“We shall certainly follow your advice,” Jethro said. “Undoubtedly the plan you propose is by far the safest. I cannot think that there is much chance of an earnest search being made among the tombs, though likely enough they may visit those which are open and empty; but as you say, they would never dream of examining the tombs in use, as they would naturally suppose that all were securely fastened. In case of the very worst, there are the coffins for us to betake ourselves to; and these, assuredly, no one would think of examining.”
“If you will come down,” Chigron said, “as soon as it is dark, I will give you provisions for some days, together with the peasants’ dresses I have prepared for you and the money Ameres committed to my charge. It is not likely that anything will occur to decide you to make a move suddenly, but it is best that you should have everything in readiness for so doing should the occasion possibly arise. I will come up myself to-morrow night if all is well, an hour after sunset. I name the time exactly in order that if you sleep at any distance away you can be here at that hour to meet me; and now I leave you to the protection of the gods. This evening I shall dismantle the chamber you have used and remove all signs of its having been inhabited.”
Chebron thanked the embalmer very earnestly for the kindness he had shown them, the trouble he had taken, and the risk he had run on their behalf.
“I would have done more if I could,” Chigron said. “Your father’s son has the highest claims upon me, and were it to half my fortune I would spend it to carry out the last wishes that Ameres expressed to me.”
As soon as the embalmer left them the three friends sat down just within the entrance to the tomb, looking out over the quiet city lying in the plain below them.
“I wish we had our peasant dresses,” Chebron said, “that we might go down with you and join in the search for Mysa.”
“It would be too dangerous,” Jethro said decidedly. “Too many have seen you taking part in the services and procession for you to have a chance of passing unnoticed. Amuba is less likely than you to be detected, and if his skin was stained, his eyebrows blackened, and his head shaved, he might manage to pass providing he walked with his eyes fixed on the ground; but in that way he would not have much chance of coming upon traces of Mysa.
“Any search you make must be at night. I shall to-day station myself near the house of Ptylus. I do not expect to gain any information from gazing at the high wall which surrounds it, but I will follow, as closely as I can without attracting observation, all the slaves or servants who may come out, especially if two issue forth together; I may then catch a few words of their talk, and possibly gather some clew to the mystery. Still I own that the chance is small, and you must not look forward in any way to my returning with news.”
“I wish, Jethro,” Chebron said, “that if possible you would again go to our house, see the old woman, and get her to bring out to you a suit of my priests’ garments; with these I could at night enter the temple, and wander unquestioned through the chambers and courts. The nights are dark now, and unless I pass close to a lamp none could recognize me. We overheard one conversation of importance there, and it may be that I could overhear another.”
“There would be danger in the attempt,” Jethro said doubtfully.
“That matters not at all!” Chebron exclaimed impetuously. “All this trouble has come upon us through me, and even should there be some slight risk I would willing face it; but in truth I think there is no chance whatever of my being recognized. See how often Amuba went there with me, and though the nights were always moonlit we never were once addressed, nor was it noticed that Amuba was not one of the regular attendants of the temple, who alone have a right to penetrate beyond the great courts.”
“So be it, then,” Jethro said. “Then you shall explore the temple, Amuba and I will search every cavern in the hills. There are many great tombs behind the temple, and just as we have selected such a hiding-place, Ptylus may have chosen one as a place of concealment for Mysa. There are many tombs there built by princes, nobles, and wealthy priests for their reception after death which could be turned into a comfortable dwelling. After we have spent some time in searching there, we must, if unsuccessful, try further away. Ptylus, no doubt, like Ameres, has farms and country residences, and she may be hidden in one of these.”
“I believe myself,” Amuba said, “that a better plan than yours will be for us to establish a watch over Plexo. Ptylus has his duties and is no doubt fully occupied in securing his election to the high priesthood, but Plexo would most probably go sometimes to see Mysa in her place of imprisonment; he will naturally be anxious to conciliate or frighten her into giving her consent to marry him as soon as possible. Therefore, if we can but watch him sufficiently closely, he is sure to lead us at last to her.”
“That will certainly be the best way, Amuba. I did not think of it before, but it is clearly the plan that promises the best chance of success. We might search the country for years without finding her; and although I wish to keep up your hopes, I really despaired in my own mind. But, as you say, if we follow Plexo, sooner or later he is sure to bring us to her. But to do so we shall want many disguises. I will think the matter over as I walk to-day, and when I see Chigron this evening will beg him to get the disguises that seem to him the best for us to use.”
“As for me, Jethro,” Chebron said, “I will visit the temple of an evening, as I said. But long before midnight all will be quiet there; so that will give me plenty of time for sleep, and in the daytime I will work with you. Get me the garb of a peasant woman. In such a dress and with a female head-covering I could surely get myself up so that even those who know me best would pass by without suspicion. Many women are taller than I am. The disguise would be out of the question for Amuba, who is well-nigh as tall as you are, besides being wide and strong-looking, but for me it would do well.”
“Yes, I think you could pass as a woman,” Jethro agreed; “and certainly the more of us there are to watch this rascal the better. But for myself I think that we are more likely to succeed by night than by day. Plexo, too, has his duties in the temple, and would be likely to pay his visits after dark. Then it would be a mere question of speed of foot, and Amuba and I used to be trained in running, and it will be a swift horse that will outpace us. And now I am going down to the city. I feel more hopeful than I did, lads, and for the first time begin to think that we have a chance of discovering where the villains have carried Mysa.”
The day passed slowly to Chebron and Amuba. They would not show themselves outside the tomb, as Chigron had earnestly begged them not to do so; besides, there were frequently people about on the hillside, for many came daily to offer prayers at the tombs of their relatives. Still they had much to talk of—the chances of finding Mysa; the question with whom she should be placed if recovered; the prospects of the long and adventurous journey which lay before them. Amuba encouraged talk on all these points, and started the conversation afresh whenever it dropped, for he saw that the excitement concerning Mysa had done a great deal for Chebron. It had weaned his thoughts from the death of his father, and the consequences that had arisen from his unfortunate shot; it had given him fresh subject for thought, and had revived his spirits and interest in life. Both lads were glad when, late in the afternoon, they saw Jethro ascending the hill.
“I have no news,” he said as he came up to them. “I have been all day in the neighborhood of the house of Ptylus, and have followed all who came out two together from it. I have overheard many scraps of conversation, and one and all talked upon the same subject, the death of Ameres and of the sacred cat, and the want of success in the search for you. The fact of Mysa being carried off was spoken of once or twice; but I was convinced by the manner in which the slaves spoke to each other on the subject that they had not the slightest idea that their master was concerned in the matter, and they had assuredly no knowledge whatever of her being in the house.
