more. No, for she could see, and hear, and speak.
Man of God, will it come to pass?"

"God is good," said the Mahdi. "He needs that no man should teach Him
pity."

"But I love her," cried Israel, "and I vowed to her mother to guard her.
She is joy of my joy and life of my life. Without her the morning has
no freshness and the night no rest. Surely the Lord sees this, and will
have mercy?"

The Mahdi held back his tears, and answered, "The Lord sees all. Go your
way in trust. Farewell!"

"Farewell!"

CHAPTER XI

ISRAEL'S HOME-COMING

ISRAEL'S return home was an experience at all points the reverse of his
going abroad. He had seven dollars in the pocket of his waistband on
setting away from Fez, out of the three hundred and more with which he
had started from Tetuan. His men had gone on before him and told their
story. So the people whom he came upon by the way either ignored him or
jeered at him, and not one that on his coming had run to do him honour
now stepped aside that he might pass.

Two days after leaving Fez he came again to Wazzan. Women were going
home from market by the side of their camels, and charcoal-burners were
riding back to the country on the empty burdas of their mules. It
was nigh upon sunset when Israel entered the town, and so exactly
was everything the same that he could almost have tricked himself and
believed that scarce two minutes had passed since he had left it. There
at the fountains were the water-carriers waiting with their water-skins,
and there in the market-place sat the women and children with their
dishes of soup; there were the men by the booths with their pipes ready
charged with keef, and there was the mooddin in the minaret, looking
out over the plain. Everything was the same save one thing, and that
concerned Israel himself. No Grand Shereef stood waiting to exchange
horses with him, and no black guard led him through the town. Footsore
and dirty, covered with dust, and tired, he walked through the
streets alone. And when presently the voice rang out overhead, and the
breathless town broke instantly into bubbles of sounds--the tinkling
of the bells of the water-carriers, the shouts of the children, and the
calls of the men--only one man seemed to see him and know him. This was
an Arab, wearing scarcely enough rags to cover his nakedness, who was
bathing his hot cheeks in water which a water-carrier was pouring into
his hands, and he lifted his glistening face as