xt there came a
shock as of earthquake, which threw those of us who were standing to the
ground, and by a blood-red moon that now appeared we perceived that all
the army of Pharaoh was beginning to move towards the sea.

"Whither go they?" I asked of the Prince who clung to my arm.

"To doom, I think," he answered, "but to what doom I do not know."

After this we said no more, because we were too much afraid.

Dawn came at last, showing the most awful sight that was ever beheld by
the eye of man.

The wall of cloud had disappeared, and in the clear light of the
morning, we perceived that the deep waters of the Sea of Reeds had
divided themselves, leaving a raised roadway that seemed to have
been cleared by the wind, or perchance to have been thrown up by the
earthquake. Who can say? Not I who never set foot upon that path of
death. Along this wide road streamed the tens of thousands of the
Israelites, passing between the water on the right hand, and the water
on the left, and after them followed all the army of Pharaoh, save those
who had deserted, and stood or lay around us, watching. We could even
see the golden chariots that marked the presence of Pharaoh himself, and
of his bodyguard, deep in the heart of the broken host that struggled
forward without discipline or order.

"What now? Oh! what now?" murmured Seti, and as he spoke there was a
second shock of earthquake. Then to the west on the sea there arose a
mighty wave, whereof the crest seemed to be high as a pyramid. It rolled
forward with a curved and foaming head, and in the hollow of it for a
moment, no more, we saw the army of Egypt. Yet in that moment I seemed
to see mighty shapes fleeing landwards along the crest of the wave,
which shapes I took to be the gods of Egypt, pursued by a form of light
and glory that drove them as with a scourge. They came, they went,
accompanied by a sound of wailing, and the wave fell.

But beyond it, the hordes of Israel still marched--upon the further
shore.

Dense gloom followed, and through the gloom I saw, or thought I saw,
Merapi, Moon of Israel, standing before us with a troubled face and
heard or thought I heard her cry:

"_Oh! help me, my lord Seti! Help me, my lord Seti!_"

Then she too was gone.

"Harness the chariots!" cried Seti, in a hollow voice.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE CROWNING OF MERAPI

Fast as sped our horses, rumour, or rather the truth, carried by those
who had gone before us, flew