“Of course it is possible that she might be there without its being generally known to all the slaves. Still you know how things leak out in a household, and how everything done by the master and mistress soon becomes public property; and had any one among them heard something unusual was going on, it would by this time have been known to all the servants. I hardly thought that Ptylus would have ventured to have her carried home, for he might suppose that her mother’s suspicions might be directed toward him just as ours have been, and that if she made a complaint against him a search of his house might be ordered; besides, there are too many servants there for a secret to be kept. No, if a clew is to be obtained it will be in the temple or by our following Plexo.”
As soon as it was dark they descended the hill together. Chebron had attired himself in the garments bearing the distinguishing marks of the priesthood that Jethro had brought up with him, having obtained them from old Lyptis. When near the house of the embalmer the lad stopped, and Jethro went on and returned in half an hour with the various disguises he had asked Chigron to obtain for him. All these, with the exception of the scanty attire of two peasants, he hid for the present in some bushes near the path, then he rubbed Amuba’s skin and his own with a fluid he had obtained from Chigron; and after putting on the peasants’ clothes they took their way toward the house of Ptylus.
While Chebron went toward the temple, which was but a short distance from the house, Jethro and Amuba sat down by the wall close to the gate so that none could leave it without their knowledge. But beyond servants and visitors no one came out. At ten o’clock they heard the bolts of the gates fastened, but remained where they were until near midnight, when Chebron joined them. He had spent the time wandering from court to court of the temple, but beyond a solitary priest moving here and there replenishing the lamps of the altars he had seen no one, and had been himself entirely unnoticed. Amuba and Chebron were both inclined to be dispirited at the want of success of their watching, but Jethro chid them for their impatience.
“You do not suppose,” he said, “that you are going to find out a secret so well hidden by a few hours’ watching. It may be weeks before we succeed. To-morrow we will begin our watch two or three hours before sundown. I am better known to the servants at the house of Ptylus than you are, as I have often taken messages there; besides, in my disguise I could not so well loiter about without attracting attention as you could. I will, therefore, content myself with watching the northern road from the city upon the chance of his taking that way, while you in your dress as peasants can watch the house itself. You, Chebron, might sit down by the wall fifty yards from the house on the north side, while you, Amuba, had best keep on the other side of the road and somewhat to the south of the gate. In this way you will be in sight of each other and yet not together; solitary figures are less likely to attract attention than two together, for it is for two boys that people will be looking. As I should scarcely know you myself now that your skins are darkened, there is, I trust, small fear of others detecting your disguise.”
Accordingly the next day, three hours after noon, Amuba and Chebron, disguised as peasants, went down to the house of Ptylus and took their posts as arranged. Late in the afternoon Amuba noticed that one of the slaves from the house of Ptylus suddenly checked his walk as he passed Chebron and gazed fixedly at him. Amuba left the spot where he was standing and walked quickly in that direction. The slave spoke to Chebron, who rose to his feet. A moment later the slave seized him. As they were struggling Amuba ran up.
“Here is a find!” the slave exclaimed. “This is the slayer of the sacred cat. Aid me to drag him into the house of my master.”
But to his surprise Amuba sprang upon him and struck him such a heavy blow in the face that he released his hold of Chebron and staggered backward.
“Run for your life!” Amuba exclaimed to his friend. “I will take another route.”
The slave, recovering from his blow, rushed at Amuba, shouting at the top of his voice:
“Death to the insulters of the gods! Death to the slayers of the sacred cat!”
But Amuba, who was now eighteen years of age, was at once stronger and more active than the slave, whose easy life in the household of the priest had unfitted him for such a struggle. Springing back to avoid the grasp of his assailant, Amuba struck him with all his strength in the face, and as he reeled backward repeated the blow, and the man fell heavily to the ground. But several other people attracted by the conflict and the shouts of the slave, were running up, and Amuba took to his heels at the top of his speed. As he expected, the passers-by paused to assist the fallen man and to learn the cause of the fray before they took up the pursuit, and he was nearly two hundred yards away when he heard the cry again raised, “Death to the slayer of the sacred cat!”
By this time he was alongside of Chebron, who had paused to see the issue of the contest with the slave.
“Do you turn off, Chebron, and take a turning or two and conceal yourself, and then make your way up to the hill. I will keep straight on for awhile. I have more last than you have and can outrun these fellows, never fear. Do as I tell you,” he said almost angrily as he saw that Chebron hesitated when they reached the next turning. “If we keep together they will overtake us both.”
Chebron hesitated no longer, but took the turning indicated. Amuba slackened his speed now, judging correctly that his pursuers if they saw they gained upon him would not trouble themselves about his companion, of whose identity they were probably still ignorant. When, on looking back, he saw that all had passed the turning, he again quickened his speed. He was not afraid of being overtaken by those behind him, but that he might meet other people who, seeing the pursuit, would take him for a fugitive from justice, and endeavor to stop him. One or two did indeed make feeble attempts to do so, but did not care to grapple in earnest with a powerful young man, evidently desperate, and of whose crime they knew nothing.
As soon as he felt sure that Chebron was quite safe from pursuit, he turned off from the road he was following and struck across the country. A quarter of an hour’s running took him fairly beyond the villas and detached houses scattered so thickly round Thebes. The ground here was closely cultivated. It was intersected everywhere by channels conveying the water needed for the irrigation of the crops. The holdings were small, and in the center of each stood a little hut.
Some of these were inhabited, but for the most part the cultivators lived in the villages, using the huts only when it was necessary to scare away the birds and keep a close watch over their fruit. In some of these patches the fruit trees were thick, and Amuba took advantage of the cover to turn off at right angles to the course he had been pursuing, and then shaping his course so as to keep in shelter of the trees, ran until he arrived at a hut whose door stood open. A glance within showed that it was not at present used by the owner. He entered and closed the door behind him, and then climbed up a ladder, and threw himself down on some boards that lay on the rafters for the storage of fruit, pulling the ladder up after him.
The last glimpse he had of his pursuers showed him that they were fully four hundred yards behind him when he turned off from the line he had been following, and he would have kept on and trusted to his speed and endurance to outrun them had he not been sure that many of the cultivators whom he had passed in his flight, and who had contented themselves with shouting threats at him for crossing their land, would, on learning from his pursuers the crime with which he was charged, join in the pursuit. Thus fresh runners would be constantly taking up the chase, and he would eventually be run down; he therefore thought it best to attempt to conceal himself until night fell.
Scarcely had he thrown himself down when he heard loud shouts rise close at hand, and had no doubt that some laborer unobserved by him had noticed him enter the hut. He sprang down again from the loft, and seizing a stake which with several others was standing in a corner, he again sallied out. As he did so he was suddenly grasped. Twisting himself free he saw a powerful Nubian armed with a hoe. Without a moment’s hesitation Amuba sprang at him with his stake. The Nubian parried the blow with his hoe, and in turn dealt a sweeping blow at the lad.
