“Joshua!” he interrupted fiercely.  “Do you grudge me even the name your God bestowed?  I relied upon His help when I entered the palace of the mighty king.  I sought under God’s guidance rescue and salvation for the people, and I found them.  But you, you . . . .”

“Your father and Moses, nay, all the believing heads of the tribes, see no salvation for us among the Egyptians,” she answered, panting for breath.  “What they promise the Hebrews will be their ruin.  The grass sowed by us withers where their feet touch it!  And you, whose honest heart they deceive, are the whistler whom the bird-catcher uses to decoy his feathered victims into the snare.  They put the hammer into your hand to rivet more firmly than before the chains which, with God’s aid, we have sundered.  Before my mind’s eye I perceive . . . .”

“Too much!” replied the warrior, grinding his teeth with rage.  “Hate dims your clear intellect.  If the bird-catcher really—­what was your comparison—­if the bird-catcher really made me his whistler, deceived and misled me, he might learn from you, ay, from you!  Encouraged by you, I relied upon your love and faith.  From you I hoped all things—­and where is this love?  As you spared me nothing that could cause me pain, I will, pitiless to myself, confess the whole truth to you.  It was not alone because the God of my fathers called me, but because His summons reached me through you and my father that I came.  You yearn for a land in the far uncertain distance, which the Lord has promised you; but I opened to the people the door of a new and sure home.  Not for their sakes—­what hitherto have they been to me?—­but first of all to live there in happiness with you whom I loved, and my old father.  Yet you, whose cold heart knows naught of love, with my kiss still on your lips, disdain what I offer, from hatred of the hand to which I owe it.  Your life, your conflicts have made you masculine.  What other women would trample the highest blessings under foot?”

Miriam could bear no more and, sobbing aloud, covered her convulsed face with her hands.

At the grey light of dawn the sleepers in the camp began to stir, and men and maid servants came out of the dwellings of Amminadab and Naashon.  All whom the morning had roused were moving toward the wells and watering places, but she did not see them.

How her heart had expanded and rejoiced when her lover exclaimed that he had come to lead them to the land which the Lord had promised to his people.  Gladly had she rested on his breast to enjoy one brief moment of the greatest bliss; but how quickly had bitter disappointment expelled joy!  While the morning breeze had stirred the crown of the sycamore and Joshua had told her what Pharaoh would grant to the Hebrews, the rustling among the branches had seemed to her like the voice of God’s wrath and she fancied she again heard the angry words of hoary-headed Nun.  The latter’s reproaches had dismayed Uri like the flash of lightning, the roll of thunder, yet how did Joshua’s proposition differ from Uri’s?