d is not greatly hurt," Amuba said. "By
her dress it seems to me that she is an Israelite, though I thought we
had left their land behind us on the other side of the desert. Still
her dress resembles those of the women we saw in the village as we
passed, and it is well for her it does so, for they wear more and
thicker garments than the Egyptian peasant women, and the brute's
teeth may not have torn her severely."

In a few minutes one of the women came out and told them that the maid
had now recovered and that she was almost unhurt. "The crocodile seems
to have seized her by her garments rather than her flesh, and although
the teeth have bruised her, the skin is unbroken. Her grandfather
would fain thank you for the service you have rendered him."

They re-entered the cottage. The girl was sitting on the ground at her
grandfather's feet holding one of his hands in hers, while with his
other he was stroking her head. As they entered, the women, seeing
that their services were no longer required, left the cottage.

"Who are those to whom I owe the life of my grandchild?" the old man
asked.

"I am Chebron, the son of Ameres, the high priest of the temple of
Osiris at Thebes. These are my friends, Amuba and Jethro, two of the
Rebu nation who were brought to Egypt and now live in my father's
household."

"We are his servants," Amuba said, "though he is good enough to call
us his friends."

"'Tis strange," the old man said, "that the son of a priest of Osiris
should thus come to gladden the last few hours of one who has always
withstood the Egyptian gods. And yet had the crocodile carried off my
Ruth, it might have been better for her, seeing that ere the sun has
risen and set many times she will be alone in the world."

The girl uttered a little cry, and rising on her knees threw her arms
round the old man's neck.

"It must be so, my Ruth. I have lived a hundred and ten years in this
land of the heathen, and my course is run; and were it not for your
sake I should be glad that it is so, for my life has been sorrow and
bitterness. I call her my grandchild, but she is in truth the daughter
of my grandchild, and all who stood between her and me have passed
away before me and left us alone together. But she trusts in the God
of Abraham, and he will raise up a protector for her."

Chebron, who had learned something of the traditions of the Israelites
dwelling in Egypt, saw by the old man's words that Jethro's surmises