Amuba sprang back just in time, and before the negro could recover his guard, struck him a heavy blow on the wrist with his stake. The negro dropped his hoe, uttering a cry of pain and rage. Amuba followed up the blow on the wrist with one on the ankle, and as the man fell, bounded away again. But the negro’s shouts had been heard, and the pursuers were now but fifty yards away. Amuba saw that their numbers had swollen considerably, and a doubt as to his ability to escape them for the first time entered his mind.
They were too close for any further attempts at concealment, and he had now only his speed to rely on. But he had already run nearly three miles, while many of those behind him were fresh, and he soon found that he could not again widen the space between them. For another two miles he still kept ahead, at first leaping the ditches lightly and without a pause, but at last often landing in the middle, and scrambling out with difficulty. He was becoming completely exhausted now. Those who had at first taken up the chase had long since abandoned it; but, as he had feared, fresh men constantly joined the ranks of his pursuers. They were but a few paces behind him when he found himself again on the highroad.
A few hundred yards away he saw a chariot approaching, and feeling that further flight was hopeless he turned, stake in hand, to face his pursuers, who were but a few paces behind him. With cries of “Kill him!” “Death to the insulter of the gods!” they rushed at him. Panting and breathless he defended himself as best he could. But his guard was beaten down and blows were showered upon him.
He fell, but with a great effort struggled to his feet again; his senses were fast deserting him now, but he was conscious that the chariot drew up beside him, scattering his assailants right and left. He heard a voice raised in tones of indignant reproach, and then a renewal of the cries of hatred. He felt strong arms round him; then he was lifted, and for a time became unconscious.
A PRINCE OF EGYPT.
When Amuba recovered his senses he was lying in a heap at the bottom of the chariot. Two men were standing in the car beside him. The one he supposed to be the driver, the other the owner of the chariot.
In a few minutes the chariot turned off through a stately gateway. The driver leaped down and closed the gates, and then led the horses to the steps leading up to a splendid mansion. The man beside him called out, and two or three slaves ran down the steps. Then he was lifted out, carried into the house, and laid upon a couch. A cup of wine was placed to his lips, and after he had drunk a slave bathed his head with cold water, and bandaged up the numerous cuts from which blood was flowing.
This greatly refreshed him, and he raised himself on his arm. An order was given, and the slaves left the apartment, and Amuba looking up saw a tall and stately figure standing before him. He recognized him at once, for he had seen him following the king in one of the processions among the princes of Egypt.
“Who are you? and is it true what those men whom I found maltreating you averred, that you are the slayer of the Cat of Bubastes?”
“My name is Amuba, my lord,” the lad said, striving to stand upright, but his questioner signed to him to remain seated. “I am a Rebu taken prisoner of war, and handed as a slave to Ameres, high priest of Osiris. I am not the slayer of the cat, but it is true that I was present at its death, and that it might just as well have been my arrow that accidentally pierced it as that of him who did so.”
“Then it was an accident?” the noble said.
“It was wholly an accident, my lord. We fired at a hawk that had been thinning the pet birds of my master’s daughter. One of the arrows struck a tree, and glancing off entered the house in which the cat was kept and unfortunately caused its death. We regretted the accident bitterly, knowing how sacred was the animal in the sight of the Egyptians.”
“And not in your sight, young man? You are not yet a follower of the gods of the Egyptians?”
“I am not, my lord,” Amuba answered; “but at the same time I would not upon any account have willfully done aught to offend the religious opinions of others, although I myself have not been taught to consider the life of a cat as of more value than that of other animals.”
“Then you worship the gods of your own people?”
Amuba was silent for a moment.
“I would answer frankly, my lord, and I hope that you will not be displeased. Since I have come to Egypt I have come to think that neither the gods of the Egyptians nor the gods my fathers worshiped are the true gods. I believe that there is one great God over all, and that the others are but as it were his attributes, which men worship under the name of gods.”
The Egyptian uttered an exclamation of surprise.
“Whence did you obtain such a belief as this?” he asked.
Amuba was silent.
“It must have been from Ameres himself,” the noble went on, seeing that the lad was reluctant to answer. “I knew him well, and also that he carried to an extreme the knowledge he had gained. But how came it that he should speak of such matters to you—a slave?”
“My master was good enough to make me a companion and friend to his son rather than a servant to him,” Amuba replied, “partly because he thought that I should lead him to a more active life, which he needed, for he was overstudious; partly because I had high rank in my own country, of which my father was the king. But he never spoke of this matter until after the accident of the cat. My friend Chebron was utterly cast down at the sin that he thought he had committed, and would at once have denounced himself, preferring death to living with such a burden upon his mind. Then his father, seeing that his whole life would be imbittered, and that he would probably be forced to fly from Egypt and dwell in some other land, told him the belief which he himself held. I believed this all the more readily because I had heard much the same from an Israelite maiden who served my master’s daughter.”
Again Amuba’s listener uttered an exclamation of surprise.
“I knew not,” he said, after a pause, “that there was an Israelite who still adhered to the religion of their ancestors.”
“The maiden told me that for the most part they had taken to the worship of the Egyptians, and indeed, so far as she knew, she was the last who clung to the old belief. She had been brought up by a great-grandfather who had been driven from his people and forced to dwell apart because he reproached them for having forsaken their God, and he instructed her in the faith he held, which was that there was but one God over all the earth.”
“Do you know who I am?” the noble asked abruptly.
“I know that you are one of the princes of the land, my lord, for I have seen you in a procession following closely behind the king with his sons and other princes.”
“I also am an Israelite. It seems strange to you, doubtless,” he went on, as Amuba started in astonishment at hearing a prince of Egypt declare himself as belonging to the hated race. “Many years ago, at the time I was an infant, there was a great persecution of the Israelites, and as is supposed my father and mother, fearing for my life, placed me in a little cradle and set me afloat on the water. It chanced—or was it chance or the will of God?—that the water took me to the spot where the Princess Thermuthis, the daughter of the then king, was bathing with her maidens. She had compassion upon me and adopted me, and as I grew up I had all the rights and privileges of her son, and rank, as you say, with the princes of Egypt. She called me Moses; for that was the name, as it seems, that was writ upon a piece of papyrus fastened to my cradle. I was instructed in all the learning of the Egyptians, and grew up as one of them. So I lived for many years, and had almost forgotten that I was not one of them; but now—” And here he stopped and began thoughtfully to pace up and down the apartment.
“What has become of the maiden of whom you spoke?” he asked, suddenly stopping before Amuba.
