Of the ensuing day, Kenkenes had no very distinct memory. Very fair
and beautiful, one recollection remained--a recollection of another
figure on the eminence, and by the flash of white upthrown arms, and
the blowing of a somber cloud of hair, this time it was a woman. How
the morning sun glittered on the shaken timbrel; how the spotless
draperies went wild in the wind; how the group of lissome maidens on
the sand below wound in and out, in a mazy dance; how the multitude was
swept into transports of beatification; how the men became prophets and
the women, psalmists; how the vast wilderness reverberated with a great
chant of exultation--all this he remembered as a sublime dream.

Thereafter, Israel moved inland and down the coast some distance, for
the sea began to surrender its dead. Of the stir and method of the
removal he did not remember, but of the encampment and the reassembling
of the tribes he recalled several incidents. He was numb and
sleep-heavy beyond words, and while leaning, in a semi-conscious
condition, against some household goods, he was discovered by the
owner, who was none other than the friendly son of Judah, his assistant
in his search for Rachel in Pa-Ramesu. The man's honest joy over
Kenkenes' safety was good to look upon. A few words of explanation
concerning his very apparent exhaustion were fruitful of some comfort
to the young Egyptian. The Hebrew's wife had a motherly heart, and the
weary face of the comely youth touched it. Therefore, she brought him
bread and wine and made him a place in the shadow of her
tent-furnishings where he might sleep till what time the family shelter
could be raised.

But Kenkenes did not rest. He fell asleep only to dream of Rachel, and
awoke asking himself why he had abandoned the search for her; why he
had left Egypt without her; and why he had not gone to Moses at once
for aid to further his seeking through Israel.

He arose from his place, sick with all the old suspense and heartache.
He would begin now to look for Rachel and cease not till he found her
or died of his weariness.

He stepped forth directly in the path of a party of women. He moved
aside to give them room, and glancing at the foremost, recognized her
immediately as the Lady Miriam. She stopped and looked at him.

"Thou art he who found Jehovah in Egypt?" she asked.

He bowed in assent.

"Thy faith is entire," she commented. "Also, have I cause to remember
thee. Thou did