Presently we were ushered into the chamber of the lady Merapi, where she sat looking most sad and lonely, with a veil of black upon her head.
"Greeting, my uncle," she said, after glancing at me, whose presence I think she understood.

"Are you the bearer of more prophecies?
I pray not, since your last were overtrue," and she touched the black veil with her finger.
"I am the bearer of tidings, and of a prayer, Niece.

The tidings are that the people of Israel are about to leave Egypt.

The prayer, which is also a command, is--that you make ready to accompany them----" "To Laban ?" she asked, looking up.
"No, my niece.

Laban would not wish as a wife one who has been the mistress of an Egyptian, but to play your part, however humble, in the fortunes of our people." "I am glad that Laban does not wish what he never could obtain, my uncle.