Joshua listened
with deep sympathy and tried to comfort him when, in a low voice, he made
him the confidant of his yearning, and lamented the heaviness of heart
with which he had left wife and child in want and suffering. Two sons had
died of the pestilence, and it sorely oppressed his soul that he had been
unable to provide for their burial--now his darlings would be lost to him
in the other world also and forever.

At the second halt the troubled father became franker still. An ardent
thirst for vengeance filled his soul, and he attributed the same feeling
to his stern-eyed companion, whom he saw had plunged into misfortune from
a high station in life. The ex-inspector of the stables had a
sister-in-law, who was one of Pharaoh's concubines, and through her and
his wife, her sister, he had learned that a conspiracy was brewing
against the king in the House of the Separated.--[Harem]. He even knew
whom the women desired to place in Menephtah's place.

As Joshua looked at him, half questioning, half doubting, his companion
whispered. "Siptah, the king's nephew, and his noble mother, are at the
head of the plot. When I am once more free, I will remember you, for my
sister-in-law certainly will not forget me." Then he asked what was
taking his companion to the mines, and Joshua frankly told his name. But
when the Egyptian learned that he was fettered to a Hebrew, he tore
wildly at his chain and cursed his fate. His rage, however, soon subsided
in the presence of the strange composure with which his companion in
misfortune bore the rudest insults, and Joshua was glad to have the other
beset him less frequently with complaints and questions.

He now walked on for hours undisturbed, free to yield to his longing to
collect his thoughts, analyze the new and lofty emotions which had ruled
his soul during the past few days, and accommodate himself to his novel
and terrible position.

This quiet reflection and self-examination relieved him and, during the
following night, he was invigorated by a deep, refreshing sleep.

When he awoke the setting stars were still in the sky and reminded him of
the sycamore in Succoth, and the momentous morning when his lost love had
won him for his God and his people. The glittering firmament arched over
his head, and he had never so distinctly felt the presence of the Most
High. He believed in His limitless power and, for the first time, felt a
dawning hope that the Mighty Lord who had create