f, wearied after a long day's work, was resting upon the carpeted
Mastabah (platform) which forms a part of the vestibule of every
comfortable house in Mecca. There was no light in the apartment save
that afforded by the dim glimmer of a fire-pan, over which bubbled
a fragrant urn of coffee. His thoughts had been wandering back over
the events of his changeful life; events which would culminate, as
far as his immediate history was concerned, in his early banishment
from this city of his adoption. The little Jewish band would go
together--precisely where, they did not know,--Amzi, Manasseh, the
family of Asru, a few other devoted souls, and, it was to be hoped,
Kedar.

Yusuf's thoughts dwelt upon Kedar. To-night he seemed to feel a sweet
assurance that his prayers in the youth's behalf were soon to be
answered; and, in the darkness, he cried out for the lad's salvation,
until the blessed Lord seemed so near that he almost fancied he could
put forth his hand and feel the strong, loving, helping touch of Him who
said, "I am the good shepherd, and know my sheep, and am known of
mine.... And other sheep I have, which are not of this fold; them also I
must bring; and they shall hear my voice; and there shall be one fold,
and one shepherd."

A step sounded on the door-stone, and the very youth of whom Yusuf was
thinking entered.

"Well, my Kedar," said the priest, "have you been enjoying the moon?"

"I have been to the Caaba," returned Kedar, with amused contempt in his
voice, "yet I have neither swung by the kiswah nor drenched myself, like
a rain-draggled hen, at Zem-Zem."

"And you have not kissed the Black Stone?"

"Neither have I kissed the stone. By my faith, if it has become
blackened by the kiss of sinners, those poor simpletons caress it in
vain! On the word of a Bedouin, it can hold no more, since it is as
black as well may be already."

"The worship of our little church, then, suits you better?" The priest's
tone scarcely concealed the anxiety with which he asked the question.

"You seem to worship in truth," returned the youth, solemnly. "You seem
to find a comfort in your service which these poor blindlings seek in
vain. Aye, Yusuf, in living among you I have noted the peaceful tenor of
your lives, the rest and confidence which nothing seems to overthrow.
You rejoice in life, yet you do not fear death! Could such a life be
mine, I would gladly accept it. But I do not seem to be one of you."

The priest