"A bold request, truly," said the other. "Yet have I not forgotten my debt of gratitude to you. I have not forgotten that it was Yusuf who nursed me through the foul disease whose marks I yet bear, when all others fled;" and he passed his hand over his pock-marked face. "Of that speak not," returned Yusuf, with a gesture of impatience. "'Twas but the service which any man with a heart may render to a needy brother. However, if you are grateful, as you say, you can more than repay the debt, you can make me indebted to you, by telling me aught of Amzi, the benevolent Meccan, whose hand would not take the life of a worm were he not forced into it." "He is here in chains," said Asru haughtily, "as every spy who enters a Moslem camp should be." "Amzi is no spy!" declared Yusuf emphatically. "His sole object, then, was to free that half-witted poet?" asked Asru, incredulously. "It was none other. He loves him as his own son, as do I. Amzi would suffer death willingly, Yusuf would suffer death willingly, would it spare that poor, confiding innocent!" The priest's eyes were flashing, and his tones bore witness to his earnestness. He did not notice, nor did Asru, a pair of bright eyes that peered at him from the chink of the doorway; he did not know that a face full of petty, vindictive spite was partially hidden by the darkness without, or that two keen ears were listening to every word he said. "Yusuf," returned the captain in a low tone, "you are the only man who has ever seemed to me good. Your words, at least, are ever truth. You wonder, then, that I follow the prophet? Simply because the excitement of war suits me, and"--he shrugged his shoulders with a laugh--"it is the best policy to be on the winning side. Most of these crazed idiots believe in him, and fear that he will work enchantments upon them if they do not; but the doctrine of the sword and of plunder goes farther with a few, of whom Asru is one. Because I believe in you, Yusuf, I shall try to carry out your request. But it would cost me my life were it found out, so it must be seemingly by chance. Rest assured that, bad as I am, cruel as I am, I shall see that Yusuf's friends have some 'accidental' way of escape." So spoke Asru, nor knew that a pair of feet were hurrying and shuffling towards the prophet, while a soldier kept guard at the door. "May heaven bless you for this!" cried the priest. "So long as Amzi and Yusuf breathe you shall not lack an earthly friend." "Tush!" exclaimed the captain. "'Tis but the wish to make old scores even. You serve me; I serve you. We are even." "Then I shall leave you," said Yusuf, rising with a smile. Asru opened the door. "Hold!" cried a guard. "By order of the prophet, Asru is my prisoner!" "Wherefore?" cried Asru, attempting to seize his dagger.