His soldiers, who had been taken with him, were thrust also into cages, and, with himself laden upon camels that were waiting, two cages to each camel.

Then a cloth was thrown over them, and, rising to their feet, the camels began to march.
When they had covered a league or more of ground Aziel learned from the motion of the camel upon which he was secured, and the sound of the repeated blows of its drivers, that they were ascending some steep place.

At length they reached the top of it, and were unloaded from the beasts like merchandise, but he could see nothing, for by now the night had fallen.

Then, still in the cages, they were carried to a tent, where food and water were given them through the bars, after which, so weary was Aziel with war, misery and the remains of recent illness, that he fell asleep.
At daybreak he awoke, or rather was awakened, by the sound of a familiar voice, and, looking through his bars, perceived Metem standing before them, guarded but unbound, with indignation written on his face, and tears in his quick eyes.
"Alas!" he cried, "that I should have lived to see the seed of Israel and Pharaoh thus fastened like a wild beast in a den, while barbarians make a mock of him.

Oh! Prince, it were better that you should die rather than endure such shame." "Misfortunes are the master of man, not man of his misfortunes, Metem," said Aziel quietly, "and in them is no true disgrace.