Much hath she suffered at Egypt's hands, and her tongue grows
harsh when she speaks of the oppression."

"Nay, but let me go," Masanath begged. "Where are my servants? Came
they not after me when I fled?"

"None followed thee, Lady, and thy raft went adrift."

"Let me out of this hideous place, then, for I must seek them. They
may be dead."

Her tone was imperious, and Rachel, silently obedient, led her to the
entrance and pushed aside the door. Instantly the terrible turmoil
over Egypt smote upon her ears; next she saw the Nile, moving slowly,
black where its clear surfaces had been green, scarlet and froth-ridden
where the sun had shone upon transparent ripples and white foam; after
that, the strange odor came to her, recalling the smell of the altars,
but now magnified till it was overpoweringly strong. She sickened and
turned away.

Setting the door in place, Rachel led her back into a corner of the
outer chamber and laid her down on the matting there.

"The Lord God will care for thy servants. Fret thyself no further, but
be content here until the horror shall pass. I shall attend thee, so
thou shalt not miss their ministrations." The Israelite spoke with
gentle authority, smoothing the dark hair of her guest. Command in the
form of persuasion is doubly effective, since it induces while it
compels. Masanath was most amenable to this manner of entreaty, since
it disarmed her pride while it governed her impulses. Thus, though her
inclination urged against it, she ate when the Israelite brought her a
bit of cold fowl and a beaker of wine at midday and again at sunset.
And at night, she slept because the Israelite told her she was safe and
bade her close her eyes.

But once she awoke. The lamp burned behind a wooden amphora rack and
the interior of the stone chamber was not dark. The voice in the inner
chamber was still and the human-eyed beast in the corner was now only a
small hairy roll. In the silence she would have been dismayed, but
close beside her sat the Israelite. One hand toyed absently with the
golden rings of a collar about her throat. The face was averted, the
hair unplaited and falling in a shower of bright ripples over the bosom
and down the back. The beauty of the picture impressed itself on
Masanath, in spite of her drowsiness. But as well as the beauty, the
dejection in the droop of the head, the unhappiness on the face, were
apparent even in the dusk. Here was sorrow--th