Ephraim, were to fill his place and that of hi= companions. Now, as the multitude came nearer to the pass they must climb, Hur and some of the freed men went forward to meet them ; one, especially, outstriiiping the rest, Reu- ben, namely, Milcah's husband. And she on her i)art had recognized him from afar, as she sped down the hillside, and, in spite of Miriam's remonstrance, hurried forward as far as to the midst of the tribe of Simeon, which marched ahead of their own. And there, the sight of their meeting had uplifted many a dejected soul ; and when at length, clinging closely together, they hastened back to Miriam, as the prophetess gazed into her little friend's face she thought a miracle had been wrought, for the pale lily had been transformed to a blooming and glowing rose. And her lips, which for so long she had scarcely ever opened but for some request or brief reply, now were never still, for how much she wanted to know, how much she had to ask her taciturn husband, who had suffered such terrible things ! They were a comely and joyful couple, and to them their path lay not over bare rocks and parched desert-tracks, but through a land of spring-flowers where brooks murmured and birds sang. And Miriam, who had done her utmost to cheer the pining girl, rejoiced at the sight of their happiness. Soon, however, every gleam of glad sympathy faded from her face ; for while Reuben and Milcah walked on winged feet, scarce seeming to tread the soil of the desert, she marched on with bowed head weighed down by the thought that she herself was alone to blame if no such happiness as theirs was in prospect for her at this hour. She told herself indeed that she had made a great sacrifice, pleasing in the eyes of the Lord and worthy of great reward, in refusing to hearken to the voice of her heart ; but nevertheless she could not help remembering the Egyptian woman who had forbidden her to account herself as one of those who truly loved Joshua, and who herself had died so young for her love's sake. 224 yosiiUA. She, Miriam, was alive ; she had killed the most ardent desires of her hrart; duty forbade her now to think with ardent longing of the man who lingered on the mountain- top, devoted wholly to the cause of his pcojjle and to the God of his fatheis, a free and noble soul, the future leader pcrha])s of \\cx nation's armies, and, if Moses would have it so, the first and most inilucntial among the Hebrews next to himself — but lost, forever lost, to her. Tf only on lliat fateful night she had followed the leading of hci woman's heart and not that imperious e.ill which jjlaced her above all other women, he would long since have clasped her in his arms as Reuben held his poor, weak Milcah, now so rich in joy and renewed strength. What thoughts were these ! She must drive them down to the deepest recesses of her heart and destroy them utterly ; for her it was sin to long so passionately to .':-ce him again, and she wished that her husband were by her side to protect her against herself and the forbidden emotions of this dreadful hour. Hur, the prince of the tribe of Judah, was her husband ; not the Egyj)lian captain, the rescued captive. What could she henceforth have to do with this son of Ephraim whom she had cast off once for all ? Why should she now be aggrieved that he did not hasten to meet her \ why should she cherish in secret a foolish hope that it was some important duty which withheld him on the mountain? She scarcely saw or heard what was going on around her, and it was Milcah's cry of glad gratitude which warned her of Hur's approach. He had waved her a greeting from afar ; but he was alone, without Joshua ; and the fact that this was a pang to her — nay, that it went tO' her heart — enraged her against herself. She held her elderly husband in true esteem, and it was with no effort that she welcomed him vvith affection. He replied to her greeting with heartfelt warmth \ and when she pointed to the reunited pair and lauded him as a conqueror and the deliverer of Reuben and his many fellow-victims, he frankly confessed that the praise was not to him but to Joshua, whom she herself had called in the name of the Lord to be the captain of the army of Israel. At this she turned pale, and, though the path led steeply upward, she pressed her husband with urgent questions. When she learnt that Joshua was resting on the ridge with I ardent nk with )untain- d to the L- leader Id have Icbrews only on of hei \ l)laccd ICC have or, weak ;m down oy them ly to ^te c by her arbidden :e of the Kgyplian ;nccforth had cast ved that horish in nt duty around ie which id her a |ua ; and went ta eld her 10 effort to her linted to and the ;ims, he but to |e of the steeply ^estions. ige with yosiiVA. "5 his father and the young fighting-mcn, and drinking wine, and that llur had pledged himself to withdraw if Mosos should api)oint Joshua to be captain of the host, her knit brows darkened below her lofty brow, and with stern severity she replied : "You are my lord, and it ill-bcscems me to resist your will, even when you so Hir forget what is due to your wife as to give way to the man who once dared to lift his eyes to her." II ur eagerly broke in : ** r»ut henceforth you are as a stranger to him ; and even if I should give you a bill of divorce he would no longer woo you." " Indeed ! " said she with a forced smile. " And is it to him that you owe this announcement ? " *' He has devoted himself body and soul to the welfare of the people and renounces the love of woman," rei)lied Hur. But she exclaimed : *' Renunciation is easy when de- sire could bring nothing in its train but rejection an 1 disgrace. It is not he, who in our day of greatest need sought help of the Egyptians — not he but you who ought to be captain over the fighting-men of Israel — you alone who led the Hebrews to their first victory at the store- house of Succoth, and whom the Lord Himself by His servant Moses charged to lead the fighting-men of Israel ! " At this Hur looked in some uneasiness at this woman for whom a late but ardent love had glowed up in him, and seeing her bosom heave and her cheeks flush red, he knew not whether to ascribe it to the fatigue of climbing or the lofty ambition of her asjiiring soul, which she had now transferred to the person of her husband. He was, indeed, glad to think that she cared so much more for him than for the younger and more heroic man whose return caused him some anxiety ; still, he had grown grey in the stern fulfillment of duty, and what he thought it right to do no man could hinder his doing. To the wife of his youth, whom he had buried many years since, his merest sign had been a command^ and from Miriam he had as yet met witli no contradiction. That Joshua was the most fit to command tlie fighting-men was beyond a doubt, and he replied, panting somewhat, for he, too, found the ascent hard : " Your high esteem honors 15 226 JOSHUA, .I- and pleases me ; but although Moses and the elders have promoted me, you must remember the Heap at Succoth, and my vow. I bear it in mind and shall abide by it." She looked aside and said no more till they had reached the top. The victorious youths hailed them from the summit with loud acclamations. The joy of meeting, the pro- visions they had won from the foe, and the good drink which was sparingly measured out to revive those who most needed it, raised the fallen courage of the exhausted wanderers, and the thirsty multitude shortened their rest on the ridge to reach Dophka all the sooner. They had heard from Joshua that they would find tliere not only some ruined tanks but also a hidden spring of whose exist- ence he had been informed by the driver of the gang of prisoners. Their way now lay down hill. Haste is the watchword when thirsty souls know that wells arc within reach ; and soon after sunset they arrived in the valley of turquoise mines, where they encamped 2^ the foot of the hill on which the now ruined stronghold and store-houses of Dophka had lately stood. The well, hidden in a grove of acacia sacred to Hathor, was very soon discovered. Fires v/ere quickly lighted. The wavering hearts, which in the desert of Sin had sunk almost to despair, now swelled again with the love of life, with hope and thankful trust. The fine acacia trees indeed were felled to open a way to the spring whose refreshing waters worked the wondrous change. Joshua and Miriam had met on the ridge, but had only had time for a brief greeting. Here, in the camp, they were thrown together once more. It was already late, for the elders had held long counsel as to the measures to be taken for an unexpected attack on the Amalekites. Nun and Joshua had joined the assembly. The princely and reverend old man's son had been gladly welcomed, and his counsel, that they should for^ a vanguard of the younger men and a reserve of the older warriors, was readily agreed to ; they were also to send small parties of picked men to spy out the enemy. Joshua found himself in fact entrusted with everything appertaining to the conduct and safety of a considerable army. God Himself had chosen him to be their captain, ;rs have succoth, y it." reached summit the pro- ■)d drink ose who xhausted [heir rest rhey had not only ose exist- e gang of atchword ach ; and turquoise he hill on bouses of a grove of ed. Fires ch in the w swelled kful trust. 1 a way to wondrous had only imp, they ig counsel ted attack ined the s son had ley should rve of the Ire also to le enemy, everything iderable ir captain, JOSHUA. 227 and Moses, by leaving him that warning word to be ^* steadfast and strong," had confirmed him in the office. Hur, likewise, who as yet held the i^ost, was ready to resign it to him ; and of a surety that man would keep his word, although he had not yet declared his purpose before the elders. At any rate Joshua was treated as though he were indeed the captain, and he felt himself their leader. After the assembly of the elders had broken up, Hur had desired Joshua to accompany him to his tent, notwith- standing the lateness of the hour ; and the warrior had consented, for indeed he desired to speak fully to Miriam. He would fain prove to her in her husband's presence that he had found the path which sht had so zealously pointed out to him. The tenderest passions of a Hebrew must be dumb in the presence of another man's wife. Miriam must know full well that he had nothing more to ask of her. Indeed, he had entirely ceased, even in his hours of solitude, to care or long for her. He confessed to himself that she was a grand and queenly woman, but now he felt a chill as he thought of that lofty dignity. Nay, all her doings appeared to him now in a new light. When she greeted him on the hill-top with a cold smile he had felt convinced that henceforth they were strangers indeed ; and as they sat by the blazing fire in front of the elders' tent, where they now met again, this feeling grew stronger and stronger. Miriam had long since parted from Reuben and his Milcah, and during her solitary waiting many thoughts had crossed through her brain of what she would now make this man feel — the man to whom in an hour of strong excitement she opened the depths of her soul. We are always most prone to be angry with those to whom we have done a wrong, and a woman holds the gift of her love as so great and precious that even the man she afterwards rejects is to think of her with gra'.itude for ever after. And Joshua had boasted that he had ceased to care for her whom he had once ardently dp':ired, and who had confessed her love for him — yea, even if Khe were offered to him. Aye, and he had proved his v/ords, for he had been content to wait with the others instead of coming to meet her. At last he came, and with him her husband who was i2S JOSHUA. \ i SO ready to make way for him. lUit she was still here to keep her eyes open in behalf of the too generous llur. The older man, to whose fate she had linked her own, and whose faithful devotion touehed her deeply, should not be supi)lanted by any other man in the high place he filled by right \ he must cling to it, if only because she did not choose to be the wife of any man who could not assert himself as the foremost of the Hebrews after her own brothers. Never had this much-venerated woman, who for her part believed, too, in her own gift of prophecy, felt so bitter, so sore and indignant. She did not own it to herself, but it was as though the hatred which Moses had fired in her soul against the Isgyptians, and which no longer had an outlet, needed some fresh object, and was now turned against the only man she ever had loved. But a true woman can make a show of friendship in word and demeanor to any one, excepting those she scorns, and Miriam received her belated guest with haughty but gni ious condescension, and begged liim to give her further details as to his captivity and release. But she called him by his old name of Hosea, and when he perceived that this was evidently intentional, he asked her whether she had for- gotten that it was she herself who, as the messenger of the Most High, had bidden him henceforth to call himself Joshua. To this she replied — and her features assumed a sharper gravity of expression — that her meuiory was