“Yet,” ventured Yusuf, “did not Jesus teach something of this?”

“Jesus was great and good,” said Mohammed; “he was needed in his day upon the earth, but men have fallen away again, and Mohammed is the greatest and last, the prophet of Allah!”

The speaker’s eyes were flashing; he was yet under the influence of an overpowering excitement.  The color began to rush to his face, and Yusuf, fearing a return of the swoon, deemed it wise not to prolong the argument, but delivered the manuscript left by the peddler, saying: 

“Read, O Mohammed, and see him who was able to restore the withered hand stretched forth in faith.  Perceive him, and commit not this sacrilege.”

Trusting himself to say no more, Yusuf hastily left the cavern, followed by Amzi, who remarked, thoughtfully: 

“Yet, there is much good, too, in that which Mohammed would advocate.”

“There is,” assented Yusuf.  “Yet, though I know not why, I cannot trust this man.  ’Tis an instinct, if you will.  What, think you, does he mean to win by this procedure,—­power, or esteem, or fame?”

Amzi shook his head quickly in denial.  “Mohammed is one of the most upright of men, one of the last to seek personal favor or distinction by dishonest means, one of the last to be a maker of lies.  Verily, Yusuf, I know not what to think of his revelations.  If he does not in truth see these visions, he at least imagines he does.  He is honest in what he says.”

“’If he does not in truth’!” repeated Yusuf.  “Surely you, Amzi, have no confidence in his visions?”

Amzi smiled.  “And yet Yusuf, no longer ago than last night, was ready to believe the testimony of a pauper Jew in regard to similar assertions,” he said.  “But keep your mind easy, friend; I have not accepted Mohammed’s claims.  I am open to conviction yet, and I am not hasty to believe.  In fact, I must confess, Yusuf, an entire lack of that fervor, of that capacity for religious feeling, which is so marked a trait in my Persian priest.”

“Yet you, too, professed to be a seeker for truth,” said Yusuf, reproachfully.

“My desire for truth is simply to know it for the mere sake of knowing it,” said Amzi.

Yusuf sighed.  He did not realize that he had to deal with a peculiar nature, one of the hardest to impress in spiritual things—­the indifferent, calculating mind, which is more than half satisfied with moral virtue, not realizing the infinitely higher, nobler, happier life that comes from the inspiration of a constant companionship with God.

“Alas, I am but a poor teacher, Amzi,” he said.  “You know, perhaps, more of the doctrines of these Christians than I; yet I am convinced that to me has come a blessing which you lack, and I would fain you had it too.  And I know so little that it seems I cannot help you.  You will, at least, come and talk with Nathan?”

“As you will,” said Amzi, in a half-bantering tone.  “Prove to me that these Hebrews are infallible, and I shall half accept their Jewish philosophy.”