s
approach.

For an instant his surprise transfixed him. Had she repented? A great
wave of compassion and tenderness swept over him and he drew her face
away between his palms. With a terrified start, the girl turned a
swift glance upward. When she recognized Kenkenes her tearful face
colored vividly. Her posture was such that she could not rise, and
with infinite gentleness he lifted her to her feet.

"What is it, Rachel? Art thou in trouble?"

Joy and maidenly confusion took away her voice.

"Alas," he went on sadly. "Am I so fallen from thy favor, shut out and
denied thy confidence?"

"Nay, nay," she protested. "Think not so harshly of me. I am--I
came--" she faltered and paused. He did not help or spare her. He had
come to learn why she had done this thing, why she had said that, and
why she had repulsed him without explanation, when there was
unmistakable preference for him in her unstudied acts. He held his
peace and waited for her to proceed. Meanwhile Rachel suffered
cruelly. She had no thought in her mind concerning her conduct toward
him. It was the shameful event of the morning, which must be told to
explain her presence before Athor, that made her cover her crimson face
at last. Kenkenes silenced the protests of his gallantry, and drawing
her hands away, lifted her face on the tips of his fingers and waited.

While they stood thus, Deborah, exhausted and praying, staggered into
the inclosure.

"Rachel!" she panted. "The serving-men--thou art pursued!" The fat
courier, purple of countenance and breathing hard, appeared in the
opening. Rachel shrank against Kenkenes and Deborah dropped on her
knees between the pair and the servitor.

"Out of the way, hag!" the man puffed. "Let me at yon slave. Out!"
He struck at Deborah with a short mace but Kenkenes caught his arm and
thrust him aside.

"Go, go back to the camp," he said to the old woman. "No harm shall
befall Rachel." Raising her, he put her behind him, and advanced
toward the courier.

"Hast thou words with me?" he said coolly. "What wilt thou?"

"The girl. Give her up!"

"Nay, but thou art peremptory. What wilt thou with her?"

"For the harem of the Pharaoh's chief adviser," the man retorted.

The blood in Kenkenes' veins seemed to become molten; flashes of fierce
light blinded him and his sinews hardened into iron. He bounded
forward and his fingers buried themselves in soft and heated flesh.

The first glimm