“By the way,” Jethro said, “we have not heard yet how it was that you were together. We heard of your being carried off, but old Lyptis told me that no one had seen aught of you.”
“They were all scared out of their senses,” Ruth said scornfully. “The men suddenly ran into the room and seized Mysa, and twisted a shawl round her head before she had time to call out. I screamed, and one of them struck me a blow which knocked me down. Then they carried her off. I think I was stunned for a moment. When I recovered I found they were gone. I jumped up and ran along the passage and through the hall, where the women were screaming and crying, and then out of the house through the garden, and out of the gate. Then I saw four men at a short distance off carrying Mysa to a cart standing a hundred yards away. I ran up just as they laid her in it. One of them turned upon me with a dagger. I said:
“‘Let me go with her, and I will be quiet. If not, I will scream; and if you kill me, it will only set the people on your traces.’
“The men hesitated, and I ran past them and climbed into the cart, and threw myself down by Mysa, and then they drove off.”
“It was brave and good of you, Ruth,” Jethro said, laying his hand on the girl’s shoulder; “but why did you not scream when you first came out of the gate? It might have brought aid and prevented Mysa from being carried off.”
“I thought of that,” Ruth said, “but there were numbers of rough men still coming in at the gate; and knowing how the people had been stirred up to anger against us, I did not know what might happen if I gave the alarm. Besides, I was not sure at first that these men, although they seemed so rough and violent, were not really friends, who were taking away Mysa to save her from the popular fury.”
“Yes, that might have been the case,” Jethro agreed. “At any rate, child, you acted bravely and well. We were hoping all along that you were with Mysa, for we knew what a comfort you would be to her. Only, as the women all declared you did not pass out after her, we did not see how that could be. And now, Mytis and Nite, you had better retire to your own cabin to rest; for though you have both kept up wonderfully, all this has been a great strain for you, and you are both looking fagged and heavy-eyed. To-night you can sleep in comfort; for, for the present, I think that there is no occasion whatever for the slightest anxiety.”
It was some time before Jethro and his companions lay down to sleep. They talked long and earnestly of the journey that lay before them; and when they had exhausted this topic, Chebron said:
“Till now, Jethro, I have not asked you about my father’s funeral. When is it to be? I have thought of it often, but as you did not speak I thought it better not to question you.”
“I was glad you did not,” Jethro replied. “It will be in about ten days’ time. As I believed you guessed, Chigron is embalming him; the process will not be completed for another four days, and, as you know, the relatives do not see the corpse after it is in the hands of the embalmer until it is swathed and in the coffin. Chigron has done so much that must have been against his conscience that I did not like him to be asked to allow you to break through that custom, which to him is a sort of religion; beside, dear lad, I thought it better for yourself not to renew your griefs by gazing on a lifeless face.