brother-in-arms from Tanis, so he could tell her that the lad had been
disobedient and, probably from foolish curiosity, had gone, ill and
wounded, to the city, where he had found shelter and care in the house of
a friend. But this troubled Miriam, who seemed to regard it as a
reproach to know that the orphaned, inexperienced lad, who had grown up
under her own eyes and whom she herself had sent forth among strangers,
was beneath an Egyptian roof.

But Hosea declared that he would undertake the task of bringing him back
to his people and as, nevertheless she continued to show her anxiety,
asked whether he had forfeited her confidence and love. Instead of
giving him a consoling answer, she began to put more questions, desiring
to know what had delayed his coming, and so, with a sorely troubled and
wounded heart, he was forced to make his report and, in truth, begin at
the end of his story.

While she listened, leaning against the trunk of the sycamore, he paced
to and fro, urged by longing and impatience, sometimes pausing directly
in front of her. Naught in this hour seemed to him worthy of being
clothed in words, save the hope and passion which filled his heart. Had
he been sure that hers was estranged he would have dashed away again,
after having revealed his whole soul to his father, and risked the ride
into unknown regions to seek Moses. To win Miriam and save himself from
perjury were his only desires, and momentous as had been his experiences
and expectations, during the last few days, he answered her questions
hastily, as if they concerned the most trivial things.

He began his narrative in hurried words, and the more frequently she
interrupted him, the more impatiently he bore it, the deeper grew the
lines in his forehead.