The first man to greet him in Tanis was Kasana’s father.  Instead of a friendly glance from her eyes, he had received from him tidings that pierced his inmost heart.  He had expected to bring home a wife, and the house where she was to reign as mistress was razed to the ground.  The father, for whose blessing he longed, and who was to have been gladdened by his advancement, had journeyed far away and must henceforward be the foe of the sovereign to whom he owed his prosperity.

He had been proud of rising, despite his origin, to place and power.  Now he would be able, as leader of a great host, to show the prowess of which he was capable.  His inventive brain had never lacked schemes which, if executed by his superiors, would have had good results; now he could fulfil them according to his own will, and instead of the tool become the guiding power.

These reflections had awakened a keen sense of exultation in his breast and winged his steps on his homeward march and, now that he had reached the goal, so long desired, must he turn back to join the shepherds and builders to whom—­it now seemed a sore misfortune—­he belonged by the accident of birth and ancestry, though, denial was futile, he felt as utterly alien to the Hebrews as he was to the Libyans whom he had confronted on the battle-field.  In almost every pursuit he valued, he had nothing in common with his people.  He had believed he might truthfully answer yes to his father’s enquiry whether he had returned a Hebrew, yet he now felt it would be only a reluctant and half-hearted assent.

He clung with his whole soul to the standards beneath which he had gone to battle and might now himself lead to victory.  Was it possible to wrench his heart from them, renounce what his own deeds had won?  Yet Eliab’s granddaughter had told him that the Hebrews expected him to leave the army and join them.  A message from his father must soon reach him—­ and among the Hebrews a son never opposed a parent’s command.

There was still another to whom implicit obedience was due, Pharaoh, to whom he had solemnly vowed loyal service, sworn to follow his summons without hesitation or demur, through fire and water, by day and night.

How often he had branded the soldier who deserted to the foe or rebelled against the orders of his commander as a base scoundrel and villain, and by his orders many a renegade from his standard had died a shameful death on the gallows under his own eyes.  Was he now to commit the deed for which he had despised and killed others?  His prompt decision was known throughout the army, how quickly in the most difficult situations he could resolve upon the right course and carry it into action; but during this dark and lonely hour of the night he seemed to himself a mere swaying reed, and felt as helpless as a forsaken orphan.

Wrath against himself preyed upon him, and when he thrust a spear into the flames, scattering the embers and sending a shower of bright sparks upward, it was rage at his own wavering will that guided his hand.