urn to those who have done me naught but evil. Did God then
make women to be sold like cattle of the field for the pleasure and the
profit of him who can pay the highest?"

"It seems so," said Jabez, spreading out his hands.

"It seems that you think so, who fashion God as you would wish him to
be, but for my part I do not believe it, and if I did, I should seek
another king. My uncle, I appeal from the priest and the elder to That
which made both them and me, and by Its judgment I will stand or fall."

"Always a very dangerous thing to do," reflected Jabez aloud, "since the
priest is apt to take the law into his own hands before the cause can
be pleaded elsewhere. Still, who am I that I should set up my reasonings
against one who can grind Amon to powder in his own sanctuary, and who
therefore may have warrant for all she thinks and does?"

Merapi stamped her foot.

"You know well it was you who brought me the command to dare the god
Amon in his temple. It was not I----" she began.

"I do know," replied Jabez waving his hand. "I know also that is what
every wizard says, whatever his nation or his gods, and what no one ever
believes. Thus because, having faith, you obeyed the command and through
you Amon was smitten, among both the Israelites and the Egyptians you
are held to be the greatest sorceress that has looked upon the Nile, and
that is a dangerous repute, my niece."

"One to which I lay no claim, and never sought."

"Just so, but which all the same has come to you. Well, knowing as
without doubt you do all that will soon befall in Egypt, and having been
warned, if you needed warning, of the danger with which you yourself are
threatened, you still refuse to obey this second command which it is my
duty to deliver to you?"

"I refuse."

"Then on your own head be it, and farewell. Oh! I would add that there
is a certain property in cattle, and the fruit of lands which descends
to you from your father. In the event of your death----"

"Take it all, uncle, and may it prosper you. Farewell."

"A great woman, friend Ana, and a beautiful," said the old Hebrew, after
he had watched her go. "I grieve that I shall never see her again, and,
indeed, that no one will see her for very long; for, remember, she is
my niece of whom I am fond. Now I too must be going, having completed my
errand. All good fortune to you, Ana. You are no longer a soldier, are
you? No? Believe me, it is as well, as you will learn. My homa