Abdullah spoke first.  “Beloved,” he said, “I have broken your night’s rest that you may have eternal rest.”

The girl laughed.  “That is a long way off,” she said.  “The cemetery, with the cypress-trees, is beautiful, but this hut, with thee, is better.  Why did you wake me?”

“Because, since you slept,” said Abdullah, “I have changed my religion.”

“Good,” exclaimed the girl; “then I change mine.  I am tired of a religion that makes me plait my hair for eight hours of the day and sends no man to see it.”

“What religion do you choose?” asked Abdullah.

“Yours,” said the girl, seating herself and dropping her hands, interlaced, and covered with turquoise rings, about her knees; “why should a woman question anything when her husband has passed upon it?”

“Did I not tell thee?” said Abdullah.

“Yes,” said the priest, “but I waited for her own words.”

“You have them now,” said Abdullah, and they went out to the spring.

“I name thee Marie,” said the priest, “since it is the name borne by the Mother of our Lord.”

“Ah,” said the girl, “I was baptized Fathma, after the Mother of the Prophet.  There seems to be not so much difference thus far.”

When the sacrament had been administered and they had returned to the hut, the priest addressed his converts.  “My children,” he said, “in order to do a great right I have done a little wrong.  I have baptized you into a religion that you know nothing of.  How should you?  You, Abdullah—­I beg your pardon, Philip—­that was the name I gave you, was it not?”

Abdullah bowed.

“You, Philip,” resumed the priest, “have changed your religion to win a woman whom you love; and you, Marie, have changed yours because the man you love bade you.  Neither of you knows anything of the faith you have adopted.  I have had no chance to instruct you; but one thing I declare to you, the Christian religion tolerates but one husband and one wife.”

Nicha rose, pale, hesitating.  She stepped slowly into the light.  Her beauty added to the light.

“Beloved,” she said, “knew you this?”

“No,” he said, “but I know it now, and welcome it.”

“Oh, my beloved,” she cried, “to think that you are all my own, that I do not have to share you,” and she flung her arms about him.

“Hush,” said the priest, “or, as Philip says, you will wake the camels.”

“Father,” asked Abdullah, “will you now marry us, since we are Christians?”

“I would,” answered the priest, “but it is necessary to have two witnesses.”

Abdullah’s face fell, but in an instant it brightened again.  He went to the door of the hut and stood, listening.  In a moment he turned and said, “Allah is good, or, rather, God is good.  This new religion works well.  Here are our witnesses.”

And, even as he spoke, there came out of the darkness the halt-cry of the camel-driver.