in the civil war.[503] The other widows of Mahomet residing at Mecca accompanied her a little way, and then returned. As they parted, the whole company, men and women, gave vent to their feelings, and wept bitterly at the louring fortunes of Islam; ‘there was no such weeping, before or after, as then; so that it was called _The Day of Tears_.’[504] [Sidenote: Ambition mingled with cry for revenge.] Questions even now began to arise as to which of the two, Talha or Zobeir, would in event of victory be the Caliph; but Ayesha, staying the strife, as premature, desired that Abdallah son of Zobeir should lead the prayers; and it was given out that, if success should crown their efforts, the choice of the future Caliph would be left, as heretofore, in the hands of the men of Medîna.[505] Saîd, with a body of the rebel troops, distrusting the motives of the leaders, turned aside at the last moment, and went back to Mecca. As the cavalcade swept by him, shouting that they were on their way to destroy the murderers of Othmân root and branch, Saîd cried out to Merwân: ‘Whither away? the proper objects of your vengeance are on the humps of their camels before your eyes.[506] Slay these, and return to your homes!’ It is not improbable that with many of the party, and notably with Talha and Zobeir, ambition, the ruling motive, was mistaken for the desire of a just revenge. In the whirl of passion and intrigue, party-cry too often takes the place of reason; and we need not doubt that both leaders and followers had wrought themselves up into the belief that punishment of the high treason enacted at Medîna was their real object. [Sidenote: Ayesha’s qualms of conscience.] Yet, notwithstanding all this parade of justice, the conscience of Ayesha was ill at ease. As they journeyed through the desert, her camel-driver beguiled the tedium of the long autumn nights by calling out the names of the hills and vales along which they passed. Approaching a Bedouin settlement the dogs as usual began to howl;--‘_The Valley of_ HAWÂB!’ cried the guide. Ayesha started and screamed. Something dreadful which Mahomet had spoken, about those at whom the dogs of Hawâb should bark, flashed across her memory or imagination. ‘Carry me back,’ she cried; and, making her camel kneel, she hastily alighted from her litter. ‘Alas and alas!’ she continued, ‘for I heard the Prophet say, reproaching us, as he sat surrounded by his wives one day: “_O that I knew which amongst you it is at whom the dogs of Hawâb will bark!_” It is me! I am the wretched Woman of Hawâb. I declare that I will not take another step on this ill-omened expedition.’ They sought to persuade her that the guide had mistaken the name; but she refused to stir, and the army halted for her a whole day. In despair, they bethought them of a stratagem. The following night, they raised the cry that Aly was upon them. The greater terror prevailing, Ayesha hastened to her camel, and the march was resumed.