“I can walk as well as Chebron,” Mysa said. “You know that, Chebron. And I suppose I could suffer hardship just as well. At any rate, I would rather suffer anything and be with him and all of you than stop here. The people have murdered my father. My mother would sell me to the highest bidder. If the chances are so great that you will never get through your journey in safety, my being with you cannot make them so much greater. I have only Chebron in the world, and I will go where he goes and die where he dies. The gods can protect me just as well on a journey as here. Have they not protected you now, and Chebron too, by what he says? You will take me with you, dear Jethro, won’t you?” she urged pleadingly. “You say my father wished you to watch over me; do not forsake me now. Ruth will come with us too--will you not, Ruth?--I am sure she will not be more afraid of the journey than I am.” “I will assuredly go if you go, Mysa. The God of Israel can take us safely through all dangers if it be his will.” Jethro was silent. Such an addition to his charge would assuredly add immensely to the difficulties of the journey; but on the other hand he remembered the anxiety of Ameres about Mysa, and he asked himself what his late master would have wished had he known how matters stood. He glanced at Amuba and Chebron and saw at once that their wishes agreed with those of Mysa. He turned away abruptly, and for some minutes paced up and down the garden. Then he returned to the group, among whom not a word had been exchanged since he left them. “Mysa,” he said gravely, “this is a great thing that you ask; there is no disguising that your presence will add greatly to our difficulties, will add also to our perils, and may render it impossible for me to carry out your father’s wishes and to conduct Chebron to a land where he will be beyond the persecution of Egypt. Such an enterprise must be undertaken in no light spirit. If you go you must be prepared to face death in all forms--by hunger and thirst and the weapons of the wild natives. It may even be that your lot may be that of slavery among them. It is a terrible journey for men, more terrible still for women; still, if you are resolved, resolved with the strength and mind of a woman and not of a child, that after having once turned your back upon Egypt you will never repent the step you have taken or wish to return, but will be steadfast under all the trials that may befall us, then I say that you shall share our lot.” Mysa uttered an exclamation of joy. “I promise, Jethro; and whatever may happen--hardship, danger, or death--you shall never hear a word of complaint from me. Are you not glad, Ruth?” “I think it well,” Ruth said gravely. “It is a great undertaking; but I think that God’s hand is in it. I, too, would fain leave this land of idols; and except those here I have none in the world to care for.”