of Yemen, slew the puppet king Shehr and
took command of the surrounding country. Mahomet purposed to send a force
against him, but even while his army was massing for the march he heard
that the Veiled Prophet was assassinated. The sudden success had proved
his ruin. Aswad only needed the touch of power to call out his latent
tyranny, cruelty, and stupidity. He treated the people harshly, and they
could not retaliate effectually; but he forgot, being of unreflecting
mould, the imperative necessity of conciliating the chiefs of his armed
forces. He offended his leaders of armies, and the end came swiftly. The
leaders deserted to Mahomet, and treacherously murdered him when he had
counted their submission was beyond question. The three impostors were
not powerful enough to disturb seriously the steady flow of Mahomet's
organising and administrative activities, but they are indicative of the
thin crust that divided his rule from anarchy, a crust even now cracking
under the weight of the burdens imposed upon it, needing the constant
cement of armed expeditions to keep it from crumbling beyond Mahomet's
own remedying.

April passed quietly enough at Medina, but with May came the news of fresh
disturbances upon the Syrian border. They were not serious, but the pretext
was sufficient. Muta was as yet unavenged, and Mahomet was glad to be able
to send a force again to the troublesome frontier. Osama, son of Zeid,
slain in that disastrous battle, was chosen for leader of this expedition
in spite of his youth, which aroused the quick anger of some of the Muslim
warriors. But Mahomet maintained his choice. He was given the battle banner
by the Prophet himself, and the expedition sallied forth to Jorf, where it
was delayed and finally hastily recalled by news of a grave and most
disturbing nature.

Even as he blessed the Syrian expedition and sent it on its road, Mahomet
was in no fit state of health for public duties. After a little while,
however, his will triumphed over his flesh, and he thrust back the
weakness. But his physical nature had already been strained to breaking
point under the stress of his life. He had perforce to bow to the
dictates of his body. He gave up attempting to throw off the fever, and
retired to Ayesha's house, attributing the seizure to the effects of the
poison at Kheibar, and convinced that his end was at hand.

In the house of his favourite wife he remained during the few remaining
days of his lif