therein.  The land shall be Israel’s and its enemies shall crouch without its borders, confounded at the splendor of the children of God.  And there will our princes arise and a throne be set up and a mighty nation established.  Cities will shine white and strong-walled on the heights, and caravans of commerce will follow down the broad roadways to the sea.  There will the ships of Israel come bowing over the waters with the riches of the world, and our wharves will be crowded with purple and gold and frankincense.  Babylon shall do homage on the right hand and Egypt upon the left, and the straight smoke from Jehovah’s altar will rise from the center unfailing by day or by night.”

They had reached the ledge and Kenkenes sat down on it, leaning on one hand across Rachel’s way.  She paused near him.  Even in the dark he could see the light in her eyes, and the joy of anticipation was in her voice.  As yet he did not know whether she talked of the Israelitish conception of supernal life, or of a belief in a temporal redemption.

“And there shall be no death nor any of the world-sorrows therein?” he asked.

“Since we shall dwell in the world we may not escape the world’s uncertainties,” she replied, looking at his lifted face.  “But most men live better lives when they live happily, and I doubt not there will be less unhappiness, provident or fortuitous, in Israel, the nation, than in Israel, enslaved.”

So the slave talked of freedom as slaves talk of it—­hopefully and eloquently.  A pity asserted itself in the young sculptor’s heart and grew to such power that it tinctured his speech.

“Is thy heart then so firmly set on this thing?” he asked gently.

“It is the hope that bears Israel’s burdens and the balm that heals the welt of the lash.”

And in the young man’s heart he said it was a vain hope, a happy delusion that might serve to make the harsh bondage endurable till time dispelled it.  The simple words of the girl were eloquent portrayal of Israel’s plight, and Kenkenes subsided into a sorry state of helpless sympathy.  She was not long in interpreting his silence.

“Vain hope, is it?” she said.  “And how shall it come to pass in the face of the Pharaoh’s denial and the might of Egypt’s arms?  Thou art young and so am I, but both of us remember Rameses.  There has been none like him.  He overthrew the world, did he not?  And it was a hard task and a precarious and a long one, when he but measured arms with mortals.  Is it not a problem worthy the study to ponder how he might have fared in battle with a god?”

Kenkenes lifted his head suddenly and regarded her.

“Aye,” she continued, “I have given thee food for thought.  Futile indeed were Israel’s hopes if it set itself unaided against the Pharaoh.  But the God of Israel hath appointed His hour and hath already descended into fellowship with His chosen people.  He hath promised to lead us forth, and the Divine respects a promise.  So a God against a Pharaoh.  Doth it not appear to thee, Egyptian, that there approaches a marvelous time?”