The little Egyptian flung herself upon the Israelite, weeping.
"Art thou, too, deserting me—thou, who art the last to befriend me?
What have I done that thou shouldst desert me?"
"Naught! Naught! Thou dear unfortunate!" was the passionate reply.
"But I must go! I must!"
"Thou must flee from sure safety to only possible security!" Masanath demanded through her tears. "If I must wed this terrible prince, I shall put my misery to some use. I shall ask thy liberty at his hands and thou shalt live with me for ever, my one comfort, my one support."
"But Israel departeth shortly—"
"Thou shalt not go," Masanath declared hysterically. "I will not suffer thee! The doors shall be barred against thy departure!"
Rachel turned her head away and pushed back her hair. Her plight was desperate. Meanwhile Masanath went on.
"It is not like thee, Rachel, to desert me! I had not dreamed thee so selfish—so cruel!"
"Sister!" Rachel cried, "thou torturest me!" On a sudden Masanath raised her head and gazed at the Israelite.
"What possessed thee to go?" she demanded. "Is it Rameses who hath beset thee?"