For a moment, then, he hesitated. The next sentence was hard to speak. He knew too well what the result would be. It needed now no straining of the eyes to see his destiny. All the vast army down below was looking up at him. Thousands would hear his words. Tens of thousands would see what followed them. "Go on! go on!" the prince ejaculated fiercely. Kanana drew a deep breath and shouted: "In one hour thirty thousand Arabs will draw the sword in the army of Heraclius!" Then gathering all his strength, he hurled the lance directly at the great Mohammedan general, who had not moved since he began to speak. Throughout those two great armies one might have heard a sparrow chirp, as the gleaming, flashing blade fell like a meteor from the cliff. The aim was accurate. The Bedouin boy cringed, and one might have imagined that it was even more accurate than he meant. It pierced the gray charger. The war-horse of Kahled plunged forward and fell dead upon the plain. A fierce howl rose from the ranks of the Ishmaelites. Men and women shrieked and yelled. "Kanana the traitor! A curse upon the traitor Kanana!" rent the very air. Such was the confusion which followed that, had the Greeks been ready to advance, a thousand might have put a hundred thousand Bedouins to flight. But they were not ready. Kanana stood motionless upon the cliff. He heard the yells of "Traitor!" hut he knew that they would come, and did not heed them. Calmly he watched till Kahled gained his feet, dragged the lance from his dying horse, and with it in his hand, hurried toward the soldiers. Only once he turned, and for an instant looked up at the solitary figure upon the cliff. He lifted his empty hand, as though it were a blessing and not a malediction, he bestowed upon the Bedouin boy; then he disappeared. With a deep, shivering sigh, Kanana pressed one hand beneath his sheepskin coat. A sharp contortion passed over him, but he turned about and stood calmly, face to face with Manuel. "You did well," said the prince, "but you did not kill an Arab. It was for that I made my promise." "'And if you kill an Arab,'" gasped Kanana, "'that moment I will set your father free'! Those were the prince's words! That was his promise, bound by all the powers of earth and heaven! He will keep it! He will not dare defy those powers, for I have killed an Arab!" Clutching the sheepskin coat, Kanana tore it open, and, above a brilliant girdle, they saw a dagger buried in his bleeding breast. He tottered, reeled, stepped backward, and fell over the brink of the cliff. "You may as well go free," said Manuel, turning to the sheik. "A monstrous sacrifice has just been made to purchase your liberty." Turning abruptly he entered his tent to consider, with his officers, the next result. "I think they are flying," an officer reported, coming from the cliff. "The horsemen and camels are hurrying into the hills. Only foot soldiers seem remaining in the front."