“That was the source of my anxiety, though I can still vie with many a younger man in vigor.  But, if you can overlook your lover’s grey hairs, perhaps you may be induced to weigh the words he now utters.  Of the faith and devotion of my soul I will say nothing.  No man of my years woos a woman, unless his heart’s strong impulse urges him on.  But there is something else which, meseems, is of equal import.  I said that I would lead you to my house.  Yonder it stands, a building firm and spacious enough; but from to-morrow a tent will be our home, the camp our dwelling-place, and there will be wild work enough within its bounds.  No one is secure, not even of life, least of all a woman, however strong she may be, who has made common cause with those against whom thousands murmur.  Your parents are dead, your brothers might protect you, but should the people lay hands on them, the same stones on which you cross the stream would drag you down into the depths with them.”

“And were I your wife, you also,” replied Miriam, her thick eye-brows contracting in a heavy frown.

“I will take the risk,” Hur answered.  “The destinies of all are in God’s hands, my faith is as firm as yours, and behind me stands the tribe of Judah, who follow me and Naashon as the sheep follow the shepherds.  Old Nun and the Ephraimites are with us, and should matters come to the worst, it would mean perishing according to God’s will, or in faithful union, power, and prosperity, awaiting old age in the Promised Land.”

Miriam fearlessly gazed full into his stern eyes, laid her hand on his arm, and answered:  “Those words are worthy of the man whom I have honored from childhood, and who has reared such sons; but I cannot be your wife.”

“You cannot?”

“No, my lord, I cannot.”

“A hard sentence, but it must suffice,” replied the other, his head drooping in sorrow; but Miriam exclaimed: 

“Nay, Hur, you have a right to ask the cause of my refusal, and because I honor you, I owe you the truth.  Another man of our race reigns in my heart.  He met me for the first time when I was still a child.  Like your son and grandson, he has lived among the Egyptians, but the summons of our God and of his father reached him as did the message to your sons, and like Uri and Bezaleel, he showed himself obedient.  If he still desires to wed me, I shall become his wife, if it is the will of the God whom I serve, and who shows me the favor of suffering me to hear his voice.  But I shall think of you with gratitude forever.”

Her large eyes had been glittering through tears as she uttered the words, and there was a tremor in the grey-haired lover’s voice as he asked in hesitating, embarrassed tones: 

“And if the man for whom you are waiting—­I do not ask his name—­shuts his ears to the call that has reached him, if he declines to share the uncertain destiny of his people?”

“That will never happen!” Miriam interrupted, a chill creeping through her veins, but Hur exclaimed: