The Yoke Part 66

"Tell him where Kenkenes went!"

The Egyptian leaned over the parapet. "Fie! he is gone!" she said.

"Nay, but I shall catch him;" and flying down through the house, out into the narrow pa.s.sage, she overtook the murket.

This is what she told Rachel when she returned:

"I said to him: 'My Lord, I know where Kenkenes went.' And he said: 'Of a truth?' in the calmest way. 'Aye,' said I. 'It hath come to mine ears that he went to Tape,' 'That have I known for long,' he answered, after he had looked at me till I wished I were away. 'That have I known for long, and why he went and why he came not back,' and having said, he smoothed my hair and told me I was not much like my father, and departed without another word. To my mind he hath conducted himself most strangely. I doubt not he knows more than you or I, Rachel."

To Masanath's dismay the Israelite flung herself face down on the rugs and wept. "He is not dead; he is not dead," she cried.

The collapse of a composure so strong and bridled filled Masanath with consternation. Had Rachel's spirit been of weaker fiber the Egyptian's own forceful individuality would have longed to sustain it, but when it broke in its strength she knew that here was a stress of emotion too deep for her to soothe.

"Then if he is not dead," she said, searching for something to say, "why weepest thou?"

"Alas! seest thou not, Masanath? He hath not returned to me; his father knows his story, and if he be not dead how shall I explain his absence save that he hath forgotten or repented?"

"Not so!" Masanath declared. "He is the soul of honor, and there is a mystery in this that the G.o.ds may explain in time. Comfort thee, Rachel, for there stirreth a hope in me." Then with the utmost tact she told the story of the finding of Kenkenes' boat and the theory accepted in Memphis.

"I can offer thee hope," she concluded, "but I can not even guess what should keep him so long. Of this be a.s.sured, however, he did not desert thee, Rachel."

Enigmatical as it was, the incident was comforting to Rachel.

So the Nile rose and subsided, the winter came and went, and now it was near the middle of March, Masanath forgot Kenkenes and remembered her own sorrow now that its consummation was surely approaching. During the hours that darkened gradually Rachel was to her an ever-responsive comforter. Even in the dead of night, if the weight of her care burdened her dreams so that she stirred or murmured, she was instantly soothed till she slept again. Usually the day did not hara.s.s her with oppression, but if she grew suddenly afraid, Rachel was at her side to comfort her--never urging, either to rebellion or submission, but ever offering hope.

So the little Egyptian came to love the Israelite with the love that demands rather than gives--the love of a child for the mother, of the benefited for the benefactor. Gradually Rachel lost sight of her own trouble in her devotion to Masanath. She had no time for her own thoughts. Each pa.s.sing day brought the Egyptian's martyrdom nearer, and Rachel's uses hourly increased.

This day Masanath, who had been ill, was unusually downcast.

"It may be," she said with more cheer in her tones than had been in her previous remarks, "that I shall die before they can wed me to Rameses."

"Nay, why not say that the Lord G.o.d will interfere before that time?"

"Evil and power have joined hands against me, and even the G.o.ds are helpless against such collusion," Masanath answered drearily.

"The sorrows of Egypt are not yet at an end; mayhap the hand of the G.o.d of Israel will overtake the prince."

"Thy G.o.d is afflicting, not helping; He will not spare me."

"The hand of the Lord is lifted against Egypt. Will He bless the land, then, with such a queen as thou wouldst be?"

"Nay, but thine is a strange G.o.d! Mark thou, I doubt Him not! But ai!

I should face Him for ever in sackcloth and ashes lest He smite me for smiling and living my life without care."

"Hath an ill befallen Israel?"

"If thou art Israel, nay! Thou hast flourished in this dread time like a palm by a deep well."

"So he prospereth all his chosen."

Masanath shook her head and looked away. From the stairway Nan approached.

"Unas hath come from Tanis, my Lady," she said with suppressed excitement. Masanath sat up, trembling.

"Isis grant he hath not come to take thee to marriage," the waiting woman breathed. Rachel laid an inquiring hand on the little Egyptian's arm.

"My father's courier," she explained. "Let him come up," she continued to Nari. The waiting woman bowed and left her.

Rachel arose and took a place on the farther side of the hypostyle, with the screens of matting between her and Masanath. She was still in hiding.

The fat servitor came up presently.

"The gracious G.o.ds have had thee under their sheltering wings during these troublous times," he said, bowing. "It is worth the trip from Tanis to look upon thee."

"Thy words are fair, Unas. How is it with my father?" Masanath asked with stiff lips.

"The G.o.ds are good to the Pharaoh. They permit the wise Har-hat to continue in health to render service to his sovereign."

Masanath, dreading the news, asked after it at once. Men have killed themselves for fear of death.

"Thou hast come to conduct me to court?"

"That is the gracious will of my master."

Masanath half rose from her seat. "When?" she asked almost inaudibly.

"In twenty days; no more. I have a mission to perform and shall go hence immediately. But I shall return in twenty days, never fear, my Lady."

Masanath saw that he mocked her. Her wrath was an effective counter-irritant for her trouble. She was calm again.

"Then, if thy message is delivered, go!"

He backed out and descended the stairway.

When she was sure he was gone she flung herself, in a paroxysm of wild grief and despair, face down on her cushions. At that moment a cold hand caught her arm. She looked up and saw Rachel. All the blue had gone from the Israelite's eyes, leaving them black with dreadful conviction. The color had receded from her cheeks and her figure was rigid.

"Who was that man?" she demanded in a voice low with concentrated emotion.

"Unas, my father's man. What is amiss, Rachel?"

The Israelite stood for a moment as though she permitted the intelligence to a.s.semble all the further facts that it entailed. Then she turned away and walked swiftly toward the well of the stair.

"Rachel! Thou--what--thou hast not answered me," Masanath called.

"There is naught to be said. I--it were best that I go to my people now, since thou goest to marriage," was the unready reply.

"Thou wilt return to thy people! Rachel! Nay, nay I Thou art all I have. Come back! Come back!" Masanath cried, running after her.

Rachel hesitated, trembling with a mult.i.tude of emotions.