The Yoke Part 59

"Are ye lepers?" she asked in a frightened voice.

"Nay, we are fugitives," Rachel answered.

"Fugitives! What strait brought you to seek such asylum as this?"

Again a speaking pause.

"Who art thou, Lady?" Rachel asked, at last.

"I am Masanath, daughter of Har-hat, fan-bearer to the Pharaoh."

"And thou art a friend of the oppressed?" the Israelite continued.

"It is my boast before the G.o.ds," the Egyptian answered with dignity.

"I am Rachel, of Israel, daughter of Maai, and I have fled from shame.

In all Egypt, this is the one and only refuge for such as I. If my hiding-place were published, no help could save me from the despoiler.

My one protector is she who lies within. She is my foster-mother, old and ill from abuse at the hands of brutal servants. Thou hast my story."

As Rachel ceased, Deborah called from within.

"There is more," she said. "Come hither. I am moved to tell thee."

Masanath obeyed with hesitation and, pausing in the doorway of the inner chamber, heard the story of the Israelites. Great was her perplexity and her sorrow when she heard the name of Kenkenes spoken calmly and without grief. They did not know he was dead! She held her peace till the story was done, How much more would her heart have been tortured could the old woman have given her the name of the offending n.o.ble! Instead, all unsuspecting, she heard the story of Har-hat's wrong-doing with now and then an exclamation of indignation, condemning him heartily in her soul.

"The time for the Egyptian's return is long past, but he will come soon," Deborah concluded.

Masanath slowly turned her head and looked at Rachel. This, then, was the love of that dear, dead artist, for whom Memphis mourned and had ceased to wait. How doubly grievous his loss, for Rachel was undone thereby! How heart-breaking to see her wait for him who would come no more! Masanath choked back her tears and said, when she was composed again:

"Ye need not molder in this cave, I can hide you in Memphis."

"Nay, we will await him here."

"But the Nile will be upon your refuge in three weeks. Ye would starve if ye drowned not," the Egyptian protested earnestly.

"It may be we shall not wait so long," Rachel put in.

Masanath looked at her while she thought busily. "If I tell it, I break a heart. But if they bide here, they die. None other will come to them by chance or on purpose."

"I would not risk it," she answered. Returning to the pallet of matting she finished her breakfast in silence. After a little sigh she glanced at the wine in one of the small amphoras which Rachel had brought to her as a drinking-cup. "Mayhap the plague is past," she said, hinting, "and I am athirst."

Rachel took up another jar and went forth. The hairy creature in the corner, tethered to the amphora rack, slipped his collar and followed her.

As soon as the Israelite was gone, Masanath went into the inner chamber. Standing by the old woman, who lay upon a mattress, set on the top of the sarcophagus, she said hurriedly:

"Ye may not remain here. Kenkenes is known to me and he will not return."

"Thou dost not tell me he was false to us," Deborah exclaimed. "Nay, I will not believe it," she declared.

"Nay, he was the soul of honor, but he is dead."

"Dead!" the old woman cried, catching at her dress.

"Hush! Tell her not!"

"Aye, thou art right. Tell her not! But--but how did he die?"

"By drowning. His boat was discovered battered and overturned among the wharf-piling at Memphis, some weeks agone."

The old woman was silent for a moment and then she shook her head.

"He is a resourceful youth and he may have procured another boat and set this one adrift to deceive his enemies. Yet, the time has been so long, it may be; it may be."

"None in Memphis doubts it. His father hath given him up and his house and his people are in mourning. But we may not lose this moment in surmises. Wilt thou go with me into Memphis--if this sending is withdrawn?"

"There is no other choice," Deborah answered after some pondering.

"Kenkenes offered us refuge with his father--alas! that the young man should die!" After shaking her head and muttering to herself in her own tongue, she went on. "But Rachel hesitated to accept, at first from maiden shyness, though now she hath a secret fear, I doubt not, that the Egyptian may have played her false. The sorry news must be told her ere she would go."

"Nay, keep it from her yet a while. Tell her not now."

"How may we?" Deborah asked helplessly.

"Listen. I am a householder in Memphis for a year. The place is secure from much visiting and only my trusted servants are there. They will not tell her--none else will--thou and I shall keep discreet tongues, but if the fact creep out, in the way of such things, we need not accuse ourselves of killing her hope. As thou sayest, the young man may not be dead. But let us not risk anything.

"And furthermore," she caught up the line of her talk before Deborah could answer, "I may as well work good out of an evil I can not escape.

I am betrothed to the heir of the crown of Egypt--"

Deborah flung up her hand, drawing away in her amazement.

"Thou! A coming queen over the proud land of Mizraim--a guest in the retreat of enslaved Israel!"

Masanath bent her head. "Ye, in your want and distress, are not more poor or wretched than I."

The old Israelite's brilliant eyes glittered in the dark.

"Hold!" she exclaimed. "Thou art not a slave--"

"Nay, am I not?" Masanath rejoined swiftly. "A slave, a chattel, doubly enthralled! But enough of this, I would have said that if I wed the prince, I can ask Rachel's freedom at his hands."

"So thou canst," Deborah said eagerly--but before she could continue, Rachel appeared at the outer opening, the amphora held by one arm, the ape by the other. Her face was alight with a smile that seemed dangerously akin to tears.

"Here is water, clean and fresh, but the Nile is bank-full of the plague. It was Anubis that showed me!" She lowered the amphora into the rack and took up the linen band the ape had slipped. "Oh, it is ungrateful to tie thee, Anubis," she went on, "but thou must not betray us, thou good creature."

"It was Anubis!" Deborah repeated inquiringly.

"Aye. Not once did the hideous sight disturb him. He was athirst and he made me a well in the sand with his paws. See how Jehovah hath sent us succor by humble hands." She stroked the hairy grotesque and tethered him reluctantly.

Deborah muttered under her breath. "I liked the creature not, since he made me think of the abominable idolatries of Mizraim, but he hath served the oppressed. He shall be more endurable to me."