The Yoke Part 23

CANAAN

When the imperative necessity of harmonious expression became apparent, the young artist laid aside his chisel and mallet, and the Arabian desert knew his footsteps no more for many days after the rough-hewing of Athor's face. Instead, he mingled with the people of Memphis in quest of the expression. The pursuit became fascinating and all-absorbing. With the most deliberate calculation, he studied the faces of the betrothed and of newly wedded wives, and finding too much of content therein, he sought out the unelect for study. And with these, his search ended.

Thereafter he made innumerable heads in clay, and covered linen scrolls with drawings. But it was the semblance he gained and not the spirit.

The light eluded him.

On the day after Mentu's return from On, Kenkenes paid the first visit to Masaarah since the incident of the collar,--and the last he thought to make until he had won that for which he strove. He went to bury the matting in the sand and to hide other evidences of recent occupancy about the niche. He left the block of stone undisturbed, for the transgression was not yet apparent on the face of Athor. The scrolls, which had been concealed under the carpeting, were too numerous for his wallet to contain, but he carried the surplus openly in his hand.

It was sunset before he had made an end. To return to the Nile by way of the cliff-front would have saved him time, but there was a boyish wish in his heart to look again on the lovely face that had helped him and baffled him. So he descended into the upper end of the ravine and slowly pa.s.sed the outskirts of the camp, but the bond-girl was nowhere to be seen. The s.p.a.ces between the low tents were filled with feeding laborers and there was an unusual amount of cheer to be noted among Israel of Masaarah. Kenkenes heard the talk and laughter with some wonderment as he pa.s.sed. He admitted that he was disappointed when, without a glimpse of Rachel, he emerged into the Nile valley. But he leaped lightly down the ledge, crossed the belt of rubble, talus and desert sand, and entered the now well-marked wagon road between the dark green meadow land on either side. Egypt was in shadow--her sun behind the Libyan heights,--but the short twilight had not fallen.

Overhead were the cooling depths of sky, as yet starless, but the river was breathing on the winds and the sibilant murmur of its waters began to talk above the sounds of the city. To the north, the south and the east was pastoral and desert quiet; to the west was the gradual subsidence of urban stir. Frogs were beginning to croak in the distance, and in the long grain here and there, a nocturnal insect chirred and stilled abruptly as the young man pa.s.sed.

Within a rod of the pier some one called:

"My master!"

The voice came from a distance, but he knew whom he should see when he turned. Half-way across the field toward the quarries Rachel was coming, with a scroll in her lifted hand. He began to retrace his steps to meet her, but she noted the action and quickened her rapid walk into running.

"Thou didst drop this outside the camp," she said as she came near. "I feared it might have somewhat pertaining to the statue on it, and I have brought it, with the permission of the taskmaster." She stopped, and putting her hand into the folds of her habit on her breast, hesitated as if for words to speak further. Kenkenes interrupted her with his thanks.

"How thou hast fatigued thyself for me, Rachel! Out of all Egypt I doubt if I might find another so constant guardian of my welfare. The grace of the G.o.ds attend thee as faithfully. I thank thee, most gratefully."

The purpose in her face dissolved, the hand that seemed to hold somewhat in the folds of her habit relaxed and fell slowly. While Kenkenes waited for her to speak, he noted that a dress of unbleached linen replaced the coa.r.s.e cotton surplice she had worn before, and her feet were shod with simple sandals--an extravagance among slaves. But the garb was yet too mean. The sculptor wondered at that moment how the sumptuous attire of the high-born Memphian women would become her.

He shook his head and in his imagination dressed her in snow-white robes with but the collar of rings about her throat, and stood back to marvel at his picture of splendid simplicity.

"Hast thou not something more to tell me?" he asked kindly. "Do thou rest here on the wharf while we talk. Art thou not quite breathless?"

"Nay, I thank thee," she faltered. "I may not linger." The hand once again sought the folds over her breast.

"Then let me walk with thee on thy way. It will be dark soon."

"Nay," she protested flus.h.i.+ng, "and again, I thank thee. It is not needful." She made a movement as if to leave him, but he stepped to her side.

"Out upon thee, daughter of Israel, thou art ungracious," he remonstrated laughingly. "I can not think thee so wondrous brave. For it is a long walk to the camp and the night will be pitch-black. Why may I not go with thee?"

"There is naught to be feared."

"Of a truth? Those hills are as full of wild beasts as Amenti is of spirits. And even if no hurt befell thee, the trepidation of that long journey would be cruel. Nay; Ptah, the gallant G.o.d, would spurn my next offering, did I send thee back to camp alone. Wilt thou come?"

