a mission
which concerned all the living who were dear to him. Furthermore the
sky was threatening, the desert was a terrible place during high winds,
and he dared not delay.

Suddenly a thought struck him. Travelers and sea-faring men had told
him that there were settlements along the Red Sea. Might he not go
forward, on his way after Israel, till he found one of these?

He led the largest horse past the dead servitors, and persuading it to
stand, lifted the body of Atsu upon its back. With difficulty he
mounted, and supporting the limp burden with one arm, turned again
toward the southeast.

As he went forward, Kenkenes meditated on the signs of this recent and
tragic event. He had searched throughout the length and breadth of
Goshen for Rachel and none had seen her or heard of her since she had
fled from Har-hat into the desert, eight months before he had seen her
last. Israel was more ignorant of the whereabouts of Rachel than he.
He could not tell whether Har-hat knew where she was, nor could he
guess from the position of the fighters in which direction the servants
had meant to ride. The tracks of their horses were not to be
discovered in the great trampled roadway Israel had made.

Of this thing Kenkenes was sure. If Rachel were with Israel she had
joined it after he had left Goshen. In that case he was going to her,
to ask after her safety, when he inquired after all Israel. If she
were still in Egypt he would stop Har-hat's search for ever. This
recollection added to his determination and intensified his zeal.

At the beginning of the great fields of sea-grass he came upon a little
hamlet. It was a considerable distance inland, and the chief industry
of the people could have been only the gathering of sedge for hay, or
the curing of herb and root for medicines. Some of the villagers were
in sight but the most of them were out in the direction of the lakes,
laboring in the marsh grass.

In the course of the past year's events Kenkenes had learned to be a
cautious and skilful fugitive. He did not care to be caught and taxed
with the death of the man whose body he bore. The village shrine was
the structure nearest to him. It was built of sun-dried brick, with
three walls, the fourth side open to the sunrise. Kenkenes dismounted
and reconnoitered. The shrine was empty, and none of the villagers was
near.

He lifted the dead man from the horse and bore the body into the
sanctuary. Before