ect the wind and
the devils and djinns and mankind to Solomon, and as Thou didst subject
the moon and _Al-Burah_ to Mohammed, on whom be Allah's mercy and His
blessing! And subject unto us all the seas in earth and heaven, in Thy
visible and in Thine invisible worlds, the sea of this life and the sea
of futurity. O Thou Who reignest over everything and unto Whom all
things return.' ... You must know that prayer, and say that prayer, _ya
Zan_. What do you do when it is very stormy?"

"Oh, take in as little sail as possible and keep shoving ahead."

"I don't understand," she let the embroidery fall in her lap. "I see
your ship from the quays and I can't understand how you guide such a big
ship. And how you go at night, Zan, that I cannot understand. It is so
dark at night. There is a terrible lot I do not understand. I am very
stupid."

"You are very dear and darling, Fenzile. You understand how to take care
of a house and how to be very beautiful, and be very loving--"

"Do I, Zanim? That is not hard. That is not very much. That is not like
sailing a ship on the sea."

Without, Beirut seethed with life. Thin, gaunt dogs barked and snarled
in the narrow staired streets. Came the cry of the donkey-boys. Came the
cry of the water-sellers. Came the shouts of the young Syrians over the
gammon game. Loped the laden camels. Tramped the French soldiers. Came a
new hum....

Fenzile rose and went through the courtyard, past the little fountain
with the orange-trees, past the staircase to the upper gallery, came to
the barred iron gates, looked a moment, moved modestly back into the
shadows....

"O look, _ya Zan_," her grave voice became excited. "Come quickly. See.
It is Ahmet Ali, with his attendants and a lot of people following him."

"And who is Ahmet Ali?"

"Ahmet Ali! don't you know, Zanim? The great wrestler, Ahmet Ali. The
wrestler from Aleppo...."

Section 2

Through the grilled door, in the opal shade of the walls, Shane saw the
wrestler stroll down the street; a big bulk of a man in white robe and
turban, olive-skinned, heavy on his feet, seeming more like a prosperous
young merchant than a wrestling champion of a vilayet. Yet underneath
the white robes Shane could sense the immense arms and shoulders, the
powerful legs. Very heavily he moved, muscle-bound a good deal, Shane
thought; a man for pushing and crushing and resisting, but not for fast,
nervous work, sinew and brain coordinating like the crack