“That I know not, my lord. Upon the day that Ameres was murdered by the mob his little daughter was carried off, and Ruth, for that is her name, has also been missing ever since. It is for that reason we have lingered here, otherwise we should have fled at once.”
“You and the son of Ameres?”
“Yes, my lord, and another Rebu, one of my father’s warriors, who was a fellow-captive with me, and also slave of Ameres. The high priest had great confidence in him, and committed to him the mission of aiding Chebron to escape and of conducting us if possible back to my own land; but when we found that my young mistress was missing we decided to remain to search for her.”
“What will you do when you find her?”
“If we can rescue her from those who have carried her away we shall hand her over to her mother, and then leave the land as we had intended. Unless, indeed, you, my lord, in your goodness, could obtain for Chebron a pardon for an offense which was wholly accidental.”
“That I can never do,” Moses said. “This is wholly beyond my power; the king himself could not withstand the demand of the populace for his life. Until lately I might have in some way aided you, but I have no longer influence and have myself fallen into disgrace at court.”
After again pacing the apartment for some time, Moses went on:
“If you find this little Israelite maiden tell her that she is not the last of the Israelites who believes in the God of Abraham, our ancestor; tell her that Moses also holds to the faith. You again look surprised, young man, and you may well be so, seeing that I have from the days of my infancy been separated from my people.
“But our priests keep accurate records of all things connected with the countries and religion of the people with whom we come in contact. Thus, then, it was easy for me, who have access to all the stores of knowledge, to examine the rolls recording the first coming of my people, the rule of Joseph, the great governor, the coming of his relations here and their settlement in the country. Thus I learned that they worshiped one God, whom they believed to be the only God, in the world. I have been interested deeply in the learning of the priesthood, and have long seen that behind all the forms and mysteries of the Egyptian religion this central idea seemed to be hidden. None with whom I have spoken acknowledged boldly that it was so; but I heard reports that Ameres was bold enough to entertain the idea that there was but one God, and that our far-back ancestors, who had first worshiped him under the various attributes they ascribed to him, came in course of time to lose the truth altogether and to regard shadows as substances. Therefore, I said to myself, I too will believe in the one God worshiped by my forefathers, hoping that in time it may be that I may learn more of him.
“Until the last two or three years I have been content to live as one of the Egyptian princes; but of late my heart has turned much to my oppressed people, and I have determined upon doing what I can to relieve their burden. I have even raised my voice in the council in their favor, and this has created a coldness between the court and myself. They consider that I, having had the honor of adoption into the royal family, should myself forget, and allow others to forget, what they regard as my base origin. Sometimes I own that I myself wonder that I should feel so drawn toward them, and even wish that I could forget my origin and give my whole mind to the duties and pleasures of my present rank; but I feel moved by a spirit stronger than my own. But we must talk no longer; I see that you are now stronger. Do you think that you can walk?”
“Oh, yes,” Amuba replied, getting up and walking across the apartment. “I have not lost much blood, and was only dizzy from their blows.”
“Then it is better that you should leave at once. The people from whom I snatched you will have carried the news speedily to the city, and officials will doubtless soon arrive here to demand that you be given up to them. Take, therefore, another draught of wine and a piece of bread. I will then give you in charge of a trusty slave, who will lead you through the garden and through a small door at the back, and will guide you to any spot where you may wish to go. Even now, doubtless, a watch is being kept up in the front of the house. When the officials arrive I shall tell them the truth—that coming, as I drove, upon a lad who was being attacked and murdered by a number of brutal peasants, I carried him off in my chariot. As to the shouts I heard, that you were the slayer of the Cat of Bubastes, I regarded it as an invention designed to hinder me from interfering on your behalf; that I questioned you upon your arrival here, and finding that, as I had supposed, you were entirely innocent of the offense charged against you, I urged you to leave at once, letting you depart by the garden gate in order to escape the fury of your persecutors. As you are not an Israelite, no one can suppose that I could have any motive for shielding an offender from the punishment of his crimes. Do not thank me, for time presses, and you must be moving, so as to be well away before it is known that you have left. May the God we both worship, though as yet in ignorance, guide and preserve you and carry you and your friends through the dangers that beset you.”
Moses drew back the curtains from before the entrance to the chamber and clapped his hands, and ordered the servant who answered the call to tell Mephres to come to him. An old slave speedily appeared, and Moses ordered him to take Amuba out by the private way and to guide him by quiet roads back to the city. Then cutting short his guest’s expressions of thanks for the great kindness he had rendered him, he hurried him away, for he knew that at any moment the officials might arrive from the city.
It was well that Amuba had been supplied with a guide, for upon issuing into the night air—for by this time darkness had fallen—he found that he could with difficulty direct his steps; his head throbbed as if it would split from the blows that had been dealt him, and every limb ached. The old slave, however, seeing that he stumbled as he walked, placed his staff in one of Amuba’s hands, and taking him firmly by the arm led him steadily on. It seemed to the lad that he went on walking all night, and yet it was less than an hour after starting when his conductor found that he could go no further, and that he was wholly unable to answer his questions as to whither he wished to be guided. He determined to stop with him until he should be able to proceed again. He therefore led Amuba aside into an orchard, and there laid him down under the shelter of a tree, covering him with one of his own garments.
“It is well for the lad that my lord arrived just when he did,” he said to himself as he sat down by the side of Amuba and listened to his heavy breathing—for all in the house had heard from the charioteer of the rescue of the lad from the hands of furious peasants.
“He must have been very near death when he was saved from their hands. Maxis said that his assailants shouted out that he was the slayer of the Cat of Bubastes about which such a turmoil has been made. Had it been so I do not think that my lord would have aided him thus to escape; though for my part I care not if he had killed all the cats in Egypt, seeing that in my native Libya we worship not the gods of the Egyptians.”
Several times during the night the old man got up and plucked large handfuls of grass wet with dew and placed them on Amuba’s head, and when he perceived the first faint gleam of morning in the sky he aroused him. Amuba sat up and looked round with an air of astonishment.
“Where am I?” he exclaimed.
“You are at present in an orchard, my young friend, though to whom it may belong I know not; but finding that you were unable to continue your journey I drew you aside here, and you have slept well all night, and I hope feel better for it and able to proceed.”
“I remember now,” Amuba said; “it seemed to me that I walked for hours leaning on your arm.”
“It was but an hour,” the slave replied; “we are not yet two miles from my lord’s house.”
“And you have watched over me all night,” Amuba said; “for it was, I know, but an hour after sunset when we started. Truly I am deeply indebted to you for your kindness.”
“Speak not of it,” the old man replied. “My lord gave you into my charge, and I cannot return until I can tell him that you are in safety. But if you are able to walk we must pass on, for there may be a search for you as soon as it is light.”
