, if I go to my
death, be sure that I shall know how to die strong and steadfast; but
show my old father what kindness you can."

He swung himself upon his horse and while trotting toward Tanis,
faithful to his oath, his soul was free from fear, though he did not
conceal from himself that he was going to meet great perils. His fairest
hopes were destroyed, yet deep grief struggled with glad exaltation. A
new and lofty emotion, which pervaded his whole being, had waked within
him and was but slightly dimmed, though he had experienced a sorrow
bitter enough to darken the light of any other man's existence. Naught
could surpass the noble objects to which he intended to devote his blood
and life--his God and his people. He perceived with amazement this new
feeling which had power to thrust far into the background every other
emotion of his breast--even love.

True, his head often drooped sorrowfully when he thought of his old
father; but he had done right in repressing the eager yearning to
clasp him to his heart. The old man would scarcely have understood his
motives, and it was better for both to part without seeing each other
rather than in open strife.

Often it seemed as though his experiences had been but a dream, and
while he felt bewildered by the excitements of the last few hours, his
strong frame was little wearied by the fatigues he had undergone.

At a well-known hostelry on the road, where he met many soldiers and
among them several military commanders with whom he was well acquainted,
he at last allowed his horse and himself a little rest and food; and as
he rode on refreshed active life asserted its claims; for as far as the
gate of the city of Rameses he passed bands of soldiers, and learned
that they were ordered to join the cohorts he had himself brought from
Libya.

At last he rode into the capital and as he passed the temple of Amon
he heard loud lamentations, though he had learned on the way that the
plague had ceased. What many a sign told him was confirmed at last by
some passing guards--the first prophet and high-priest of Amon, the
grey-haired Rui, had died in the ninety-eighth year of his life. Bai,
the second prophet, who had so warmly protested his friendship and
gratitude to Hosea, had now become Rui's successor and was high-priest
and judge, keeper of the seals and treasurer, in short, the most
powerful man in the realm.

CHAPTER XVII.

"Help of Jehovah!" murmured a state-prisone