CAPTIVE.
So confident were the Rebu that if the Egyptians dug through their
walls, or even threw them down by undermining them, they could repel
their assault, that they took but little heed to the huts established
at the foot of the wall, except that a strong body of men were
stationed behind the walls, half of whom were always to be under arms
in readiness to repel the Egyptians should they burrow through. This
confidence proved their ruin. The Egyptians were thoroughly accustomed
to mining operations, and were fully aware that were they to pierce
the wall the Rebu could at once overwhelm the small working parties;
they, therefore, after penetrating a considerable distance into the
embankment, drove right and left, making an excavation of considerable
size, the roof being supported by beams and planks hauled up at night.
The number of those employed in the work was increased as fast as
there was room for them; and while the Rebu thought that there were at
most a dozen men in each of the sheltered places, there were, at the
end of twenty-four hours, fully two hundred men at work in the heart
of the embankment at each point. The Egyptian king had ordered the
chief of his engineers to have everything in readiness for the capture
of the city by the end of the third day.
Each night the numbers of workmen increased, while the excavations
were carried in further and further. No picks were used in the work,
the earth being cut away with wide daggers. Absolute silence was
enjoined among the workers, and they were thus enabled to extend their
excavations close to the surface without the defenders having an idea
of their proximity. The distance that they were from the inner face
was ascertained by boring through at night-time with spears. By the
end of the third day the excavations had been carried so far that
there was but a foot or so of earth remaining, this being kept from
moving, on pressure from the outside, by a lining of boards supported
by beams. Thus at twenty points the Egyptians were in readiness to
burst through among the unsuspecting defenders.
As soon as it was dark the preparations for the assault began. Great
numbers of stagings of vast length had been prepared, together with an
immense number of broad and lofty ladders. These last were brought
forward noiselessly to the foot of the cliff, and great numbers of the
Egyptians mounted before the alarm was given by those on the walls.
But by this time the excavations were all crowded with men. The
Egyptian army now advanced with shouts to the assault. The great
stages were brought forward by the labor of thousands of men and
placed against the cliff.
The besieged had now rushed to defend the walls, and volleys of
missiles of all sorts were poured down upon the Egyptians as they
strove to mount the ladders and stages. No one thought of any possible
danger from the little shelters lying at the foot of the wall, and the
din was so great that the work of digging through the remaining wall
of earth was unheard. The troops who had been specially told off to
watch these points had joined their comrades on the walls, and none
marked the stream of dark figures which presently began to pour out
from the embankment at twenty different points.
At last the besieged, whose hopes were rising as the Egyptians
appeared to falter under the showers of missiles poured down, were
startled by the sound of a trumpet in their rear--a sound which was
answered instantly from a score of points. Rushing with cries of
dismay to the back of the rampart, they saw dark bodies of footmen
drawn up in regular order, and a rain of arrows was opened upon them.
The Rebu, without a moment’s hesitation, rushed down to attack the
foes who had gained a footing, they scarce knew how, in their
fortress. But each of the Egyptian companies was four hundred strong,
composed of picked troops, and these for a time easily beat off the
irregular attacks of the Rebu.
Amusis and the other leaders of the Rebu strove to get their men into
solid order, for so alone could they hope to break the phalanxes of
the Egyptians; but the confusion was too great. In the meantime the
Egyptians outside had taken advantage of the diversion created by
the attack within, and poured up their ladders and stagings in vast
numbers. Some dragging up ladders after them planted them against the
walls, others poured through by the passages which had been dug, and
these, as soon as they were numerous enough, ascended the embankments
from behind and fell upon the Rebu still defending the wall.
Never did the tribesmen fight with greater bravery; but the
completeness of the surprise, the number of the Egyptians who had
established themselves in their rear, the constant pushing in of
reinforcements both through and over the wall, rendered it impossible
for them to retrieve their fortunes; and in the confusion and darkness
they were unable to distinguish friend from foe. The various
battalions and companies were hopelessly mixed together; the orders
of their leaders and officers were unheard in the din.
