Domes and minarets were everywhere in this town of Wazzan. It seemed to be a place of mosques and saints' houses. Where the wide arch and the trough of the mosque were not, there was the open door in the low white-washed wall of the saint's house, surmounted by its white flag. In my dazed condition, I was sometimes in danger of stumbling into such places unawares. At the instant of recovered consciousness I always remembered the warnings of my guide as I stood by the house of Sidi Gali at Tangier: "Sacred place? Yes, sacred. No Nazarene may enter it. But Moslems, yes, Moslems may fly here for sanctuary. Life to the Moslem, death to the Nazarene. So it is." Oh, it is an awful thing to feel that death is waiting for you constantly, that at any moment, at any turn, at any corner it may be upon you! Such was my state as I walked on that evening, waiting for the sunset, through the streets of Wazzan. At one moment I was conscious of a sound in my ears above the din of traffic--the _Arrah_ of the ass-drivers, the _Bálak_ of the men riding mules, and the general clamor of tongues. It was the steady beat of a footstep close behind me. I knew whose footstep it was. I turned about quickly, and Larby was again face to face with me. He met my gaze with the same cold, glittering look. My impulse was to fly at his throat, but that I dare not do. I knew myself to be a coward, and I remembered the Moorish prison. "Larby," I said, "what do you want?" "Nothing, Sidi, nothing," he answered. "Then why are you following me like this?" "Following you, Sidi?" The fellow raised his eyebrows and lifted both hands in astonishment. "Yes, following me, dogging me, watching me, tracking me down. What does it mean? Speak out plainly." "Sidi is jesting," he said, with a mischievous smile. "Is not this Wazzan--the holy city of Wazzan? Sidi is looking at the streets, at the mosques, at the saints' houses. So is Larby. That is all." One glance at the man's evil eyes would have told you that he lied. "Which way are you going?" I asked. "This way." With a motion of the head he indicated the street before him. "Then I am going to this," I said, and I walked away in the opposite direction. I resolved to return to the English Consul, to tell him everything, and claim his protection. Though all the Moorish authorities in Morocco were in league with this religious monomaniac, yet surely there was life and safety under English power for one whose only offense was that of being witness to a crime which might lead to a claim for indemnity. _That it should come to this, and I of all men should hear it! God help me! God lead me! God give me light! Light, light, O God; give me light!_ IV