,
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
hea