Upon the Egyptian side everything had been carefully planned. One of
the companies which first entered had made their way quietly along the
foot of the wall, and were not noticed until they suddenly threw
themselves upon defenders of one of the gates. As soon as they had
obtained possession of this, great fires were lighted, and a large
body of Egyptian troops, headed by engineers carrying beams and
planks, advanced. The gaps across the roadway were bridged over, and
the Egyptians poured in at the gate before the Rebu could dislodge the
party which had taken possession of it. Every moment added to the
confusion of the scene. To the Rebu it seemed as if their foes were
springing from the very earth upon them, and, despairing of regaining
the ground that had been lost, they began to break away and make some
for their homes, some for the water face of the city--the only one
which was open to them, for the Egyptians were now pressing forward
from the three other faces of the town. The boats lying along the sand
were quickly crowded with fugitives and pushed off from shore, and
those who arrived later found all means of escape gone. Some threw
down their arms and made their way to their homes, others ran back to
meet the Egyptians and die fighting.
It was some hours before the conflict ceased, for the Egyptians too
were confused with the darkness, and many desperate fights took place
between different battalions before they discovered they were friends.
Light was gained by firing numbers of the houses lying nearest to the
walls; but as soon as the Egyptians advanced beyond the arc of light
they were fiercely attacked by the Rebu, and at last the trumpet
sounded the order for the troops to remain in the positions they
occupied until daylight.
As soon as morning broke a vast crowd of women were seen advancing
from the center of the town. As they neared the Egyptians they threw
themselves on the ground with loud cries for mercy. There was a pause;
and then some Egyptian officers advanced and bade a score of the women
follow them to the presence of the king. Thotmes had entered with the
troops who made their way into the city by the gate, but yielding to
the entreaties of the officers that he would not expose himself to be
killed in the confusion, perhaps by an arrow shot by his own soldiers,
he had retired to the plain, and had just returned to take part in the
occupation of the city.
The Rebu women were led to him over ground thickly covered with dead.
Fully half the defenders of the city had fallen, while the loss of
the Egyptians had been almost as large. The women threw themselves
on their faces before the great monarch and implored mercy for
themselves, their children, and the remnant of the men of the city.
Thotmes was well satisfied. He had captured a city which was regarded
as impregnable; he had crushed the people who had inflicted defeats
upon his predecessors; he had added to his own glory and to the renown
of the Egyptian arms. The disposition of the Egyptians was lenient.
Human sacrifices were unknown to their religion, and they do not
appear at any time to have slain in cold blood captives taken in war.
Human life was held at a far higher value in Egypt than among any
other nation of antiquity, and the whole teaching of their laws tended
to create a disposition toward mercy.
An interpreter translated to the king the words of the women.
“Has all resistance ceased?” the king asked. “Have all the men laid
down their arms?”
The women exclaimed that there was not now an armed man in the city,
all the weapons having been collected during the night and placed in
piles in the open space in front of the entrance to the palace.
“Then I give to all their lives,” the king said graciously. “When I
fight with cowards I have little mercy upon them, for men who are not
brave are unfit to live; but when I fight with men I treat them as
men. The Rebu are a valiant people, but as well might the jackal fight
with the lion as the Rebu oppose themselves to the might of Egypt.
They fought bravely in the field, and they have bravely defended their
walls; therefore I grant life to all in the city--men, women, and
children. Where is your king?”
“He died in the battle four days since,” the women replied.
“Where is your queen?”
“She drank poison last night, preferring to join her husband than to
survive the capture of the city.”
Thotmes had now ordered the whole of the inhabitants to be taken
out to the plain and kept there under a guard. The town was then
methodically searched and everything of value brought together. The
king set aside a certain portion of the golden vessels for the
services of the Temple, some he chose for himself, and after
presenting others to his generals, ordered the rest to be divided
among the troops. He then ordered a hundred captives--fifty young men
and fifty maidens of the highest rank--to be selected to be taken to
Egypt as slaves, and then fixed the tribute which the Rebu were in
future to pay. The army then evacuated the city and the inhabitants
were permitted to return.
The next day messengers arrived from the other Rebu towns. The fall of
the capital, which had been believed to be impregnable, after so short
a siege had struck terror into the minds of all, and the messengers
brought offers of submission to the king, with promises to pay any
tribute that he might lay upon them.
The king, well satisfied with his success and anxious to return
to Egypt, from which he had been absent nearly two years, replied
graciously to the various deputations, informing them that he had
already fixed the tribute that the nation was to pay annually, and
ordered a contribution to be sent in at once by each city in
proportion to its size. In a few days the required sums, partly
in money, partly in vessels of gold, embroidered robes, and other
articles of value, were brought in. When the full amount had been
received the camp was struck and the army started on their long march
back to Egypt, an officer of high rank being left as governor of the
newly captured province, with ten thousand men as a garrison.
