Once only during the whole journey, a couple of Khadijah's camels showed signs of exhaustion and lagged behind the convoy. Despite the insults and blows showered on them, Maisarah failed to bring them in line with the others. The two wretched beasts were completely bathed in sweat, a certain sign that they would soon fall, never to rise again. Maisarah, devoted to his mistress's interests, was extremely perplexed. He did not want to forsake his tired camels; but on the other hand, he had not forgotten Abu Talib's pressing recommendations concerning the young man then leading the caravan, so the slave ran to apprise him of what was taking place. Mohammad halted and came back with Maisarah to see the pair of camels who were lying down, uttering painful, pitiful groans each time an effort was made to make them get up. He leant over them and, with his blessed hands, touched their feet hacked by the sharp pebbles of the Hammadah, and the poor beasts that had not even stirred under the lash, suddenly rose to their feet and with enormous strides, grunting joyously, caught up with the leaders of the caravan. Good luck lasted when the caravan reached Busra, in Syria. Mohammad sold out all the goods he brought with unexpected profit, and found, at extraordinarily advantageous rates, what he had come to get, without even having to undergo the horrors of never-ending haggling, according to Oriental custom. He awakened the sympathy and interest of everyone by his winning ways, frankness and honesty; but above all, by that mysterious radiance emanating from Predestinated Beings; which the old masters interpreted by a golden aureola, called magnetism by the scientists of the present day, because they lack the power of explaining its nature. In this region, where enthusiasm for questions of religion ran high; where every hill is topped by a monastery and where every stone calls up the remembrance of a Prophet, this young traveller, before whom Nature itself seemed to bow down, excited in the highest degree the curiosity of all these monks. They were renowned for researches in sacred texts and lived in hopes of the coming of a new Apostle of Allah. All flocked to put questions to Maisarah, known to many among them during previous journeys. They soon divined that he was Mohammad's confidential slave; and a Nestorian monk, named Jordis, predicted great things to the devoted serving-man, making the same kind of recommendations as Bahira had made to Abu Talib. All transactions being terminated, the caravan turned homewards, and immediately the mysterious cloud, that seemed to be awaiting the travellers, took its place over Mohammad's head and never ceased to accompany him until the journey's end. On the outskirts of Makkah, at the spot called Bathen Mou, Maisarah prevailed on Mohammad to go on ahead of the convoy, so as to carry to Khadijah, without the least delay, the good news of their return.