There, where none but Allah and
Nature can hear my words, I will speak to you of your father, and of
the men of the village."
She drew her veil more closely about her and bowed her head. "Lead
the way, Mohammed Ali, and I will follow."
And he, overwhelmed with happiness, knelt down and tenderly kissed
the little foot that peeped out from beneath her white garments.
Then he arose, folded his arms upon his breast, and bowed his head
in reverence before his queen.
"Your slave will lead the way," said he, softly; "be merciful, and
follow him."
He then turned and began the ascent of the path that leads up to the
crest of the rock. Masa followed, praying to herself that her
mother's spirit might accompany and guard her from all danger.
Both were silent; Mohammed hastened on from rock to rock, higher and
higher.
Mohammed was right. Masa fluttered lightly from cliff to cliff like
a white dove.
At times he stood still and looked behind him.
It perhaps occurred to him that he was walking too rapidly, and
should give her time to rest. Or he feared, perhaps, the heavenly
form might suddenly vanish like the vision of a dream.
"See," said he, pointing to the moon now waxing pale in the heavens.
"See, the night is drawing to a close, and day is about to break. I
wish to see the sun rise with you, O Masa!"
"I, too, desire it," was whispered in her heart, but her lips did
not utter the words.
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