Ephraim had just spoken of the beautiful Egyptian, who had loved Hosea and at whose intercession the prisoner’s chains had been removed, when loud outcries were heard at a part of the strand where many of the people had gathered.  Shouts of joy mingled with yells of fury; and awakened the conjecture that the sea had washed some specially valuable prize ashore.

Curiosity drew both to the spot, and as Miriam’s stately bearing made the throng move respectfully aside, they soon saw the mournful contents of a large travelling-chariot, which had lost its wheels.  The linen canopy which had protected it was torn away, and on the floor lay two elderly Egyptian women; a third, who was much younger, leaned against the back of the vehicle thus strangely transformed into a boat.  Her companions lay dead in the water which had covered its floor, and several Hebrew women were in the act of tearing the costly gold ornaments from the neck and arms of one of the corpses.  Some chance had preserved this young woman’s life, and she was now giving her rich jewels to the Israelites.  Her pale lips and slender, half-frozen hands trembled as she did so, and in low, musical tones she promised the robbers to yield them all she possessed and pay a large ransom, if they would spare her.  She was so young, and she had shown kindness to a Hebrew surely they might listen to her.

It was a touching entreaty, but so often interrupted by threats and curses that only a few could hear it.  Just as Ephraim and Miriam reached the shore she shrieked aloud—­a rude hand had torn the gold serpent from her ear.

The cry pierced the youth’s heart like a dagger-thrust and his cheeks paled, for he recognized Kasana.  The bodies beside her were those of her nurse and the wife of the chief priest Bai.

Scarcely able to control himself, Ephraim thrust aside the men who separated him from the object of the moment’s assault, sprang on the sand-hill at whose foot the chariot had rested, and shouted with glowing cheeks in wild excitement: 

“Back!  Woe to any one who touches her!”

But a Hebrew woman, the wife of a brickmaker whose child had died in terrible convulsions during the passage through the sea, had already snatched the dagger from her girdle, and with the jeering cry “This for my little Ruth, you jade!” dealt her a blow in the back.  Then she raised the tiny blood-stained weapon for a second stroke; but ere she could give her enemy another thrust, Ephraim flung himself between her and her victim and wrenched the dagger from her grasp.  Then planting himself before the wounded girl, he swung the blade aloft exclaiming in loud, threatening tones: 

“Whoever touches her, you robbers and murderers, shall mingle his blood with this woman’s.”  Then he flung himself beside Kasana’s bleeding form, and finding that she had lost consciousness, raised her in his arms and carried her to Miriam.

The astonished plunderers speechlessly made way for a few minutes, but ere he reached the prophetess shouts of:  “Vengeance!  Vengeance!” were heard in all directions.  “We found the woman:  the booty belongs to us alone!—­How dares the insolent Ephraimite call us robbers and murderers?  —­Wherever Egyptian blood can be spilled, it must flow!—­At him!—­Snatch the girl from him!”