a younger man, painting an image,
preparatory to burning it in the oven. The walls were black with
smoke, the floor strewn with broken images and dried crumbs of clay.

In the center of the room was the spare figure, in white robes.
Kenkenes had opened his lips to speak when the conversation among the
trio stopped him.

"Cowards! Dastards!" the spare man vociferated. "Is there not a
patriot in Egypt? The Pharaoh in danger and not a man in the hamlet
who will raise a heel to save him!"

"Holy Father," the short man protested, "the way is long, the horses
have been required at our hands by the Pharaoh and were taken from us,
and if there be evil omens, the king's sorcerers will discover them."

"King's sorcerers!" the spare man repeated indignantly. "There is not
one of them who can tell a star from a fire-fly or read the events of
yesterday! Horses! Must ye go mounted, in litters, in chariots,
afraid of the harsh earth and a rough mile? In my youth, the young men
went barefoot and traveled the desert for the joy of effort. Oh, for
one of mine own best days! Horses!"

"Is the son of Hofa away?" the younger man asked. "He is a runner as
well as a soldier."

The spare man broke out afresh.

"A runner! Aye, of a truth he is a runner. When the tidings came that
the Pharaoh was to pursue the Israelites he ran his best--for the
hay-fields--and is hidden safe under a swath somewhere--the craven!"

Kenkenes stepped into the shed.

"What is this concerning the Israelites?" he demanded.

The spare man turned and the two artisans gazed at the young sculptor
with open mouths.

"The news is not to be cried abroad," the spare man replied shortly.

"Thou hast become cautious too late," Kenkenes retorted. "The most of
thy talk have I heard. I would know the rest of it."

"By Bast, thou art imperious! In my great days the nobles groveled to
me. Now, am I commanded by them. How thou art fallen, Jambres!

"The Israelites, my Lord," he continued mockingly, "departed out of the
land of Goshen, in the early morning hours of this day, but the Pharaoh
hath repented, and will pursue them--to turn them back, or to destroy
them." The old man's voice lost its sarcasm and became anxious.

"But the signs are ominous, the portents are evil. I know, I know, for
I am no less a mystic because I have fallen from state. His seers are
liars, they can not guide the king. He must not pursue them, for death
shadows him th