The task-master on his spirited little steed was here, there, everywhere; now giving out the words of the chant, to which, dropping his bridle, he clapped his hands in time; now directing a broken lever to be replaced, the position of a roller altered, a hook secured, a rope greased, or a fainting labourer revived by smart application of the lash. The sun was high, the heat suffocating; even Sarchedon, inured to the toils of war, longed for any catastrophe, however dangerous, that might release him from the insupportable hardships of his task.
The sand became softer, the men more fatigued, the ponderous image rocked, wavered, and stood still. In terror of the lash, a simultaneous effort was made, a cable snapped, and some score of Israelites were hurled panting to the earth.
Amongst them fell the younger son of Sadoc, a weakly stripling, whose labour Sarchedon, working between him and his brother, had endeavoured to spare by his own exertions. When the others scrambled to their feet, this lad lay prostrate, too faint to rise.
The task-master arrived at the scene of disorder almost as quickly as the casualty took place. His eye glared fiercely on the boy's slender shoulders, bare to the waist; his hand went up to strike; but even while the lash whistled round his head, the Egyptian's wrist was clasped by an iron grip, that shook him in the saddle where he sat. Sarchedon's eye looked very fierce and resolute, his arms seemed powerful enough to have torn the threatening horseman limb from limb.
The latter foamed with rage while he struggled to release himself from the Assyrian's grasp. The Israelites gathered round, the guard of bowmen were fairly shut out by the crowd, a thousand tongues clamoured, a thousand eyes glared vengeance, and the mocking colossus looked down on all that turmoil with its eternal inscrutable smile.
"By the Queen of Heaven, if you move a finger, or speak a syllable, I will strangle you on the spot!" said Sarchedon, in those low distinct tones men use when they mean to waste little more breath on words.
There was enough similitude in their languages for the Egyptian to understand his meaning; but had it not been so, he could scarce have mistaken the other's attitude and bearing. The oath too, and the man's determined face so close to his own, warned him that this was no Israelitish slave, but one of those formidable enemies from the North, before whom he had seen the choicest of Pharaoh's bowmen turn and flee.
What could it mean? What did this stranger in the land of Egypt, naturalised, it would seem, amongst her slaves? This was no time to inquire while those slaves crowded round so wildly, as though eager for an outbreak, of which his life would too surely be the prey. Men learned discretion in the service of the Pharaoh's, and though he trembled and turned pale, he did not lose his presence of mind.
"Lift the youth from the ground," said he earnestly, "and take care of him if you be indeed his brother. Bring here water!" he added, raising his voice—"wine, if you have it. Stand off from him, Israelites, and give him air! Make way, there, for the bowmen to bring him help!"
Thus craftily summoning the guards to his assistance, he extricated himself from the perplexity of his position, and ordering the youth's brother to take him home, excused from farther labour, resumed the direction of affairs; but during the rest of the day blows fell less thickly among the Israelites, and the solemn senseless image made a shorter journey than usual towards its final resting-place.