came the kavasses, then the Mudir mounted, with Dicky riding beside,
his hand upon the holster where his pistol was. The face of the Mudir
was like a wrinkled skin of lard, his eyes had the look of one drunk with
hashish. Behind them came the woman, and now upon her face there was
only a look of peace. The distracted gaze had gone from her eyes, and
she listened without a tremor to the voices of the wailers behind.

Twenty yards from the lake, Dicky called a halt--Dicky, not the Mudir.
The soldiers came forward and put heavy chains and a ball upon the
woman's ankles. The woman carried the ball in her arms to the very verge
of the lake, by the deep pool called "The Pool of the Slaughtered One."

Dicky turned to the Mudir. "Are you ready?" he said.

"Inshallah!" said the Mudir.

The soldiers made a line, but the crowd overlapped the line. The
fellaheen and Bedouins looked to see the Mudir summon the Ulema to
condemn the woman to shame and darkness everlasting. But suddenly Abbas
Bey turned and took the woman's right hand in his left.

Her eyes opened in an ecstasy. "O lord and master, I go to heaven with
thee!" she said, and threw herself forward.

Without a sound the heavy body of the Mudir lurched forward with her, and
they sank into the water together. A cry of horror and wonder burst from
the crowd.

Dicky turned to them, and raised both hands.