Amzi, alone, of all his followers, seemed to stand aloof, half-believing, yet unwilling to proclaim his belief openly; simply waiting, as he had waited all his life, to see the truth, yet too indolent to set out bravely in the quest. He preferred to look on from aside; to weigh and calculate motives, actions and results; to judge men by their fruits, though the doing so called for long waiting. Yet Amzi grew more and more dissatisfied. He felt, though he knew not its cause, the want of a rich spiritual life, that empty hollowness which pleasures of the world and the mere consciousness of a moral life cannot satisfy. More than once he was tempted to declare himself a follower of the prophet, but he put it off until a riper season. Poor Dumah noted Amzi's frequent visits to the mosque with a vague dread. He had an instinctive dislike of Mohammed, whose assumptions of superiority to Jesus he understood in a hazy way, and resented with all his might. One day he entered with a tablet of soft stone to which a cord was attached. Putting the cord about Amzi's neck, he said: "Amzi, promise your Dumah that you will wear this always, will you not? Because Dumah might die, and could not say the words any more. Promise me!" "I promise you," smiled Amzi, and Dumah left the room contented. Amzi turned the tablet over, and read the familiar words traced upon the soft stone,--the words recognized as the corner-stone of Christianity: "God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." Amzi smiled, and put the tablet in his bosom. CHAPTER XI. MOHAMMED BECOMES INTOLERANT.--WAR. "Our virtues disappear when put in competition with our interests, as rivers lose themselves in the ocean."--_La Rochefoucauld._