"Yes, they are standing there listening, and, if we should charge upon them, they would fire at us, and we should all be lost. No, we will be cautious; but this is certain, we will not pay the tax; the sheik has commanded it, and the ulemas have decided; therefore we will not pay." "No, we will not pay," repeated all the other men. No longer loud and defiant, but in low voices one to another, and their eyes turned suspiciously toward the three figures, and then up the mountain- path, toward the rocks behind which they believed the sharp-shooters were concealed. Mohammed looked also toward the mountain-path, and, seeing that the prisoners and their guard had reached the top of the mountain, he turned toward the fishermen "Ismail, Marut, Berutti," he cried, "do you not recognize me, you know Mohammed Ali, son of Ibrahim?" "Yes, we know you, and we would not have believed that the son of Ibrahim Aga could have become a spy upon his old friends." "I am not a spy, I am only a servant of that law and justice which you wish to violate. Step nearer, and listen to what I have to say to you." They came cautiously, hesitatingly, a few steps nearer, and again looked anxiously toward the mountain. "What have you to say, Mohammed, son of Ibrahim Aga?--but remember that one who--" "Silence!" commanded Mohammed; "I shall remember what is necessary, and I do not need the advice of rebels and rioters. I did not call upon you to speak, but to listen to what I have to say. Hearken, men of Praousta, in the name of the tschorbadji! I give you until early to-morrow morning to decide; if, at the hour of second prayers, you have not sent three men to the palace of the tschorbadji, double the amount that you have formerly paid, the sheik and the three ulemas will lose their heads for your disobedience, and you will be the murderers of four of the first men of Praousta." He slightly lowered his gleaming sword, and, as a farewell greeting, turned and walked up the mountain-path, not swiftly, not hastily, as if he feared the men would fall upon him, but slowly, step by step, not even glancing back to see if the crowd were following him, quietly, sword in hand, and in front of him the two collectors. BOOK II. PARADISE AND HELL. CHAPTER I THE FLOWER OF PRAOUSTA.