“I am perfectly able to go on,” Amuba said; “thanks to the wet grass I see you have been piling round my head, the heat seems to have passed away and the throbbing to have ceased.”
Amuba was indeed now able to walk at a brisk pace.
“Which way do you want to go?” the slave asked him in a short time. “It is getting light enough now for me to see your face, and it will never do for you to meet any one. Your head is still swollen, and there are marks of bruises and cuts all over the scalp. Your appearance will attract attention at once, and if any saw you who had heard of last evening’s doings you would be at once suspected.”
“I will make direct for the hills,” Amuba said. “They are not far distant, and I can easily conceal myself among the rocks until sunset.”
“Let us hurry on, then,” the slave said; “it is but half an hour’s walk. But as we may at any moment now meet peasants going to their work, I will go on ahead; do you follow a hundred yards behind me. If I see any one coming I will lift my hand above my head, and do you at once step aside from the road into the vineyard or orchard, and lie there until they have passed.”
Amuba followed these instructions, and it was more than an hour before he reached the foot of the hills, so often did he have to turn aside to avoid groups of peasants. At last he reached the foot of the rugged ascent. Here he took leave of his guide with many warm thanks for his kindness and services, and with a message of gratitude to his lord. Then Amuba ascended the hill for a short distance, and laid himself down among some great bowlders.
Although greatly refreshed by his night’s rest he was still weak and shaken, and felt altogether unequal to making his way along the hills for the four miles which intervened between himself and the hiding-place of his friends among the tombs above the city. He was soon asleep again, and the sun was already some distance down the sky when he awoke. He waited until it sank behind the brow of the hill above him, and then climbing some distance higher made his way along the hillside, having little fear that his figure would be noticed now that the hillside was in shadow. Darkness had just fallen when he arrived at the tomb they used as their shelter. A figure was standing there in deep shadow. As he turned the path and approached, it advanced to meet him. Then there was a cry of joy, and Jethro sprang forward and clasped him in his arms.
“My dear Amuba, I never thought to see you in life again!”
A moment later Chebron ran out, and in his turn embraced Amuba.
“I shall never forgive you and I shall never forgive myself,” he said reproachfully. “What right had you to take my danger upon yourself? It was wrong, Amuba; and I have suffered horribly. Even though we are as brothers, why should you sacrifice yourself for me, especially when it is my life and not yours that is forfeited? I told myself a thousand times last night that I was base and cowardly in allowing you and Jethro to risk your lives for me, when by giving myself up the rage of the people will be satisfied, and you could make your way out of this land without great danger. It was bad enough that you should share my risk, but when it comes to your taking it all upon your shoulders that I should escape free, I can accept such sacrifice no longer; and to-morrow I will go down and surrender myself.”
Amuba was about to burst into remonstrance, when Jethro touched him as a sign to be silent. The Rebu knew how acutely Chebron had suffered and how he had spent the night in tears and self-reproaches, and felt that it was better to allow his present agitation to pass before arguing with him.
“Are you hungry, Amuba?” he asked.
“That I am, Jethro. I had nothing save a mouthful of bread since our meal here yesterday; and you will get no news out of me until I have eaten and drunk.” A meal of cakes and cool fish and a draught of wine was soon taken; and Amuba said, “Now I will tell you all about it.”
“We know the first part,” Jethro said. “When I returned here yesterday evening I found Chebron almost beside himself with anxiety. He told me how he had been discovered by one of the slaves of Ptylus who knew him by sight; how you had attacked the slave, rescued him from his hands, and then joined him in his flight; how you insisted that you should separate; and how the pursuers had all followed on your track, leaving him to return here unmolested. He had been here upward of two hours when I arrived, and as the time had passed on without your return he had become more and more anxious. Of course I at once started out to gather news, and had the greatest difficulty in persuading him to remain here, for he scorned the idea of danger to himself from the search which would be sure to be again actively set on foot. However, as I pointed out it was necessary that if you returned you should find somebody here, he at last agreed to remain.
“When I got into the town I found the whole city in the streets. The news had come that the slayers of the cat had been discovered; that one had escaped, but that the other had been overtaken after a long chase; and that he had been set upon and would have been slain, as he well deserved, had not one of the princes of the royal house arrived and carried him off in his chariot. This news excited the greatest surprise and indignation, and two officers of the city had gone out to the prince’s mansion, which was six miles away from the city, to claim the fugitive and bring him to the town, when he would be at once delivered to the just anger of the populace.
“As soon as I learned this I started out along the road by which they would return, and hurried on past the people already gathered there. I had brought my sword with me, and my intention was that as the chariot returned with you I would leap upon it, surprise and slay the officials, and drive off with you; for I knew you would be able to take no part in making the escape, as I had heard that you were already insensible when carried off in the chariot. There were groups of people all along the road with torches, but I thought that a sudden surprise would probably be successful.
“At last I heard the chariot approaching. It was being driven more slowly than I had expected. As it came to a large group of people some distance ahead of me it stopped for a moment, and the official addressed the people. There was no shout or sound of exultation, and I felt convinced at once that either upon their arrival they had found that you were already dead, or that in some miraculous way you had escaped. I therefore hurried back to the next group. When the chariot came up there was a shout of, ‘What is the news? Where is the malefactor?’ The officials checked their horses and replied: ‘A mistake has been made. The prince assures us that the lad was a poor slave and wholly innocent of this affair. He has satisfied himself that in their jealousy for the honor of the gods the peasants who attacked the lad committed a grievous wrong and fell upon a wholly innocent person. After assuring himself of this he had had his wounds bound up and suffered him to depart. The prince intends to lay a complaint before the council against the persons who have cruelly maltreated and nearly murdered an innocent person, who, he stated, interfered in the matter because he saw a slave attacking a young lad, and who fled fearing trouble because of the punishment he had inflicted upon the aggressor.’
“The announcement was received in silence; but when the chariot had driven on again there was much murmuring. This account had certainly the appearance of truth; for it was already known by the narrative of the slave who recognized Chebron that the person who rescued him was a youth and a stranger to him, and that it was this youth who had been pursued while Chebron himself had escaped. Still there was murmuring that the prince should in so important a matter have suffered the youth to depart without a more searching examination. Some said that even if the boy’s story was true he deserved punishment for attacking the slave who had arrested Chebron, while others said that as he had certainly been beaten almost to death, he had been punished sufficiently. All agreed that no doubt the whole affair would be investigated.
“I hurried back again with the news, and all night we watched for you, and when morning came without your arrival we were almost as anxious as before, fearing that you had been too badly injured to rejoin us, and that to-day you would almost certainly be recaptured. As the search for Chebron would assuredly be actively carried out, I insisted on his remaining quiet here while I made frequent journeys down to the city for news; but beyond the certainty that you had not been recaptured, although a diligent search had been made for you as well as for Chebron, I learned nothing. Now, Amuba, I have relieved you of the necessity for much talk; you have only to fill in the gaps of the story and to tell us how it was that you persuaded this Egyptian prince of your innocence.”
