It was hard for Ephraim to find a fitting answer; he had been told that the God of his race had punished the Egyptians to rescue his own people from shame and bondage, and he could neither condemn nor scorn the men of his own blood.  So he kept silence that he might neither speak falsely nor blaspheme; but Kasana allowed him no peace, and he at last replied that aught which caused her sorrow was grief to him, but his people had no power over life and health, and when a Hebrew was ill, he often sent for an Egyptian physician.  What had occurred was doubtless the will of the great God of his fathers, whose power far surpassed the might of any other deity.  He himself was a Hebrew, yet she would surely believe his assurance that he was guiltless of the plague and would gladly recall her uncle and cousin to life, had he the power to do so.  For her sake he would undertake the most difficult enterprise.

She smiled kindly and replied: 

“My poor boy!  If I see any guilt in you, it is only that you are one of a race which knows no ruth, no patience.  Our beloved, hapless dead!  They must even lose the lamentations of their kindred; for the house where they rest is plague-stricken and no one is permitted to enter.”

She silently wiped her eyes and went on arranging her garlands, but tear after tear coursed down her cheeks.

Ephraim knew not what to say, and mutely handed her the leaves and blossoms.  Whenever his hand touched hers a thrill ran through his veins.  His head and the wound began to ache, and he sometimes felt a slight chill.  He knew that the fever was increasing, as it had done once before when he nearly lost his life in the red disease; but he was ashamed to own it and battled bravely against his pain.

When the sun was nearing the horizon Hornecht entered the garden.  He had already seen Hosea, and though heartily glad to greet his old friend once more, it had vexed him that the soldier’s first enquiry was for his daughter.  He did not withhold this from the young widow, but his flashing eyes betrayed the displeasure with which he delivered the Hebrew’s message.  Then, turning to Ephraim, he told him that Hosea and his men would encamp outside of the city, pitching their tents, on account of the pestilence, between Tanis and the sea.  They would soon march by.  His uncle sent Ephraim word that he must seek him in his tent.

When he noticed that the youth was aiding his daughter to weave the garlands, he smiled, and said: 

“Only this morning this young fellow declared his intention of remaining free and a ruler all his life.  Now he has taken service with you, Kasana.  You need not blush, young friend.  If either your mistress or your uncle can persuade you to join us and embrace the noblest trade—­that of the soldier—­so much the better for you.  Look at me!  I’ve wielded the bow more than forty years and still rejoice in my profession.  I must obey, it is true, but it is also my privilege to command, and the thousands who obey me are not sheep and cattle, but brave men.  Consider the matter again.  He would make a splendid leader of the archers.  What say you, Kasana?”