Hornecht, commander of the archers, was among the prophet’s companions.
Indeed they were on terms of intimacy, for the soldier was a leader amid
the nobles who had conspired to dethrone Pharaoh.
As they approached Nun’s ruined dwelling, the prophet pointed to the
wreck and said: “The former owner of this abode is the only Hebrew
I would gladly spare. He was a man of genuine worth, and his son,
Hosea....”
“Will be one of us,” the captain interrupted. “There are few better men
in Pharaoh’s army, and,” he added, lowering his voice, “I rely on him
when the decisive hour comes.”
“We will discuss that before fewer witnesses,” replied Bai. “But I am
greatly indebted to him. During the Libyan war--you are aware of the
fact--I fell into the hands of the enemy, and Hosea, at the head of his
little troop, rescued me from the savage hordes.” Sinking his tones, he
went on in his most instructive manner, as though apologizing for the
mischief wrought: “Such is the course of earthly affairs! Where a whole
body of men merit punishment, the innocent must suffer with the guilty.
Under such circumstances the gods themselves cannot separate the
individual from the multitude; nay, even the innocent animals share the
penalty. Look at the flocks of doves fluttering around the ruins; they
are seeking their cotes in vain. And the cat with her kittens yonder.
Go and take them, Beki; it is our duty to save the sacred animals from
starving to death.”
And this man, who had just been planning the destruction of so many of
his fellow-mortals, was so warmly interested in kindly caring for the
senseless beasts, that he stopped his litter and watched his servants
catch the cats.
This was less quickly accomplished than he had hoped; for one had taken
refuge in the nearest cellar, whose opening was too narrow for the men
to follow. The youngest, a slender Nubian, undertook the task; but he
had scarcely approached the hole when he started back, calling: “There
is a human being there who seems to be alive. Yes, he is raising his
hand. It is a boy or a youth, and assuredly no slave; his head is
covered with long waving locks, and--a sunbeam is shining into the
cellar--I can see a broad gold circlet on his arm.”
“Perhaps it is one of Nun’s kindred, who has been forgotten,” said
Hornecht, and Bai eagerly added:
“It is an interposition from the gods! Their sacred animals have pointed
out the way by which I can render a service to the man to whom I am so
much indebted. Try to get in, Beki, and bring the youth out.”
Meanwhile the Nubian had removed the stone whose fall had choked the
opening, and soon after he lifted toward his companions a motionless
young form which they brought into the open air and bore to a well whose
cool water speedily restored consciousness.
As he regained his senses, he rubbed his eyes, gazed around him
bewildered, as if uncertain where he was, then his head drooped as
though overwhelmed with grief and horror, revealing that the locks at
the back were matted together with black clots of dried blood.
The prophet had the deep wound, inflicted on the lad by a falling stone,
washed at the well and, after it had been bandaged, summoned him to his
own litter, which was protected from the sun.
The young Hebrew, bringing a message, had arrived at the house of his
grandfather Nun, before sunrise, after a long night walk from Pithom,
called by the Hebrews Succoth, but finding it deserted had lain down in
one of the rooms to rest a while. Roused by the shouts of the infuriated
mob, he had heard the curses on his race which rang through the whole
quarter and fled to the cellar. The roof, which had injured him in its
fall, proved his deliverance; for the clouds of dust which had concealed
everything as it came down hid him from the sight of the rioters.
The prophet looked at him intently and, though the youth was unwashed,
wan, and disfigured by the bloody bandage round his head, he saw that
the lad he had recalled to life was a handsome, well-grown boy just
nearing manhood.
His sympathy was roused, and his stern glance softened as he asked
kindly whence he came and what had brought him to Tanis; for the
rescued youth’s features gave no clue to his race. He might readily
have declared himself an Egyptian, but he frankly admitted that he was a
grandson of Nun. He had just attained his eighteenth year, his name was
Ephraim, like that of his forefather, the son of Joseph, and he had come
to visit his grandfather. The words expressed steadfast self-respect and
pride in his illustrious ancestry.
He delayed a short time ere answering the question whether he brought
a message; but soon collected his thoughts and, looking the prophet
fearlessly in the face, replied:
“Whoever you may be, I have been taught to speak the truth, so I will
tell you that I have another relative in Tanis, Hosea, the son of Nun, a
chief in Pharaoh’s army, for whom I have a message.”
“And I will tell you,” the priest replied, “that it was for the sake of
this very Hosea I tarried here and ordered my servants to bring you out
of the ruined house. I owe him a debt of gratitude, and though most of
your nation have committed deeds worthy of the harshest punishment, for
the sake of his worth you shall remain among us free and unharmed.”
The boy raised his eyes to the priest with a proud, fiery glance, but
ere he could find words, Bai went on with encouraging kindness.
“I believe I can read in your face, my lad, that you have come to seek
admittance to Pharaoh’s army under your uncle Hosea. Your figure is
well-suited to the trade of war, and you surely are not wanting in
courage.”
A smile of flattered vanity rested on Ephraim’s lips, and toying with
the broad gold bracelet on his arm, perhaps unconsciously, he replied
with eagerness:
“Ay, my lord, I have often proved my courage in the hunting field; but
at home we have plenty of sheep and cattle, which even now I call my
own, and it seems to me a more enviable lot to wander freely and rule
the shepherds than to obey the commands of others.”
“Aha!” said the priest. “Perhaps Hosea may instil different and better
views. To rule--a lofty ambition for youth. The misfortune is that we
who have attained it are but servants whose burdens grow heavier with
the increasing number of those who obey us. You understand me, Hornecht,
and you, my lad, will comprehend my meaning later, when you become the
palm-tree the promise of your youth foretells. But we are losing time.
Who sent you to Hosea?”
