Arabs who
hate them, as we do. At least this Egyptian was accursed, for the high
Prince Seti, Pharaoh's heir, caused him to be beheaded for that crime."

"And do you hate the high Prince Seti, Pharaoh's heir, and call him
accursed?"

She hesitated, then in a doubtful voice said:

"No, I do not hate him."

"Why not, seeing that you hate the Egyptians of whom he is one of
the first and therefore twice worthy of hatred, being the son of your
oppressor, Pharaoh?"

"Because, although I have tried my best, I cannot. Also," she added with
the joy of one who has found a good reason, "he avenged my father."

"This is no cause, girl, seeing that he only did what the law forced him
to do. They say that this dog of a Pharaoh's son is here in Goshen upon
some mission. Is it true, and have you seen him? Answer, for we of the
desert folk desire to know."

"I believe it is true, Sir, but I have not seen him."

"Why not, if he is here?"

"Because I do not wish to, Sir. Why should a daughter of Israel desire
to look upon the face of a prince of Egypt?"

"In truth I do not know," replied Seti forgetting his feigned voice.
Then, seeing that she glanced at him sharply, he added in gruff tones:

"Brother, either this woman lies or she is none other than the maid they
call Moon of Israel who dwells with old Jabez the Levite, her uncle.
What think you?"

"I think, Brother, that she lies, and for three reasons," I answered,
falling into the jest. "First, she is too fair to be of the black Hebrew
blood."

"Oh! Sir," moaned Merapi, "my mother was a Syrian lady of the mountains,
with a skin as white as milk, and eyes blue as the heavens."

"Secondly," I went on without heeding her, "if the great Prince Seti is
really in Goshen and she dwells there, it is unnatural that she should
not have gone to look upon him. Being a woman only two things would have
kept her away, one--that she feared and hated him, which she denies, and
the other--that she liked him too well, and, being prudent, thought it
wisest not to look upon him more."

When she heard the first of these words, Merapi glanced up with her lips
parted as though to answer. Instead, she dropped her eyes and suddenly
seemed to choke, while even in the moonlight I saw the red blood pour to
her brow and along her white arms.

"Sir," she gasped, "why should you affront me? I swear that never till
this moment did I think such a thing. Surely it would be treason."

"Without dou