good, but that she would fain forget the time he referred to. He himself had rejected the name bestowed on him by the Lord, inasmuch as he had preferred to seek the favor of the Egyptian king rather than the help i)romiscd him by God. She, faithful to her old habits, should continue to call him Hosea. The simple-hearted soldier was not prepared for such a hostile tone ; however, he preserved a fittingly calm demeanor, and replied with composure that he would but rarely give her the opportunity of calling him by any name. Those who were his friends found no difficulty in learning to call him Joshua. To this Miriam answered that she likewise would be willing to do so if her husband agreed and he himself in- sisted on it, for a man's name was but as a garment. With offices and dignities it was another matter. yosiii'A. 229 here to lur. ler own, , should place he L" she did ot assert her own ■ her part bitter, so If, but it I her soul [in outlet, d against ic woman demeanor d TMiriam gra ious ler details him by his Lt this was lie had for- ger of the 1 himself issumed a vas good, to. He m by the e favor of d him by jntinue to d for such igly calm .vould but by any fficiilty in would be himself in- garment. t5^ % When Joshua then declared that he had always believed that it was God Himself who had called him by the voice of His prophetess, herself, to be the captain of the hosts o< Israel, and that he conceded to no man, save only to Moses, the right to deprive him of that office, Hur agreed with him and offered him his hand. At this Miriam threw off the self-control she had hitherto preserved, and exclaimed with vehement defiance : '* In this I am not of your mind. You evaded the call of the Most High ! Can you deny it? And inasmuch as the Almighty found you at Pharaoh's footstool, instead of at the head of His jKople, He deprived you of the office to which He had raised you. He, Himself, the Mightiest of Captains, commanded the wind and waves, and they swallowed up the enemy. I sang a hymn of praise to the Lord, and the people joined in my thank.sgiving. And on that same day God called another man than you to be chief of the Hebrew host, and he, as you know, is my husband. And although Hur indeed has never learnt the arts of war, yet the Lord surely guides his arm; and who is it that giveth the victory but the Lurd Almighty? My hus- band, I tell you once again — my husband alone is the captain, and though in his excess of generosity he for- gets it, yet he will assert his right to his office when he remembers whose hand it was that chose him ; and I, his wife, life up my voice to bring it to his mind." On this Joshua turned to go, to put an end to this 'm- pleasant discussion, but Hur, very wroth at his wife s interference between men, held him fast, assuring him that he should abide by his renunciation. The wind might blow away a woman's words of displeasure ; it must rest with Moses to declare whom the Lord had chosen to be captain of His people. As he spoke Hur looked in his wife's face with stern dignity, as warning her to reflect ; and this seemed to have had the desired cflcct. Miriam turned first pale and then deep scarlet, and she, too, detained their guest as though she desired to make amends, beckoning him with a trem- bling hand to come closer to licr. " Yet one thing I must say," she began with a deep breath, " that you may not misunderstand mc. I call every man my friend who devotes himself to the causu of Israel, and Hur has told me how muc li you purpose to sacrifice ^ ''% »30 yosiruA, ■ to our people. It was your confidence in Pharaoh's clemency which came between us, and I know how to value your deep and decisive breach with the Egyptians. Still, I only truly understood the greatness of your deed when I learnt that it was not only life-long habit, but another and stronger tie that bound you to the foe." " What is the aim of such a speech ? " Joshua broke in, feeling quite sure that she was laying some fresh arrow to the bowstring intended to wound him. But she paid no heed to the interruption, and went on with a defiant sparkle in her eye which belied the moderation of her tongue : " After the guidance of the Lord had saved us from the foe, the sea cast up on shore the fairest woman we had seen for many a day. I bound up the wounds inflicted on her by a Hebrew woman, and she then confessed that she was full of love for you, and with her dying breath spoke of you as the idol of her heart." At this Joshua, deeply incensed, exclaimed : '* If this were all the truth, O wife of Hur, then my father ">.ould have told me an untrr^h. For, as I learnt from him, it was in the presence of those only who love me that the hapless woman made the last confession ; not before you. And she was wise to mistrust your presence, for you would never have understood her ! " He saw a suspicious smile play on Miriam's lips, but he heeded it ■ ot and went on : " Your wit is — oh, ten times keener than that poor child's ever was. But in your heart, which once was oj)en to such great things, there is no room for love. It will grow old and cease to beat before it has learned what love is ! Yea, in spite of your flashing eyes I tell you this : you are indeed more than a woman ; you are a prophetess, and I cannot boast of such grace. I am no more than a man, and understand the use of the sword better than looking into futurity, and nevertheless I can foretell one thing : you will cherish the hatred of me which burns in your soul. You will even light up the flame in your husband's heart and strive to fan it with the utmost zeal, and I know why ! The fiery ambition which possesses you will not suffer you to be happy as the wife of a man who must stand second to any other. You refuse to call me by the name you yourself gave me. But if hatred and pride do not altogether choke the one feeling yosiiUA. 231 'haraoh's ' how to gyptians. our deed labit, but De." broke in, sh arrow t she paid a defiant on of her ; from the n we had iflicted on d that she jath spoke r, then my as I learnt ^ who love :ssion ; not |r presence, |ips, but he ten times [t in your rs, there is >eat before |ur flashing a woman ; grace. I use of the ;vertheless kred of me |ht up the m it with ambition )py as the ler. You me. But ine feeling which unites us, namely, our love of our people, the day will come when of your own free will you will approach me and call me Joshua, unbidden, out of the fullness of your heart." With these words he bowed his head in brief farewell to Miriam and her husband, and disappeared in the darkness. Hur looked after him gloomily, and spoke not a word till the footsteps of their dei)arting guest had died away in the silence of the night. Till this hour he had always looked up to his wife with tender admiration, but now the wrath he had restrained with difBculty knew no bounds. With two long strides he came close to her ; she was even paler than he, as she stood gazing into the fire like one dis- traught. His voice had lost its rich metallic ring, and sounded harsh and thin as he said : " I was so bold as to woo a maiden who believed herself nearer to (iod than other women, snd now she is mii-o she makes me repent of my audacity ! " "Repent?" She paused with white lips, and as she looked up at him, a defiant glance sparkled in her black eyes. He seized her hand with so firm a grip that it hurt her, and went on as he had begun : "Yes, you m.iie me repent of it. Shame on me if I riuffer this hour of degrada- tion to be followed by such another ! " She tried to wrench her hand free but he would not sur- render it and went on : " I wooed and won you to be the pride of my house. I believed I was sowing honor, I have reaped dishonor — for what deeper disgrace may be- fall a man than that the wife should have the mastery and dare to wound the heart of his friend, whom hospitality should protect, with hostile words. A woman, such as you are not, a simple, right-minded wife, who could look back on her husband's past life and think not merely of how he may gain promotion because she desires to share his great- ness — such a wife would not need to be reminded that Hur, the man who is your husband, has earned dignities and honors enough in the course of a long life to be able to lay down some portion of them without losing by it. Not he who is chief in command, but he who does most from self-sacrificing love of his nature, is the greatest in Jehovah's sight. You crave to stand aloof and be honored by the crowd as the chosen handmaid of God. I do not forbid it so long as you do not forget what your duty as a !!ll'l 232 JOSHUA, wife and mistress requires of you. To me, indeed, you also owe love, for you promised to love me on the day when we were wed : howbcit, the human heart can only give what it has to give ; and Joshua is right when he says that the love which glows and gives warmth is far from your cold soul." He turned his back on her and withdrew into the dark- ness of the tent ; she remained standing by the fire, the flickering blaze lighting up her beautiful pallid featui .s. She set her teeth tightly and clenched her hands over her heav- ing bosom as she gazed after her husband. He had stood before her in the consciousness of his dignity, grey-haired, •tall and reverend, a worthy and princely leader of the people. Each of his words had pierced her heart like a spear thrust. The power of truth had weighed his speech, and had held up a mirror to Miriam which showed her an image from which she started in horror. Now she longed to hasten after him, and beseech him to give her again the love with which he had hitherto surrounded her ; she, alone in the world, had gratefully acknowledged that she felt that she could fully return the precious boon, for she longed, ah, how ardently, to hear one kind and for- giving word from his lips. Her own heart seemed to her as a cornfield blighted by malignant mildew ; withered, dried up and ruined, where all had been so fresh and blossoming. Her thoughts flew <^o the rich arable of Goshen which, after bearing the richest crops, remained haidand parched till the river rose to soften it again, and bring the seed laid in its bosom to life and verdure. Thus was it with her ; but she had cast the ripening ears into the fire, and willfully built up a dam between the beneficent stream and the dry land. But there was yet time. She knew, indeed, that in one thing he was unjust, that she was a woman like any other, and capable of devoting herself with passionate ardor to the man she loved. It depended only on her to prove this to him and bring him to her arms. Just now, to be sure, he had a right to regard her as hard and unfeeling ; for there, where love was wont to bloom, a bitter spring had risen which poisoned all it touched. Was this the revenge taken by her heart whose ardent desires she had so heroically smothered? yosin^A, «33 you day- only 1 he is far iark- I, the . She heav- stood aired, )f the like a peech. id her w she ^e her unded ledged boon, nd for- to her hered, h and which, arched seed it with e, and mand in one other, rdor to Ive this |e sure, ig had ardent God had scorned he most precious offering, it was im- possible to doubt the fact. His presence no longer uplifted her soul in visions of glory, and she could hardly call herself His prophetess any longer. This sacrifice had led her, who was truthful, to falsehood ; conscious of al- ways desiring the right, she had hitherto lived at peace with herself; now she suffered tortures of unrest. Since that momentous step, nothing she cared for had smiled on her, who had been so full of hope. She who had never seen the woman for whom she need make way, had been sent from the presence of a poor dying stranger. She had always felt kindly to every one who loved her race and the sacred cause of her people, and now she had insulted one of their best and noblest champions with bitter wrath. The poorest serf's wife could win the husband who loved her to a closer union, and she had only estranged hers. She had come to his hearth seeking only shelter from the cold, but she had found unexpected warmth, and his generosity and love had fallen on her aching soul like balm. He could not, indeed, give her back what she had lost, but he was a welcome substitute. And he now believed her incapable of a tender emotion ; still, she must have love to live, and no sacrifice would be too great to win his back again. But pride was no less a condition of her existence, and each time she made up her mind to humble herself and open her heart to her husband, a fear of degradation checked her ; and there she stood, as though spell-bound, till the brands at her feet fell over and died out, and dark- ness surrounded her. Then a strange fear fell upon her. Two bats, which had come forth from the mines to flutter around the fire, flew close to her face with a ghostly stir. Everything prompted her to retire to the tent, to go back to her husband ; and with sudden decision she went into the spacious room, lighted by a lamp. But Hur was not there, and a slave-girl who met her told her that he had said he would remain with his son and grandson till it was time to depart. A sense of bitter woe fell upon her ; she lay down to rest, more desolate