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Updated: May 8, 2025
Rend thyself and cover thy head with ashes. Thy destruction is but begun. For a hundred years thou hast oppressed Israel. Now is the hour of the children of God!" Masanath wrung her hands, but the voice went on. "As the Nile flows, so hath the blood of Israel been wasted by the hand of Egypt. Now shall the God of Abraham drain her veins, even so, drop for drop.
So she died, blessing the two young girls who had attended her, and promising peace and happiness to come. Then they laid her in a new tomb cut in the rock face of the Libyan hills and wrote on her sarcophagus: "She departed out of the land of Mizraim before her people." And this was prophecy. Thus was Rachel left, but for Masanath, entirely alone. None of the afflictions had overtaken her.
Masanath answered by extending her hand to him. Three of the soldiers laid their cloaks on the earth for her feet; six others let down the litter and Menes assisted her into the sumptuous conveyance Rameses had sent. Another soldier, after rapid and low-spoken instructions from the captain, whirled his horse about, saluted and took the road toward Tanis at a gallop.
Thou art wrong, Rachel!" "Would to the Lord God that I were, my sister! But I am not mistaken in that face. He was the one that disputed with Kenkenes was the one Kenkenes choked. Never was there another man with such a voice, such a face, such a figure! It is he!" Masanath wrung her hands. "Tell it over again. Describe the noble to me." "He was third in the procession and drove black horses "
I have been a guest under thy roof and at thy board, a pensioner upon thy cheer, and now, even while my heart was full of gratitude, have I encroached upon thy happiness and broken thine overburdened heart. Forgive me, Masanath. Let me not come between thee and thy father, sister! Let me return to my people, for Israel shortly goeth forth. Doubt it not.
Had Rachel's spirit been of weaker fiber the Egyptian's own forceful individuality would have longed to sustain it, but when it broke in its strength she knew that here was a stress of emotion too deep for her to soothe. "Then if he is not dead," she said, searching for something to say, "why weepest thou?" "Alas! seest thou not, Masanath?
Masanath! That man that Unas attended the noble who halted me on the road to the Nile, that morning; he was the one sent back to Memphis for the document of gift; he pursued me into the hills. He is the servant of the man who follows me!" The Egyptian recoiled as though she had been struck. "Nay, nay," she cried, throwing up her hands as though to ward off the conviction. "Not my father! Not he!
"Ah, I might have known," he said impatiently. "Rachel put the writing there for me when she left the tomb for the shelter Masanath offered her in Memphis." The admission cheered him somewhat, but it did not repair his exhausted forces. By the time he reached his father's door he was unsteady, indeed, and beyond further exertion.
Her home could have been an asylum for the younger, but Masanath was determined to know one year of absolute independence before she entered the long bondage of queenship. It was now the middle of June, the height of Egyptian summer. In a little space the marshes, which had been, for eight months, favorite haunts of fowlers, would be submerged, for the inundation was not far away.
"The unquiet soul, my Lady," Nari whispered, in awe. "Strange that the gods gifted the creatures with keener sight than men," Masanath answered, somewhat disturbed. She moved toward the bird, talking softly, but the persuasion was as useless as if the decoy had been a wild thing. At the nearer approach of the small hand it took wings and flew. The mate followed, unhesitating.
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