“Thanks be to the God of Israel,” she demanded from her shelter.

“And the God of Israel,” he said obediently.

“Nay, to the God of Israel alone,” she insisted, raising her head.

He laughed a little and patted her hands softly together.

“It was but the habit in me that made me name Osiris.  There is no god for me, but Love.”

“So long, so long, Kenkenes, and not any change in thee?” she sighed.  “How hath Egypt been helped of her gods, these grievous days?”

“The gods and the gods, and ever the gods!” he said.  “What have we to do with them?  Deborah bade me turn from them and this I have done with all sincerity.  Much have I pondered on the question and this have I concluded.  Egypt’s holy temples have been vainly built; her worship has been wasted on the air.  There was and is a Creator, but, Rachel, that Power whose mind is troubled with the great things is too great to behold the petty concerns of men.  My fortunes and thine we must direct, for though we implored that Power till we died from the fervor of our supplications, It could not hear, whose ears are filled with the murmurings of the traveling stars.  Why we were created and forgotten, we may not know.  How may we guess the motives of anything too great for us to conceive?  Whatsoever befalls us results from our use at the hands of men, or from the nature of our abiding-place.  We must defend ourselves, prosper ourselves and live for what we make of life.  After that we shall not know the troubles and the joys of the world, for the tombs are restful and soundless.  Is it not so, my Rachel?”

She shook her head.  “Thou hast gone astray, Kenkenes.  But thou wast untaught—­”

“I have reasoned, Rachel, and the Power I have found in my ponderings, makes all the gods seem little.  Thy God must manifest himself more fearfully; he must overthrow my reasoning before I can bow to him.  And if, of a surety, he is greater than the Power I have made, will he need my adoration or listen to my prayers?  Nay, nay, my Rachel.  If thou wilt have me worship, let me fall on my face to thee—­”

She interrupted him with a quick gesture.

“Kenkenes, have I prayed in vain for the light to fall on thee?” she asked sadly.

He smiled and moved closer, looking down into her face as he had done when he studied it as Athor.

“Nay, hast thou done that, and hast thou not been heard?  Thou dost but fix me in mine unbelief.  Did any god exist he would have heard thy supplications.  Come, let us make an end of this.  There are sweeter themes I would discuss.  Where hast thou been, these many months?  Not here in this haunted cave?”

His lightness sank her hope to the lowest ebb.  A sudden hurt reached her heart.  His unregeneracy suggested unfaithfulness to her.  Their positions had been reversed.  It was she that had been denied.  Duty reasserted itself with a chiding sting.