Amuba was one of the fifty selected as slaves. Amusis had escaped in
the confusion, as had many others. Jethro was also one of the selected
band. Amuba was for a time careless of what befell him. The news of
the death of his mother, which had met him as, after fighting to the
last, he returned to the palace, had been a terrible blow, following
as it did so closely upon the loss of his father and the overthrow
of the nation. His mother had left the message for him that although
as life had no longer a charm for her she preferred death to the
humiliation of being carried a prisoner to Egypt, she trusted that he
would bear the misfortunes which had fallen on him and his people with
submission and patience; he was young, and there was no saying what
the future had in store for him.
“You will doubtless, my son,” were the words of her message, “be
carried away captive into Egypt, but you may yet escape some day and
rejoin your people, or may meet with some lot in which you may find
contentment or even happiness there. At any rate, my last words to you
are, bear patiently whatever may befall you, remember always that your
father was king of the Rebu, and whatever your station in life may be,
try to be worthy of the rank to which you were born. There is no
greater happiness on a throne than in a cottage. Men make their own
happiness, and a man may be respected even though only a slave. May
the gods of your country preside over and protect you always.”
The message was delivered by an old woman who had been with the queen
since her birth, and struck down with grief as Amuba was at his
mother’s death, he yet acknowledged to himself that even this loss was
less hard to bear than the knowledge that she who had been so loved
and honored by the people should undergo the humiliation of being
dragged a slave in the train of the conquering Egyptians. He was,
however, so prostrate with grief that he obeyed with indifference the
order to leave the city, and was scarcely moved when the Egyptian
officer appointed to make the selection chose him as one of the party
that were to be taken as slaves to Egypt.
Prostrate as he was, however, he felt it to be a satisfaction and
comfort when he found that Jethro was also of the party set aside.
“It is selfish, Jethro,” he said, “for me to feel glad that you too
are to be dragged away as a slave, but it will be a great comfort to
have you with me. I know almost all the others of the party, but to
none shall I be able to talk of my father and mother and my home here
as I should to you whom I have known so long.”
“I am not sorry that I have been chosen,” Jethro said, “for I have no
family ties, and now that the Rebu are a conquered people I should
have little satisfaction in my life here. When we get to Egypt we
shall probably be separated, but there is a march of months’ duration
before us, and during that time we may at least be together; since,
then, my being with you is as you say, prince, a comfort to you, I am
well content that I have been chosen. I thought it a hard thing when
my wife died but a few weeks after our marriage. Now I rejoice that it
was so, and that I can leave without any one’s heart being wrung at my
departure. You and I, prince, perhaps of all those chosen will feel
the least misery at the fate that has befallen us. Most of those here
are leaving wives and children behind; some of the youngest are still
unmarried, but they have fathers and mothers from whom they will be
separated. Therefore, let us not bemoan our lot, for it might have
been worse, and our life in Egypt may not be wholly unbearable.”
“That is just what my dear mother said, Jethro,” Amuba replied,
repeating the message the queen had sent him.
“My dear mistress was right,” Jethro said. “We may find happiness in
Egypt as elsewhere; and now let us try to cheer up our companions, for
in cheering them we shall forget our own misfortunes.”
Jethro and Amuba went among the rest of the captives, most of whom
were prostrated with grief, and did their best to rouse them from
their stupor.
“The Egyptians have seen that the Rebu are men in the field,” Amuba
said to some of them. “Let them see that we can also bear misfortune
like men. Grieving will not mitigate our lot, nay, it will add to its
burden. If the Egyptians see that we bear our fate manfully they will
have far more compassion upon us than if they see that we bemoan
ourselves. Remember we have a long and toilsome journey before us, and
shall need all our strength. After all, the hardship of our lot is as
nothing to that of the women yonder. We are accustomed to exercise and
toil, but the journey, which we can support as well as the Egyptians,
will be terrible to them, delicate in nature as they are. Let us
therefore set them an example of courage and patience; let us bear
ourselves as men whose suffering is unmerited, who have been conquered
but not disgraced, who are prepared to defy fate and not to succumb to
it.”
