Hosea must arrive from that direction.

But she heard nothing save the footsteps of a sentinel and the voice of
Hur, who was patrolling the camp with a body of armed men.

He, too, had been unable to stay in the house.

The night was mild and starry, the time seemed just suited for dreams under the sycamore.  Her bench beneath the venerable tree was empty, and with drooping head she approached the beloved resting-place, which she must leave forever on the morrow.

But ere she had reached the spot so close at hand, she paused with her figure drawn up to its full height and her hand pressed upon her throbbing bosom.  This time she was not mistaken, the beat of hoofs echoed on the air, and it came from the north.

Were Pharaoh’s chariots approaching to attack the camp?  Should she shout to wake the warriors?  Or could it be he whom she so longingly expected?  Yes, yes, yes!  It was the tramp of a single steed, and must be a new arrival; for there were loud voices in the tents, the dogs barked, and shouts, questions, and answers came nearer and nearer with the rider.

It was Hosea, she felt sure.  His riding alone through the night, released from the bonds that united him to Pharaoh and his comrades in arms, was a sign of his obedience!  Love had steeled his will and quickened the pace of his steed, and the gratitude of answering affection, the reward she could bestow, should be withheld no longer.  In her arms he should blissfully perceive that he had resigned great possessions to obtain something still fairer and sweeter!  She felt as though the darkness around had suddenly brightened into broad day, as her ear told her that the approaching horseman was riding straight toward the house of her host Amminadab.  She now knew that he was obeying her summons, that he had come to find her.  Hosea was seeking her ere he went to his own father, who had found shelter in the big empty house of his grandson, Ephraim.

He would gladly have dashed toward her at the swiftest pace of his steed, but it would not do to ride rapidly through the camp.  Ah, how long the time seemed ere she at last saw the horseman, ere he swung himself to the ground, and his companion flung the reins of the horse to a man who followed him.

It was he, it was Hosea!

But his companion—­she had recognized him distinctly and shrank a little —­his companion was Hur, the man who a few hours before had sought her for his wife.

There stood her two suitors side by side in the starlight, illumined by the glare of the pitch torches blazing beside the carts and household utensils which had been packed for the morrow’s journey.

The tall figure of the elder Hebrew towered over the sinewy form of the warrior, and the shepherd prince bore himself no whit less erect than the Egyptian hero.  Both voices sounded earnest and manly, yet her lover’s seemed to Miriam stronger and deeper.  They had now advanced so near that she could understand their conversation.