nd sin not in
like manner again."

So saying, with one of his strange freaks of magnanimity, he waved her
off, and soon afterward went to rest.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XXV.

MANASSEH AND KEDAR AT MECCA.

"Home, sweet home."

The flame of a smoky oil-dip dimly lighted a spacious room in the house
of Amzi. At the low table sat Yusuf and his friend with a chart before
them, anxiously following, with eye and finger, the course of Mohammed's
northern exploits.

The thoughts of both were with Manasseh. A knock sounded at the bolted
door. Yusuf opened it, and there, like a cameo in the setting of
darkness, was the youth himself.

"Manasseh, my son!" cried both in astonishment.

He stepped in, now laughing, now brushing tears from his eyes. "There!"
he said, freeing himself from their embraces, "I have one more surprise.
I come like a grandee, bearing my company in a litter. Help me bring him
in."

They stepped out, and Manasseh's second face, that of Kedar, peered from
the curtains of the shugduf. None the less warm was the greeting
extended to the Moslem, whose weak and trembling frame was an instant
call upon their sympathy.

"Now," said Manasseh, piling up a heap of cushions, in his impetuous
way, "get us some supper, will you not? I can eat my own share, and half
of Kedar's. Like the birds, he takes but a peck at a time."

Supper was ordered, and soon attendants entered bearing platters, until
the copper table was burdened with the most tempting dishes of
Mecca--roast of spiced lamb, slices of juicy melon and cucumber,
pyramids of rice, pomegranates, grapes of Tayf, sweetmeats, fragrant
draughts of coffee.

Kedar watched with a languid smile. The peace of this quiet home life
affected him almost to tears. Strange had been his emotions when he
awoke to consciousness in the shugduf, alone with Manasseh, in the
wilderness--feelings first of indignation, then of gratitude, then of
admiration for Manasseh, in whom he now discovered the leader of the
Jewish horse. And on the way this admiration had ripened into love for
the unselfish Jewish youth.

The weariness of the long journey began to tell upon him now, and he was
glad that he was among friends. He could eat but little, and was content
to listen to Manasseh's bright talk, and to watch him as, with flashing
eye and eloquent gesture, he fought over again the Battle of Khaibar, or
when, with hushed tone and tearful eye, he told of the death of