pectators. Two tribes, mounted on wild barbs, were charging in
line from opposite sides of the square, some seated, some kneeling, some
standing. Midway across the market-place they were charging, horses at
full gallop, firing their muskets, then reining in at a horse's length,
throwing their barbs on their haunches, wheeling round and galloping
back, amid deafening shouts of "Allah! Allah! Allah!"

"Allah indeed!" cried the Mahdi, striding into their midst without
fear. "That is all the part that God plays in this land of iniquity and
bloodshed. Away, away!"

The people separated, and the Mahdi turned towards the Kasbah. As he
approached it, the lanes leading to the Feddan were being cleared for
the mad antics of the Aissawa. Before they saw him the fanatics came out
in all the force of their acting brotherhood, a score of half-naked
men, and one other entirely naked, attended by their high-priests, the
Mukaddameen, three old patriarchs with long white beards, wearing dark
flowing robes and carrying torches. Then goats and dogs were riven alive
and eaten raw; while women and children; crouching in the gathering
darkness overhead looked down from the roofs and shuddered. And as the
frenzy increased among the madmen, and their victims became fewer, each
fanatic turned upon himself, and tore his own skin and battered his head
against the stones until blood ran like water.

"Fools and blind guides!" cried the Mahdi sweeping them before him like
sheep. "Is this how you turn the streets into a sickening sewer? Oh, the
abomination of desolation! You tear yourselves in the name of God, but
forget His justice and mercy. Away! You will have your reward. Away!
Away!"

At the gate of the Kasbah he demanded to see the Kaid, and, after
various parleyings with the guards and negroes who haunted the winding
ways of the gloomy place, he was introduced to the Basha's presence.
The Basha received him in a room so dark that he could but dimly see his
face. Ben Aboo was stretched on a carpet, in much the position of a dog
with his muzzle on his forepaws.

"Welcome," he said gruffly, and without changing his own unceremonious
posture, he gave the Mahdi a signal to sit.

The Mahdi did not sit. "Ben Aboo," he said in a voice that was half
choked with anger, "I have come again on an errand of mercy, and woe to
you if you send me away unsatisfied."

Ben Aboo lay silent and gloomy for a moment, and then said with a growl,
"What is it now