She bowed and dropped behind him. Her resolution to maintain the forms of different rank between them was not characteristic of other slaves he had known. There was no presumption or humble grat.i.tude in her manner when he would offer her the courtesies of an equal, but he had met the disdain of a peer once when he thought he talked with a slave.

There was something mocking in her perfunctory deference, but her pride was genuine. Her conduct seemed to say: "I would liefer be a Hebrew and a slave than a princess of the G.o.d-forgotten realm of Egypt."

The young sculptor was unruffled, however. He was turning over in his mind, with interest, the evidence that tended to show that the Israelite had something more to tell him, that her courage had failed her, and that her hand had sought something concealed in her dress. He recalled the former meetings with her and arrived at a surmise so sudden and so conclusive that with difficulty he kept himself from making outward demonstration of his conviction. "The collar, by Apis!

I offended her with the trinket. And she came to make me take it back, but her courage fled. Pie upon my clumsy gallantries! I must make amends. I would not have her hate me."

He broke the silence with an old, old remark--one that Adam might have made to Eve.

"Look at the stars, Rachel. There is a dark cas.e.m.e.nt in the heavens--a blink of the eye and the lamp is alight."

"So I watch them every night. But they are swifter here in Memphis.

At Mendes, where Israel toiled once, they are more deliberate," she answered readily.

"Aye, but you should see them at Philae. They ignite and bound into brilliance like sparks of meeting metal and flint. Ah, but the tropics are precipitate!"

"I know them not," she ventured.

"Their acquaintance is better avoided. They have no mean--they leap from extreme to extreme. They are violent, immoderate. It is instant night and instant day; it is the maddest pa.s.sion of summer always.

Nature reigns at the top of her voice and chokes her realm with the fervor of her maternity. Nay, give me the north. I would feel the earth's pulse now and then without burning my fingers."

"There is room for choice in this land of thine," she mused after a little.

"Land of mine?" he repeated inquiringly, turning his head to look at her. "Is it not also thine?"

"Nay, it is not the Hebrews' and it never was," the clear answer came from the dusk behind him.

"So!" he exclaimed. "After four hundred years in Egypt they have not adopted her!"

"We have but sojourned here a night. The journey's end is farther on."

"Israel hath made a long night of the sojourn," he rejoined laughingly.

"Nay," she answered. "Thou hast not said aright. It is Egypt that hath made a long night of our sojourn."

There was a silence in which Kenkenes felt accused and uncomfortable.

It would require little to make harsh the temper of the talk. It lay with him, one of the race of offenders, to make amends.

"It is for me to admit Egypt's sin and ask a truce," he said gently.

"So be thou generous to me, since it is I who am abashed in her stead."

Again there was silence, broken at last by the Israelite in a voice grown wondrously contrite.

"I do not reproach thee. Nor, indeed, is all Egypt at fault. The sin lies with the Pharaohs."

"Ah! the G.o.ds forbid!" he protested. "Lay it on the shoulders of babes, if thou wilt, but I am party to treason if I but give ear to a rebuke of the monarch."

"I am not ignorant of the law. I shall spare thee, but I have purchased my right to condemn the king."

"Thou indomitable! And I accused thee of fear. I retract. But tell me--what is the journey's end? Is it the ultimate goal of all flesh?"

"Not so," she answered proudly. "It is Israel's inheritance promised for four hundred years. The time is ripe for possession. We go forward to enter into a land of our own."

"Thou givest me news. Come, be the Hebrews' historian and enlighten me. Where lies the land?"

Rachel hesitated. To her it was a serious problem to decide whether the lightness of the sculptor's tone were mockery or good fellows.h.i.+p.

Kenkenes noted her silence and spoke again.

"Perchance I ask after a hieratic secret. If so, forgive the blunder."

"Nay," she replied at once. "It is no secret. All Egypt will know of it ere long. G.o.d hath prepared us a land wherein we may dwell under no master but Jehovah. We go hence shortly to enter it. The captain of Israel will lead us thither and Jehovah will show him the way. Abraham was informed that it was a wondrous land wherein the olive and the grape will crown the hills; the corn will fill the valleys; the cattle and sheep, the pasture lands. There will be many rivers instead of one and the desert will lie afar off from its confines. The sun will s.h.i.+ne and the rain will fall and the winds will blow as man needeth them, and there will be no slavery and no heavy life therein. The land shall be Israel's and its enemies shall crouch without its borders, confounded at the splendor of the children of G.o.d. And there will our princes arise and a throne be set up and a mighty nation established. Cities will s.h.i.+ne white and strong-walled on the heights, and caravans of commerce will follow down the broad roadways to the sea. There will the s.h.i.+ps 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."