"When I shall some day wear this beautiful dress, and this gold-
embroidered veil, you will take delight in me. Thank you, child of
my heart, light of my eyes! Thank you for this, splendid present I
will hold it in honor while life lasts."
"I thank you for accepting it, and beg you not to be angry with me
for having been so violent," said Mohammed, entreatingly, as he
kissed his mother's extended hand. "Tell me once more, mother, are
you well; do you feel no pain?"
"I feel well, and am not suffering," said she, regarding him
lovingly. 'I should gladly see you indulge yourself in one of your
walks to the cliffs or mountains. It is long since you have taken
one. I feel better than usual. I shall go to your sick uncle to wait
on him, and when I return I shall lie down. You need not fear that I
am waiting for you. Go to the mountains, beloved of my heart!"
"I shall do so gladly," he cried, embracing and kissing her
heartily. He then walked with hasty steps to the door of the hut,
and out into the free air.
CHAPTER V
THE STORY-TELLER
"I HAVE done work enough to day," murmured Mohammed to himself, as,
after having left his mother, he walked through the dirty suburb to
the stairway hewn in the rock that led down to the cliffs. "Yes, I
have worked enough, and mother is well; I will therefore go to my
paradise, and rest there awhile.
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