e late at night. Farewell, O beloved, and may
Allah keep thee!"

"Allah is greatest!" ejaculated Mitri, with a shrug and a gruff laugh,
as he watched her flight along the twilight road. "Now let us enter
and dispute together."

But the shock of his encounter with the missionary had left Iskender
with no wits for argument. He took leave earlier than usual; and, as
he walked back to the hotel in the dark, he realised that the last
vestige of his Protestantism had that evening been demolished. His
baptism would follow as a matter of course, in the mind of Mitri; and
he was by no means prepared to receive it, since the priest, for the
triumph of his congregation, was certain to demand a public ceremony,
and Iskender feared the scorn of his Emir, whom he imagined to be
something of a sceptic.

Moreover, it would entail a full confession of his inmost thoughts,
which, with Wady 'l Muluk in mind, he could not face; and at least it
ought to be postponed till after the great Fast, which the Orthodox
observe with cruel rigour.

To stave off the ordeal he saw himself forced to invent a new set of
doubts and objections. On his next visit to the house of Mitri, he
owned himself convinced of the vanity of the Protestant faith, but
hinted at an inclination towards the Catholic. The big priest stared
at him with mouth agape.

"Curse thy father!" he exclaimed. "Wouldst thou turn from bad to
worse, and rush straight to Jehennum. Thou hast studied history, so
knowest that the Latins are our ancient enemies. They slew us with the
Muslims when their armies took by storm the Holy Places, and enslaved
the remnant of us in a cruel slavery. They have statues, rank idols,
in their churches; and is it not the worst idolatry to concentrate the
power which belongs of right to the whole Body of Christ, and adore it
in the person of one living man? Their lips have corrupted the creed:
they have no baptism, so can have no orders. Their Pope of Rome
himself is nothing but an unbaptized layman. Speak of that again, and
I will drive thee from my house with beatings!"

Iskender, greatly alarmed, made haste to explain that he had spoken in
jest. He had caught an angry look from the girl Nesibeh.

"Jest not upon what concerns thy soul's salvation," said the priest,
letting his wrath evaporate. "Thou knowest not what harm those Latins
do us, tempting souls astray. They allow proselytes to retain our
beliefs, our language, and our for