When Shems-ud-dìn set forth from the town, there was great excitement. Babes were held up by their parents to watch the saint ride by. A cry arose that he should bless the place; and he did so, sitting on his old white horse, adorned with old trappings of scarlet and light blue and gold which had not seen service for twenty years. The little city on its hillside, then, in the early sunlight, looked restful as a flock of sheep at noon. There were tears in the sheykh’s eyes as he turned and rode away. He rode alone, with eyes downcast, his beard upon his breast, never far from the palanquin which contained Alia and her nurse. Shibli, in the pride of youth, galloped ahead with the Circassians, the sunshine glancing from their accouterments as they darted in and out of the shadows flung by great rocks across their path. The poles of the women’s litter were borne by two mules, one in front and one behind. Beside the hinder trudged Mâs, armed with a long goad. He crooned as he walked a sad song without end, some echo of his long-lost childhood in hot Darfur. Now and then a groan came from within the litter, and Fatmeh was heard soothing her charge. Once the curtains parted, and Alia looked forth smiling at her father. “How is thy health?” he asked earnestly. “The better for being free of that dark chamber, that hateful town, always the same smells, the same thoughts. Now, in the sun and sweet air, I am well, O my father!” “In sh’ Allah!” murmured Shems-ud-dìn, and he bowed his head. But as the heat increased, and shadows shrank away, nothing but moans came from within the palanquin. The Circassians, tired of display, came back one by one. Shibli, ranging his steed alongside that of Shems-ud-dìn, prattled incessantly without regard for his listener. The sheykh heard the talk around him as a buzzing of flies. “What gift bearest thou to the Frank physician, O Nesìb?” cried one of the riders to his comrade near at hand. “A fine one, O my eyes! I bear an old-time garment, the best of my inheritance. It belonged to my father’s father, and has been as an heirloom in the family.” “Capital! Allah will give to thee.... For my part, I take a trifle, a mere nothing. The chief’s command was on every man to bring some present in his hand. And I had nothing, being a young one, newly married. But I remembered to have seen clouds of bees upon a certain rock in the wady below our house. So I went, bearing fire with me, and slew those bees and took their honey, a portion of which is here in my saddlebags. My woman wrapped it for me and put it in a jar. In sh’ Allah, the infidel will accept of it.” “In sh’ Allah, but it is no great thing,” returned he of the garment. They proceeded by the easiest and clearest road, which was also by much the longest, so that for the sake of the litter they spent four hours upon a distance which the horsemen alone could have covered in less than two.