“Especially,” Amuba said, “when the honest men possess such sinews as yours, Jethro, and a good heavy cudgel in their hands.”
Jethro smiled, but was in too earnest a mood to answer, and at once led the way along the hillside until immediately behind the house among the trees; then they descended, climbing with some difficulty over the wall surrounding the wood, and entered the inclosure. Treading as lightly as possible Jethro and his companions passed through the wood and made their way up to the house. It was small but handsomely built, and was surrounded with a colonnade supported by carved pillars. The garden immediately around it was evidently carefully tended, and the house, from its secluded position, was well fitted as a place of sojourn for a wealthy priest or noble desirous of a few days’ rest and retirement from the bustle of the great city. As all were barefooted they passed across the garden to the colonnade without the slightest sound. As they reached it Jethro held up his hand for them to stop, for the sound of voices came through the wide doorway of an apartment opening out to the colonnade. Both Chebron and Amuba at once recognized the voice of Ptylus.
“I will put up with no more of this folly, Mysa. You should think yourself fortunate in the extreme, in the position in which you are, belonging to a disgraced family, to receive such an offer as my son makes to you. I will have an answer at once. You will either swear before the gods that you accept Plexo as your future husband, that you will reply to all who question you that you have been staying here by your own free will, and that you remained in concealment simply because you were overwhelmed with horror at the terrible act of sacrilege committed by your brother, or you will this night be confined in a tomb, where you will remain alone and without the light of day until you agree to my conditions. You don’t think, you little fool, that I, Ptylus, high priest of Osiris, am to be thwarted in my plans by the opposition of a child like you.”
Here a voice, which the three listeners recognized to their surprise as that of Ruth, broke out:
“Do not listen to him, Mysa. Whatever comes of it, never consent to lie before God, as this wicked man would have you. You call yourself a high priest, sir. What must be the worth of the gods you pretend to worship if they suffer one like you to minister to them? Were they gods, and not mere images of stone, they would strike you dead at the altar.”
A furious exclamation broke from Ptylus, and he stepped forward and seized the Hebrew girl roughly by the shoulder, only to start back with another exclamation as Ruth struck him with her open hand, with all her force, on the cheek.
“Drag her hence, Plexo!” he exclaimed. But at this moment the entrance was darkened, and the three listeners sprang into the room.
Ptylus had the courage that distinguished his race, and although for a moment startled at the sudden entry he did not recoil, but drawing a sword from his girdle he said haughtily:
“Who are you, and what means this intrusion?”
“We are those whom you have been hunting to death, Ptylus; and we come here as avengers of blood. As you brought about the murder of Ameres, so you must die—to say naught of your offense in carrying off the daughter of the man you slew.”