Thamar's words appeared to impress Ra'hel; she examined Tahoser more attentively. The lamp shed upon her its trembling rays, and the delicate form of the priest's daughter showed in the yellow light relaxed in sleep. The arm which Thamar had raised still rested upon the mantle of striped wool, showing whiter by contrast with the dark stuff; the wrist was circled with a bracelet of sandal wood, the commonplace adornment of the coquetry of poverty; but if the ornament was rude and roughly chased, the flesh it covered seemed to have been washed in the perfumed bath of riches. Then Ra'hel saw how beautiful was Tahoser, but the discovery excited no evil feeling in her heart; Tahoser's beauty softened, instead of irritating her as it did Thamar; she could not believe that such perfection concealed a vile and perfidious soul; and in this respect her youthful candour judged more correctly than the long experience of her maid. Day at last dawned, and Tahoser's fever grew worse. She was delirious at times, and then would fall into a prolonged slumber. "If she were to die here," said Thamar, "we should be accused of having killed her." "She will not die," replied Ra'hel, putting a cup of cool water to the lips of the sick girl. "If she does, I shall throw her body by night into the Nile," continued the obstinate Thamar, "and the crocodiles will undertake to make it disappear." The day passed, the night came, and at the accustomed hour Poeri, having given the usual signal, appeared as he had done the night before on the threshold of the hut. Ra'hel came to meet him, her finger on her lips, and signed to him to keep silence and to speak low, for Tahoser was sleeping. Poeri, whom Ra'hel led by the hand to the bed on which Tahoser rested, at once recognised the sham Hora, whose disappearance had preoccupied him a good deal, especially since the visit of Timopht, who was looking for her in his master's name. Marked astonishment showed in his face as he rose, after having bent over the bed to make quite certain that the young girl who lay there was the one whom he had welcomed, for he could not understand how she happened to be in this place. His look of surprise smote Ra'hel to the heart. She stood in front of Poeri to read the truth in his eyes, placed her hands upon his shoulders, and fixing her glance upon him, said, in a dry, sharp voice which contrasted with her speech, usually as gentle as the cooing of a dove,-- "So you know her?" Thamar grinned with satisfaction; she was proud of her perspicacity, and almost glad to see her suspicions as regarded the stranger partially justified. "Yes," replied Poeri, quietly. The bright eyes of the old woman sparkled with malicious curiosity. Ra'hel's face resumed its expression of trustfulness; she no longer doubted her lover.