Amuba’s words had a great effect upon the captives. They regarded him
with respect as the son of their late king, and as one who would have
been king himself had not this misfortune befallen them; and his
calmness and manly speech encouraged them to strive against their
grief and to look their fate more hopefully in the face. As long as
the army remained in camp the hands of the captives were tied behind
them, but when the march was begun they were relieved of their bonds
and were placed in the center of an Egyptian regiment.
It was a long and tedious journey. On the way the train of captives
was very largely increased by those who had been taken in the earlier
conquests of the army, and who had been left in charge of the troops
told off to the various provinces brought into subjection by the
Egyptians until the army passed through on its homeward march.
Provisions had been everywhere collected to supply it on its progress,
and as the distance traversed each day was small the captives suffered
but little until they entered upon the passage of the desert tract
between the southern point of Syria and the mouth of the Nile.
Here, although vast quantities of water were carried in the train of
the army, the supply given to the captives was extremely small,
and as the sun blazed down with tremendous heat, and they were
half-suffocated by the dust which rose in clouds under the feet of the
vast body of men, their sufferings were very severe. The Rebu captives
had gained the respect of the troops who escorted them by their manly
bearing and the absence of the manifestations of grief which were
betrayed by most of the other captives. The regiment was composed of
Libyan mercenaries, hardy, active men, inured alike to heat and
fatigue.
During the three months which the march had occupied Amuba and Jethro,
and indeed most of the captives, had acquired some knowledge of the
Egyptian language. Jethro had from the first impressed upon the young
prince the great advantage this would be to them. In the first place,
it would divert their thoughts from dwelling upon the past, and in the
second, it would make their lot more bearable in Egypt.
“You must remember,” he said, “that we shall be slaves, and masters
are not patient with their slaves. They give them orders, and if the
order is not understood so much the worse for the slaves. It will add
to our value, and therefore obtain for us better treatment, if we are
able to converse in their tongue.”
Amuba was thankful indeed when the gray monotony of the desert was
succeeded by the bright verdure of the plains of Egypt. As they
entered the land the order in which they had marched was changed, and
the long line of captives followed immediately after the chariot of
the king. Each of them was laden with a portion of the spoil taken
from their native country. Amuba bore on his head a large golden vase
which had been used in the ceremonies of the temple. Jethro carried a
rich helmet and armor which had belonged to the king.
The first city they entered Amuba was astonished at the massive
splendor of the buildings and at the signs of comfort and wealth which
everywhere met his eye. The streets were thronged with people who,
bending to the ground, shouted their acclamations as the king passed
along, and who gazed with interest and surprise at the long procession
of captives representing the various nations who had been subjected to
his arms. Most of all he was surprised at the temples with their long
avenues of sphinxes, the gigantic figures representing the gods, the
rows of massive pillars, the majesty and grandeur of the edifices
themselves.
“How were they built, Jethro?” he exclaimed over and again. “How were
these massive stones placed in order? How did they drag these huge
figures across the plains? What tools could they have used to carve
them out of the solid granite?”
“I am afraid, Amuba,” Jethro said grimly, for the lad had positively
forbidden him to address him any longer as prince, saying that such
title addressed to a slave was no better than mockery, “we are likely
to learn to our cost before long how they manage these marvels, for
marvels they assuredly are. It must have taken the strength of
thousands of men to have transported even one of these strange
figures, and although the people themselves may have aided in the
work, you may be sure the slaves bore the brunt of it.”
“But what is the meaning of these figures, Jethro? Surely neither in
this country nor in any other are there creatures with the faces of
women and the bodies of lions and great wings such as these have.
Some, too, have the faces of men and the bodies of bulls, while others
have heads like birds and bodies like those of men.”
“Assuredly there can be no such creatures, Amuba; and I wonder that a
people so enlightened and wise as the Egyptians should choose such
strange figures for their gods. I can only suppose that these figures
represent their attributes rather than the gods themselves. Do you
see, the human head may represent their intelligence, the bodies of
the lions or bulls their strength and power, the wings of the bird
their swiftness. I do not know that it is so, but it seems to me that
it is possible that it may be something of this sort. We cannot but
allow that their gods are powerful, since they give them victory over
all other people; but no doubt we shall learn more of them and of many
other things in time.”
The journey was continued for another three weeks, and was the cause
of constant surprises to the captives. The extraordinary fertility of
the land especially struck them. Cultivation among the Rebu was of a
very primitive description, and the abundance and variety of the crops
that everywhere met their eye seemed to them absolutely marvelous.
