Читать книгу The House of Islâm онлайн

41 страница из 64

Milhem was warmly wrapped. He embraced his brother silently, and then in a husky voice gave the word to advance.

The same wild sounds of respect and woe accompanied them to the hill without the town, to ring in their ears long after.

Shems-ud-dìn rode beside his brother through dark chasms of the hills till the white of dawn appeared above the rock ridge toothed like a saw. Then he reined in his horse.

“In thy grace I depart,” he murmured.

“With my peace thou goest!” said Milhem, and he gulped as if to swallow something which impeded speech. “Allah knows I sin in suffering thee to remain here alone. My heart reproves mere sorely. Kindest of the kind hast thou been to me always. Often have I been ungrateful; very often have I sinned against thee. I ask thy forgiveness humbly now. Allah knows my soul hurts me!... O beloved!... Give me now a blessing ere we part.”

Milhem sprang down off his horse, and would have knelt to Shems-ud-dìn had not the latter, dismounting also, prevented him, saying: