each
shedding its tiny light, as if to show that union was strength. Round
this chandelier were seven brass filagreed, hemispherical-shaped
lanterns, holding several oil burners. These many tiny burners gave a
soothing, contented, though undefined light, which, together with the
silence, added to the impressiveness of the place. Round this hall
were forty boxes of the same shape and size.

Our friend stood in the centre of the hall and under the influence of
the scene, he was afraid to breathe; he did not know whether to be
happy or sad, for having come so far.

As he stood thus thinking, dreaming, one of the curtains was raised,
and there came forth a very old man, his venerable white beard all but
touching his girdle.

Solemnly and slowly he walked over to the opposite side, and following
in his train came thirty-eight more, the last apparently being the
youngest.

Chill after chill went coursing down the spinal cord of the astonished
would-be brother, whilst these men moved about in the unbroken
silence, as if talking to invisible beings; now embracing, now
clasping hands, now bidding farewell.

The Dervish closed his eyes, opened them, Were these things so? Yes,
it was no dream, no hallucination. Yet why heard he no sound?

Each of the brethren now took his place beside a box, but there was
one vacancy; no one stood at the side of the box to the left of the
youngest brother. Making a profound salaam, which all answered, the
old man silently turned, raised the curtain, and passed into the
darkness, each in his order following. As one in a trance, the Dervish
watched one after another disappear. The last now raised the curtain,
but before vanishing, turned (it was the spokesman), and whispered:
"Brother, faith, follow!" and stepped into the darkness.

These words acted upon the Dervish like a spell; he followed.

Up, up, the winding stairway of a minaret they go. At last they
arrive, and to the horror of the Dervish, what does he see? One, two,
three, disappear over the parapet, and his friend the spokesman,
with: "Brother, faith, follow!" also vanished into the inky darkness.

Again at the eleventh hour did the cheering words of the brother
spokesman act upon the Dervish like magic, he raised his foot to the
parapet, and, in faltering decision, jumped up two or three times. But
man's guardian does not lead him over the rugged paths of life; he
gives the impulse and you must go. So it was with the Dervish.