erds in
the pastures. The cry, resounding far over the plain, startled a
sparrow-hawk which was gazing into the distance from a rock and, as the
bird soared upward, the youth fancied that if he stretched out his arms,
wings must unfold strong enough to bear him also through the air. Never
had he felt so light and active, so strong and free, nay had the priest
at this hour asked him the question whether he would accept the office
of a captain of thousands in the Egyptian army, he would undoubtedly
have answered, as he did before the ruined house of Nun, that his sole
desire was to remain a shepherd and rule his flocks and servants.

He was an orphan, but he had a nation, and where his people were was his
home.

Like a wanderer, who, after a long journey, sees his home in the
distance, he quickened his pace.

He had reached Tanis on the night of the new moon and the round silver
shield which was paling in the morning light was the same which had then
risen before his eyes. Yet it seemed as though years lay between his
farewell of Miriam and the present hour, and the experiences of a life
had been compressed into these few days.

He had left his tribe a boy; he returned a man; yet, thanks to this one
terrible night, he had remained unchanged, he could look those whom he
loved and reverenced fearlessly in the face.

Nay, more!

He would show the man whom he most esteemed that he, too, Ephraim, could
hold his head high. He would repay Joshua for what he had done, when he
remained in chains and captivity that he, his nephew, might go forth as
free as a bird.

After hurrying onward an hour, he reached a ruined watch-tower,
climbed to its summit, and saw, at a short distance beyond the mount
of Baal-zephon, which had long towered majestically on the horizon, the
glittering northern point of the Red Sea.

The storm, it is true, had subsided, but he perceived by the surging of
its emerald surface that the sea was by no means calm, and single black
clouds in the sky, elsewhere perfectly clear, seemed to indicate an
approaching tempest.

He gazed around him asking himself what the leader of the people
probably intended, if--as the prince had told Kasana--they had encamped
between Pihahiroth--whose huts and tents rose before him on the narrow
gulf the northwestern arm of the Red Sea thrust into the land--and the
mount of Baal-zephon.

Had Siptah lied in this too?

No. This time the malicious traitor had departed from