“Who are you, friend?” asked Manasseh, curiously.

“Kedar the Bedouin!” returned the youth, proudly.  “Though how I came into a Koreish camp, is more than I can explain.”

“For that you may thank your resemblance to me,” laughed Manasseh.  “You are weak, Kedar, my proud Bedouin, and we will ask you to talk but little; yet, I pray you, tell me, who was your father?”

“Musa, the Bedouin Sheikh,”—­haughtily.

“And your mother was Lois, daughter of Eleazar?”

“Even so,” returned the other, wonderingly.

“My cousin!” exclaimed Manasseh, delightedly seizing his hand.

“And son of my Bedouin friend, Musa!” exclaimed Yusuf.

So the Bedouin youth, the rash, hot-headed Moslem recruit, found himself among friends in a Koreish camp.

Night had now fallen, and under cover of darkness, Mohammed’s army silently returned to Medina.

There were those who censured the prophet for his conduct at this battle; and some even dared to charge him with deception in promising them victory.  But Mohammed told them that defeat was due to their sins:  “Verily, they among you who turned their backs on the day whereon the two armies met at Ohod, Satan caused them to slip for some crime which they had committed.”

To quiet those who lamented for their slain friends, he brought forth the doctrine that the time of every man’s death is fixed by divine decree, and that he must meet it at that time, wherever he be.

In the morning the majority of Abu Sofian’s forces set out for Mecca.  Among them were Yusuf and Amzi, also Asru the captain; and it was with no small sense of comfort that the half-starved prisoners sat again about Amzi’s well-stocked board.

Manasseh was with them.  Kedar, scorning to desert the Moslem army, had refused to leave Medina, and, by the earnest intercession of Yusuf and Amzi, whose word was of some import in Meccan ears, he had been given his freedom.

It was with deep relief that all felt the short respite from the blare of battle; and, though they looked forward to the future with anxious forebodings, and though their joy was clouded by the death of Dumah, they were thankful for present blessings.  Not alone prayer, but praise, was an essential part of their religion, and their voices ascended in song,—­

    I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall continually be
    in thy mouth.

    My soul shall make her boast in the Lord; the humble shall hear
    thereof, and be glad.

    O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together.

    I sought the Lord, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my
    fears.

    They looked unto him, and were lightened; and their faces were not
    ashamed.

    This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him, and saved him out of
    all his troubles.