Irrigation was not wholly unknown to the Rebu, and was carried on to a
considerable extent in Persia; but the enormous works for the purpose
in Egypt, the massive embankments of the river, the network of canals
and ditches, the order and method everywhere apparent, filled them
with surprise and admiration.
Many of the cities and temples greatly surpassed in magnificence and
splendor those they had first met with, and Amuba’s wonder reached its
climax when they arrived at Memphis, till lately the capital of Egypt.
The wealth and contents of the city astonished the captives, but most
of all were they surprised when they saw the enormous bulk of the
pyramids rising a few miles distant from the town, and learned that
these were some of the tombs of the kings.
The country had now altered in character. On the left a range of steep
hills approached the river, and as the march proceeded similar though
not so lofty hills were seen on the right.
At last, after another fortnight’s traveling, a shout of joy from the
army proclaimed that Thebes, the capital of Egypt, the goal of the
long and weary march was in view.
Thebes stood on both sides of the Nile. On the eastern bank the
largest portion of the population was gathered, but this part of the
city was inhabited principally by the poorer class. There was, too, a
large population on the Libyan side of the Nile, the houses being
densely packed near the bank of the river. Behind these were numbers
of temples and palaces, while the tombs of the kings and queens were
excavated in a valley further back, whose precipitous sides were
honeycombed with the rock sepulchers of the wealthy. As the
dwelling-houses were all low, the vast piles of the temples, palaces,
and public buildings rose above them, and presented a most striking
appearance to those approaching the city, which lay in a great natural
amphitheater, the hills on both sides narrowing toward the river both
above and below it. The march of the royal army from Memphis had been
on the western bank of the river, and it was the great Libyan suburb
with its palaces and temples that they were approaching. As they
neared the city an enormous multitude poured out to welcome the king
and the returning army. Shouts of enthusiasm were raised, the sound of
trumpets and other musical instruments filled the air, religious
processions from the great temples moved with steady course through
the dense crowd, which separated at once to allow of the passage of
the figures of the gods, and of the priests and attendants bearing
their emblems.
“Indeed, Jethro,” Amuba exclaimed with enthusiasm, “it is almost worth
while being made a slave if it is only to witness this glorious scene.
What a wonderful people are these; what knowledge, and power, and
magnificence! Why, my father’s palace would be regarded as a mere hut
in Thebes, and our temples, of which we thought so much, are pygmies
by the side of these immense edifices.”
“All that is true enough, Amuba, and I do not say that I, too, am not
filled with admiration, and yet you know the Rebu several times drove
back their forces, and man for man are more than a match for their
soldiers. Our people are taller than they by half a head. We have not
so much luxury, nor did we want it. All this must make people
effeminate.”
“Perhaps so,” Amuba assented; “but you must remember it is not so very
long ago that we were a people living in tents, and wandering at will
in search of pasture, and we have not, I think, become effeminate
because we have settled down and built towns. No one can say that the
Egyptians are not brave; certainly it is not for us to say so, though
I agree with you that physically they are not our equals. See how the
people stare and point at us, Jethro. I should think they have never
seen a race like ours with blue eyes and fair hair, though even among
them there are varying shades of darkness. The nobles and upper
classes are lighter in hue than the common people.”
The surprise of the Egyptians was indeed great at the complexion of
their captives, and the decoration of their walls has handed down in
paintings which still remain the blue eyes and fair hair of the Rebu.
The rejoicings upon the return of the king went on for several days;
at the end of that time the captives were distributed by the royal
order. Some were given to the generals who had most distinguished
themselves. Many were assigned to the priests, while the great bulk
were sent to labor upon the public works.
The Rebu captives, whose singular complexion and fairness caused them
to be regarded with special interest, were distributed among the
special favorites of the king. Many of the girls were assigned to the
queen and royal princesses, others to the wives of the priests and
generals who formed the council of the king. The men were, for the
most part, given to the priests for service about the temples.
To his great delight Amuba found that Jethro and himself were among
the eight captives who were assigned to the service of the priests of
one of the great temples. This was scarcely the effect of chance, for
the captives were drawn up in line, and the number assigned to each
temple were marched off together in order that there might be no
picking and choosing of the captives, but that they might be divided
impartially between the various temples, and as Jethro always placed
himself by Amuba’s side, it naturally happened that they fell to the
same destination.
