"My father? Nay, now, dost thou fear me? Not so; and my father is but myself, grown old. He was only a little less mad with fear than I, when he discovered that thou shouldst have come to him so long ago, and camest not. It damped his joy in having me again, and I left him pale with concern. Did I not tell thee how good he is?"
"Aye, it was not that I feared him, but that I feared that thou—" And she paused and again he helped her.
"That I was dead? That I had played thee false? Rachel! But how couldst thou know? Forgive me. Since the tenth night I left thee I have been in prison."
"In prison!" she exclaimed, lifting her face. "Alas, that I did not think of it. It is mine to beg thy forgiveness, Kenkenes, and on my very knees!"
"So thou didst think it, in truth!" She hid her face again and craved his pardon.
But he pressed her to him and soothed her.
"Nay, I do not chide thee. Had I been in thy place, I might have thought the same. But it is past—gone with the horrors of this horrible season—Osiris be thanked!"
"Thanks be to the God of Israel," she demanded from her shelter.
"And the God of Israel," he said obediently.
"Nay, to the God of Israel alone," she insisted, raising her head.