The air had grown sultry, but the guards kept awake and regularly relieved one another.  It was difficult to elude their attention; yet close by Ephraim’s couch, which his uncle, for greater comfort, had helped him make on the side of a gently sloping hill, a narrow ravine ran down to the valley.  White veins of gypsum and glittering mica sparkled in the moonlight along its bare edges.  If the agile youth could reach this cleft unseen, and crawl through as far as the pool of saltwater, overgrown with tall grass and tangled desert shrubs, at which it ended, he might, aided by the clouds, succeed.

After arriving at this conviction Joshua considered, as deliberately as if the matter concerned directing one of his soldiers on his way, whether he himself, in case he regained the use of his hands, could succeed in following Ephraim without endangering his project.  And he was forced to answer this question in the negative; for the guard who sometimes sat, sometimes paced to and fro on a higher part of the crest of the hill a few paces away, could but too easily perceive, by the moonlight, the youth’s efforts to loose the firmly-knotted bonds.  The cloud approaching the moon might perhaps darken it, ere the work was completed.  Thus Ephraim might, on his account, incur the peril of losing the one fortunate moment which promised escape.  Would it not be the basest of crimes, merely for the sake of the uncertain chance of flight, to bar the path to liberty of the youth whose natural protector he was?  So he whispered to Ephraim: 

“I cannot go with you.  Creep through the chasm at your right to the salt-pool.  I will watch the guards.  As soon as the cloud passes over the moon and I clear my throat, start off.  If you escape, join our people.  Greet my old father, assure him of my love and fidelity, and tell him where I am being taken.  Listen to his advice and Miriam’s; theirs is the best counsel.  The cloud is approaching the moon,—­not another word now!”

As Ephraim still continued to urge him in a whisper to hold up his pinioned arms, he ordered him to keep silence and, as soon as the moon was obscured and the guard, who was pacing to and fro above their heads began a conversation with the man who came to relieve him, Joshua cleared his throat and, holding his breath, listened with a throbbing heart for some sound in the direction of the chasm.

He first heard a faint scraping and, by the light of the fire which the guards kept on the hill-top as a protection against wild beasts, he saw Ephraim’s empty couch.

He uttered a sigh of relief; for the youth must have entered the ravine.  But though he strained his ears to follow the crawling or sliding of the fugitive he heard nothing save the footsteps and voices of the warders.