"But," said the tschorbadji, who joined them at that moment, "what is to come of all this, if the prisoners do not submit?"

"Their heads shall fall upon the block to-morrow morning, at the hour of prayer," said Mohammed, in so firm and clear a voice that his words were heard by Cousrouf Pacha, who had just entered the hall.

"He is right, tschorbadji," said he, bowing his head with great dignity. "Yes, he is right! If the rabble are rebellious, let the heads of some of them fall! Order and law must reign! Many-headed is the hydra, and it is no great misfortune if a few of their brawling heads are hewn off!"

"Allah is great! His will be done," said the tschorbadji. "I do not wish the court-yard of my dwelling to be stained with blood. I do not wish to rule harshly and unmercifully in the evening of my life, after governing my people so many years by mild and gentle rule."

"There you are wrong," said Cousrouf Pacha; "mildness and gentleness do not become a ruler; only by severity and an unbending will can he exalt himself to power, and, even when he reaches the goal, he must trust to arms, if he is to maintain himself."

"And if with sword and dagger he reaches the throne," said Osman, looking gently and reproachfully at the proud pacha, "may he then hope to hear music and hymns of praise, or must he not then only expect to hear cries of anguish uttered by those over whose heads he strode to power? He could not then expect to see a fair and blooming land, but a land full of corpses and blood! No, no, Cousrouf Pacha!

I desire not to reach that height. I will rather dwell in the valleys-in the shadow of the cliffs on the sea shore-and gather shells, and revel in the gladness and delight of a modest and quiet existence."

"And you, Mohammed," said the pacha, smiling scornfully, "what is your ambition? Will you gather shells upon the sea-shore with Osman, or will you climb the heights with me to a splendid goal?"

Mohammed turned his eyes entirely away from the pacha, nodded to his friend Osman, and said: "I will tread my own path alone. Where fate will lead me I know not. I seek no companionship, and will follow no man's lead. From time to time, I may turn aside from my path, and wander, with joy and gladness, with my only friend, on the sea- shore, and seek for shells, and revel in the delights of a modest and quiet life."

With a kindly glance, Osman extended his hand, as if in a grateful greeting.

The men of Praousta continued to pass before the iron cage, and the sheik still appealed to them to be firm, and not to sacrifice their rights.

Suddenly the sun disappeared, and night came down upon the earth.

The prisoners said their evening prayers in a loud voice, and when, from the minarets of Praousta, the call of the muredin rang out on the air, the prisoners commenced singing, firmly and devoutly: "God is great! There is no God but our God, and Mohammed is his prophet!

Come to prayer! Come to be healed! God is just! There is no God but our God!" And from the village of Praousta the solemn hymn was echoed back: "God is just! There is no God but our God!" Then all was silent, and the night, like a silver veil, wrapped the earth in its folds.

In the house of the tschorbadji all was still; it was the custom to retire early and to rise with the sun. God, in His goodness, created the night for repose. The moon is a sacred lantern, which God hangs over a sleeping world, and the stars are the eyes of the guardian angels watching over the helpless sleepers. Therefore, is it well to go to rest with the setting sun.

Profound silence reigned in Cavalla, in the palace of the governor, and in the village of Praousta the men were at the mosque, praying that Allah would vouchsafe them wisdom for the duties of the coming day. To the slender female kneeling in the mosque they whispered: "Soften your father's heart, maiden, and beseech him to allow us to obey this hard command."

Did she understand? Was there comfort or encouragement in these words? She bowed her head still lower, and sobbed beneath her veil; she knew too well her father's immovable will, and that he preferred death to submission.

The court-yard was quiet. The tachorbadji had offered to place two sentinels before the gate of the enclosure, but Mohammed declined the offer. "I alone must complete that which I alone began. I pledged you my honor, tschorbadji, that I would subdue this rebellion, and I alone will guard the prisoners. I will trust no man but myself. Who knows but that the men of Praousta may try to storm the enclosure? They are crafty and deceitful. I know them well, and will myself guard the prisoners."

"Allow, at least, some of the soldiers to relieve you during the night in this hard service."

"No service which honor and duty require is hard," said Mohammed, proudly. "Let the soldiers sleep, I will keep watch."

Osman gave him a long and searching look, as if he would read the purpose of his soul; and, strange to say, Mohammed turned his face aside to avoid his friend's keen eye. Was it only from a sense of honor and duty that Mohammed undertook the lonely watch? Or did he hope the clear moonlight would reveal some other beautiful picture than the golden plateau, and the great shadows thrown upon it by the palace? When night had fully settled down upon the earth, Mohammed crept forward in the shadow of the palace, to a large rock which stood at the entrance of the court-yard; there he concealed himself, and waited. What was he waiting for? From that point he could overlook the courtyard, and, by leaning forward, he could also see the stairway in the rock. Why did he turn his head in that direction so often? Why did he suddenly shrink back, and why did his heart tremble as he saw a white figure, illuminated by the moon, advancing? Mohammed cowered still lower behind the rock.

Probably she did not see him, and supposed the moon and the stars only had seen her glide softly through the gateway, and into the court-yard.

The veiled virgin now walks through the court-yard to the iron railing; kneels down upon the mosaic pavement, and, raising her hands, whispers softly:

"Father, my beloved father, do you hear your daughter's voice?"

Mohammed bows his head, and listens in breathless suspense, his heart throbbing wildly.

"I hear you, my daughter," replied the sheik, in a quiet tone. "I expected you, for I know my Masa's heart well."

"Masa," murmured Mohammed; "what a beautiful, glorious name! It falls like music upon my ear, and makes my heart beat strangely.

What does this mean? Allah, protect thy servant!"