On reaching the temple the little band of captives were again drawn
up, and the high priest, Ameres, a grave and distinguished-looking
man, walked along the line scrutinizing them. He beckoned to Amuba to
step forward. “Henceforth,” he said, “you are my servant. Behave well,
and you will be well treated.” He again walked down the line, and
Amuba saw that he was going to choose another, and threw himself on
his knees before him.
“Will my lord pardon my boldness,” he said, “but may I implore you to
choose yonder man who stood next beside me? He has been my friend
from childhood, he covered me with his shield in battle, he has been a
father to me since I have lost my own. Do not, I implore you, my lord,
separate us now. You will find us both willing to labor at whatsoever
you may give us to do.”
The priest listened gravely.
“It shall be as you wish,” he said; “it is the duty of every man to
give pleasure to those around him if it lies in his power, and as your
friend is a man of thews and sinews, and has a frank and honest face,
he will assuredly suit me as well as another; do you therefore both
follow me to my house.”
The other captives saluted Amuba as he and Jethro turned to follow.
The priest observed the action, and said to the lad:
“Were you a person of consequence among your people that they thus at
parting salute you rather than your comrade, who is older than you?”
“I am the son of him who was their king,” Amuba said. “He fell in
action with your troops, and had not our city been taken, and the
nation subdued by the Egyptians, I should have inherited the throne.”
“Is it so?” the priest said. “Truly the changes and fortunes of life
are strange. I wonder that, being the son of their king, you were not
specially kept by Thotmes himself.”
“I think that he knew it not,” Amuba said. “We knew not your customs,
and my fellow-captives thought that possibly I might be put to death
were it known that I was a son of their king, and therefore abstained
from all outward marks of respect, which, indeed, would to one who was
a slave like themselves have been ridiculous.”
“Perhaps it is best so,” the priest said thoughtfully. “You would not
have been injured, for we do not slay our captives taken in war;
still maybe your life will be easier to bear as the servant of a
priest than in the household of the king. You had better, however,
mention to no one the rank you have borne, for it might be reported to
the king, and then you might be sent for to the palace; unless indeed
you would rather be a spectator of the pomp and gayety of the court
than a servant in a quiet household.”
“I would far rather remain with you, my lord,” Amuba said eagerly.
“You have already shown the kindness of your heart by granting my
request, and choosing my comrade Jethro as my fellow-slave, and I feel
already that my lot will be a far happier one than I had ventured to
hope.”
“Judge not hastily by appearances,” the priest said. “At the same
time, here in Egypt, slaves are not treated as they are among the wild
peoples of Nubia and the desert. There is a law for all, and he who
kills a slave is punished as if he took the life of an Egyptian.
However, I think I can say that your life will not be a hard one; you
have intelligence, as is shown by the fact that you have so rapidly
acquired sufficient knowledge of our tongue to speak it intelligibly.
Can you, too, speak our language?” he asked Jethro.
“I can speak a little,” Jethro said; “but not nearly so well as Amuba.
My lips are too old to fashion a strange tongue as rapidly as can his
younger ones.”
“You speak sufficiently well to understand,” the priest said, “and
doubtless will in time acquire our tongue perfectly. This is my
house.”
The priest entered an imposing gateway, on each side of which
stretched a long and lofty wall. At a distance of fifty yards from the
gate stood a large dwelling, compared to which the royal abode which
Amuba had been brought up in was but a miserable hut. Inclosed within
the walls was a space of ground some three hundred yards square, which
was laid out as a garden. Avenues of fruit trees ran all round it, a
portion was laid out as a vineyard, while separated from the rest by
an avenue of palm trees was a vegetable garden.
In front of the house was a large piece of water in which floated a
gayly-painted boat; aquatic plants of all kinds bordered its edges.
Graceful palms grouped their foliage over it, the broad flat leaves of
lilies floated on its surface, while the white flowers which Amuba had
seen carried in all the religious processions and by large numbers of
people of the upper rank, and which he heard were called the lotus,
rose above them. The two captives were struck with surprise and
admiration at the beauty of the scene, and forgot for a moment that
they were slaves as they looked round at a vegetation more beautiful
than they had ever beheld. A smile passed over the countenance of the
priest.
“Perfect happiness is for no man,” he said, “and yet methinks that you
may in time learn at least contentment here.”