messages.  They pledge their faith on the Sacred Book.  They issue out again to the conquest of the world, and it is I who have gathered the might of Islam into one hand.  It is I who have swept away the princes, the ministers, the governors, and the agents who divided the power of Islam and squandered its riches.  It is I who have stored up wealth for the great day when the sword of Islam shall again be drawn.”

“Forget not, Sire,” said the jester, “the names of Fehim and Izzet, who stood beside you and also stored up the wealth of Islam against the coming of that great day.  If I could find where it is stored now, Islam would be more secure, and I less hungry.”

“I held the city of the world,” said the voice from the darkness:  “I kept the breath of life moving throughout the Empire when all said it must perish.  For thirty years my one brain outmatched the diplomacy of all the Embassies.  Emperors have been proud the dominions of Islam.  Here and there one snatched a living piece and devoured it as though it were carrion, while the others screamed with gluttonous fury and threatened with wings and claws.”

“Ah, Sire,” said the jester, “you have shown us how these Christians love one another!”

“One war,” the voice went on, “one war I have lost, but the enemy did not receive the fruits of victory.  In one war I was victorious, and the Crescent would again be flying over Athens if the Infidel Powers had not barred the way.  I have not lived without glory.  From east to west the moon of Islam shines brighter now.  The sons of Islam are gathering side by side.  They stand again for the glory of the Prophet and his Khalif.  I see the brown peoples of Asia, I see the black hordes from African deserts and forests.  They pass quick messages.  They pledge their faith on the Sacred Book.  They issue out again to the conquest of the world, and it is I who have gathered the might of Islam into one hand.  It is I who have swept away the princes, the ministers, the governors, and the agents who divided the power of Islam and squandered its riches.  It is I who have stored up wealth for the great day when the sword of Islam shall again be drawn.”

“Forget not, Sire,” said the jester, “the names of Fehim and Izzet, who stood beside you and also stored up the wealth of Islam against the coming of that great day.  If I could find where it is stored now, Islam would be more secure, and I less hungry.”

“I held the city of the world,” said the voice from the darkness:  “I kept the breath of life moving throughout the Empire when all said it must perish.  For thirty years my one brain outmatched the diplomacy of all the Embassies.  Emperors have been proud to visit my palace.  Kings have called me venerable.  I have worshipped God, I have protected my people, and now I must die.”

“Ah, Sire,” said the jester, “even in your blessed reign men have died.  Their life was sweet, but they managed to die, and what is so common can hardly be intolerable.  People have even been murdered before, and if together with the women we should now be murdered in the dark—­”