"Now I turn to you," said Mohammed, breathing more freely, and looking toward the sheik and the ulemas. "Will you murder us?" asked the sheik Alepp, as he looked with calm dignity at the young man. "No, if your blood must flow, so be it upon your own head," answered Mohammed, earnestly. "You alone shall decide your own life or death, and that of your three companions.--Come, soldiers, open this door; we go out this way." The soldiers obeyed, and opened the door on that side of the mosque which lay nearest the mountain stairway. The sheik and the ulemas, soldiers accompanying them, passed out, Mohammed in front of them, his drawn sword in his hand. Behind them came the collectors, with pikes in their hands. Silently they went on their way toward the mountain-path. The men who had waited, uncertain what to do, before the door of the mosque, now went round to the side, and with out-cries of rage pointed out to one another the road to the mountain-path. When Mohammed heard this outcry, he stood still, and motioned to the soldiers to go forward with the prisoners. "Remain at my side, collectors, we will cover the rear. Forward, now! go up the mountain." And while those went upward, Mohammed remained at the foot of the mountain. On either side the collectors, and in front of him all the fishermen of Praousta, more than fifty men, with threatening looks and burning eyes. But still, although they muttered and quarrelled, and even raised their fists, they dared not approach this young man, whose countenance was so determined, so full of energy, whose cheeks were so pale, and on whose mouth rested so threatening an expression. He must have appeared to them like the angel of death, and each one feared that if he approached he would sink down and die. Mohammed paid no attention to the threatening group of men. His eye looked beyond them--there, behind the men, where the veiled white figure stood, supported by two women. He looked toward her, and the ringing tones of the young girl's voice sounded in his heart, and he seemed to hear the words: "If you have a mother you love, then think of her!" He thought of her, and a deep sigh escaped his soul. But, still, he must be a man now. He had sworn to bring the rebels of Praousta back to obedience. He must keep his word, and he will do it. "If she has swooned away, she will awake and forget her grief. Women are readily grieved, but their grief is easily dissipated. She will know how to console herself; and as for me, I will forget her, I will never give her another thought." He said this defiantly to himself, and looked again at the men of Praousta, who were still standing irresolute and murmuring near the mosque, not daring to approach the three armed men. "He certainly would not have come alone, he would not dare to remain standing there, if his comrades were not concealed somewhere up there in the mountain."