and ashamed than she had ever felt since her childhood. A few hours later the camp was astir, and when, in the irill' 'tijv "l(l. !l^i m iiilil '" •I ■ !fi.: 'ill! li 'iliii Ml - 1 834 JOSHUA. grey light of dawn, her husband entered the tent with a brief greeting, her pride once more uplifted its head and Jier reply was cold and demure He was not alone ; his son Uri followed him in. He looked graver, too, than usual, for the men of Judah had assembled at an early hour and besought him not to sur- render the captaincy in favor of a man of another tribe than theirs. This had come upon him as a surprise. He could only refer them to Moses, and the hope that their leader's decision might be given against himself grew keener as his young wife's resolute glance again roused his spirit to opposition. CHAPTER XXVI. i With refreshec- body and revived hearts the Hebrews set forth again early on the following morning ; and by this time, the little spring, which they had even dug deeper to promote its flow, was for the time exhausted. They cared the less that it refused to yield any water to carry on their journey, because they expected to find some wells at Alush. The sun mounted the cloudless sky in radiant majesty. Its splendor exerted its stirring influence on the hearts of men even, and the rocks and yellow sandy soil shone as brightly as the blue vault above. The pure aromatic air of the desert, cooled by the hours of darkness, was so light that it was a pleasure to breathe, and walking was enjoyment. The men showed firmer confidence, the women's eyes flashed more brightly than for some time past, for the Lord had shown once more that He was mindful of His people in their need ; and fathers and mothers looked proudly on their sons who had overpowered the enemy. In every tribe some one had been welcomed home who had been given up for lost, and it was a joyful duty to heal the injuries inflicted by the hard labor of the mines. More- over, Joshua's deliverance was a cause of rejoicing, not alone among his own people, but throughout the multitude ; and by all, excepting those of the tribe of Judah, he was ) JOSHUA. 235 was eyes Lord |)eople ily on l^every been il the iMore- 1 tude ;, te was now called by that new name, with full belief in the com- forting promise conveyed by it. The young men who, under him, had put the Egyptians to rout, told in their tribes what sort of man Joshua was, how he thought of everything, and put every one in the very place where he could do best. The mere light of his eye as it fell on a man fired his warlike ardor ; the foe quaked only to hear him shout the battle-cry. And those who spoke of old Nun, or of 'the noble lad, his grandson, did so with kindling glances. The high pre- tensions of the tribe of p4ihraim had often been a source of disagreement, but on this occasion it was by common consent allowed to march first. Only the men of Judah were heard to murmur and complain. They must, no doubt, have some serious ground of discontent, for Hur, the prince of their tribe, and his wife walked on with bowed heads as if oppressed by a heavy burthen, and those who spoke with them had certainly better have chosen some other opportunity. So long as the sun's rays still fell aslant, there was a little shade cast by the sandstone peaks which hemmed the path in on both sides, or stood up in its midst, and when the sons of Korah began to sing a hymn, old and young joined in ; Milcah, no longer pallid, loudest and gladdest of all, and Reuben, her released and happy husband. The cliildren picked up the golden fruits of the colocynth, which fell from the now withered gourds above as if they dropped from heaven, and brought them to their parents. But they were as bitter as gall to eat, and a morose old man of the tribe of Zebulon, who kept some of the stout rinds to serve to hold salve, said : " Thus will this day be. It has a fair seeming j but when the sun is high and we lack water we shall know its bitterness ! " And his prophecy was only too soon fulfilled j for the path, after leaving the region of sand, went on through rocky cliffs like walls of red brick and grey stone, up and up, now at an easy slope and now very steep ; the sun, too, mounted higher and higher, and the heat increased as the hours v\'ent on. Never had its arrows fallen more cruelly on the pilgrims, striking pitilessly on their unprotected heads and necks. Here an old man and there a young one sank to the ground under its fierce glow, or tottered forward like one drunk, supported by his neighbors and ■111: lii' ins % li ! •36 JOSHUA. li! ! clasping his hand to his brow. The blistered skin peeled off their faces and hands, and there was not one whose tongue and gums were not dried by the heat, or whose newly-found courage it did not quell. The beasts toiled sullenly forward with drooping heads and heavy feet, or rolled rebelliously in the sand till the herdsman's thong compelled them to collect their strength for a fresh effort. At noon the Israelites were allowed to halt, but there was not a hand-breadth of shade to give them the reprieve they sought ; and those who threw themselves down on the ground found fresh torment instead of rest. Thus the hapless wretches of their own accord set forth again soon for the wells of Alush. Until this day, as soon as the sun had passed the meridian and begun to sink towards the west, the heat had abated, and a fresher breeze had fanned their brows bef'ore the fall of dusk, but here the rocks for hours gave out the heat they had absorbed from the noon-tide sun, till at length a faintly cooler breath came up from the sea on the west. At the same time the vanguard, which, by Joshua's advice, marched foremost, halted, and the whole multitude came to a standstill. Men, women and children all fixed their eyes and pointed with hands, sticks and crooks to the same spot, for there, before them, a strange and novel spectacle attracted their gaze. A shout of amazement and delight broke from their parched and weary lips which had long ceased to stir for speech ; it rapidly spread from one division to the next, from tribe to tribe, to the lepers that closed the train and the vanguard beyond. One and another elbowed his neighbor and whispered a name familiar to them all — that of the Holy Mountain where the Lord had promised to Moses that he would lead His people into a good and pleasant land flowing with milk and honey. None had told the weary multitude that this was the place, and yet they knew that they beheld Horeb and the peak of Sinai, the most sacred summit of this mass of granite. Although but a mountain, yet was it the throne of the Almighty God of their fathers ! At this hour the whole sacred hill seemed, like the burning bush out of which He h'ld there spoken to His chosen servant, to be steeped in fire. Its seven-peaked JOSHUA. 237 iame the His Imilk this loreb this the the His iked thirst and But ere crown towered from afar, high above the hills and vales that surrounded it, burning like an enormous ruby lighted up by a blaze of glory in the clouds. Such a sight none of them had ever beheld. But the sun sank lower and lower, and disappeared in the sea which the mountain hid from their view ; the glowing ruby turned to solemn amethyst and then to the deep purple of the violet ; but the people still gazed spell-bound on the Holy Mount. Nay, even when the day-star had altogether vanished, and only its reflection bordered the edge of a long, level cloud with gleaming gold, they opened their eyes the wider, for a man of the tribe of Benjamin, his brain turned by the splendor of the scene, declared that they beheld the trailing mantle of Jehovah, and those about him to whom he pointed it out caught the pious rapture. For a little while the pilgrims had forgotten exhaustion in watching the inspiring spectacle long their high enthusiasm was turned to the deepest dis- couragement, for when night fell, and after a short march they reached the wells of Alush, it was discovered that the desert tribe which had encamped here yesterday had choked the spring, which at best was but brackish, with stones and rubbish. All the water they had carried with them had been used before reaching Dophka, and the exhausted spring at the mines had not sufficed to fill the skins. Thirst, which at first had only dried their gums, now began to burn their vitals. Their scorched throats could not swallow the solid food of which they had abundance. On every side there was nothing to be seen but heart-broken looks, and pitiable or disgraceful scenes. Men and women storming, cursing, weeping, and groaning, or else sunk in morose despair. Some, whose wailing infants clamored for water, had gathered round the choked well and were fighting for a spot on the ground where they hoped to collect a few drops of the precious fluid in a sherd. And the beasts lowed and bleated so miserably that it cut their drivers to the heart like a reproach. Very few cared to exert themselves to pitch a tent. The night was so warm, and the sooner they went forward the better, for Moses had promised to join them again at a spot but a few hours further on. He alone could help 1:1 ; ill WW II" lit) i'i iilii 338 JOSHUA, them ; it was his bounden duty to save man and beast from i)crishing of drought. If the Ood who had promised them such great things left thcni to perish in the wilderness with all their little ones, then the man in whose guidance they had put their trust was a deceiver, and the God whose power and mercy he was never weary of preaching to them was falser and feebler than the idols with heads of men and beasts whom they Iiad worshiped in Egypt. Blasphemy and curses were mingled with tiireats, and when Aaron came forth to comfort the thirsty pilgrims with words of hope, many a clenched fist was shaken at him. Even Miriam was presently forbidden by her husband to console the women with kindly speech, for a woman whose sinking child clung dying to its mother's dried-up breast had picked up a stone to fling, and the others had followed her example. Old Nun and his son were more fortunate. They were both agreed that Joshua must fight whatever post Moses might desire him to fill ; and Hur himself had led him forth to the fighting-men, who had hailed him gladly. The old man and his son both knew the secret of \v iring courage. They spoke to the men of the well- red oasis of the Amalekites, which was now not far away, and reminded them that the Lord Himself had provided the weapons they held in their hands. Joshua assured them, too, that they far out-numbered the warriors of the desert- tribe. If their young men only showed themselves as brave as they had been at Dophka and the coppermines, by God's help they should win the victory. Soon after midnight Joshua, after holding council with the elders, bid the trumpets sound to call the fighting- men together. He set them in ranks under the starlit sky, appointed a leader to each division, ar'i impressed on each the hearing of the word of command he was to obey. They came at the call, half perishing with thirst ; but the fresh efforts to which their captain exhorted them wonderfully revived their fainting energies ; as well as the hope of victory and a precious reward, a plot of land, namely, at the foot of the Holy Mountain, rich in wells and palms. Among the youths came Ephraim, giving life to the yosiiUA. ^39 were Moses d him The iring red y, and d the them, esert- brave les, by ll with jhting- starlit Ised on ras to It; but them as the land, wells I to the others by his own inexhaustible vigor. And now, when the captain, to whom God had already proved that He thought him worthy of the help which his name promised, addressed the men, bidding them put their trust in the Lord Almighty, it had quite a different effect from that produced by Aaron, whose admonitions they had hearkened to every day since they set out. When Joshua hadeoded, a jubilant shout went up from many young throats though parched with thirst : " Hail ^o the cni)tain ! You are our leader ; we will follow none other ! " Then he went on, gravely and decisively, to explain to them that he was prepared to show to the utmost such obedience as he required of them. He was ready to march as the last man in the lowest place, if it should be Moses' will. The stars were still bright in a cloudless sky when a cow-horn called the Hebrews to set forth again. A runner had already been sent on to report to Moses of their evil plight, and Ephraim had flown after him as soon as he was free to do so. But throughoui the morning's march Joshua kept his troops in strict order, as though an onslaught was to be expected. Meanwhile he took advan- tage of every minute to teach the fighting-men and their leaders something for the coming struggle, to note their behavior, and close up their ranks. He thus kept them on the alert till the stars began to pale. Few indeed were the murmurs or complaints among the fighting-men, but rebellion, curses and threats were all the more rife among those who bore no weapons. Long before dawn the cry was heard, more and more often, of " Down with Moses ! We will stone him when we find him ! " And indeed their knees were failing them for weariness, and the misery of their wives and