ray for strength to bow before
the man who was her lord and master; but the prophetess, who was
accustomed to fervent pleading, could not find inspiration. Whenever she
succeeded in collecting her thoughts and uplifting her heart, she was
disturbed. Each fresh report that reached her from the camp increased her
displeasure. When evening at last closed in, a messenger arrived and told
her not to prepare the supper which, however, had long stood ready. Hur,
his son, and grandson had accepted the invitation of Nun and Joshua.

It was a hard task for her to restrain her tears. But had she permitted
them to flow uncontrolled, they would have been those of wrath and
insulted womanly dignity, not of grief and longing.

During the hours of the evening watch soldiers marched past, and from
troop after troop cheers for Joshua reached her.

Even when the words "strong and steadfast!" were heard, they recalled the
man who had once been dear to her, and whom now--she freely admitted
it--she hated. The men of his own tribe only had honored her husband with
a cheer. Was this fitting gratitude for the generosity with which he had
divested himself, for the sake of the younger man, of a dignity that
belonged to him alone? To see her husband thus slighted pierced her to
the heart and caused her more pain than Hur's leaving her, his
newly-wedded wife, to solitude.

The supper before the tent of the Ephraimites lasted a long time. Miriam
sent her women to rest before midnight, and lay down to await Hur's
return and to confess to him all that had wounded and angered her,
everything for which she longed.

She thought it would be an easy matter to keep awake while suffering such
mental anguish. But the great fatigues and excitements of the last few
days asserted their rights, and in the midst of a prayer for humility and
her husband's love sleep overpowered her. At last, at the time of the
first morning watch, just as day was dawning, the sound of trumpets
announcing peril close at hand, startled her from sleep.

She rose hurriedly and glancing at her husband's couch found it empty.
But it had been used, and on the sandy soil--for mats had been spread
only in the living room of the tent--she saw close beside her own bed the
prints of Hur's footsteps.

So he had stood close by it and perhaps, while she was sleeping, gazed
yearningly into her face.

Ay, this had really happened; her old female slave told her so unasked.
After she had ro