eat extent, set
aside, and the knife of the assassin was set at work. Among those who
thus fell were Kaab, a Jewish poet who strove to incite the Koreish to
aggressive measures against the Moslems; and Assina, a young woman who
had been guilty of writing satires directed against the prophet himself.

Yusuf and Amzi became greatly alarmed for the safety of Dumah. Every
possible means of rendering assistance to the poor singer seemed to be
cut off. They could not even find any clue to his whereabouts, and
feared that he, too, had fallen beneath some treacherous blade.

As yet, Amzi and Yusuf had been permitted to wander at will. For hours
and hours did they roam about the streets seeking for some clue to
Dumah's place of imprisonment, but all efforts were futile, until one
day Amzi heard a faint voice singing in the cellar of one of the Moslem
buildings. He lay down by the wall, closed his eyes, and strained his
ears to catch the sound. It was assuredly Dumah, singing weakly:

"Oh, why will they not come,
The friends of Dumah!
For living death is upon him,
And the walls of his tomb close over,
Yet will not in mercy fall on him.
Does the sun shine still on the mountain,
And the trees wave?
Do the birds still sing in the palm-trees,
And the flowers still bloom in Kuba?
And yet doth Dumah languish

"But Dumah's friends have forgotten him,
Nor seek him more,
And even the angels vanish,
And the tomb is all about him:
O Death, come, haste to Dumah!"

The voice sank away in a low wail, and Amzi sprang up. His first impulse
was to rush in and batter at the door of Dumah's cell; his second, to
call words of comfort through the wall. Yet either would be imprudent
and might ruin all, so he hastened home to Yusuf.

"I will go to him immediately," said the priest.

"But how?"

"In disguise if need be," was the reply.

"In disguise!" exclaimed Amzi. "Friend, with your physique, think you
you can disguise yourself? Not a Moslem in Mecca who does not know the
figure of Yusuf the Christian. Nay, Yusuf, your friend Amzi can effect a
disguise much more easily. Here,"--running his fingers through his gray
beard,--"a few grains of black dye can soon transform this; some stain
will change the Meccan's ruddy cheeks into the brown of a desert Arab.
The thing is easy."

"As you will, then," said the priest; and the two were soon busy at work
at the transforming process.