“It is rather a long story, Jethro; but now that I have had a meal I feel strong enough to talk all night, for I have had nearly twenty-four hours’ sleep. First, I will tell Chebron that when I took the pursuers off his track I had no idea of sacrificing myself, for I made sure that I should be able to outrun them, and I should have done so easily had it not been for fresh people constantly taking up the pursuit and at last running me down.”
Amuba then related the whole story of his flight, his attack with the peasants and his rescue, and then recited the whole of his conversation with his rescuer and his proceedings after leaving his house. “So you see,” he concluded, “that strangely enough it was the teaching of your father, Chebron, and the tale that Ruth told us, and that her grandfather before told you, of the God of their forefathers, that saved my life. Had it not been that this prince of Israelitish birth also believed in one God, it could hardly be that he would have saved me from the vengeance of the people, for as he says he is in disfavor with the king, and his conduct in allowing me to go free merely on my own assertion of my innocence is likely to do him further harm. This he would assuredly never have risked had it not been for the tie between us of a common faith in one great God.”
“It is a strange story,” Jethro said when Amuba brought his narrative to a conclusion, “and you have had a marvelous escape. Had it not been for the arrival of this prince upon the spot at the very moment you must have been killed. Had he not have been of a compassionate nature he would never, in the first place, have interfered on your behalf; and had it not been for your common faith, he would have held you until the officials arrived to claim you. Then, too, you were fortunate, indeed, in the kindness of your guide; for evidently had it not been for your long rest, and the steps he took to reduce the heat of your wounds, you must have fallen into the hands of the searchers this morning. Above all, I consider it extraordinary that you should at the critical moment have been rescued by perhaps the one man in Egypt who would have had the will and the courage to save you.”
Upon the following morning Jethro and Amuba succeeded with some difficulty in dissuading Chebron from his determination to give himself up, the argument that had the most powerful effect being that by so doing he would be disobeying the last orders of his father. It was resolved that in future as a better disguise he should be attired as a woman, and that the watch upon the house of Ptylus should be recommenced; but that they should station themselves further away. It was thought, indeed, that the search in that neighborhood was likely to be less rigorous than elsewhere, as it would not be thought probable that the fugitives would return to a spot where they had been recognized. Amuba’s disguise was completely altered. He was still in the dress of a peasant, but, by means of pigments obtained from Chigron, Jethro so transformed him as to give him, to a casual observer, the appearance of advanced years.
They had had a long discussion as to the plan they would adopt, Amuba and Jethro wishing Chebron to leave the watching entirely to them. But this he would not hear of, saying that he was confident that, in his disguise as a woman, no one would know him.
“We must find out which way he goes, to begin with,” he said. “After that none of us need go near the house. I will buy a basket and some flowers from one of the peasant women who bring them in, and will take my seat near the gate. By three o’clock Plexo will have finished his offices in the temple, and may set out half an hour later. I shall see at least which road he takes. Then, when you join me at dusk, one of you can walk a mile or two along the road; the other twice as far. We shall then see when he returns whether he has followed the road any considerable distance or has turned off by any crossroads, and can post ourselves on the following day so as to find out more.”
“The plan is a very good one, Chebron, and we will follow it. Once we get upon his trail I will guarantee that it will not be long before we trace him to his goal.”
Accordingly that afternoon Chebron, dressed as a peasant woman, took his seat with a basket of flowers fifty yards from the entrance to the house of Ptylus. At about the time he expected Plexo and his father returned together from the temple. Half an hour later a light chariot with two horses issued from the gate. Plexo was driving and an attendant stood beside him. Chebron felt sure that if Plexo was going to visit Mysa he would take the road leading into the country, and the post he had taken up commanded a view of the point where the road divided into three—one running straight north along the middle of the valley, while the others bore right and left until one fell into the great road near the river, the other into that on the side of the valley near the hills. It was this last that Plexo took; and although he might be going to visit acquaintances living in the many villas scattered for miles and miles along the roadside, Chebron felt a strong hope that he was going to Mysa’s hiding-place. As soon as it was dark he was joined by Jethro and Amuba.
“He started at three o’clock!” Chebron exclaimed as they came up to him, “and took the road leading to the foot of the hills.”
“We will go on there at once,” Jethro said. “He may return before long, and we must hurry. Do you walk quietly on, Chebron, and stop at the point where the road ahead runs into the main road. Amuba shall stop two miles further; I will go two miles further still. If he comes along the road past me we will begin at that point to-morrow.”
Jethro had but just reached the spot at which he proposed to wait when he heard the sound of wheels approaching, and a minute later the chariot drove along. The moon was not up, but the night was clear and bright; and, advancing as close he could to the passing chariot, he was able to recognize Plexo. The latter gave an angry exclamation as his horses shied at the figure which had suddenly presented itself, and gave a cut with his whip at Jethro. A minute later the chariot had disappeared and Jethro returned toward the city, picking up on his way Amuba and Chebron.
The next night Amuba took up his station a mile beyond the spot at which Jethro had seen the chariot, Jethro another mile ahead, while Chebron watched the crossroads near the town; but this time it did not come along, although Chebron had seen him start the same hour as before.
“I hardly expected to see him to-night,” Jethro said when he joined the others after fruitlessly waiting for three hours. “He will hardly be likely to visit her two days in succession. He will be more likely to leave her for a week to meditate on the hopelessness of refusing to purchase her liberty at the price of accepting him as her husband. Doubtless he has to-day merely paid a visit to some friends.”
It was not, indeed, until the fourth night of waiting that Plexo came along. This time he did not pass Jethro at all, and it was therefore certain that he had turned off from the main road either to the right or left at some point between the post of Jethro and that of Amuba. When this was determined they agreed, after a consultation, not to return to their hiding-places near Thebes that night, but to lie down under some trees by the roadside until morning broke, and then to examine the road carefully. It was not likely that another chariot would pass before morning, and they might be able to follow the tracks along the dusty road.
In this way they discovered the road where he had turned off; but beyond this the tracks did not show, as the road was hard and almost free from dust. It lay, as they expected, toward the hills; but there were so many country mansions of the wealthy classes dotted about, and so many crossroads leading to these and to the farmhouses of the cultivators, that they felt they were still far from attaining the object of their search.
After some discussion it was agreed that they should ascend the hills and remain there during the day, and that Jethro should return to the town as soon as it became dark to obtain a store of provisions sufficient to last them for a week. This was done, and the next day they separated at dawn and took up their places on the hills at a distance of about a mile apart, choosing spots where they commanded a view over the valley, and arranging to meet at a central point when night came on.
