But still, although they muttered and quarrelled,
and even raised their fists, they dared not approach this young man,
whose countenance was so determined, so full of energy, whose cheeks
were so pale, and on whose mouth rested so threatening an
expression. He must have appeared to them like the angel of death,
and each one feared that if he approached he would sink down and
die.
Mohammed paid no attention to the threatening group of men. His eye
looked beyond them--there, behind the men, where the veiled white
figure stood, supported by two women.
He looked toward her, and the ringing tones of the young girl's
voice sounded in his heart, and he seemed to hear the words: "If you
have a mother you love, then think of her!"
He thought of her, and a deep sigh escaped his soul. But, still, he
must be a man now. He had sworn to bring the rebels of Praousta back
to obedience. He must keep his word, and he will do it. "If she has
swooned away, she will awake and forget her grief. Women are readily
grieved, but their grief is easily dissipated. She will know how to
console herself; and as for me, I will forget her, I will never give
her another thought."
He said this defiantly to himself, and looked again at the men of
Praousta, who were still standing irresolute and murmuring near the
mosque, not daring to approach the three armed men. "He certainly
would not have come alone, he would not dare to remain standing
there, if his comrades were not concealed somewhere up there in the
mountain.
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