al.

Abd Allah had made no savings, and, being too old for work, he had lived
on the earnings of his son. The son's name was Absalam (Abd es-Salem),
and he had a wife whom he loved very tenderly, and one child, a boy of
six years of age. Absalam followed his father to Fez, and visited him in
prison. The old man had been ordered a hundred lashes, and the flesh was
hanging from his limbs. Absalam was great of heart, and, in pity of his
father's miserable condition he went to the Governor and begged that the
old man might be liberated, and that he might be imprisoned instead.
His petition was heard. Abd Allah was set free, Absalam was cast into
prison, and the penalty was raised from two hundred and fifty dollars to
three hundred.

Israel heard of what had happened, and he hastened to Ben Aboo, in great
agitation, intending to say "Pay back this man's ransom, in God's name,
and his children and his children's children will live to bless you."
But when he got to the Kasbah, Katrina was sitting with her husband, and
at sight of the woman's face Israel's tongue was frozen.

Absalam had been the favourite of his neighbours among all the gunsmiths
of the market-place, and after he had been three months at Fez they
made common cause of his calamities, sold their goods at a sacrifice,
collected the three hundred dollars of his fine, bought him out of
prison, and went in a body through the gate to meet him upon his return
to Tetuan. But his wife had died in the meantime of fear and privation,
and only his aged father and his little son were there to welcome him.

"Friends," he said to his neighbours standing outside the walls, "what
is the use of sowing if you know not who will reap?"

"No use, no use!" answered several voices.

"If God gives you anything, this man Israel takes it away," said
Absalam.

"True, true! Curse him! Curse his relations!" cried the others.

"Then why go back into Tetuan?" said Absalam.

"Tangier is no better," said one. "Fez is worse," said another. "Where
is there to go?" said a third.

"Into the plains," said Absalam--"into the plains and into the
mountains, for they belong to God alone."

That word was like the flint to the tinder.

"They who have least are richest, and they that have nothing are best
off of all," said Absalam, and his neighbours shouted that it was so.

"God will clothe us as He clothes the fields," said Absalam, "and feed
our children as He feeds the birds."

In thre