“Forward, driver,” said the Prince, and Merapi added, “Peace, Laban, and bear the straw which his Highness’s companion has carried such a weary way.”
He hesitated a moment, then snatched up the bundle and set it on his head.
As we walked side by side, his evil temper seemed to get the better of him. Without ceasing, he grumbled because Merapi was alone in the chariot with an Egyptian. At length I could bear it no longer.
“Be silent, fellow,” I said. “Least of all men should you complain of what his Highness does, seeing that already he has avenged the killing of this lady’s father, and now has saved her from lying out all night among the wild beasts and men of the wilderness.”
“Of the first I have heard more than enough,” he answered, “and of the second doubtless I shall hear more than enough also. Ever since my affianced met this prince, she has looked on me with different eyes and spoken to me with another voice. Yes, and when I press for marriage, she says it cannot be for a long while yet, because she is mourning for her father; her father forsooth, whom she never forgave because he betrothed her to me according to the custom of our people.”
“Perhaps she loves some other man?” I queried, wishing to learn all I could about this lady.
“She loves no man, or did not a while ago. She loves herself alone.”
“One with so much beauty may look high in marriage.”
“High!” he replied furiously. “How can she look higher than myself who am a lord of the line of Judah, and therefore greater far than an upstart prince or any other Egyptian, were he Pharaoh himself?”
“Surely you must be trumpeter to your tribe,” I mocked, for my temper was rising.