With the garb of a Moslem soldier, Amzi was soon, to all appearance, a
passable Mussulman, with divided beard, and chocolate-brown skin.

He set out, and, having arrived at the door of the sort of barracks in
which Dumah was imprisoned, mingled with the soldiers, quite unnoticed
among the new arrivals who constantly swelled the prophet's army.

With the greatest difficulty, yet without exciting apparent suspicion,
he found out the exact spot in which Dumah was confined. Upon the first
opportunity he slipped noiselessly after the attendant who was carrying
the prisoner's pittance of food. Under his robe he had tools for
excavating a hole beneath the wall, and his plan was to step silently
into the room, secrete himself behind the door, and permit himself to be
locked in, trusting to subsequent efforts for effecting the freedom of
himself and Dumah.

Silently he glided into the darkened room behind the keeper. All within
seemed dark as night after the brighter light without; but Dumah's eyes,
accustomed to the darkness, could see more clearly. He penetrated the
disguise at once.

"Amzi! Amzi!" he cried out delightedly, "you have come! You have come!"

Amzi knew that all was undone.

"Treachery!" called the keeper.

The Moslems came pouring into the room. Amzi was overpowered, and
pinioned on the spot.

"What means this?" cried Asru, the captain of the guard.

"Treachery, if it please you," returned the keeper. "An asp which has
been in our camp with its poison-fangs hid! No Moslem, but an enemy--a
friend of this dotard poet!"

"Search him!" was the order.

The tools were found.

"Aha!" said the captain. "Most conclusive proof, wretch! We will teach
you, knave, that foxes are sometimes trapped in their own wiles. Off
with him! Chain him!"

Amzi was hurried off, and Asru strode away to execute some other act of
so-called justice. He was a man of immense stature, heavy-featured, and
covered with pock-marks, yet his face was full of strength of character,
and bore traces of candor and honesty, though the lines about the mouth
told of unrestrained cruelty and passion.

At home Yusuf waited in an agony of suspense. The day passed into night,
the night into day, the day into night again, yet Amzi did not come.
Yusuf could bear it no longer. Anything was better than this awful
waiting. Only once he almost gave up hope and cried in the words of the
Psalmist, "O Lord, why castest thou off my soul? Why hidest th