Читать книгу The House of Islâm онлайн

22 страница из 64

“A sweet, a charming place!” said Milhem bitterly.

They descended a rough slope to a ravine, which led on to other ravines; so that more than three hours elapsed ere they again beheld the little town, this time close at hand. A motley crowd of men occupied a hillock at the entering in of the place, above the thrashing floors. At sight of the horsemen this crowd broke in a trice and ran helter-skelter down the hill to meet them. There appeared some strife among the runners, each trying by every means to retard a neighbor. Some were knocked down; some rolled together, struggling among the rocks.

“Allah have mercy! Behold, trouble already! A feud, if I mistake not,” said Milhem, as he watched the race. He spoke a word to the chief of the soldiers, who repeated it in a louder tone. The troop pulled up, smartly, on the alert.

Two young men, an Arab and a Circassian, had distanced all competitors. They ran beyond reach of one another, converging upon the spot where the Governor had halted. As they drew near, it seemed the Circassian had a slight advantage, but so slight that they were about to collide, when the Arab caught his rival’s trousers to fling him back. The other turned with a yell, felled his adversary, and knelt upon his belly. A knife flashed on high. It would have fallen had not some one caught the arm that flourished it. There was a moment’s tussle. The Circassian turned to face his new assailant, when all at once his resistance died away. With a curt laugh he dropped his blade.