AMERES IS REVENGED.
Six days passed without their watch being rewarded; then Chebron, whose post was just opposite the road where they had traced the wheels, saw a chariot turn from the main road into it. As many others had taken that course every day he did not at first feel very hopeful, although the time precisely tallied with that at which Plexo should have arrived had he started at the same hour as before. As it came near, however, he became convinced that it was the vehicle he was looking for. The horses tallied in color with those of Plexo, and the color of his dress could even at that distance be distinguished. This time, however, he was not accompanied by a servant, but by a figure the whiteness of whose garment showed him also to be a priest. “That must be Ptylus,” he said to himself, “my father’s murderer. Would I were down by the edge of the road, with my bow and arrows; high priest as he has now become, I would send an arrow through his heart!”
The chariot turned off by the road parallel to that which had been followed from Thebes, and so close to the foot of the hills that from Chebron’s post he could no longer see it. As soon as it was out of sight he leaped to his feet and hurried along the hills to join Amuba, whose post was next to his own. He found his friend had already gone on, and he hurried breathlessly on until he reached Jethro, who had been joined by Amuba a few minutes before.
“Have you seen them?” he exclaimed.
“I have seen them and marked them down,” Jethro replied. “You see that roof among those trees at the foot of the hill half a mile further along? They turned off the road and entered these trees. Our search is over at last.”
“What had we better do, Jethro? Wait until they have left again, and then go down?”
“No,” Jethro said sternly. “There are two things to be done—the one is to rescue Mysa; the other to punish the murderer of Ameres. But even did we determine to delay our vengeance I should say we must still press on. You saw that arch-villain Ptylus with his son. He has assuredly come for some purpose; probably he may intend to terrify the girl until he drives her into taking some solemn oath that she will accept Plexo as her husband. What can a girl of that age do in the hands of unscrupulous villains like these? It may be that this fox Plexo has been trying flattery; and, finding that failed, has called in Ptylus, who can threaten her with the anger of these gods of hers, to say nothing of perpetual imprisonment and harsh treatment. We will therefore push on at once. Amuba and I carry our stout peasant staves, while you, Chebron, have your dagger concealed under that female dress. We shall have all the advantage of surprise in our favor. It is not likely that there are more than one or two men there, with perhaps a female servant. Ptylus would not wish the secret to be known to more than was absolutely necessary. Of course it is possible that the four men who carried her off may all be on guard there, but if so, it makes but six; and what with the surprise, and what with their not knowing how numerous we are, that number should not be more than sufficient for us to dispose of without difficulty. At any rate, were there twenty I would not hesitate; honest men need never fear an encounter with rogues.”
“Especially,” Amuba said, “when the honest men possess such sinews as yours, Jethro, and a good heavy cudgel in their hands.”
Jethro smiled, but was in too earnest a mood to answer, and at once led the way along the hillside until immediately behind the house among the trees; then they descended, climbing with some difficulty over the wall surrounding the wood, and entered the inclosure. Treading as lightly as possible Jethro and his companions passed through the wood and made their way up to the house. It was small but handsomely built, and was surrounded with a colonnade supported by carved pillars. The garden immediately around it was evidently carefully tended, and the house, from its secluded position, was well fitted as a place of sojourn for a wealthy priest or noble desirous of a few days’ rest and retirement from the bustle of the great city. As all were barefooted they passed across the garden to the colonnade without the slightest sound. As they reached it Jethro held up his hand for them to stop, for the sound of voices came through the wide doorway of an apartment opening out to the colonnade. Both Chebron and Amuba at once recognized the voice of Ptylus.
“I will put up with no more of this folly, Mysa. You should think yourself fortunate in the extreme, in the position in which you are, belonging to a disgraced family, to receive such an offer as my son makes to you. I will have an answer at once. You will either swear before the gods that you accept Plexo as your future husband, that you will reply to all who question you that you have been staying here by your own free will, and that you remained in concealment simply because you were overwhelmed with horror at the terrible act of sacrilege committed by your brother, or you will this night be confined in a tomb, where you will remain alone and without the light of day until you agree to my conditions. You don’t think, you little fool, that I, Ptylus, high priest of Osiris, am to be thwarted in my plans by the opposition of a child like you.”
Here a voice, which the three listeners recognized to their surprise as that of Ruth, broke out:
“Do not listen to him, Mysa. Whatever comes of it, never consent to lie before God, as this wicked man would have you. You call yourself a high priest, sir. What must be the worth of the gods you pretend to worship if they suffer one like you to minister to them? Were they gods, and not mere images of stone, they would strike you dead at the altar.”
A furious exclamation broke from Ptylus, and he stepped forward and seized the Hebrew girl roughly by the shoulder, only to start back with another exclamation as Ruth struck him with her open hand, with all her force, on the cheek.
“Drag her hence, Plexo!” he exclaimed. But at this moment the entrance was darkened, and the three listeners sprang into the room.
Ptylus had the courage that distinguished his race, and although for a moment startled at the sudden entry he did not recoil, but drawing a sword from his girdle he said haughtily:
“Who are you, and what means this intrusion?”
“We are those whom you have been hunting to death, Ptylus; and we come here as avengers of blood. As you brought about the murder of Ameres, so you must die—to say naught of your offense in carrying off the daughter of the man you slew.”
Without a word Ptylus rushed upon Jethro with his sword, thinking to make short work of this insolent peasant; but as he did so, Jethro whirled his massive club round his head, and catching the blow upon it, shivered the sword in pieces.
Ptylus stopped his arm, and, gazing steadily at his opponent, said:
“Wretch, do you dare to murder the high priest of Osiris?”
“No,” Jethro said, “but I dare to execute him,” and he brought his heavy club down with all his strength upon the head of the priest.
At this moment Plexo, who had stolen unobserved from the room the instant the others entered, returned, followed by three armed men. Chebron and Amuba were so intent upon the combat between Jethro and the priest that they did not notice the entrance of Plexo, who, with uplifted knife, sprang upon Chebron.
There was a scream of warning, and quick as thought Ruth sprang forward and pushed Plexo as he sprang through the air. The sudden shock threw both to the ground. Ruth sprang to her feet again, but Plexo lay there motionless. The three armed men stood for a moment stupefied at the fall of their two employers, and then, seeing two men and a woman, rushed forward to attack them. One sweeping blow with Jethro’s staff felled the first of his assailants to the ground; the others paused irresolute.
“Drop your weapons, or you are dead men!” Jethro exclaimed. “You are outnumbered; and if you move, you die!”
