"They are exactly the same, O Prince," said the Emir, tendering them
back.

The Jew waved his hand.

"Select one of them," he said, "and I will retain the other. Borne by
messengers, they will always identify us each to the other."

The two grew more cordial, and there was much further conversation across
the board, interspersed with attentions to the fruit basket and
pomegranate water. About midnight the Emir took his departure. When he
was gone, the host walked to and fro a long time; once he halted, and
said aloud--"I hear his salute, 'Hail Mahommed, Conqueror of
Constantinople !' It is always well to have a store of strings for one's
bow."

And to himself he laughed heartily.

Next day at dawn the great caravan was afoot, every man, woman, and
child clad in _Ihram_, and whitening the pale green Valley.




CHAPTER VII

AT THE KAABA