children was visible to every eye. Not a few, indeed, picked a piece of rock from the path with a wild curse and flashing eye ; and at last the fury of the multitude waxed so wild and reckless that Hur called a council of the better disposed among the elders, and they hastened on with the fighting-men of the tribe of Judah to protect Moses, if it should come to the worst, by force of arms against the rebels. Joshua took on himself the task of keeping back the mutineers, who with curses and threats m\ % tV i 'I'ii 340 JOSHUA. ^'^i I^S9 - ■-■<? i strove to outstrip the rest. When at last the sun rose in blinding splendor, the march was no more than a struggle onwards of enfeebled wretches. Even the men at arms tottered forwards half-paralyzed. Still, when the rebels tried to pass them, they did their duty and thrust them back with spear and sword. The valley along which they made their way was shut in on both sides by steep walls of grey granite which glittered and sparkled strangely as the 'lanting sunbeams fell on the fragments of quartz thickly imbedded in the primaeval rock. 13y noon it would be scorchingly hot again between these steep cliffs, in some parts almost closing across the path ; as yet, however, they lay in morning shade. And the beasts, at any rate, found refreshment, for among the rocks in many places a succu- lent aromatic plant afforded them pasture, and the shep- herd boys, taking off their loin cloths, filled them with the fodder in spite of their own exhaustion, to offer it to their fr.mishing favorites. Thus they struggled on for less than an hour, when sud- denly a loud shout of joy rang out, spreading from the fore- most in the van to the last man in the long train. No one had been told in so many words to what it owed its origin, but every one knew it must mean that they had come upon fresh water. Then Ephraim came flying back with the glad tidings, and what a miracle it worked on the exhausted wanderers ! Th'iy pulled themselves i;p as though they had already emptied the brimming jar at a deep draught, and struggled forward at double speed. The ranks of fighting-men now no longer hindered them, but hailed those of their tribe who hastened past them with glad greetings. Soon, however, the hurrying tide stopped of its own accord ; for at the spot where refreshment was to be found the foremost came to a standstill, and behind them the whole multitude were checked more effectually than by moats and walls. The toiling pilgrims had become a vast, dis- orderly crowd, filling the whole valley. At ^ist men and women turned back carrying well-filled water jars in their hands or on their heads, beckoning joyfully to their friends with words of encouragement, and making their way through the throng to their own families ; but the precious fluid was snatched away from many before it could be con- veyed to its destination. JOSHUA. 241 ose m niggle ;n at n the thrust which ' steep angely quartz would n some :r, they , found succu- i shep- nth the to their I en sud- he fore- No one 3 origin, lie upon the glad hausted already ;vuggled icn now leir tribe [its own )e found lie whole moats fast, dis- len and in their |r friends ;ir way hirecious be con- Joshua and his troop had made tlieir way to the immediate vicinity of the wells, to keep order among the thirsty peo- ple. However, for some little time there was nothing for it but patience, while the mighty men of the tribe of Judah, who, wiUi Hur at their head, had been the fust to reach the spot. wieMed their axes, and strove with levers hastily made out of the trunks of acacia trees to clear away the huge boulders which strewed the path, and oi)en up the way to the spring which Jeapt forth from several rifts in the rock. At first It had flowed among a chaos of moss-grown blocks of granite; but presently they succeeded in directing the flow of the precious fluid, and in checking the water by form- ing a sort of tank where even the cattle could drink. Those who had filled their jars had caught the water in its over- flow from the hastily-contrived dam. Now the men whose duty it was to watch the camp kept the throng off, so as to give the water time to settle and clear in the large new basin which it filled with amazing rapidity. In sight actually of the blessing for which they had so loudly clamored, it was easy now to have patience. They had found the treasure ; all that was necessary was to husband it. Not a word of discontent or complaint or reviling was now to be heard ; many indeed looked abashed and ashamed on this new mercy from the Most High. Loud and jubilant voices were heard far and wide, shouting and talking ; but the man of God who knew every rock and valley, every pasture and spring of the hills of Horeb better than any one, and who had again been the instrument of such great blessing to his people, had retired into a neighboring ravine, as if seeking refuge there from the thanks and acclamations which rose louder and spread further every moment, seeking i)eace and silence above all things for his deeply- agitated spirit. Presently hymns of thanksgiving to the Lord were to be heard from the Hebrew multitude, who, refreshed and revived, and overflowing with gratitude, were pitching their camp with as much ho])c and confidence as ever they had known. The sound of song, of happy laughter, jests and encouraging cries, formed an accompaniment to the work of putting up tents, and the encamjimcnt was rapidly effected, ar; rapidly as if it had been raised from the earth by a magic spell. id 2\2 yosNiw. The eyes of the young men Hashed with martial ardor, and many a bcasl shod its blood to make a (Vast. Mothers, ;it"ter doing their part by the hearth and in the lent, led their Httle ones to the spring to show thcni the spot where Moses wiUi his staff had pointed otit the spring bubblin.; through the rill in the granite. Many mei\ likewise st-^' 1 with hands and eyes raised to Heaven round tlu' pla* v iure Jehovah had shown such graee to His people, and ■ Mig ihem were not a tew o'^ those nturmurvMs wlio had picked up stones wIiLMCwiih to stone ilie servant o^ (\ok\. None dou) tid tliat ihey heie belield the result of a great miracle. The elders impressed on the little «)nes thai iliey should never fv>rget thi^ d,iv ox this water, and an old grand- mother was welling hei graudehildien's brows ;il the brink of llie jiool to ensure divine protection for tluau for the rest cf their lives. HoiH\ thankl'iilness and the glow of trust prevailed on all hands ; even the fear of the h«)4ile Amalekites had vanished, for whai ill could cotne to him who put his trust in the mercy of so onmipotent a rrt)tector. Joy was absent from one tent alone, and that the finest of them ihe tent k){ the head of the tribe o( judah. Miriam sal among her women after distributing tlie mid day meal in silence \o the men overllowing with grateful enthusiasm ; she had heard fiom Milcah's husband Reid)en that Moses had made Joshua captain of the Hebrew tent in the presence of all the elders. Hur, her husband, she also was told, had exi)ressed himself ready and glad to renounce the dignity in favor t'f the st)n of Nun. The prophetess had not chosen to join in tlie people's song of praise ; when Milcah and her women had besought her to go with them to the well, she hael bidden them go without her. She was now eypecting her husband, and wished to meet him alone ; she must show him that she desired his I'orgiveness. But he did not cx)me ; for, after the council of the elders had broken up, he remained with vho new captain to help him to arrange his men, and this he did as a subordinate, obedient to Hosea, who owed his call and his name of ''^oshua to her. Her waiting women, who had gathered about her, were busy spinning ; but she could not endure this humble toil, and while she sat with idle hands staring into vacancy the yOSHl'A. MJ J or, and how nloil nilc. iiiscnl liown :; not lonos ViVl.lc. lunild ;i;u»d- \\ the Mu I'or led on ;s had iS livist c finest Judah. ic mid lalefvd <cuben :\v tent k1, she ^lad to people's :sought |hcm go \d, and »ai she )!■, after ;d with ind this kved his >r, were Iblc toil, Incy the lioiMF? went slowly indeed. And at the same lime her pur- l)osc of humbling herself before her husband grew feebler. She fell impelled to pray for slrcnglh to bow before the man who n;is in truth her mash r ; but the pioidicless, usually s(»aj)l al fervent prayer, r.ould not find the right vein of devotion. If n«)\v and then she sik ceeded in ( ollccling her thoughts ami uplifting her heart, something disturlicd her. ICveiy fresh report wlii( h was brought U^ her from the cam|) added to her displeasure. When ;il Inst dusk was falling, a. messcMiger came desiring her to have no care for the men's evening meal, wIik li had already been long prej)art'd and waiting; llin, with his son and grandson, were about to accept the bidding of Nun and Joshua to share theirs. At ihisshefc-lt il hard to restr;iin h'rlcar-;, and if she had suffered them to How un( liecked they would have b'^en the hitler drops of wrath and wounded j)ride, not tears of diiUress and reg^relfiil longing. nuiinj; the hours of the evening watch the warriors all marclied ])asl her, and fioin rank to r.ink the cry re-ech(H;d of " Hail to Joshua, ! " And tliose who leix-ated llie watch- word, "Steadfast and slron:;," did so in honor of the man she once had loved, luit now hatt.'d as slu! confessed to herself. None but the men of his own tribe had hon(;red her luuiband with a special <ry. Was this their gratitude for the generosity which had led him to abdic ate tlie j)Ost, to which h'j alone had a right, in favf)r of a younger man? It cut her to the heart to see her husband sr) dei)osed ; but it wounded her yet more to And that Ilur could thus abandon his lately wedded wife. The evening meal at the d )or of the Kj^hraimites' tent was a long one. A little before midni;;hl she sent her serving-women to bed, and lay down herself to wail till her husband should return, to ccjufoss to him al! that had troubled and angered her, and what she most d sired. She ihouglit that it would be easy lo kcej) awake when she was in such anguish of mind ; but the great f uigucs and strain of the last few days and nights had told upon her, and, in the mid ;l of a prayer for humility and llie love of her husband, she was overcome by si .ep. Al last, at the hour cf the first morning watch, when day was just beginning to break, she was startled f.or.i her slumbers by the sound of the trumpets giving warning of immediate danger. 244 JOSHUA. She rose quickly, and, glancing at her husband's couch, saw that it was empty ; still it had been used, and on the sandy soil — for mats were spread only in the living-room — . she saw the traces of Hur's footsteps by her own bedside. He must have stood close by hcr,^and perhaps, while she slept, have gazed tenderly down on her face. This was indeed the truth ; her old slave-woman told her so unasked. For after she had roused Hur she had seen him carefully shading the lamj) while he looked on Miriam's face, and bent over her for some minutes, as though he would have kissed her. This was good hearing, and rejoiced the lonely wife so greatly that she forgot her usual calm dignity and pressed her lips to the wrinkled brow of the little bent old woman, who had done service of yore to her parents. Then she hastily bid her maids to braid her hair and dress her in a holiday robe of light blue which Hur had given her, and hastened forth to take leave of him. Meanwhile the troops had formed in order. The tents were being struck, and Miriam sought her husband for a long time in vain. At last she found him ; but he was deeply engaged in talk with Joshua, and, as she caught sight of the captain, the prophetess shuddered with a sudden chill, nor could she persuade herself lo address the men. CHAPTER XXVn. A HARD battle must be fought, for, as the spies reported, the Amalekites had been joined by other desert-tribes. Nevertheless, the Israelites were still almost twice their number ; but how far inferior in warlike skill were Joshua's troops to their opponents, inured to battle and ambush. The foe came up from the south, from the oasis at the foot of the Sacred Mountain which was the primaeval home of their race, their foster mother, their beloved, their all, and to them well worth shedding the last drop for. Joshua, now the captain, recognized by Moses and all the people as leader of the Hebrew fighting-men, led his newly-formed army to the widest portion of the valley, as this allowed him to take the utmost advantage of their superior numbers. The camp was removed by his orders, JOSHUA. ■a.;s )rted, tribes, their Ishua's ibush. le foot ?me of ^, and IS and p, led galley, their )rders, and pitched in a narrower place at the northern end of the valley of Rephidhn, in which tlie struggle must be fought out, as this made it easier to defend the tents. He left the command of the camp and of the men told off to protect it to the prudent care of his father. He had wished to leave Moses and all the elders of the tribes safe within the precinct: of the camp, but their great leader had gone forward with Hur and Aaron, and climbed a peak of granite where they could look down