Yet he did not conceal from himself that his request might be refused, that he might be detained by force, nay, perchance, if he insisted on carrying out his purpose with unshaken will, he might be menaced with death, or if the worst should come, even delivered over to the executioner.  But if this should be his doom, if his purpose cost him his life, he would still have done what was right, and his comrades, whose esteem he valued, could still think of him as a brave brother-in-arms.  Nor would his father and Miriam be angry with him, nay, they would mourn the faithful son, the upright man, who chose death rather than dishonor.

Calm and resolute, he gave the pass-word with haughty bearing to the sentinel and entered his tent.  Ephraim was still lying on his couch, smiling as if under the thrall of pleasant dreams.  Hosea threw himself on a mat beside him to seek strength for the hard duties of the coming day.  Soon his eyes closed, too, and, after an hour’s sound sleep, he woke without being roused and called for his holiday attire, his helmet, and the gilt coat-of-mail he wore at great festivals or in the presence of Egypt’s king.

Meantime Ephraim, too, awoke, looked with mingled curiosity and delight at his uncle, who stood before him in all the splendor of his manhood and glittering panoply of war, and exclaimed: 

“It must be a proud feeling to wear such garments and lead thousands to battle.”

Hosea shrugged his shoulders and replied: 

“Obey thy God, give no man, from the loftiest to the lowliest, a right to regard you save with respect, and you can hold your head as high as the proudest warrior who ever wore purple robe and golden armor.”

“But you have done great deeds among the Egyptians,” Ephraim continued.  “They hold you in high regard; even captain Homecht and his daughter, Kasana.”

“Do they?” asked the soldier smiling, and then bid his nephew keep quiet; for his brow, though less fevered than the night before, was still burning.

“Don’t go into the open air until the leech has seen you,” Hosea added, “and wait here till my return.”

“Shall you be absent long?” asked the lad.

Hosea paused for a moment, lost in thought then, with a kindly glance at him answered, gravely “Whoever serves a master knows not how long he may be detained.”  Then, changing his tone, he continued less earnestly.  “To-day—­this morning—­perchance I may finish my business speedily and return in a few hours.  If not, if I do not come back to you this evening or early to-morrow morning, then. . . . " he laid his hand on the lad’s shoulder as he spoke “then go home at your utmost speed.  When you reach Succoth, if the people have gone before your coming, you will find in the hollow sycamore before Amminadab’s house a letter which will tell you whither they have turned their steps.  When you overtake them, give my greetings to my father, to my grandfather Elishama, and to Miriam.  Tell