d
national matters proceeded as the Pantheon directed by the
ecclesiastical mouthpiece.

Life was an ephemeral preface to the interminable and actual existence
of immortality. Temporal things were transient and only of
probationary value. The tomb was the ultimate and hoped-for, infinite
abiding-place.

To the ideal Osirian his faith was the essential fiber in the fabric of
his existence, to withdraw which meant physical and spiritual
destruction. The forfeiture of his faith for Rachel, therefore,
appealed to Kenkenes as a demand upon his blood for his breath's sake.
His plight was piteous; never were alternatives so apparently
impossible.

At first there was no coherent thought in the young man's mind. His
consciousness seemed to be full of rebellion, longing and amazement.
Never in his life had he been refused anything he greatly desired, when
he had justice on his side. Now he was rejected, not for a
shortcoming, but, according to his religious lights, for a virtue
instead. His gaze searched the visible portion of the other chamber
and found Rachel. In the half-light he saw that she had cast herself
down against the sarcophagus, face toward the stone, her whole attitude
one of weary depression.

Piteous as was the sight, there was comfort in it for him. Rachel
loved him so much that she was bowed with the conflict between her love
and her duty. His manhood reasserted itself. Love in youth bears hope
with it in the face of the most hopeless hindrances. With the blood of
the Orient in his veins and the fire of youth to heighten its ardor, he
was not to be wholly and for ever cast down. Furthermore, there was
Rachel to be comforted.

He turned to Deborah.

"Let it pass, then. Deny me not the joy of loving her, nor her the
small content of loving me. If there should be change, let it be in
thy prohibitions, not in our love. Enough. Art thou weary? Wouldst
thou sleep?"

"Nay," she answered bluntly.

"Then I would take counsel with thee. Thou knowest the end of Israel?"
he asked.

"I know the purpose of the Pharaoh, but there is no end to Israel."

"Not yet, perchance," he said calmly, "or never. But we shall not put
trust in auguries. The oppression of the people is already begun at
Pa-Ramesu and the brick-fields. Ye shall not return to those dire
hardships. Ye can not return to Masaarah. In Memphis I offer my
father's house, but Rachel refuses it. In Nehapehu there is safety
among