She set her box upon an outstanding edge of stone and
devoted herself to him. Drawing his head back until it rested against
her bosom, with tender hands she dressed the injured optic with balm
from the box.
Kenkenes from his aery watched her, noting with a softening countenance
the almost maternal love that beautified her face. Now and then she
spoke soothingly as the boy flinched, but her words were so softly said
that the sculptor did not catch them. The eye dressed, she covered it
with the bandage and the pair separated. It was with some regret that
Kenkenes saw her turn to leave the spot. But at that moment the
taskmaster rode into the open space. She made a sign of salutation and
paused at a word from him. Kenkenes fancied that her face had sobered
and he looked down on the cowled head and shoulders of the overseer,
wrathfully wondering if the Egyptian had played the master so harshly
that Rachel dreaded him. Presently the man dismounted; and though his
back was turned toward Kenkenes, the young sculptor knew by his stature
that he was not the soldier who had first governed the quarries. The
young man watched him excitedly but there was no display of tyranny or
even authority in the taskmaster's manner.
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