"Even so," said Yusuf, gravely.

"Whither?"

"I seek for the city of the great temple."

"Phut! The Caaba!" exclaimed the Jew, with contempt. "Right well I know
it, and a fool's game they make of it, with their running, and bowing,
and kissing a bit of stone in the wall as though 'twere the dearest
friend on earth!"

"But they worship--"

"A statue of our father Abraham, and one of Ishmael, principally. A
precious set of idolaters they all are, to be sure!"

Yusuf's heart sank. Was it only for this that he had come his long and
weary way, had braved the heat of day and the untold dangers of night?
In searching for that pure essence, the spiritual, that he craved, had
he left the idolatrous leaven at home only to come to another form of it
in Mecca?

"But then," he thought, "this foolish Jew knows not whereof he speaks:
one with the empty brain and the loose tongue of this wanderer has not
probed the depths of divine truth."

"You cannot be going to Mecca as a pilgrim?" hazarded the little man.
"The Magians and the Sabæans worship the stars, do they not?"

"Alas, yes!" said the priest. "They have fallen away from the ancient