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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, 
 
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 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 
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 r riha- 
 troops 
 /erUikc 
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 I stood 
 id held 
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 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 
 
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186 
 
 JOSHUA. 
 
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 ii 
 
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 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 
 
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 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