Here, however, he interrupted himself; for Miriam, who at first had listened with open ears and sparkling eyes, now showed a more and more anxious and troubled mien.  When he at last spoke of making the people happy as her husband, she withdrew her hand, gazed timidly at his manly features, glowing with joyful excitement, and then as if striving to maintain her calmness, fixed her eyes upon the ground.

Without suspecting what was passing in her mind, Hosea drew nearer.  He supposed that her tongue was paralyzed by maidenly shame at the first token of favor she had bestowed upon a man.  But when at his last words, designating himself as the true messenger of God, she shook her head disapprovingly, he burst forth again, almost incapable of self-control in his sore disappointment: 

“So you believe that the Lord has protected me by a miracle from the wrath of the mightiest sovereign, and permitted me to obtain from his powerful hand favors for my people, such as the stronger never grant to the weaker, simply to trifle with the joyous confidence of a man whom he Himself summoned to serve Him.”

Miriam, struggling to force back her tears, answered in a hollow tone:  “The stronger to the weaker!  If that is your opinion, you compel me to ask, in the words of your own father:  ’Who is the more powerful, the Lord our God or the weakling on the throne, whose first-born son withered like grass at a sign from the Most High.  Oh, Hosea!  Hosea!’”

“Joshua!” he interrupted fiercely.  “Do you grudge me even the name your God bestowed?  I relied upon His help when I entered the palace of the mighty king.  I sought under God’s guidance rescue and salvation for the people, and I found them.  But you, you . . . .”

“Your father and Moses, nay, all the believing heads of the tribes, see no salvation for us among the Egyptians,” she answered, panting for breath.  “What they promise the Hebrews will be their ruin.  The grass sowed by us withers where their feet touch it!  And you, whose honest heart they deceive, are the whistler whom the bird-catcher uses to decoy his feathered victims into the snare.  They put the hammer into your hand to rivet more firmly than before the chains which, with God’s aid, we have sundered.  Before my mind’s eye I perceive . . . .”

“Too much!” replied the warrior, grinding his teeth with rage.  “Hate dims your clear intellect.  If the bird-catcher really—­what was your comparison—­if the bird-catcher really made me his whistler, deceived and misled me, he might learn from you, ay, from you!  Encouraged by you, I relied upon your love and faith.  From you I hoped all things—­and where is this love?  As you spared me nothing that could cause me pain, I will, pitiless to myself, confess the whole truth to you.  It was not alone because the God of my fathers called me, but because His summons reached me through you and my father that I came.  You yearn for a land in the far uncertain distance, which