The Days of Mohammed by Anna May Wilson
page 68 of 246 (27%)
page 68 of 246 (27%)
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wondering deeply at the strange course that events were taking, and
surmising vaguely the probable result of the revolution that seemed impending. His thoughts turned to Amzi, who, as yet, closed his ears to the Gospel tidings which were proving such a comfort and joy to the priest. A step sounded behind him. It was Amzi himself, attired in traveling garb, and with his camel-stick already in his hand. "What now, friend Yusuf? Dreaming still?" he said. "Will you not say farewell to your friend?" "What! Are you going on a journey? Pray, where goes Amzi on such short notice?" "Ah," smiled Amzi, "I almost fear to tell my Persian proselyte, lest the vials of his wrath be poured on my defenceless and submissive head. To make a long story short, I go with the disciples of Mohammed to Medina." "As Mohammed's disciple? Amzi, has it come to this!" exclaimed the priest. "Chain your choler, my friend," laughed the other. "I merely go to observe the outcome of this movement in the town of the North. Besides, the heat of Mecca in this season oppresses me, and I long for the cool breezes of Medina. Yusuf, I shall have rare letters to write you, for I feel that there will be a mighty movement in favor of Mohammed there." "You begin to believe in him, Amzi!" said Yusuf in tones of deepest |
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