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“I shall not return.”

“Ma sh’ Allah!” muttered Hassan again, and he kept silence a great while, munching his long mustache. At length he said, “I must inform thy brother, my lord the Bey, of this thy decision.”

“Tell him,” said Shems-ud-dìn.

On the morrow he was roused betimes by Hassan’s hand on his shoulder.

“Arise, O my soul, and come with me to my lord the Bey. I have seen him already.”

It was a gray dawn threatening rain. In silence they repaired to the house which Milhem had occupied since the approach of winter. The great man sat upon his bed to receive them.

“O Shems-ud-dìn, what is this?” he cried reproachfully. “Is it true thou wilt abide in this wilderness worse than Jehennûm? Surely thou art mad. There, at Istanbûl, thou art in the road to great honor. By Allah, I look to see thee Sheykh-ul-Islâm. Whereas here—what awaits thee?... And canst thou contemplate a lasting union with the daughter of a base fellâh—thou who couldst make a grand alliance to enhance thy honor and mine? I beseech thee, think not of it! If thou doest this through disgust of what befell here yesterday, know that those men are rebels against the Sultàn. They owe more than the worth of their horses to the government. And how light their punishment! They are but asked to serve three years in the army, like every faithful subject of his Majesty. By Allah, there is no wrong done to them!... Say, was that the reason of thy mad resolve?... The term of my appointment draws nigh, and it makes me sad to think of leaving thee here in this lair of wild beasts.”