"Because, though it is politic to be on the winning side, it is not always safe to be a traitor and to countermand Mohammed's orders," replied the prophet's musical voice, as the soldiers gave way to permit his advance. Asru freed himself and dashed forward, wielding his dagger right and left, but it was a rash effort. He was instantly overpowered and bound hand and foot. The priest shared the same fate. The prophet looked down upon the captain. "Asru," he said, "you whom I deemed a most faithful one, you who have proved false, know that death is the meed of a traitor. Yet that you may know Mohammed can show mercy, I give you your life. For the sake of your past services I grant it you, and trust that, having learned obedience and humility, you may once again grace our battle-fields nobly. Guards, chain him, yet see that he is kept in easy confinement and lacks nothing. Send me Uzza." The Oman Arab came forward. He was a dark-browed man, under-sized, and with one shoulder higher than the other. His eyes were long and narrow, with a look of extreme cunning about them, and his mouth was cruel, his lips being pressed together so tightly that they looked like a long white line. "Upon you, Uzza, O faithful, as next in command, I confer the honor of the position left vacant by Asru. Do thou carry out its obligations with honor to thyself and to the prophet of Allah." Uzza prostrated himself to the ground. Mohammed turned to Yusuf. "Whom have we here? What said you in your accusation, Abraham? An accomplice of Asru, was it?" The little peddler, the silent watcher at the door, came forward, hopping along as usual, but with malignant triumph in his face. "This, O prophet," he said, making obeisance, "is not only an accomplice of Asru, but a sworn enemy of the prophet of Allah and of all who believe in him." "Why, methinks I have seen him before," said Mohammed, passing his hand over his brow. "Is not this the gentle friend of Amzi?" "He is the friend of Amzi," returned the Jew, "but even Amzi lies in chains as a spy among the Moslems." "I had forgotten," said the prophet. "Yet what harm hath this gentle Meccan done?" "He is Yusuf, the Magian priest," said the Jew. "And believe, O prophet of Allah, the Magians are your most bitter enemies." Uzza started and leaned forward with intense interest. Yusuf felt his burning gaze fixed on his face. "What proof have you that this is a Magian priest?" asked the prophet, wearily. "See!" exclaimed the Jew. He tore back the priest's garment, and there was the red mark of the torch outlined distinctly against the white skin. "Ha!" cried Uzza, starting forward, the veins of his forehead swelling with excitement. "The very mark! The secret mark of the priests among those who worship fire and the sun! This, O Mohammed, is not only a priest, but a priest who has fed the temple fires, and as such has been pledged to uphold the Guebre religion at whatever cost." Yusuf said nothing.