"To-morrow I will return with thee, and complete my vows;" he said to
his guide. "For the present, lead out of the square to my house."

The exit was effected without opposition.

Next day the Emir, under treatment of the Prince, was strong enough to
tell his story. The plague had struck him about noon of the day
following the interview in the tent at El Zaribah. Determined to deliver
the gifts he had in keeping, and discharge his trust to the satisfaction
of his sovereign, he struggled resolutely with the disease. After
securing the Scherif's receipt he bore up long enough to superintend the
pitching his camp. Believing death inevitable, he was carried into his
tent, where he issued his final orders and bade his attendants farewell.
In the morning, though weak, half-delirious, his faith the strongest
surviving impulse, he called for his horse, and being lifted into the
saddle, rode to the city, resolved to assure himself of the blessings of
Allah by dying in the shadow of the sanctuary.

The Prince, listening to the explanation, was more than ever impressed
with the futility of attempting a compromise with people so devoted to
their religion. There was nothing for him but to make haste to
Constantinople, the centre of Christian sentiment and movement. There he
might meet encouragement and ultimate success.

In the ensuing week, having performed the two pilgrimages, and seen the
Emir convalescent, he took the road again, and in good time reached
Jedda, where he found his ship waiting to convey him across the Red Sea
to the African coast. The embarkation was without incident, and he
departed, leaving a reputation odorous for sanctity, with numberless
witnesses to carry it into every quarter of Islam.