As Chebron had now thrown back his female robe and drawn his dagger, and taken his place at the door, while Jethro and Amuba were advancing against them, the two men dropped their weapons.
“Hold out your hands,” Jethro said. “My son, stand over them with your club, and break the skull of either who may move.”
The men did as they were ordered. Jethro tore strips of cloth off their garments, twisted them into ropes, and bound their wrists firmly together. The meaning tone in which Jethro had called Amuba his son had not escaped either Amuba or Chebron, who saw that Jethro was desirous of concealing their names. Mysa, who had raised a cry of joy when Jethro first spoke, had sunk terrified upon a couch, and had hidden her face in her hands during the short encounter; while Ruth had stood silent and vigilant beside her, moving only when Plexo rushed at Chebron, and retiring to Mysa’s side again as soon as she had regained her feet. She, too, understood Jethro’s motives in calling Amuba his son, and stooping over Mysa she said:
“It is all over now, Mysa, but remain quiet at present. Do not speak until you see what is going to be done.”
As soon as the men were tied Jethro secured in the same manner the man who was lying stunned from his blow. Then he turned to Plexo, who had not moved since he had fallen. He half turned him round, and uttered a low exclamation of surprise.
“Gastrion,” he said to Chebron, “go with the young lady into the garden, and remain there until we join you.”
Chebron passed out on to the colonnade, following Mysa and Ruth. The moment they were unobserved Mysa threw her arms round him, and burst into tears with joy.
“Oh, Chebron!” she exclaimed, “you have arrived just in time. I thought we were never going to get away from that dreadful man; and I don’t know what I should have done if it hadn’t been for Ruth. And, oh! they have been telling me such terrible things—but they can’t be true—that our dear father had been killed; and that it was you, Chebron, who killed dear Paucis; but of course I did not believe them—I knew it was all their wickedness.”
“Never mind about that, dear,” Chebron said; “we will talk about all this afterward. The first thing is to get you away from this place. Jethro and Amuba will soon decide what is best to be done. Are there any others in the house?”
“There is one other man,” Ruth replied, “and an old woman; I think the other man is at the door with the chariot.”
“I had better tell Jethro,” Chebron said, and he again went into the room and told Jethro what he had heard.
“We will seize the woman first,” Jethro said, “and then go out round the house and come down from the other way upon the chariot. The man will have heard the outcry; and if we came suddenly out of the door, might leap into the chariot and drive off before we could overtake him. But if we come upon it from behind we shall secure him.”
“But you have forgotten to bind Plexo,” Chebron said.
“Plexo is dead,” Jethro replied. “As he fell his arm was beneath him, and the knife with which he had intended to strike you pierced his heart. I am very glad that you observed the way I spoke to Amuba. It was of the greatest importance that the name should not be mentioned. This affair will cause a tremendous excitement. There is nothing to connect us with Ptylus, and it may be supposed that it is the work of some malefactors who came down from the hills in search of plunder. The fact that Mysa was here and was carried away is not in itself any proof that we had a hand in it, for Libyan robbers might well have carried her and Ruth away to make slaves of. Plexo caught but a glimpse of us, and doubtless only rushed out and called to the men to come to his father’s assistance. At any rate, let there be no names mentioned. Now let us finish our work here.”
The female servant was soon found and bound; then the four prisoners were placed in different rooms, and fastened securely to the wall or pillars.
“Never put two prisoners together,” Jethro said; “always remember that. Tie one man up and you may keep him; tie up two and they are sure to escape. They can bite through each other’s cords, or untie the knot with their teeth, or possibly even with their fingers.”
“Now, what is the next thing to do?” Amuba asked.
“The next thing is to have a consultation. Do you, Chebron, go out into the garden to the girls. Amuba and I will deal with the other man.”
As soon as Jethro and Amuba had left him Chebron rejoined the girls.
“You saved my life, Ruth. I shall never forget it.”
“You saved me from the crocodile, my lord. It was but a push and he fell. I scarce know how it was done.”
“Your quickness saved my life all the same, Ruth. I had not noticed him till you cried out, and then it would have been too late. We have been anxious for you also, Ruth. We hoped that you might be with Mysa, but none saw you go out with her.”
“My place was with my mistress,” Ruth said quietly. “And she was more than a mistress—she was as a friend to me.”
“But how came you here, Chebron,” Mysa again asked, “and why are you dressed up like a peasant woman? It is not seemly in any man, much less in you, a priest. And Amuba and Jethro, too; they are dressed as peasants, and their faces seem changed, I do not know how. They look darker, and I should not have known them had I not recognized Jethro’s voice.”
“It is a long story, dear, and I will tell you all presently; and we want to hear your story too. Ah! here come the others. It is to them, Mysa, far more than to me that you owe your rescue. I may know more of the learning of our people, but I have none of the readiness and coolness of Amuba, while Jethro is as prudent as he is brave. It would have fared hardly with me as well as with you, Mysa, had it not been for these good friends.”
Mysa went up to them as they approached.
“Oh, Jethro! I feel how much I owe to you; and to you, Amuba. My courage had all but given way, although Ruth strove so hard to give me hope, and I fear I could not have long withstood the threats of that bad man. You cannot tell what joy I felt when I recognized your voice.”
“Our joy was as great in finding you as yours in seeing us,” Jethro replied. “Amuba and I would gladly have laid down our lives for you. And now let us have a consultation; there is much to decide upon and arrange. Let us go round to the garden at the other side of the house. There we can sit and talk, and at the same time keep watch that no one else enters. It is not likely that any one will do so, for the place is secluded, and none would know that these men were here; still a peasant might enter to sell fowls or fruit, therefore it were best to keep an eye upon the entrance.”
They went round to some seats placed beneath trees on the other side of the house. A fountain worked by the water of a little rill on the hillside played in front of them, and a few tame waterfowl swam in a shallow basin around it. Everything was still and peaceful, and to Chebron it seemed as if the events of the last three weeks had been a hideous dream, and that they were again sitting in the garden of their house at Thebes.
“Now, first of all,” Mysa said, “I must have my questions answered. How are my father and mother and everyone?”
Jethro took Amuba’s arm and turned away.
“We will leave you, Chebron, to tell Mysa what has taken place. It will be better for you to do so alone.”
Ruth rose from her seat to leave also, but Mysa put her hand on her arm.
“I am frightened, Ruth; stay with me.”
“You told me, Mysa,” Chebron began, “that they had told you tales that our father was dead, and that it was I who killed Paucis.”
“Yes; but I did not believe them, Chebron. Of course I did not for a moment—at least not for a moment about you. But when I thought of those bad men at the gate, and the crash we heard, and the noise of the people rushing in shouting, I thought—I was afraid—that perhaps it might be true about our father. But, oh, Chebron, surely it is not so?”