ity of Goshen at first with the
natural delight loveliness inspires, and then with as much savage
resentment as his young soul could feel. Belting this garden and
stretching for seven hundred miles to the south, was Egypt, desolate,
barren and comatose. The God of the Hebrews had avenged them fearfully.

"They had provocation," he muttered to himself; "but they have overdone
their vengeance."

A figure appeared on the road over the comb of a slight ridge, and Seti
regarded the wayfarer with interest.

He was a Hebrew. His draperies were loose, voluminous, heavily
fringed, and of such silky texture of linen that they flowed in the
light wind. His head was covered with a wide kerchief, which was bound
with a cord, and hid the forehead.

He was of good stature and upright, but his drapings were so ample that
the structure of his frame was not discernible. His eyes were black,
bright and young in their alertness, but the beard that rippled over
his breast to his girdle was as white as the foam of the Middle Sea.

The Hebrew walked in the grass by the roadside and came on, his face
expectant. At sight of the prince he stepped into the roadway. Seti
drew up.

"Thou art Seti-Meneptah?" the ancient wayfarer asked.

"Even so," the prince answered.

The Hebrew put back his kerchief and stood uncovered.

"Dost thou know me, my son?" he asked.

"Thou art that Aaron, of the able tongue, brother to Mesu. Camest thou
forth to meet me?"

The Hebrew readjusted the kerchief.

"Thou hast said."

"Wast thou, then, so impatient? Where is thy brother?"

"Nay. The village of image-makers is not safe. Moses hath departed
for Zoan." [1]

"And named thee in his stead. But his mission to my father's capital
bodes no good. He might have stayed until I could have persuaded him
into friendship."

"Not with all thy gold!" said Aaron gravely.

"Nay, I had not meant that," Seti rejoined with some resentment. "If
Egypt's plight can not win mercy from him by its own piteousness, the
treasure I bring is not enough."

The Hebrew waved his hand as if to dismiss the subject.

"Let us not dispute so old a quarrel," he said. "We have a new sorrow,
thou and I."

"Of Mesu's sending?"

"Nay, of thine own misplaced trust."

"What!" the prince exclaimed. "Have I clothed thy kinsman with more
grace than he owns?"

"Thou hast put faith in thine enemy. A woman hath deceived thee."

"What dost thou tell me?" Seti cried,