many victories;
this--Chastity--it shall be thy name; the next--Wisdom--it shall guide
thee; after it--Steadfastness--it shall keep thee in all these things;
Truth--it shall brood upon thy lips; Beauty--it shall not perish; this,
the last, is Love, of which there is naught to be said. It speaketh
for itself."

Their eyes met at his last words and for a moment dwelt. Then Rachel
looked away.

"Are the fastenings secure?" she asked.

"Firm as the virtues in a good woman's soul."

"They will hold. I would not lose one of them."

A long silence fell. The curious activity of desert-life, interrupted
for the time by the presence of the fugitives, resumed its tenor and
droned on about them. The rasping grasshopper, the darting lizard, the
scorpion creeping among the rocks, a high-flying bird, a small,
skulking, wild beast put sound and movement in the desolation of the
region. The horizon was marked by undulating hills to the west; to the
east, by sharper peaks. The scant growth was blackened or partly
covered with sand, and it fringed the distant uplands like a stubbly
beard. The little ravines were darkened with hot shadows, but the bald
slopes presented areas, shining with infinitesimal particles of quartz
and mica, to a savage sun and an almost unendurable sky. From
somewhere to the barren north the wind came like a breath of flame,
ash-laden and drying. There was nothing of the cool, damp river breeze
in this. They were in the hideous heart of the desert to whom death
was monotony, resisting foreign life, an insult.

The two in the shortening shadow of the great rock were glad of the
water-bottle. The necessity of comfortable shelter for Rachel began to
appeal urgently to Kenkenes. He put aside his dreams and thought aloud.

"What cover may I offer thy dear head this night?" he began. "We may
not return to the camp, for there of a surety they lie in wait for us.
Toora is deserted and so tempting a spot for fugitives that it will be
searched immediately. Not a hovel this side of the Nile but will be
visited. I would take thee to my father--"

"Nay," she said firmly. "I will take affliction to none other.
Already have I undone two of the best of Egypt. I will carry the
distress no further."

After a silence he began again.

"How far wilt thou trust in me, Rachel?"

She raised her face and looked at him with serious eyes.

"In all things needful which thou wilt require of me."

"And thou ca