everyone in whose veins flowed the sacred blood of the Prophet. And, in truth, the simple story needs no adventitious colouring to touch the heart. [Sidenote: Hosein’s preparations for defence. 9 Moharram. Oct. 9.] Hosein obtained a day’s respite to send away his relatives from the fated camp. But, one and all, they refused to listen to his entreaty that they would leave him. During the night, his sister Zeinab overheard what was going forward, for his servant was furbishing her brother’s sword, and singing the while snatches of martial verse on the impending combat. Hastily drawing her mantle around her, she stole in the dark to her brother’s tent, and flinging herself upon him in wild grief, beat her breast and face, and fell into a swoon. Hosein poured water on her temples; but it was little that he could do to comfort her. The tents were rudely staked together, and some petty barricades of wood and reeds--the burning of which might briefly check the onset--piled around; a poor defence against the overwhelming foe. Aly, Hosein’s little son, lay sick of a fever, but there was no drop of water to slake his parched lips. The women and children passed the night in fear and crying. [Sidenote: Hosein attacked, and, with all his company, slain. 10 Moharram, A.H. LXI. Oct. 10, A.D. 680.] On the morning of the fatal tenth of Moharram, Hosein drew out his little band for battle. There was a parley; and again he offered to retire, or be led to the presence of the Caliph. Finding that it was all in vain, he alighted from his camel; and, surrounded by his kinsmen, who stood with firm front for his defence, resolved to sell life dear. At length, one shot an arrow from the Kûfic side, and, amid the wailing of the women and little ones, the unequal fight began. Arrows flew thick, and the forlorn company had its numbers gradually thinned. Hosein’s nephew, Câsim by name, a lad of about ten years of age, betrothed to his daughter Fâtima, was early struck by an arrow, and died in the arms of his uncle. One after another, the grown-up sons of Hosein, his brothers, nephews, and cousins, fell before the shafts of the enemy. Some fled for shelter behind the camp. The reeds were set on fire, and the flames, spreading to the tents, added new horror to the scene. For long, none dared to attack Hosein, and to the last it was hoped that he might yet surrender. Towards the close of the conflict, driven by thirst, he sought to gain the river-bank. The troops closed in behind, and he was cut off from his family. The ‘cursed’ Shamir then led the attack. Struck by an arrow, Hosein fell to the ground, and the Kûfic cavalry rode ruthlessly across the corpse. [Sidenote: Trunkless heads cast before the Governor of Kûfa.]