ed or trouble of any sort,
send it to me who know it well and you shall not lack succour."

She glanced at him and burst into tears.

"Why do you weep?" he asked.

"Oh! your Highness, because I fear that trouble is near at hand. My
affianced, Laban, has a revengeful heart. Help me to the house, my
uncle."

"Listen, Hebrew," said Seti, raising his voice; "if aught that is evil
befalls this niece of yours, or if she is forced to walk whither she
would not go, sorrow shall be your portion and that of all with whom you
have to do. Do you hear?"

"O my Lord, I hear, I hear. Fear nothing. She shall be guarded carefully
as--as she will doubtless guard that trinket on her foot."

"Ana," said the Prince to me that night, when I was talking with him
before he went to rest, "I know not why, but I fear that man Laban; he
has an evil eye."

"I too think it would have been better if your Highness had left him to
be dealt with by the soldiers, after which there would have been nothing
to fear from him in this world."

"Well, I did not, so there's an end. Ana, she is a fair woman and a
sweet."

"The fairest and the sweetest that ever I saw, my Prince."

"Be careful, Ana. I pray you be careful, lest you should fall in love
with one who is already affianced."

I only looked at him in answer, and as I looked I bethought me of the
words of Ki the Magician. So, I think, did the Prince; at least he
laughed not unhappily and turned away.

For my part I rested ill that night, and when at last I slept, it was to
dream of Merapi making her prayer in the rays of the moon.

CHAPTER VII

THE AMBUSH

Eight full days went by before we left the land of Goshen. The story
that the Israelites had to tell was long, sad also. Moreover, they gave
evidence as to many cruel things that they had suffered, and when this
was finished the testimony of the guards and others must be called, all
of which it was necessary to write down. Lastly, the Prince seemed to
be in no hurry to be gone, as he said because he hoped that the two
prophets would return from the wilderness, which they never did. During
all this time Seti saw no more of Merapi, nor indeed did he speak
of her, even when the Count Amenmeses jested him as to his chariot
companion and asked him if he had driven again in the desert by
moonlight.

I, however, saw her once. When I was wandering in the town one day
towards sunset, I met her walking with her uncle Jabez upon one s