In the melee two young men met hand to hand. Both were tall and slight, and had dark, waving hair. So like were they that a warrior near them called out, "Behold, doth Manasseh fight with Manasseh!" But the youths heard not, recked not. Their blows fell thick and fast, until at last the Moslem gave way, and fell, wounded and bleeding, in the dust by the side of Hamza, who lay stiffening in death. Then arose the shout, "The sword of God and his prophet!" and Abu Dudjana, armed with the prophet's own sword, waved it above his head and dashed into the thick of the battle. Mosaab, the standard-bearer, followed close and planted the standard at the top of a knoll. An arrow struck him in the eye. He fell, and the cry arose that the prophet himself had fallen. Ali seized the standard and floated it aloft on the air; but the Moslems, seized with confusion, would not rally, and withdrew to the hill-top. The Koreish, thinking Mohammed killed, forbore to follow them, and began the revolting work of plundering the dead. Henda and her companions savagely assisted in the gruesome task; and, coming upon Hamza, the fierce woman mutilated his dead body. By him she found the handsome youth, whom she believed to be Manasseh, so torn and covered with blood as to conceal his Moslem adornments. To Manasseh she had taken a strange fancy, and she now ordered the youth to be conveyed in safety to the camp, with the army which was forming in line of march. The band of Jews who had come with the forces of Abu Sofian, mainly for the purpose of delivering those of their afflicted brethren who had refused to join Mohammed, and of whom many were imprisoned in Medina, now joined with a band of the Koreish, who desired the freedom of some of their tribe, and, while the excitement of battle was still fresh, the party entered the city by stealth, then, dashing furiously down the street to the guard-house, overpowered the guards and battered open the doors, setting many of the prisoners free. Among these were Amzi, Asru, and Yusuf. It was Manasseh himself who broke in the door of the apartment in which Yusuf was confined. An exclamation of pleasure burst from him on recognizing the priest, and he threw his arms about his neck. "Yusuf! My dear Yusuf!" he cried. "My boy!" exclaimed the priest, in astonishment. "What means this?" "It means that you are free," said the youth as he knocked off the chains. "Haste! We must on to the camp ere the Moslems return. Anything more than this I will tell you on the way." Once again Yusuf stepped out into the pure air, along with many others who bore part of their chains in the broken links that still clanked upon their wrists and ankles. In passing through the court-yard, the priest noticed some one crouched in a pitiable heap in a corner of the yard. Manasseh hauled him out. It was the peddler, with ashen face and eyes rolling with fear.