Then, in the creeping of his terror, Ben Aboo rose up again and reeled backward and his eyes were fixed steadfastly downward at his feet where the eyes of Mohammed had rested.  It was almost as if he saw the awful thing of which Mohammed had spoken, so strong was the power of the vision upon him.

But recovering himself quickly, he cried, “Away!  In the name of God, away!”

“I will go,” said Mohammed; “and beware what you do while I am gone.”

“Do you threaten me?” cried Ben Aboo.  “Will you go to the Sultan?  Will you appeal to Abd er-Rahman?”

“No, Ben Aboo; but to God.”

So saying, Mohammed of Mequinez strode out of the place, for no man hindered him.  Then Ben Aboo sank back on to his seat as one that was speechless, and nothing had the crimson on his body availed him, or the silver on his breast, against that simple man in camel-skin, who owned nothing and asked nothing, and feared neither Kaid nor King.

When Ben Aboo had regained himself, he saw Israel standing at the doorway, and he beckoned to him with the downward motion, which is the Moorish manner.  And rising on his quaking limbs he took him aside and said, “I know this fellow.  Ya Allah!  Allah!  For all his vaunts and visions he has gone to Abd er-Rahman.  God will show!  God will show!  I dare not take him!  Abd er-Rahman uses him to spy and pry on his Bashas!  Camel-skin coat?  Allah! a fine disguise!  Bismillah!  Bismillah!”

Then, looking back at the place where Mohammed in the vision saw his body lie outstretched, he dropped his voice to a whisper, and said, “Listen!  You have my seal?”

Israel without a word, put his hand into the pocket of his waistband, and drew out the seal of Ben Aboo.

“Right!  Now hear me, in the name of the merciful God.  Do not liberate these infidel dogs at Shawan and do not give them so much as bread to eat or water to drink, but let such as own them feed them.  And if ever the thing of which that fellow has spoken should come to pass—­do you hear?—­in the hour wherein it befalls—­Allah preserve me!—­in that hour draw a warrant on the Kaid of Shawan and seal it with my seal—­are you listening?—­a warrant to put every man, woman, and child to the sword.  Ya Allah!  Allah!  We will deal with these spies of Abd er-Rahman!  So shall there be mourning at my burial—­Holy Saints!  Holy Saints!—­mourning, I say, among them that look for joy at my death.”

Thus in a quaking voice, sometimes whispering, and again breaking into loud exclamations, Ben Aboo in his terror poured his broken words into Israel’s ear.

Israel made no answer.  His eyes had become dim—­he scarcely saw the walls of the place wherein they stood.  His ears had become dense—­he scarcely heard the voice of Ben Aboo, though the Kaid’s hot breath was beating upon his cheek.  But through the haze he saw the shadow of one figure tramping furiously to and fro, and through the thick air the voice of another figure came muffled and harsh.  For Katrina, having chased away with smiles the evil looks of Ben Aboo, had turned to Israel and was saying—­