"The stranger who ate of our bread, will he not take us to that far country?"
"It may be----" began Seth, then he stopped suddenly--Anat had grasped his arm convulsively, her face pallid to the lips.
"The voices!" she gasped. "I hear them, they will sell us into bondage! Let us hide, quick!"
Without a word the lad hurried her into a narrow cleft in the rocks not far distant. Here, tugging with all his strength at a broad stone which was half buried in the drifting sand, he at length succeeded in pulling it aside. The opening disclosed a flight of steps cut in the solid rock, winding down into impenetrable darkness. From the depths there ascended a stifling odor of resin and spices.
The girl drew back gasping, "Not here!" she said faintly. "I am afraid; I cannot go further, it is the breath of the dead."
The lad hesitated an instant; he too heard the sound of voices and the tinkling of harness bells. "Listen," he whispered, "I know not the voices, but thou knowest."
"Yes, yes! it is the voice; I will go anywhere to escape."
The tinkling sound and the slow steps of the beasts of burden became momently louder, together with the harsh tones of a human voice.
"'Tis a fool's errand, Besa; thou hast lost what little wit the gods gave thee in thy tumble of yesterday. By Sechet! I have not yet done laughing to think of the way the little hell-witch served thee!"
"Who could know that the beggar understood Greek!"