upon the fight. Thus the fighting-men could see Moses and his two companions on the cliff which commanded the top of the valley, and feel assured that the servant of the Lord would not cease to beseech Him to spare them and give them the victory. But every simple man in that host, and every woman and old man in the camp, in that hour of peril turned to the God of their fathers, and the rallying-cry chosen by Joshua, *' Jehovah, our Refuge," bound the hearts of the warriors to the ruler of the battle, and reminded the most faint-hearted and unskilled among the fighting-men that he could not take a step nor deal a blow, but the Lord would mark it. The trumpets and cow-horns of the Hebrew host rang out louder and louder, for the Amalekites were pouring down on the level ground which was to be the field of battle. It was a strange scene for such a struggle, 'uch as no experienced captain would ever willingly have chosen, for it was shut in on both sides by steep grey cliffs of granite towering up to heaven. If the foe should win, the camp, too, must be lost, and any benefit to be derived from know- ledge of warfare must here be displayed within the smallest conceivable space. To circumvent the enemy or surprise him in flank seemed quite impossible ; but even the rocks were turned to account by the leader, for wherever it was possible he had made his best slingers and archers climb up them to no great height, and instructed them to watch for a sign at which they should mingle in the fight. At the first glance Joshua perceived that he had not overrated the foe, for those who began the battle were bearded men, with clearly cut, manly faces, out of which their black eyes glowed at the enemy wilh wild and blood- thirsty hatred. And every man, like their leader himself, 2, grey-haired man of many scars, was spare and supple of 24^ yosriTA. limb. They wielded llic curved sabro, tin; javelin of heavy sharpened wood, and the lance ornamented with a tnft of camel's jiair, like practiced warriors, and the war-cry rang out loud, cruel and deiVth-defyinij; from the dcejt hearts of these men, who felt that they must die or sec their dearest possession in the hands of the enemy. At the llrst onslauLi;ht Joshua led forward the men whom he h;ul armed with the large I''gypti;m shields and lances, and these, fired by their valiant leader, made a good sta.ul. ]iartieularly as the narrow defile inio the (wUX of bntile himUMed their wild o])poiients from taking full advantage of their superior numbers. Hut when the men on toot ]')resently withdrew, and a trooj) of warriors or dromedaries rushed down on the Hebrews, many of them were seared at the strange sight of these creatures, known to them only by deseripti."^. TlK^y cast away their shields and 11ed with loud outcries, and wherever a gaj) was made the riders drove in their dromedaries and thrust down at the foe with their long sharji javelins. At this the herdsmen. \inuscd to such an attack, thought only of saving them- selves, and many turned to lly, for sudden terror seized them as they saw theilaming eyes, and heard the shrill, malignant cry of the enraged Amalekite women, who had rushed into the fight to add fuel to their husbands' courage and terrify the enemy. Thev held on to the humped brutes by leathern straps hanging down from the saddle, which tlicy clutched in their left hands, and allowed tliemselves to be dragged whithersoever the riders went. Hatred seemed to have steeled each female heart against fear of death, compassion and womanly feeling; and the hideous cry of these Megacras broke the spirit of many a brave Hebrew, But no sooner did their captain sec them give way than he took advantage of the disaster, and bid them retire and allow the savage foe to enter the valley ; for he said to himself that the superior numbers of his men could be turned to better account as soon as they had the oppor- tunity of pressing on the foe from both flanks as well as in front, and when the slingcrs and archers could take their part in the fight. Ephraim and the bravest of his comrades, who remained with him as runners, were now sent back to the northern end of the valley, to tell the leaders of the ranks posted there what Joshua proposed, and to order them to advance^ JOSH V A. ^47 than and Lid to (d be )por- las in their lined Ithcrn )sted lance ► The swift-footed shepherd lads v;inishcd as niinhly as gazelles; and it soon was scon that tluii captain had hit on the rif^hi plan ; for no sooner had the Anialekites rciiehc'd the nn'ddlc of the valley than llie Hebrews fell upon them from all sides ; scv-r.d who were bravely rush- ing forward fell in the sand a:; they brandish'-d t!ie sword or spear, hit by a round jiebble or a sharp arrow from sling or bow. Moses, meanwhile, kept his ]»la(:(; on the eliff overlooking the battle-lield, with Aaron and ITur. i''rom lli'iui-lur watched the fiijht in which he, who had grown gny in peaceful i)ursuits, could take jiart only with heart and lioiil. Not a movement, not a swoid raised or drojiped among friends or foes, escaped his keen eye; but when the T. ay had fairly begun, and the captain, with wise forethought, had opened a way for the enemy into the miflstof his (>wn fighting-men, lliir exclaimed to the grey-headed man of ( lod : " NTy wife, your sister's lofty spirit ha.s indeed discerned the Inilh. The son of Nun belies tlie call of" the Most Tligh. What is this ? We are the superior foice md yet the enemy makes his way unhindered into the /ery heart of our host. .\s the waters of the Red Sea stood aside at the word of the Lord, so do our ranks, -and, a.s it would seem, by their leader's bidding." "Only to swallow ui) Amalek as the waves of the sea swallowed up the lOgyptians," was Moses' rej)ly. Then he lifted up his hands to Heaven and cried : " Look down, Jehovah, on Thy people, who a.re in fp'sh straits. Strengthen the arm and give sight to the eyes of him whom Thou hast chosen to be '["hy sword. Send him the succor Thou didst promise him when Thou didst name him Joshua instead of Hosea ! And if Thou dost no more suffer him to prove himself steadfast and strong as beseems the captain of Thy choice, then do Thou, with the hosts of Heaven, set Thyself at the head of Thy people that they may put their enemies to flight ! " Thus the man of God besought the Lord with hands lifted on high, and ceased not to on treat Jehovah and cry to Him whose mighty will ruled His people ; and presently Aaron whispered to him that the foe was hard beset, and that the courage of the Israelites was proving itself nobly. Joshua was now here and now there, and the ranks of the enemy were visibly thinner, while those of thv, Hebrews [i !'■ V ii i; 348 'jOSHUA', J seemed to multiply. And Ilur confirmed this report, and added that the untiring zeal and heroic contempt of death of the son of Nun were l)eyond all praise. He had, as at that moment, felled one of the wildest of the Amalekites with his battle-axe. At this Moses breathed more freely. His arms fell by his side, and he eagerly watched the course of the fight which was surging and raging, tossing and waving at his feet. The sun had by this time reached its noon, and shone down on the coml>atants with scorching fires. The grey granite walls of the valley glowed with uitenser heat every hour, and the sweat had long since stood on the brows of the three men on the rock. What, then, must the heat be below, adding to the labor of struggling and wrestling ? How sorely must the wounds ache of the bleed- ing wretches lying there in the sand ! Moses felt it all as though he himself were suffering it, for his immovably steadfast soul was rich in compassion, and he bore this people, who were of his own flesh and blood, and for whom he lived and labored, in his heart as a father docs his child. The wounds inflicted on his brethren pained him ; yet his heart beat high with proud gladness as he beheld how those whose cowardly subjection had but a short while since so greatly fired his wrath had learned the arts of attack and defence. Now one band of young Hebrews after another rushed on the enemy with loud cries of " Jehovah, our Refuge ! " In Joshua's proud, heroic form he saw the posterity of Israel as he dreamed and hoped it might be, and he now no longer doubted that the Lord had indeed called Joshua to be the captain of his people. Rarely had his large com- manding look flashed more brightly than at this moment. But what was that? A cry of horror broke from Aaron's lips, and Hur started to his feet and gazed anxiously towards the north ; for from the spot where the people's tents were pitched came a fresh battle-cry, mingling with loud and lamentable shrieks, not, as it seemed, from the men alone but from women and children. The enemy had surprised the camp, A troop of the Amalekites had been detached from the main body long before the battle had begun, and had yOSFIUA. «4f arted ; for came itable from the n the had j.mJc their way round by a mountain defile, known only to themselves. At this Hur thought of his young wife, md a vision rose before Aaron's mind of Elisheba, his faithful spouse, of his children and grandchildren ; and both with beseeching eyes dumbly entreated Moses to allow them to fly to the rescue of those dearest to them ; but the austere chief refused, and kept them with him. Then, again^ standing up, he raised his heart and hands once more to Heaven. With fervent prayer he cried to the Lord, and ceased not his entreaties ; as the minutes went on the more ardent was his beseeching, for all that the Hebrew host had won they now seemed to be losing. Every glance at the battle-field, everything his companions told him, while, with spirit uplifted to the Lord his God, he stood blind and deaf to the scene below, added to the burden of his woes. Joshua had placed himself at the head of a strong party of men and withdrawn from the fray, and with him were Bezaleel, Hur's grandson, Aholiab, his favorite comrade, young Ephraim and Reuben, Milcah's husband. It was with a heart full of blessing that Hur had marked them retire, for they could only have quitted the fight in order to succor the camp. He listened with eager ears to the sounds from the north, as though he divined how deeply he was interested in the broken cries and lamentations which came up from the tents on the breeze. Old Nun had taken up arms against the troop of Ama- lekites who had fallen on the camp and had fought valiantly, but when he perceived that the men whom Joshua had left under his command could no longer stand against the onslaught of the foe, he sent to crave reinforcement of the captain. Joshua forthwith entrusted the further conduct of the battle to Nahshon, the second chief of the tribe of Judah, and to Uri, the son of Hur, who had distinguished himself by his courage and forethought, and hastened with other chosen men to help his father. He had not lost a moment, and yet the fight was already decided by the time he reached the scene of the struggle ; for, as he approached the camp, the Amalekites had l)roken through his father's line of defence, and cut him off from the tents on which they were rushing. First, then, Joshua rescued the brave old man from the I'N • ill; 350 JOSHUA, foe, and next he had to drive the sons of the desert awav from the camp ; this gave rise to a sharp struggle, man to man, and hand to hand, and he himself could be in but one spot at a time, and must need leave it to the younger fighting-men to act for themselves, each in his own place. Here, too, he raised the cry, ** Jehovah, our Refuge I " and rushed, shouting these words, into Hur's tent, which was the first to be seized by the enemy, and round which the battle was fiercest. Many corpses already strewed the ground at the entrance, and furious Amalckites were struggling with a party of Hebrews, while from within came wild screams of terror. He sprang across the threshold with winged feet, and beheld a spectacle which filled even the unflinching man with terror, for, on the left of tlie large room it formed, Hebrews and Amalekites were rolling on the blood-stained mats in a furious struggle, white on the right he saw Miriam and her waiting women, whose hands the men o( the desert had tied. The men had meant to carry them off as precious plunder, but an Amalekite woman, frenzied with haired, revenge and jealousy, and eager to sacrifice the strange woman to the flames, was blowing the brands on the hearth, and, by wa^nng the veil she had snatched from Miriam's head, had fanned them to a considerable blaze. A fearful tumult filled the confined space as Joshua rushed into the tent ; on one side the yells of the strug- gling men, while on the other the prophetess' women set up a succession of loud shrieks for rescue and deliver- ance as soon as they saw him coming. Their mistress, as pale as death, knelt at the feet of the Amalekite chief, whose wife was threatening them with death by fire. She stared at their deliverer as though a spirit had started out of the earth before her eyes, and the scenes which followed stamped themselves on Miriam's memory as a series of horrible and disconnected, but never-to-be-forgotten images. First, the Amalekite chief who had bound her was a strange but heroic figure. With his swarthy skin and high hooked nose, he resembled an eagle of his native mountains ; his beard was black, his eyes were aflame. But ere long he was to measure his strent^th with another — with the man who once had been dear to her heart. She had often com- yOSHUA. 