“Upon you, Uzza, O faithful, as next in command, I confer the honor of the position left vacant by Asru.  Do thou carry out its obligations with honor to thyself and to the prophet of Allah.”

Uzza prostrated himself to the ground.

Mohammed turned to Yusuf.  “Whom have we here?  What said you in your accusation, Abraham?  An accomplice of Asru, was it?”

The little peddler, the silent watcher at the door, came forward, hopping along as usual, but with malignant triumph in his face.

“This, O prophet,” he said, making obeisance, “is not only an accomplice of Asru, but a sworn enemy of the prophet of Allah and of all who believe in him.”

“Why, methinks I have seen him before,” said Mohammed, passing his hand over his brow.  “Is not this the gentle friend of Amzi?”

“He is the friend of Amzi,” returned the Jew, “but even Amzi lies in chains as a spy among the Moslems.”

“I had forgotten,” said the prophet.  “Yet what harm hath this gentle Meccan done?”

“He is Yusuf, the Magian priest,” said the Jew.  “And believe, O prophet of Allah, the Magians are your most bitter enemies.”

Uzza started and leaned forward with intense interest.  Yusuf felt his burning gaze fixed on his face.

“What proof have you that this is a Magian priest?” asked the prophet, wearily.

“See!” exclaimed the Jew.

He tore back the priest’s garment, and there was the red mark of the torch outlined distinctly against the white skin.

“Ha!” cried Uzza, starting forward, the veins of his forehead swelling with excitement.  “The very mark!  The secret mark of the priests among those who worship fire and the sun!  This, O Mohammed, is not only a priest, but a priest who has fed the temple fires, and as such has been pledged to uphold the Guebre religion at whatever cost.”

Yusuf said nothing.

“Can you not speak, Yusuf?” asked Mohammed.  “Have you no word to say to all this?”

“It is all true, O Mohammed,” replied Yusuf, quietly.  “It is true that in my youthful days I was a priest at Guebre altars.  Now, I am not Yusuf the Magian priest, but Yusuf the Christian, and a humble follower of our Most High God and his Son Jesus.”

“Dare you thus proclaim yourself a Christian to my very face?” exclaimed Mohammed.  “Magian or Christian, ye are all alike enemies.  Off with him!  Do with him as you will, Uzza,—­yet,” relenting, “I commend him to your mercy.”  He turned abruptly and left the apartment.

Yusuf was immediately taken and thrown into a close, dark room.  He was still bound hand and foot.

The little Jew entered, and sat down with his head on one side.

[Illustration:  “He knows that Yusuf’s hands reek with blood,” said Uzza.—­See page 58.]