The youth cast down his eyes irresolutely, but when the prophet broke
the silence with the query: “And what has become of the frankness you
were taught?” he responded promptly and resolutely:
“I came for the sake of a woman whom you know not.”
“A woman?” the prophet repeated, casting an enquiring glance at
Hornecht. “When a bold warrior and a fair woman seek each other, the
Hathors--[The Egyptian goddesses of love, who are frequently represented
with cords in their hands,]--are apt to appear and use the binding
cords; but it does not befit a servant of the divinity to witness such
goings on, so I forbear farther questioning. Take charge of the lad,
captain, and aid him to deliver his message to Hosea. The only doubt is
whether he is in the city.”
“No,” the soldier answered, “but he is expected with thousands of his
men at the armory to-day.”
“Then may the Hathors, who are partial to love messengers, bring these
two together to-morrow at latest,” said the priest.
But the lad indignantly retorted: “I am the bearer of no love message.”
The prophet, pleased with the bold rejoinder, answered pleasantly: “I
had forgotten that I was accosting a young shepherd-prince.” Then he
added in graver tones: “When you have found Hosea, greet him from me and
tell him that Bai, the second prophet of Amon sought to discharge a part
of the debt of gratitude he owed for his release from the hands of the
Libyans by extending his protection to you, his nephew. Perhaps, my
brave boy, you do not know that you have escaped as if by a miracle a
double peril; the savage populace would no more have spared your life
than would the stifling dust of the falling houses. Remember this, and
tell Hosea also from me, Bai, that I am sure when he beholds the woe
wrought by the magic arts of one of your race on the house of Pharaoh,
to which he vowed fealty, and with it on this city and the whole
country, he will tear himself with abhorrence from his kindred. They
have fled like cowards, after dealing the sorest blows, robbing of
their dearest possessions those among whom they dwelt in peace, whose
protection they enjoyed, and who for long years have given them work and
ample food. All this they have done and, if I know him aright, he will
turn his back upon men who have committed such crimes. Tell him also
that this has been voluntarily done by the Hebrew officers and men under
the command of the Syrian Aarsu. This very morning--Hosea will have
heard the news from other sources--they offered sacrifices not only to
Baal and Seth, their own gods, whom so many of you were ready to serve
ere the accursed sorcerer, Mesu, seduced you, but also to Father Amon
and the sacred nine of our eternal deities. If he will do the same, we
will rise hand in hand to the highest place, of that he may be sure--and
well he merits it. The obligation still due him I shall gratefully
discharge in other ways, which must for the present remain secret. But
you may tell your uncle now from me that I shall find means to protect
Nun, his noble father, when the vengeance of the gods and of Pharaoh
falls upon the rest of your race. Already--tell him this also--the sword
is whetted, and a pitiless judgment is impending. Bid him ask himself
what fugitive shepherds can do against the power of the army among whose
ablest leaders he is numbered. Is your father still alive, my son?”
“No, he was borne to his last resting-place long ago,” replied the youth
in a faltering voice.
Was the fever of his wound attacking him? Or did the shame of belonging
to a race capable of acts so base overwhelm the young heart? Or did the
lad cling to his kindred, and was it wrath and resentment at hearing
them so bitterly reviled which made his color vary from red to pale and
roused such a tumult in his soul that he was scarcely capable of speech?
No matter! This lad was certainly no suitable bearer of the message the
prophet desired to send to his uncle, and Bai beckoned to Hornecht to
come with him under the shadow of a broad-limbed sycamore-tree.
The point was to secure Hosea’s services in the army at any cost, so he
laid his hand on his friend’s shoulder, saying:
“You know that it was my wife who won you and others over to our cause.
She serves us better and more eagerly than many a man, and while I
appreciate your daughter’s beauty, she never tires of lauding the
winning charm of her innocence.”
“And Kasana is to take part in the plot?” cried the soldier angrily.
“Not as an active worker, like my wife,--certainly not.”
“She would be ill-suited to such a task,” replied the other in a calmer
tone, “she is scarcely more than a child.”
“Yet through her aid we might bring to our cause a man whose good-will
seems to me priceless.”
“You mean Hosea?” asked the captain, his brow darkening again, but the
prophet added:
“And if I do? Is he still a real Hebrew? Can you deem it unworthy the
daughter of a distinguished warrior to bestow her band on a man who, if
our plans prosper, will be commander-in-chief of all the troops in the
land?”
“No, my lord!” cried Hornecht. “But one of my motives for rebelling
against Pharaoh and upholding Siptah is that the king’s mother was
a foreigner, while our own blood courses through Siptah’s veins. The
mother decides the race to which a man belongs, and Hosea’s mother was
a Hebrew woman. He is my friend, I value his talents; Kasana likes
him....”
“Yet you desire a more distinguished son-in-law?” interrupted his
companion. “How is our arduous enterprise to prosper, if those who are
to peril their lives for its success consider the first sacrifice too
great? You say that your daughter favors Hosea?”
“Yes, she did care for him,” the soldier answered; “yes, he was her
heart’s desire. But I compelled her to obey me, and now that she is a
widow, am I to give her to the man whom--the gods alone know with how
much difficulty--I forced her to resign? When was such an act heard of
in Egypt?”
“Ever since the men and women who dwell by the Nile have submitted, for
the sake of a great cause, to demands opposed to their wishes,” replied
the priest.
“Consider all this, and remember that Hosea’s ancestress--he boasted of
it in your own presence--was an Egyptian, the daughter of a man of my
own class.”
“How many generations have passed to the tomb since?”
“No matter! It brings us into closer relations with him. That must
suffice. Farewell until this evening. Meanwhile, will you extend your
hospitality to Hosea’s nephew and commend him to your fair daughter’s
nursing; he seems in sore need of care.”