"Comes this way one a friend Of mine, and leaves his slippers at my door, Why then, 'tis his."

"And whose the hills that look Upon the plain?"

"My flocks go there at morn, And thence they come at night--I take my right Of Allah."

"No," the stranger mildly said, "'Twas Allah made them mine."

Frowned Ertoghrul, While darkened all the air; but from his side Full pleasantly the stranger took a sword, Its carven hilt one royal emerald, Its blade both sides with legends overwrought, Some from the Koran, some from Solomon, All by the cunning Eastern maker burned Into the azure steel-his sword he took, And held it, belt, and scabbard too, in sign Of gift.

"The herds, the plain, the hills were mine; But take thou them, and with them this in proof Of t.i.tle."

Lifted Ertoghrul his brows, And opened wide his eyes.

"Now who art thou?"

He asked in turn.

"Oh, I am Alaeddin-- Sometimes they call me Alaeddin the Great."

"I take thy gifts--the herds, the plain, the hills,"

Said Ertoghrul; "and so I take the sword; But none the less, if comes a need, 'tis thine.

Let others call thee Alaeddin the Great; To me and mine thou'rt Alaeddin the Good And Great."

With that, he kissed the good King's hand; And making merry, to the Sheik's dowar They rode. And thus from nothing came the small; And now the lonely vale which erst ye knew, And scorned, because it nursed the mountain's feet, Doth cradle mornings on the mountain's top.

_Mishallah!_

The quiet which held the company through the recitation endured a s.p.a.ce afterwards, and--if the expression be allowed--was in itself a commentary upon the performance.

"Where is our worthy Professor of Rhetoric?" asked Constantine.

"Here, Your Majesty," answered the man of learning, rising.

"Canst thou not give us a lecture upon the story with which thy Arabian brother hath favored us?"

"Nay, sire, criticism, to deal justly, waiteth until the blood is cool.

If the Sheik will honor me with a copy of his lines, I will scan and measure them by the rules descended to us from Homer, and his Attic successors."

The eyes of the Emperor fell next upon the moody, discontented face of Duke Notaras.

"My lord Admiral, what sayest thou of the tale?"

"Of the tale, nothing; of the story-teller--I think him an insolent, and had I my way, Your Majesty, he should have a plunge in the Bosphorus."

Presuming the Sheik unfamiliar with Latin, the Duke couched his reply in that tongue; yet the former raised his head, and looked at the speaker, his eyes glittering with intelligence--and the day came, and soon, when the utterance was relentlessly punished.

"I do not agree with you, my Lord," Constantine said, in a melancholy tone. "Our fathers, whether we look for them on the Roman or the Greek side, might have played the part of Ertoghrul. His was the spirit of conquest. Would we had enough of it left to get back our own!--Sheik,"

he added, "what else hast thou in the same strain? I have yet a little time to spare--though it shall be as our hostess saith."

"Nay," she answered, with deference, "there is but one will here."

And taking a.s.sent from her, the Sheik began anew.

EL JANN AND HIS PARABLE

_Bismillah!_

Ertoghrul pursued a wolf, And slew it on the range's tallest peak, Above the plain so high there was nor gra.s.s Nor even mosses more. And there he sat Him down awhile to rest; when from the sky, Or the blue ambiency cold and pure, Or maybe from the caverns of the earth Where Solomon the King is wont to keep The monster Genii hearkening his call, El Jann, vast as a cloud, and thrice as black, Appeared and spoke--

"Art thou Sheik Ertoghrul?"

And he undaunted answered: "Even so."

"Well, I would like to come and sit with thee."

"Thou seest there is not room for both of us."

"Then rise, I say, and get thee part way down The peak."

"'Twere easier," laughed Ertoghrul, "Madest thou thyself like me as thin and small; And I am tired."

A rushing sound ran round and up And down the height, most like the whir of wings Through tangled trees of forests old and dim.

A moment thus--the time a crisped leaf, Held, armlength overhead, will take to fall-- And then a man was sitting face to face With Ertoghrul.

"This is the realm of snow,"

He said, and smiled--"a place from men secure, Where only eagles fearless come to nest, And summer with their young."

The Sheik replied, "It was a wolf--a gaunt gray wolf, which long Had fattened on my flocks--that lured me here.

I killed it."

"On thy spear I see no blood; And where, O Sheik, the carca.s.s of the slain?

I see it not."

Around looked Ertoghrul-- There was no wolf; and at his spear-- Upon its blade no blood. Then rose his wrath, A mighty pulse.

"The spear hath failed its trust-- I'll try the cimeter."

A gleam of light-- A flitting, wind-borne spark in murk of night-- Then fell the sword, the gift of Alaeddin; Edge-first it smote the man upon his crown-- Between his eyes it sh.o.r.e, nor staying there, It cut his smile in two--and not yet spent, But rather gaining force, through chin and chine, And to the very stone on which he sat It clove, and finished with a bell-like clang Of silvern steel 'gainst steel.

"Aha! Aha!"-- But brief the shout; for lo! there was no stain Upon the blade withdrawn, nor moved the man, Nor changed he look or smile.

"I was the wolf That ran before thee up the mountain side; 'Twas I received thy spear as now thy sword; And know thou further, Sheik, nor wolf nor man Am I, nor mortal thing of any kind; Only a thought of Allah's. Canst thou kill A thought divine? Not Solomon himself Could that, except with thought yet more divine.

Yield thee thy rage; and when thou think'st of me Hereafter, be it as of one, a friend, Who brought a parable, and made display Before thee, saying-- "Lo! what Allah wills."

Therewith he dropped a seed scarce visible Into a little heap of sand and loam Between them drawn.

"Lo! Allah wills."

And straight The dust began to stir as holding life.

Again El Jann--