He backed out and descended the stairway.
When she was sure he was gone she flung herself, in a paroxysm of wild grief and despair, face down on her cushions. At that moment a cold hand caught her arm. She looked up and saw Rachel. All the blue had gone from the Israelite's eyes, leaving them black with dreadful conviction. The color had receded from her cheeks and her figure was rigid.
"Who was that man?" she demanded in a voice low with concentrated emotion.
"Unas, my father's man. What is amiss, Rachel?"
The Israelite stood for a moment as though she permitted the intelligence to assemble all the further facts that it entailed. Then she turned away and walked swiftly toward the well of the stair.
"Rachel! Thou—what—thou hast not answered me," Masanath called.
"There is naught to be said. I—it were best that I go to my people now, since thou goest to marriage," was the unready reply.
"Thou wilt return to thy people! Rachel! Nay, nay I Thou art all I have. Come back! Come back!" Masanath cried, running after her.
Rachel hesitated, trembling with a multitude of emotions.
"It were better I should go," she insisted, trying to escape Masanath's clasp. "If I go now I can reach my people and be hidden safely."