Thus we started, I bearing the bundle of straw behind as he bade me, since, he said, having been gathered with such toil, it must not be lost.  On reaching the chariot, where we found the guide gone and the driver asleep, he sat her in it upon his cloak, and wrapped her in mine which he borrowed, saying I should not need it who must carry the straw.  Then he mounted also and they drove away at a foot’s pace.  As I walked after the chariot with the straw that fell about my ears, I heard nothing of their further talk, if indeed they talked at all which, the driver being present, perhaps they did not.  Nor in truth did I listen who was engaged in thought as to the hard lot of these poor Hebrews, who must collect this dirty stuff and bear it so far, made heavy as it was by the clay that clung about the roots.

Even now, as it chanced, we did not reach Goshen without further trouble.  Just as we had crossed the bridge over the canal I, toiling behind, saw in the clear moonlight a young man running towards us.  He was a Hebrew, tall, well-made and very handsome in his fashion.  His eyes were dark and fierce, his nose was hooked, his teeth where regular and white, and his long, black hair hung down in a mass upon his shoulders.  He held a wooden staff in his hand and a naked knife was girded about his middle.  Seeing the chariot he halted and peered at it, then asked in Hebrew if those who travelled had seen aught of a young Israelitish lady who was lost.

“If you seek me, Laban, I am here,” replied Merapi, speaking from the shadow of the cloak.

“What do you there alone with an Egyptian, Merapi?” he said fiercely.

What followed I do not know for they spoke so quickly in their unfamiliar tongue that I could not understand them.  At length Merapi turned to the Prince, saying: 

“Lord, this is Laban my affianced, who commands me to descend from the chariot and accompany him as best I can.”

“And I, Lady, command you to stay in it.  Laban your affianced can accompany us.”

Now at this Laban grew angry, as I could see he was prone to do, and stretched out his hand as though to push Seti aside and seize Merapi.

“Have a care, man,’ said the Prince, while I, throwing down the straw, drew my sword and sprang between them, crying: 

“Slave, would you lay hands upon the Prince of Egypt?”

“Prince of Egypt!” he said, drawing back astonished, then added sullenly, “Well what does the Prince of Egypt with my affianced?”

“He helps her who is hurt to her home, having found her helpless in the desert with this accursed straw,” I answered.

“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.