"I would sooner fear a rebellion among the draft-oxen and the mules of
Nehapehu." [1]
"The elder Seti's fears and the fears of the great Rameses were other than yours."
"O, aye, they had cause for fear then, but since Seti yoked the creatures—"
"The Pharaohs did not begin in time," the elder man interrupted. "Had that royal fiat, the decimation of Hebrew children, continued, we should not have had the Israelite to-day, but gods!" he shuddered with horror. "I hope that is a horrid slander—tradition, not fact. I like not to lay the slaughter or babes at the door of any Egyptian dynasty. But had an early Pharaoh of the house of Tothmes enforced the absorption of the Hebrew by his same rank among the Egyptian, we should not have the menace of a hostile alien within our borders to-day. The heavy hand of oppression has made a wondrous race of them for strength. Theirs is no mean intellect; great men have come from among them, and they will be a hardy foe arrayed against us."
"They are not warriors; they are poor and unequipped for hostilities; they are thoroughly under subjection," the young man pursued. "What can they do against us?"
"Do!" Mentu exclaimed with impatience in the repetition. "They have only to say to the banished Hyksos: 'Come ye, let us do battle with Egypt. We will be your mercenaries.' They have only to send greeting to that lean traitor Amon-meses, thus: 'Give us the Delta to be ours and we will help you win all Egypt,' and there will be enough done."
"They must have a pact among themselves and a leader, first," Kenkenes objected.
"Have I not said they are organized? And their leader is found. He is a foster-brother to Meneptah; an initiated priest of Isis; a sorcerer and an infidel of the blackest order. He is Prince Mesu, a Hebrew by birth."
"Dost thou know him?" Kenkenes asked with interest.
"Nay, he has dwelt in Midian these forty years. He returned some time ago and hath dwelt passively in Goshen till—"