“Ma sh’ Allah!” said Hassan Agha, with his thunderous laugh. “It is good to travel with a holy one. To-morrow, it is likely, we shall find coined gold instead of stones in our path. Know also, O light of my eyes, that our enemies are delivered into our hands, an easy prey. The Lord knows we must thank thy sanctity for it, under Allah. Some dwellers in the House of Hair camp ahead of us within that crease of the mountain to be seen from here. My own eyes have beheld them. And one, a pilgrim to Neby Mûsa, who stood near, told me all there is to know concerning them. “They are infidels, coming of a southern tribe which of old was perverted from the Faith; and they go now to keep the feast of the Nazarenes, which is nothing but a battle between two rival factions of that sect, decided annually in the church, called the Resurrection, in El Cûds. This fight is all their observance; for the rest, they have no religion more than other wild beasts. It is good to exterminate such men. In sh’ Allah, we shall slay every one of them or ever they behold the city. So shall my sons be avenged!” “Be not so wicked in thy thoughts,” said Shems-ud-dìn sternly. “What are these men to thee? These slew not thy sons!” Hassan shrugged up his shoulders, and began to roll a cigarette. “Am I Allah, to tell one sparrow from his brother?” “Thou wouldst not shed innocent blood!” “Is their blood innocent? Allah knows: let Him decide. I know that men like to these in appearance slew my two sons ten years ago....” Shems-ud-dìn arose quivering. “Now Allah reckon with thee at the Last Day! Fight while we travel together, and I leave thee without a blessing! Allah witness, it is my last word!” “Well,” growled Hassan after a long pause, “let there be truce for a day or two till we arrive in El Cûds. There, if they push against us in those narrow streets, I cannot swear to restrain the hands of my followers. But till then, peace. Thy blessing is dearer than the blood of dogs, beloved!” “Good,” said Shems-ud-dìn; and, wrapped in his white cloak, he lay down to sleep upon the ground before the bower which Mâs had built, where slept the women. So it befell, on the morrow, that a troop of horsemen overtaken upon the mountain road went unmolested. The men had swarthy faces, dark eyes of a smoldering fire, and they spoke pure Arabic with a husky voice. There was a little friendly rivalry, racing of horses and the like, between them and the Circassians; but that was all. “What doest thou?” inquired Shems-ud-dìn of Zeyd ebn Abbâs, who rode with his eyes shut, muttering. “I pray to Allah,” was the reply; and a little later, when they had parted from the tribesmen: “I praise Allah,” he said. “Thou doest well, O my son.”