"O Masa, in my ecstasy, I forgot that I have come here to die,
because I cannot live unless my honor is vindicated."
"To die?" said the maiden, with a gentle smile. "Why die now, when
we have only just begun to live?"
"I must die that your father may live. I have already told you,
Masa, that I have sworn by my honor, that the men of Praousta shall
pay the double tax, as they are in duty bound to do. I have pledged
my honor, that is, my life. Your father will not pay, and I have
sworn by Allah and the prophets that the heads of the four prisoners
shall fall if the double tax is not paid. You see now that I must
die, that my honor may not suffer. When I am dead you can all settle
the matter as you think best; the governor may then show mercy, and
relieve them of the tax. But I cannot. And yet I cannot allow Masa's
father to die, for Masa would weep for him, and her every tear would
accuse me."
"You shall not die, Mohammed," murmured the maiden. "No, you shall
not die. O Mohammed, listen to my words. I conjure you, do not be
cruel. You say I should weep if you killed my father; but do you not
suppose that Masa's eyes would also shed tears if her father should
rob her of your life?"
"O Masa!" exclaimed Mohammed, in tones of ecstasy, as he extended
his arms toward her.
She stepped back, and gently motioned to him not to touch her.
"Let us demean ourselves as we are commanded, as is becoming before
Allah, the prophets, and the good spirits who hover about us; as is
becoming in the presence of your mother, and of mine, who are
looking down upon us; as a youth and maiden should who have not yet
been united in the mosque.
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