25 » was a d high tains ; I long ! man com- pared him with a lion, but never had he seemed more like the king of the desert. They were both mighty men and strong. No one could have predicted which of them must yield to the other, which must win the victory ; and it was her fate to witness the struggle, for already the fiery son of the desert had shouted his war-cry and rushed upon the more cautious Hebrew. That no man may live if his heart stops beating for so much as a minute every child must know, and yet Miriam was certain that hers had stood siill, rigid and turned to stone, when the lion rushed into peril to destroy the eagle, and the Amalekite's bright knife flashed forth, and she saw the blood flowing from her champion's shoulder. But then her heart began to beat again, nay, and faster than ever before, for suddenly the lion-hearted warrior, whom she had so lately hated with such hatred, was once more, as by a miracle, the friend of her childhood again. Love had waked up with the sound of trumi)ets and cymbals, and marched in triumph into her heart, lately so desolate and forlorn. All that had held them apart was suddenly forgotten and buried, and never were more fervent appeals addressed to the Most High than in the brief prayer which went up from her agonized soul. And as her pleading was fervent, so was it immediately an- swered, for the eagle was down and his soaring for ever ended under the superior strength of the lion. All was dark for awhile before Miriam's eyes, and it was as in a dream that she felt the cords which bound her wrists and ankles cut by Ephraim. Then she soon recov- ered consciousness, and beheld at her feet the bleeding corpse of the vanquished chief, and in other parts of the tent many bodies and v/ounded men, among them several of her husband's slaves. By them, stalwart and victorious, stood the brave fightinp;-men of her nation, with the noble and reverend figure of Nun, and Joshua, whose wounds his father was binding up. This task she felt should have been hers, and hers alone ; and deep grief and burning shame came over her as she remembered how greatly she had sinned against this man. She knew not how she could repay him, on whom she had brought such deep sorrow, all she owed him. Her whole heart longed to hear some word of forgiveness from his lips, 252 yosiiUA, and she went towards him on her knees across ♦he blood- stained ground j but the prophcijss eloquent lips were dumb ; she could not find the right word, till suddenly the imploring cry rose loud from her oppressed breast : " Joshua ! O Joshua ! I have sinned against you indeed, and will repent of it all my life long, but do not scorn my thanks. Do not repel me from you, and, if you can, forgive me I" She could not have uttered another word ; but then — and this again she never forgot — his eyes had overflowed with scalding tears, and he had raised hcrfrom the ground with irresistible strength, and yet with a hand as gentle as a mother's when her child has had a fall, and from his lips came mild and friendly words, promising full forgiveness. The mere pressure of his hand was enough to show her that he was no longer wroth with her, as she heard his assur- ance that the name of Joshua could not fall more sweetly on his ear from any lips than from hers. Then with the cry "Jehovah, our Refuge !" he turned from her ; but his clear shout, and the enthusiastic battle- cry of his followers rang in her ears long after. At last all was still once more, and she only knew that never before nor after had she wept so passionately or so bitterly as in that hour. Moreover, she had made two solemn vows to the God who had called her to be His handmaid. But the two men whom they most concerned were meanwhile in the thick of the tumult of battle. One had led his men back from the rescued camp to meet the foe once more ; .ic other, by the side of the leader of the multitude, was watching the varying movements of the still furious fight. Joshua found his followers hardly pressed. In one place they were giving way, in another they were making but a half-hearted sta id against the sons of the desert. Hur, too, was looking down with increasing and double anxiety on the course of the battle, for in the camp he pictured his wife and flithcr '\\\ peril, and below him his son. His fatherly heart quaked when he beheld Uri giving way, but when he made a fresh onslaught, and by a well-directed attack broke the ranks of the enemy, he held up his head again, and longed to be able to shout a word of praise that he could hear. But what ear could be sharp enough to hear a single voice above the clatter of weapons and mingled JOSIIVA. 253 place )ut a too, ty on d his herly ;n he Ltack gain, it he hear igled battle-cries, tlic shrieking (f tl.c women and the wailing of the wounded, the surly grunting of the camels, tiic blare of trumpets and horns ? And now the foremost of the Amalekitcs had f()rced their way, like the thin end of a wedge, into the furthest ranks of tlie Hebrews. If tl.-'y should succeed in breaking open a gap for those behind them, and effect a junction with those who had attacked the cami>, the battle was lost and the flite of the Israeliti,'S was sealed ; for still another horde of Amalekitcs wore m reserve at the southern end of the valley, who had not yet had any fighting, and who seemed to be intended to Drotect the oasis from the foe in the last extremity. But here was a fresh surprise. The men of the desert had made their way so far for- ward that the slingers and bowmen could scarcely hit one of them, and if these were not to remain idle they must be ordered down to the scene of the struggle. Hur might have called in vain to Uri to remember these men and give them some fresh occui)ation, but sud- denly a youth made his appearance, coming from the end by the encampment, a lad as nimble as a mountain-goat, scrambling and leaping from crag to crag. As soon as he reached the first man he spoke to him, gave a signal to those beyond, who again repeated it to the next, and finally they all descended into the valley and climbed the western cliff as far as a spot where some men were stand- ing ; there they vanished as utterly as though the rocks had swallowed them. The youth who led the slingers and bowmen was Ephraim. A patch of shadow on the face of the rock was, no doubt, the opening into a ravine, and through this the men were to be led whom Joshua had sent for to succor the camp. So thought Hur, and not he alone but Aaron likewise, and again Hur began to doubt whe- ther the Lord were indeed with Joshua, for the men who were to be of use at the tents were lost to the troops which it was now the duty of his son and of his comrade Nahshon to command. The fight round the camp had already lasted above an hour, and Moses had not ceased to beseech the Lord with hands uplifted to Heaven,when the Amalekitcs made a great rush forward. At this the leader of his people collected all his strength for a new appeal to the Almighty ; but he was 'I'll' ill 254 JOSHUA. much exhausted, his knees shook and his weary arms fell by his sides. But his spirit had all its fire and his heart all its fervent desire not to cease from entreating Him who is the Ruler of battles. The leader of his people must not be idle during the struggle, and his weapon was prayer. Like a child which will not cease from beseeching its mother till she has granted him that '^'hich it unselfislily demands for its brethren, Moses importuned the Almighty, »vho had hiiherto shown Himself to be a Father to him and the Hebrew folk, and saving them as by a miracle from the grc-itest ])erils. But his frame was faint, so he called on his companions, and they pushed forward a block of stone on which he might sit, while he besieged the heart of the Lord with more and yet more prayers. There he sat ; and when his weary limbs rcftiscd their service his soul still answered to his call, and went up as in a flame to the Ruler of the des- tinies of man. But his arms grew more and more feeble, and dropped at last as if weighed down by heavy masses of lead, although it had for yeai •. been his habit to raise them heavenwards when he cried f(;rvently to God on high. This his comrades knew, and they thought they had per- ceived that, as often as their i^reat chief's hands sank, the sons of Amalek gained some new advantage. Then they diligently held up his arms, the one on the right hand and the other on the left ; and although the mighty man could no longer appeal to Heaven in intelligible words, and his giant's frame swayed to and fro, and more than once he fel as though the stone on which he sat, the valley belovr him and the whole world were in movement, still his eyes and hands were raised on high. Not for an instant did he cease calling on the Most High till, on a sudden, from the camp there came up glad shouts of victory, which echoed loudly from the rocky walls of the gorge. Joshua had returned to the field of battle, and at <^hc head of his troops rushed on the enemy with irre^^iotible fury. From this moment the struggle assumed a row aspect. The decision, indeed, was still doubtful Moses, supported on either side, dared not ccure to uplift his heart and his hands, but at last, at last, the final struggle was over. The ranks of the Amalekites gave way, and presently they fled, JOSHUA. ^11 per- , the they and ould Id his e he lelow eyes broken and panic-stricken, to the northern pass by which they had entered the valley. And even from thence the cry came up from a thousand throats : " Jehovah, our Refuge ! " '* Victory ! Victory ! " At this the man of God let his arms fall from the sup- porting shoulders of his companions, stood up, tall and strong, crying with renewed and wonderfully revived energy : " I thank Thee, my God and Lord ! Jehovah, our Refuge ! Thy people are saved ! " But then his sight grew dark from exhaustion. However, he presently looked up again, and saw Ephraim pressing close on the Amalekites, who had taken their stand at the southern defile, with his slingers and bowmen, while Joshua drove the main body of the desert- tribes backwards towards their vanquished brethren. The captain had heard from a deserter of a pass by which good climbers could nnch a gorge leading out on the northern end of the battk lield, and Ephraim, in obe- dience to his command, had led the archers and slingers along this difficult path, and fallen on the rear of the last band of the enemy who could still have made any stand. Thus attacked from both sides, their ranks thinned, and their courage quelled, the sons of Amalek gave up the struggle ; and now it was seen how these children of the desert and dwellers among the highlands could use their legs, for at a sign from their leader they first killed their dromedaries, and then fled in all directions like feathers scattered by the wind. They climbed steep cliffs which looked inaccessible to man like the nimblest lizards, on their hands and feet ; but a great many escaped by the ravine which the deserter had betrayed to Joshua. ,1! J'! ;l||i CHAPTER XXVni. )ect. Irtcd his iThe led, The larger half of the Amalekites lay dead or wounded on the field of battle, and the Hebrew captain knew that the other desert tribes who had joined them had, as was their custom, abandoned their slain, and would retire to their own haunts. At the same time it was not impossible that despair might give the fugitives courage not to allow their oasis to fall into the hands of the Hebrews without a final contest. 1. 2s6 JOSHUA. However, Joshua's men were too much exhaustea for it to be possible to lead them any further at this moment. He himself had lost some blood from several slight wounds, and the great exertions of the last few days had made their mark even on his iron frame. Besides this, the sun, which had not long risen when the strife began, was already sinking to rest, and if they were to force their way through to the oasis it would not be advisable to do battle in the dark. What he and, even more, his brave followers most needed was rest till the next day's dawn. All about him he saw none but glad faces, beaming with proud self-reliance, and when he dismissed the ranks to retire to the camp and rejoice with those dear to them over the victory, the troops, which had marched past wearily and slowly, broke out in shouts of joy, as clear and glad as though they had quite forgotten the fatigues which had bowed their heads and weighted their feet. " Hail to Joshua ! Hail to the Conqueror ! " re-echoed from cliff to cliff long after the last of the troops was lost to sight. But more clearly still did the words ring in his heart in which Moses had thanked him, for they had been : " Verily as the sword of the Most High, steadfast and strong, hast thou fought the fight. So long as the Lord is thy Helper and Jehovah our Refuge, we need fear no enemies ! " He fancied he still could feel on his brow and head the kiss of the great leader, the man of God, who had clasped him to his heart before all the people, and it was not a small thing to control the violent agitation which disturbed him at the end of this all-important day. A strong desire to stand clear in his own eyes before mingling with the jubilant throng, or meeting his father, to whom a share in every great emotion that stirred his soul was due, prompted him to linger on the field of battle. This was now a scene where gloom and horror held sway, for those who lingered here besides himself were detained by death or mortal wounds. The ravens which had followed the pilgrims were soar- ing above the bodies, and already venturing to settle on the rich banquet spread before them. The scent of blood had brought the beasts of prey out of their coverts in tlie hills JOSHUA. 257 ^fore ther, his I of Iheld Isvere 5oar- the ,had Ihills and rocks, and their greedy howl or bark was to be heard on every side. Then when darkness followed on dusk, lights began to flit about over the blood-drcrchcd ground. They guided the slaves and those who missed one dear to them to dis- criminate between friend and foe, the wounded and the dead ; and many a cry of anguish from those who were badly hurt rose up amid the croaking of the birds of prey and the yells of the ravening jackals and hy^vinas, foxes and tiger-cats. But Joshua knew the horrors of a battle-field and feared them not. Leaning against a rock he saw the same stars rise as had shone on liim outside his tent in the camp by Tanis, when he stood divided against himself, face to face with the h>. lest decision in liis life. Since then a month only had g jne by, but that short space of time had witnessed an incredible cliange in his whole inner and outer life. All that had seemed great and si)lendid to him that night; as he sat outside the lent in which Ephraim lay in his fever, all that he had then deemed worthy of his most strenuous effort, now lay far behin.d him, vain and worth- less. He cared no longer for the honors and dignities with which the caprice of the weak and arbitrary king of a strange nation could make him great and rich. What to him now was the well-armed and discii^lined army among whose captains he had numbered himself with such glad pride ? He could scarcely believe tliat there had been a time when he had aspired to nothing higher than to command more and } :t more thousands of Egyptian soldiers ; when his heart had beat hi'^h at the prospect of a new title or a mark of honor confci .d by men whom, for the most part, he could not regard as worthy of his esteem. He had looked for everything from the Egyptians, for nothing from his own nation. For that night in the camp he had thought with repulsion of the great mass of the ])eoi)le who were of his own blood, as miserable slaves, perishing in degrading servitude. He had looked down in his pride even on the noblest of them, for they were but herdsmen, and as such held in contempt by the Egyptians whose feelings he shared. His own father, indeed, was an owner of beasts, and though he held hira in high veneration, this was in spite of III' i; »S8 yosi/r.j. his position, this was because his whole nature commanded respect, because the vigorous old man, with youthful fire, won the love of all men, and, above ill, that of his grateful son. He had never ceased to acknowledge him gladly, but in all other matters he had striven so to conduct him- self among his brethren in arms lliat they should forget his origin, and regard him in all respects as one of them- selves. His ancestress, .\^cnath, the wife of Josc^ph, had been an Egyptian, and of this he had always been proud. But now — to-ni'^ht? Now he would iiave made the man who called him an Egyptian feel his wrath ; and all which, at the last new moon, he would h.ve c.i:,t from him and hidden awa}' as though, it were a disgrace, at this next new moon, which, like the last, rose in a siar-lit sky, made him hold his head high with pride and joy. How grand a thought it was that he had a right to pride himself on being what he was I What a standing lie, wliat an infmite treason would his life and doings as an Eg}])lian captain appear to him now ! His upright si)irit rejoiced in the consciousness that this was an aid to tliat unworthy denial and concealment of his own blood. l\c felt with glad tha'^kfulness that he was one of the peoi)le whom tlie Most High had chosen before all others ; that he belonged to a congregation of whom, even tlie humblest, nay, ai.d every ciiild, lifted up his hands in prayer to the (lod wlum the loftiest spirits among the ]'"gyptians veiled in the nar- rowest mystery, bef"nise they lliought the common folk too weak and iuo dull-witted to stand before His might and greatness, or to c^^preheiKl them. And this, the One and only (lod, before whom the motley crowd of Egyptian gods sank into nothingncsps, this God lv:;d cliosen him, the son of Nun, out of th.e thousands of the nation, to be the leader and protector of His chosen people, and had given him a name, pledging Himself to be his Helper. To obey his God and to devote his blood and life, under His guidance, to His people, seemed to him as lofty an aim as any man ever kept in view. His black eyes flashed more brightly as he thought of it. His heart seemed too small for all the love with which he would now make up to his brethren for his shortcomings towards them in former years. He had, indeed, lost a noble and lovely woman whom JOSHUA. 259 ) pride , wliat rn the [gness, of tl^.e ;lor of edging id to His |i ever as lie I love ["or his he had hoped to win, and she was the vifc of another ; but tills did not at all troul^le the happy enthusiasm which possessed his soul ; he had ceased to desire her for his own, high as her image still stood in his heart. At this moment he thought of her with calm gratitude ; for, as he confessed to himself,- his new life had begun on that deci- sive night when Miriam had set him llie example of sacrificing everything, even what she lield dearest, for (iod and the Hebrew people. In so far as the pro])hetess had sinned against him he had blotted it all from his memory, for he was wont to forget when he had forgiven. At this moment he felt only how much he owed her. Like some noble tree uplifting its head to heaven, where two hostile countries join and touch, so he stood between his former and his present life ; and although love was laid in a grave, still he and she could never cease to strive hand in hand for the same end, and to walk in the same way. He looked back once more on the period which he had just passed through, and he could say to himself that in a very short time, an.d under his leadershij), a crowd of wretched serfs had become valiant wariiors. Tliey had already learned to obey prom])tly in tb.e field, and to be justly proud of viciory. And every new success must im- prove them. To-day, even, it seemed to him not merely desirable but i)erfectly possible to conquer a new country at their head, a home which they would love and call their own, where they might dwell in freedom and welfare, and become such men of valor as, by good training, he hoped to make them. Thus, among the horrors of the battle-field, under the moonless night, gladness, as the radiance of day, shone in- his soul, and with the words, " God and my people ! " and a thankful upward glance at the starry vault, he quitted the corpse-strewn valley of death witli a triumphant step, as though he were marching over palms and flowers cast in his victorious path by a thankful throng. Iwhom 86o JOSHUA, CONCLUSION. In the camp he found all astir. Fires were blazing in front of the tents, and around them sat joyful groups, while many a beast was slain, either as a thank-offering or for an evening feast. Wherever Joshua went he was hailed with glad acclamations ; but he failed to find his father, for Nun had accepted Hur's bidding, and it was outside his tent that the son embraced the old man, ra- diant with thankful pride. And the belated guest was welcomed by Miriam and her husband in a way which gladdened his heart ; Hur gave him his hand with htarty frankness, while she bowed reverently before him, and her eyes beamed with joy and gratitude. Before he sat down, Hur led him aside, ordered a slave who had just slaughtered a calf to divide it in two parte, and, pointing to it, said : — " You have done great things for the people and for me, son of Nun, and ray life is too short for the gratitude you have laid on me and on my wife. If you can forget the bitter words which troubled our peace at Dophka — and you say you have forgotten them — let us henceforth dwell in unity as brothers in one cause, and stand up for each other in joy and sorrow, in peril and in need. The cap- taincy henceforth belongs to you alone, Joshua, and to none other ; and the people all rejoice thereat, and, most of all, so do I and my wife. And if you share my desire that we should henceforth live in the bonds of brother- hood, come with me, and after the custom of our fathers we will walk together between the two halves of this slaugh- tered beast." And Joshua gladly did his bidding ; Miriam was the first to join in the loud approval which old Nun began, and she did so with ardent vehemence ; for it was she who, after humbling herself before her husband, whose love she had now quite won back, had suggested to him to invite Joshua to this treaty of brotherhood which was now ratified. All this had cost her no pang ; for the two vows 3r me, ; you et ihe —and dwell each cap- d to most esire ther- rs ve augh- 13 the jegan, Is she Ivhose iim to now vows JOSHUA. •64 to which she had pledged herself after that the son of Nua, whom she now was ready to call Joshua, had saved her from the hand of the foe were about to be fulfilled, and she felt that it was in a happy hour that she had made them. The feeling, new to her, that she was a woman even as other women are, gave to her whole person a gentleness which had hitherto been foreign to her, and this won her the love of her husband, whose full worth she had learnt during the bitter time when he had opened his heart to her. At the very hour when Hur and Joshua were sealing the bond of brotherhood, another faithful pair had met again whom sacred duty had torn asunder, for while the friends were still enjoying their meal in front of Hur's tent, three persons desired permission to speak with Nun, their lord and master. These were the old freed woman, who had re- mained behind in Tanis, with her daughter and Asser, from whom Hoglah had parted to stay with her feeble parents. Old Eliab, the father, had soon died, and then the mother and daughter had set forth to follow their people through unspeakable fatigues, the old woman riding her husband's ass. Nun received the faithful souls with joy, and in the same hour gave Hoglah to Asser to wife. Thus this blood- stained day had brought blessing to many ; and yet it was fated to end with a harsh discord. So long as the fires blazed in the camp there was always some stir going forward, and throughout their wanderings hither no evening had passed without some quarrel and bloody fray. Wounds and death-blows had been the fre- quent result when one who had been insulted revenged himself on his adversary, when some dishonest rascal had seized the property of another, or refused to fulfill the obligations he had contracted. In these cases it had often been a hard matter to make the peace and bring the criminal to a reckoning, for the refractory refused to acknowledge any man, be he who he might, as a judge over them. T.