outrages and terrors of war, breathing softly its ancient music, that
delicate vibrant humming of the latent activities. In his uncivilised
soul Mahommed Hassan felt this murmur, and even as he sat waiting to know
whether a little army would steal out of the south like phantoms into
this circle the Saadat had drawn round him, he kept humming to himself--
had he not been, was he not now, an Apollo to numberless houris who had
looked down at him from behind mooshrabieh screens, or waited for him in
the palm-grove or the cane-field? The words of his song were not uttered
aloud, but yet he sang them silently--

"Every night long and all night my spirit is moaning and crying
O dear gazelle, that has taken away my peace!
Ah! if my beloved come not, my eyes will be blinded with weeping
Moon of my joy, come to me, hark to the call of my soul!"

Over and over he kept chanting the song. Suddenly, however, he leaned
farther forward and strained his ears. Yes, at last, away to the south-
east, there was life stirring, men moving--moving quickly. He got to his
feet slowly, still listening, stood for a moment motionless, then, with a
cry of satisfaction, dimly saw a moving mass in the white moonlight far
over by the river. Ebn Ezra Bey and his men were coming. He started
below, and met David on the way up. He waited till David had mounted the
roof, then he pointed. "Now, Saadat!" he said.

"They have stolen in?" David peered into the misty whiteness.

They are almost in, Saadat. Nothing can stop them now."

"It is well done. Go and ask Ebn Ezra effendi to come hither," he said.