The vein on Joshua’s brow swelled, and he wrathfully rebuked the youth for denying his own blood, and being a traitor to his people.
The guard commanded silence, for Joshua had raised his reproving voice louder, and this order seemed welcome to the defiant youth. When, during their march, his uncle looked sternly into his face or asked whether he had thought of his words, he turned angrily away, and remained mute and sullen until the first star had risen, the night camp had been made under the open sky, and the scanty prison rations had been served.
Joshua dug with his hands a resting place in the sand, and with care and skill helped the youth to prepare a similar one.
Ephraim silently accepted this help; but as they lay side by side, and the uncle began to speak to his nephew of the God of his people on whose aid they must rely, if they were not to fall victims to despair in the mines, the youth interrupted him, exclaiming in low tones, but with fierce resolution:
“They will not take me to the mines alive! I would rather die, while making my escape, than pine away in such wretchedness.”
Joshua whispered words of warning, and again reminded him of his duties to his people. But Ephraim begged to be let alone; yet soon after he touched his uncle and asked softly:
“What are they planning with Prince Siptah?”
“I don’t know; nothing good, that is certain.”
“And where is Aarsu, the Syrian, your foe, who commands the Asiatic mercenaries, and who was to watch us with such fierce zeal? I did not see him with the others.”
“He remained in Tanis with his troops.”