"Thou hast journeyed farther than Israel, and Israel is most weary. I trust thy journey is done." And this was the confounder of Egypt, the vicar of God--this kindly noble! "Not yet, O Prince; but its dearest mission endeth here. I come of the blood of the oppressors, but I am full of pity for thy people's wrongs. Knowest thou that the Egyptians pursue thee? Is thy hand made strong with resource? Hath the Lord God prepared thee against them?" "From whom art thou sent?" the Israelite asked pointedly. "I am come of mine own accord." "Wherefore?" "Because I am one with Israel in faith." The great Lawgiver surveyed him in silence for a moment, but the penetrative brilliance in his eyes softened. "Wast thou taught?" he asked at last. "In casting away the idols, nay; in finding the true God, I was." In the pause that followed, Israel lifted up its voice, and to Kenkenes it seemed that the people besought their great captain, urgingly and chidingly. The Lawgiver listened for a little space. His gaze was absent, the lines of his face were sad. Something in his attitude seemed to say, "What profiteth all Thy care, O Lord? Behold Thy chosen--these men of little faith!" Then, as if some thought of the young proselyte, the Egyptian, arose in contrast, his eyes came back to Kenkenes again. "Thou hast filled me with gladness, my son," he said simply. Kenkenes bowed his head and made no answer. Presently the Israelite spoke to the panic-stricken people nearest to him. In the tone and the words he used there was a world of paternal kindliness--a composite of confidence, reassurance, and implied protection, that should have soothed. "Fear ye not; stand still and see the salvation of the Lord. For the Egyptians ye have seen this day, ye shall see again no more for ever." At the words, Kenkenes lifted his head quickly. The Hebrew had answered his question, but how enigmatically! Was Israel to escape, or Har-hat to be destroyed? In either case, the young man wondered concerning himself. Again the eyes of the Lawgiver returned to him, as if the sight of the young Egyptian was grateful to him. "Abide with us," he said. "Saith not thy faith, 'Fear not; the Lord shall fight for thee?'" Kenkenes' face wore a startled expression; how had the Israelite divined his purpose? "Saith not thy faith?" Faith? He confessed faith, but faith had not spoken that thing to him. Slowly and little by little it began to manifest itself to him, that he had wavered in his trust; that the purpose of his visit to Israel had questioned the fidelity of his God's care; that so surely had he doubted, he had defied danger and fought with death to ask after the intent of the Lord; that he had meant to perform the duty which the Lord had left undone. The realization came with a rush of shame. In the asking he had betrayed his wavering, and Moses had tactfully told him of it. A surge of color swept over his face.