rpassed the might of any
other deity. He himself was a Hebrew, yet she would surely believe his
assurance that he was guiltless of the plague and would gladly recall
her uncle and cousin to life, had he the power to do so. For her sake he
would undertake the most difficult enterprise.

She smiled kindly and replied:

"My poor boy! If I see any guilt in you, it is only that you are one of
a race which knows no ruth, no patience. Our beloved, hapless dead! They
must even lose the lamentations of their kindred; for the house where
they rest is plague-stricken and no one is permitted to enter."

She silently wiped her eyes and went on arranging her garlands, but tear
after tear coursed down her cheeks.

Ephraim knew not what to say, and mutely handed her the leaves and
blossoms. Whenever his hand touched hers a thrill ran through his veins.
His head and the wound began to ache, and he sometimes felt a slight
chill. He knew that the fever was increasing, as it had done once before
when he nearly lost his life in the red disease; but he was ashamed to
own it and battled bravely against his pain.

When the sun was nearing the horizon Hornecht entered the garden. He
had already seen Hosea, and though heartily glad to greet his old friend
once more, it had vexed him that the soldier's first enquiry was for
his daughter. He did not withhold this from the young widow, but his
flashing eyes betrayed the displeasure with which he delivered the
Hebrew's message. Then, turning to Ephraim, he told him that Hosea
and his men would encamp outside of the city, pitching their tents, on
account of the pestilence, between Tanis and the sea. They would soon
march by. His uncle sent Ephraim word that he must seek him in his tent.

When he noticed that the youth was aiding his daughter to weave the
garlands, he smiled, and said:

"Only this morning this young fellow declared his intention of remaining
free and a ruler all his life. Now he has taken service with you,
Kasana. You need not blush, young friend. If either your mistress
or your uncle can persuade you to join us and embrace the noblest
trade--that of the soldier--so much the better for you. Look at me!
I've wielded the bow more than forty years and still rejoice in my
profession. I must obey, it is true, but it is also my privilege to
command, and the thousands who obey me are not sheep and cattle, but
brave men. Consider the matter again. He would make a splendid leader of
th