"I can take thee back to Atsu," he said slowly. "These menials will not remain in the hills after sunset, and under cover of night I can slip thee, by strategy, past any sentries they may have set and get thee to Atsu. I, by my sacrilege, and he by his insubordination, are both under ban of the law, but danger with him will be sweeter danger than peril with me, I doubt not."
She looked at him, and the hurt that began to show on her face gave place to puzzlement.
"Is it not so?" he asked with a bitter smile. "The companionship of ones beloved works wonders out of heavy straits!"
"But—. Dost thou—? Atsu is naught to me," she cried, her grave face brightening.
The blood surged back to his cheeks and the life into his eyes. He leaned toward her, ready to ask for more enlightenment concerning her conduct, when she went on dreamily: "But he is wondrous kind and hath made the camp bright with his humanity. Israel loveth Atsu."
Kenkenes turned again to the perplexity in hand.
"I came this morning to ask thy permission to give thee thy freedom. I doubt not Israel of Masaarah, hidden in a niche in the hills, does not dream that it is the plan of the Pharaoh—nay, the heir to the crown of Egypt by the mouth of the Pharaoh—to exterminate the Hebrews." Rachel recoiled from him.
"What sayest thou?" she exclaimed, her voice sharp with terror.
"Nay, forgive me!" he said penitently. "So intent was I on thy rescue that I forgot to soften my words. Let it be. It is said; I would it were not true."
Her affright was only momentary, for her faith restored her ere his last words were spoken.