^ose who fancied them- selves injured banded together with others, and tried to right themselves by force. On this festive evening Hur and his guests at first heard only such a noise as every one was accustomed to hear. But presently, when besides the wild uproar a glare of light flared up close to them, the chiefs began to fear for 262 JOSHUA. thie safety of the cami), so they rose up to put an end to the turmoil, and found themselves in the presence of a spectacle which filled some with rage and horror and others with grief. The triumph of victory had turned the heads of the mul- titude. They felt prompted to give expression to their gi-atitude to the god, and with a vivid remembrance of the horrible worshin of their native land a party of Phoeni- cians among the strangers in the camp had lighted a gicat fire to their god Moloch, and were almost in the aci of flinging an Amalckite into the flames as an offering pleasing in his eyes. Close at hand the Israelites had set up a clay image of the Egyptian god Set. which one of his Hebrew devotees had brought witli him as a cluirm to ])rotect his family, i)lacingiton a tall pillar of wood. Hundreds were dancing round it, and singing in triumph. Their worship could not have been more fervent, nor the rapture of their souls more eager, if they had desired to j.ay the God of their fathers the thanksgiving which was Ilis due. ■ Soon after his return to the camp, Aaron had assembled the people to sing praises and glorify the Lord ; but the need for seeing an image of the God to which they might uplift their souls after the manner to which they had so long been accustomed had proved so strong in many of them that the mere sight of the clay idols had sufficed to bring them to their knees, and turn their hearts from the true God. At the sight of the worshipers of Moloch, who had already bound their victim, ready to cast him into the flames, Joshua was very wroth, and when in their dark- ness they refused to hear him, he bid the trumpet sounds and ])y the help of the young fighting-men, who obeyed him blindly, and to whom the strangers were anything rather than dear, he drove them without bloodshed back to their own quarter of the camp. The Hebrews yielded to the urgent exhortations of old Nun, Hur and Nahshon, and repented of their sin, which Was aggravated by ingratitude. But even they took it amiss when the fiery old man broke the images they prized so dearly, and if it had not been for the love they bore his son and grandson, and for the honor due to his white hairs^ many a hand would have been lifted against him. Moses had retired into solitude, as was his wont /after JOSHUA. .263 lad the ark- nd, lim tiicr leir old lich k it ized ; his airs^ ifter each peril, which by the grace of the Alnilghly cnmc to a good issue; and the tears rose to Miriam's eyes when slie thought of the grief it must cause her noble brother to hear the tidings of such a falling away and such deep tinthank- fulness. A dark shadow had fallen even on Joshua's glad and confident mood. lie lay sleepless oa a mat in lii,s fatlier's tent, looking back on the past. His warrior's so;d was strengthened by tlie thought that a single almighty and unerring Power ruled the universe and tlie lives of men, and recjuired unHiiling obedience frmn all created things. Every glance at the order of nature ai.d of life sJ^owed him that all things de])ended on one infinitely great and mighty Being, and rose uj), moved, or lay down to rest at sign from ilim. To liim, the captain of a ])uny army, his God was ihe supreme and wise Captain, tlie only Leader who was always sure of the victory. How great was the sin of insulting such a Lord, and of going afier strange gods in return for his mercies ! And this was what the Israelites had done before his very eyes ; and as he recalled to his memory the doings which had compelled his intervention, the question arose in his mind, how might ih.y be protected against the wrath of the Most High, and how could the eyes of the darkened multitude be ojjcned to His wondrous heart and soul-inspiring greatness? But he found no answer and saw no remedy, as h.e pictured to himself the perversity and rebellions s])irit pre- vailing in the camp, which threatened to bring evil on his people. He had succeeded in reducing tlie fighting-men to obedience. As soon as the trumpet sounded, and he made his ai)pcarance in battle-array at the head of lils troops, their stiff-necked will gave way to his. Was there nothing, then, which, in the peaceful round of every-day life, could keep them within the bounds which, under Egyptian rule, made life safe for even the humblest and weakest, and protected them against the high-handed and power- ful? Meditating on these things, he watched till dawn was near, and as the stars began to set he sprung up and bid the trtimpets sound ; and to-day, as yesterday, they assembled without a murmur, and in full numbers. He was soon marching at the head of his troops through the narrow gorge, and after they had gone forward for about an hour, in silence and in darkness, they were a04 JOSHUA. refreshed by the cooler air whic\ precedes the day. Dawn began to spread in the east, the sky grew paler, and the glowing splendors of sunrise solemnly and grandly rose above the majestic mass of the Holy Mountnin. It lay spread out before the pilgrims, almost tangibly close and clear, wuh it;; brown crags, precipices and ravines; towering above them rose its seven-peaked crown, round which a pair of eagles were soaring;, their broad wings bathed in a golden glory, in the light of the new -born day. And again, as at Alush, a pious thrill brought the march- ing host to a slanditill, while each one, from the fir:.t to the last, raised liis hands in silent adoration and i)rayer. Then the warriors went on with hearts uiijifted, one gaily calling to anolli r in glad excitement as some pretty iiille brown birds flew to meet liiem, twittering loudly, an assur- ance that fre:>h water must be near. Hardly half an hour furtlier on they saw the blue-green foliage of a taiuarisk- brake, and above it tall palms, and heard at last the sweetest sound that ever fiills on the listening ear in the desert, the babbling of a running stream. This encouraged them greqitly, rnd the mighty for?'' >f the peak of Sinai, ^ its heaven- kissing head veiled i"* bkK mist, filled the souls of these men, dwellers until now in the level meads of Gosheii, vviih devout amazement. They now proceeded with caution, for tl^c remnant of the stricken Amalekites might be lurking in ambush. But there was no foe to be seen or heard; and the only traces the Hebrews found of tlie sons of the desert and their thirst for revenge were their ruined houses, the fine palms felled and prone, and the garden-ground destroyed. They were forced to clear the slender trunks out of their path that they might not check the advance of the Hebrew multitude ; and when this task was done, Joshua went down through a defile leading to the brook in the valley, and up the nearest boulder of the mountain, to look about him, far and near, for the enemy. The mountain-path led over masses of granite veined • Now called Serbal ; not the Sinai of the monks which, in my opinion, Afas not supposed to be the mountain of the law-giving till the time of JusMnian. A full exposition of the view that Serhal is the SinairiScrpture, which was first put forward by Lepsius, and in which other wri'.rs agree, may be found in a volume, entitled (in German), " Through Goshen to b.nni," by Dr. C. r.lxrs. JOSHUA. ^ t of But Liaccs their palms m my till the is the which man). with green diorite, rising steeply till it ended /ligh abova the plain of the oasis, at a plateau where, by a clear spring, green shrubs of delicate mountain-flowers graced the wil- derness. Here he paused to rest, and looking round he discerned in the shadow of an overhanging rock a tall figure gazing at the ground. It was Moses ^he course of his reflections had so completely rapt him from his present surroundings that he did not perceive Joshua's approach, and the warrior reverently kept silence for fear of disturbing the man of God, waiting patiently till he raised his bearded face, and greeted him with dignity and kindness. Side by side they gazed down into the oasis and the desolate rocky ravines at their feet. Even a tiny strip of the Red Sea, which bathes the western foot of the moun- tains, gleamed like an emerald in the distance. And their talk was of the people, and of the greatness and power of the God w! had brought them so farwiih such wondrous works ; and as they looked to the northward they could see the endless train of the pilgrims, siowly making their way along the devious way of the defile towards the oasis. Thus did Joshua open his heart to llie man of God, and told him all he had thought and wondered during the past •leepless night, finding no answer. The prophjt listened to hiai with composure, and then replied in a deep hesitating voice and in broken sentences : " Insubordination in the camj) — yes ; it is ruining the people. But the Lord of Might has left it in these hands to dash them to pieces. Woo to those who rebel. That Power, as stupendous as this mountain, and as immovable as its foundation rock — they must feci it!" Here the angry speech of Moses ceased. After they had stood for a while looking into the distance, Joshua broke the silence by inquiring : " And what is that Power called ? " And the answer came clear and strong from the bearded lips of the man f f God : " The Law," and he pointed with his staff to the top of the ])eak. Then, with a gesture of farewell, he quitted his com- panion. Joshua, still looking out, perceived some dark shadows moving to and fro on the yellow sand of the valleys. »66 JOSHUA. These were the remnant of the Amalekites seeking a new spot where they might dwell. For a short time he kept his eye on them, and when he had assured himself that they were moving away from the oasis, he returned pensive to the valley. " The Law," he repeated to himself again and again. Yes, that was what the exiles lacked. Its severity might be the one thing capable of forming the tribes which had fled from bondage into a nation worthy of the God who had chosen them before all the other peoples of the earth. Here the captain's reflections were broken off, for the voices of men, the bellowing and bleating of herds and flocks, the barking of dog and the noise of hammers came up to him from the oasis. The tents were being pitched, a work of peace in which his aid was not needed. He lay down in the shade of a thick tamarisk shrub above which a tall palm towered proudly, and thankfull) stretched his limbs in the consciousness that henceforh the people would be amply cared for, in war by his good uword, in peace by the Law. This was much, this raised his hopes ; but na — this could not be all, could not be the end of everything. The longer he meditated, the more deeply he felt that this did not satisfy him for the mass of beings down there whom he bore in his heart as his brethren and sisters. His broad brow darkened again, and, startled out of his rest by these new doubts, he sadly shook his head. No, and again no ! The Law could not afford the people who had grown so dear to him all he desired for them. Some- thing else was needful to make their future lot as noble and fair as he had dreamed it might be on his way to the mines. But what was that something, what was its name ? And now he began to rack his brain to fmd out ; but while, with closed eyes, he allowed his Noughts to wander to those other nations whom he had seen in war and in peace, to discover what the one thing was still lack- ing to the Hebrew folk, sleep fell on him, and in a dream he saw Miriam and another lovelier form resembh'ng Kasana as he had often seen her flying to meet him, a pure and innocent child, and after her ran the white lamb which his father had given his favorite years since. The two figures each oflfered him a gift, and bid him chose one or the other. ts yOSHVA. a6y In Miriam's hands was a heavy gold plate, and on the top of it in letters of flame he saw written, " The Law." She held it forth to him with gloomy gravity. The child offered him a drooping palm-leaf, such as he had often carried in token of truce. The sight of the table of the law filled him with pious awe ; but the palm branch waved invitingly in his eyes, and he seized it quickly. Hardly had he grasped it when the figure of the prophetess vanished into thin air, like a mist wafted away by the morning breeze. He gazed in anxious surprise at the spot where she had stood, amazed and uneasy at the strange choice he had made, though feeling that he had decided rightly. Then he asked the child what her gift might signify to him and the people. At this she signed to him, pointing to the dis- tance, and spoke three words, in a gentle sweet voice which went to his heart. But strive as he might to seize their meaning he could not succeed, and when he desired the vision to interpret them he awoke at the sound of his own voice, and made his way back to the camp, disappointed and puzzled. In later days he often sought again to remember these words, but always in vain. The whole force of his body and soul he devoted to the Hebrew folk ; but his nephew Ephraim, as a powerful prince of his tribe, well worthy of the honor he achieved, founded a house in Israel. Through him old Nun saw great-grandchildren growing up who promised enduring posterity to his noble race. The rest of Joshua's active life, and how he conquered a new home for his people, is a well-known tale. And there, in the land of promise, many hundred years later, was another Joshua born who brought to all mankind the gifts which the son of Nun vainly sought for the children of Israel. In the three words spoken by the child, and which the captain of the host failed to interpret, were " Love, Mercy and Redemption ! " THE END. [gures )ther. ^THE GREAT Slrenglii Giver ,0, ^;WAN.,s.^^ j^A'n%Jnval'uaMe Food FOB Invalids &Convalescents , BECAU9E : Easily Digested by the WEAKEST STOMACH. Useful in domestic economy for making delicious Beef Tea enriching Gravies and Soups. THE KEY TO HEALTH unlocks all the clogfjed secretions of the Stomach, Liver, Bowelg and Blood, carrying off all humors and mipuri. es from the entire system, correcting Acid- ity, and curing Biliousness, Dyspepsia, Sick Head- aclie. Constipation, Itheumatism, Dropsy, Dry S!.in, Dizziness, Janmiice, Heartburn, Nervous jatul General Debility, Salt Rheiun, Erysipelas, Scrofula, etc. It purifies and eradicates from the Blood all poisonous humors, from a common Pimple to the worst Scrofulous Sore. GREAT itii Giver ' ' ■ ^^ nble Food nvalescents LTSE : ;«d ;by the JTOMACH. 3Stic economy 3ious Beef Tea is and Soups. rH unlocks •mach, Liver, humors and rectingAcid- a, Sick flead- Drupsy, Dry irn, Nervous , Erysipelas, ates from the 1 a common