"The water which we had stored with us is also corrupted. I fear we
shall thirst, if we have but wine to wet our lips," Rachel explained.
"Thou dost not tell me that ye abide in this place?" the fan-bearer's
daughter asked, taking the piece of fowl and hard bread which Rachel
offered her.
"Even so," Rachel responded after a little silence.
"Holy Isis! guests of a spirit! What a ghastly hospice for women! How
came ye here?"
For a moment there was silence, so marked that Masanath ceased her
dainty feeding and drew back a little.
"Are ye lepers?" she asked in a frightened voice.
"Nay, we are fugitives," Rachel answered.
"Fugitives! What strait brought you to seek such asylum as this?"
Again a speaking pause.
"Who art thou, Lady?" Rachel asked, at last.
"I am Masanath, daughter of Har-hat, fan-bearer to the Pharaoh."
"And thou art a friend of the oppressed?" the Israelite continued.
"It is my boast before the gods," the Egyptian answered with dignity.
"I am Rachel, of Israel, daughter of Maai, and I have fled from shame.
In all Egypt, this is the one and only refuge for such as I. If my
hiding-place were published, no help could save me from the despoiler.
My one protector is she who lies within.
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