h his God. Before all the world, he was praying in
absolute solitude. His mind had created perfect silence.

And so Michael drifted on. Only his subconscious self was leading him
to his destination. He was going to a court of peace, to a strange
friend who had taught him much simple philosophy and beauty, an African
whose acquaintance he had made two years before, when he was in
Gondokoro. Michael had saved the African's life by giving him some
pecuniary assistance and carrying him on his own camel to the nearest
village. He had come across him while he was on his journey which he
performed on foot--from the heart of Africa to the university of
el-Azhar in Cairo.

Since his youth, this old man had saved up money for the journey. It
had been the ambition and the desire of his life to study in the great
university of el-Azhar, the most important Moslem university in the
world. His money had all been stolen from him, when Michael's servant
found him. When he told his master of the condition the poor creature
was in, a state of semi-starvation, Michael had taken him to the
nearest village and there paid for a doctor to attend to him, and had
supplied him with sufficient money to greatly mitigate the fatigue and
suffering of his long pilgrimage to Cairo.

The journey had, of course, not been of such a hopeless character as
might be supposed, for in every Moslem village there is a rest-house
with free food for poor travellers; but even so, Michael knew that the
distances between the desert villages are often enormous, and that they
only supplied the food for the period of rest which the pilgrim needed.

Eight months later, when Michael was in England, he heard through the
_'Ulama_ of the _riwak_ in el-Azhar to which he belonged by
nationality, that the old man had arrived and that he was now living
the life of a mystic and a recluse. In a beautiful imagery of words,
he had begged the _'Ulama_ to send his gratitude and thanks to the
Englishman by whom, God, in His everlasting mercy, had sent him relief.

On Michael's return to Egypt the next year, almost the first thing
which he had done on reaching Cairo was to go to el-Azhar and inquire
at the ancient abode of peace if he could see his old friend. He had
been admitted and exceptional courtesy had been extended to him. He
was an unbeliever and a despised Christian, yet it had been through his
act of charity that one of Allah's children had been nursed back to