Against his will, he still listens to this heavenly voice that now entreats her father to yield, to submit to the inevitable. But the sheik, as she continued her supplications, commanded silence, and forbade her to burden his heart with her tears.

"Life, my daughter, is but a short span; but eternity is long, and woe to those who have not done their duty during that short period!

They will suffer for it throughout eternity, for Allah is strong in his wrath, and just in his punishment. I have sworn that I will watch over the welfare of my community while I live, and Sheik Alepp will keep his word to the end of his life."

"But, father, beloved father!" urged the maiden, "you have also sworn to be a parent and a guardian to me all the days of your life.

Keep this oath, too; save your life, in order to save mine. Then you must know, my father, that Masa will not remain on the earth if you leave it. Your child has naught upon this earth but you; early was my mother taken, and it has become lonely in Sheik Alepp's harem. My father said: 'I will not take in a strange woman: no second wife shall ever fill the place in my heart that has been wholly consecrated to my dear Masa. My only child shall not have to suffer from the severity and caprice of a strange woman.' This was nobly said and nobly done, my father, to devote your entire life to your child, and to the duties of guardian of your people. But hear me, father: what is to become of your daughter when she is left alone upon the earth? Sorrow and want will be my portion, and I should wither away unseen, and be trodden under foot upon the wayside, without one sympathizing voice to bemoan my early death."

Mohammed still crouched within the shadow of the cliff, his eyes sparkling like the stars in heaven, but the maiden saw them not, nor could she know the exultation in his heart.

"You should not wither away unseen and unlamented upon the wayside.

I would draw you to my bosom, and there you should bloom in fragrance, my heavenly blossom, and my whole life would lament over you if you should leave the earth."

In the silence of the night the youth still listened to the conversation between father and daughter--to the tender entreaties of the maiden, to the father's stern and earnest words; he heard also the whispering voices of the ulemas, who, awakened by the conversation, betook themselves to repeating prayers, in order that they might not hear what passed between father and daughter at this solemn moment.

Now Masa ceased speaking; a few stifled sobs, a few trembling words only, could be distinguished. But the sheik remained firm and unyielding.

"I cannot, Masa. Right gladly would I remain and live with you, and gladden my eyes with your lovely countenance, gladly would I still continue to hear the voice that call to me in the loved tones of my Aga, and is to my ear the sweetest music, but the claims of duty are paramount, and what duty commands man must perform. Allah so wills it. Allah be praised! The sheik cannot counsel his people to yield to force; he must wait patiently in the path of his duty. The result is in Allah's hand, and Allah is great and mighty. Allah il Allah!"

"Allah il Allah!" repeated the three ulemas.

Rising from his knees, the sheik now proceeded to give, with a loud voice, the second call, the ebed, for he saw that rosy streaks were beginning to shoot out over the horizon, and he knew that the sun would rise from out the sea in an hour; it was therefore time to pronounce the ebed.

"I praise the perfection of God who endures for ever and ever, the perfection of the living, the only and the highest God. The perfection of the God who, in his great kingdom, takes unto himself neither wife, nor an associate, nor one who resembles him, nor one who is disobedient, nor a substitute, nor an equal, nor a descendant--his perfection I praise; and praised be his name! He is a God who knew what was to be, before it became what it is, and what has been; and he is as he was in the beginning. His perfection I praise, and praised be his name; he is a God without equal. There is no one who is equal to the good God; there is no one who is equal to the great God; there is no God beside thee, O God, whom we must adore, praise, desire, and glorify! I praise the perfection of him who has made all creatures, who preserves and provides them with food, and has determined the end of the lives of his servants. O God, the good, the gracious, the great, forget not one of them."

The ulemas now arose, and with powerful voices began the following monotonous chant:

"I praise the perfection of Him who by his power and greatness causes pure water to flow from the solid rock; the perfection of Him who spoke to our master, Moses, on the mountain, whereupon the mountain crumbled to dust out of fear of God, whose name be praised as the one and the only one. There is no God but God, and he is a righteous judge. I praise the justice of the first, peace and comfort be with you; and you of the friendly countenance, O ambassador of God, peace be with you, and with your family and companions, O you prophet! God is great, and God favors, and preserves, and glorifies the great prophet Mohammed. And may God, whose name be blessed and praised, be pleased with you, O Mohammed, and with all those favored with the wine of God! Amen!"[Footnote: See the Koran.]

"Amen! Amen! Amen!" repeated the ulemas, and the maiden whispered it after them. And, within the shadow of the cliff, Mohammed Ali, who had reverently repeated the ebed in a low voice, murmured Amen.

"And now, my daughter," said the sheik, in a loud voice, "I command you to go down to Praousta, and to conceal yourself within the harem of my house, and there to await in patience and submission, as beseems a woman, the events of the morrow, the day of the Lord and of the judgment. Go, my child, and the blessing of Allah be with you!"

Mohammed looked forth from behind the cliff, and beheld the veiled figure bending down and grasping the old man's hand through the bars of the cage; he then heard the father's parting blessing, and his daughter's low sobs.

Now she arose, and, bathed in the full lustre of the moon, glided softly through the court-yard. She seemed to him like one of the welis, or spirits blessed of God, as she swept past the cliff behind which Mohammed stood, and passed with inaudible footsteps toward the rocky stairway.

CHAPTER III

THE FIRST DAY OF CREATION.

Noiselessly, her feet scarcely touching the ground, the veiled figure swept onward. The light of the moon enveloped her as with a silver veil, and the stars gazed at her wonderingly, as if to follow with their eyes the lovely being who walks on in solitude through the darkness of night.

She did not fear the solitude, for the welis guarded the innocent maiden, and kept from her the evil spirits and ghins.