und hand and foot.

The little Jew entered, and sat down with his head on one side.

[Illustration: "He knows that Yusuf's hands reek with blood," said
Uzza.--See page 58.]

"Now, proud Yusuf," he said, "has come Abraham's day. Once it was
Yusuf's day; then the poor peddler, the little dervish, was scourged and
chained, and well-nigh smothered in that vile Meccan chamber. Now it has
come Abraham's day, and Yusuf and Abraham will be even. How does this
suit your angelic constitution? Angelic as you are, you cannot slip
through chains and bolted doors so easily as the little Jew. Oh, Yusuf,
are you not happy? Uzza hates you; I saw it in his face. Did you ever
know him before?" The Jew's propensity for news was to the fore as
usual.

Yusuf answered nothing.

"Tell me," said the Jew, giving him a shake, "what does Uzza know of
you?"

"He knows," said a thin, grating voice from behind, "that Yusuf's hands
reek with the blood of Uzza's only child, the fair little Imri, murdered
in the cause of religion; and ere I could reach him--yes, priest, with
vengeance in my heart, for had I found you then your blood would have
blotted out the stain of my child's on your altar!--the false priest had
fled, forsaken the reeking altar, left it black in ashes, black as his
own false heart. And then, that vengeance might be satisfied, was Uzza's
blade turned against the aged grandmother who had delivered the little
one up to Persian gods. O priest, your work is past, but not forgotten!"

"Uzza," cried the priest, "I neither ask nor hope for mercy. Yet would
God I could restore you your child! Its smile and its death gurgle have
haunted my dreams through these long years! 'Twas in my heathendom I did
it!"

"That excuse will not give her back to me," said Uzza, stepping out of
the room with the Jew, as the warden came with the keys.

It was not Uzza's purpose to bring about Yusuf's speedy death. As the
cat torments the mouse which has fallen into its power, so he resolved
to keep the priest on the rack for a considerable length of time.

Hearing of the conversation between him and Asru, he knew that exquisite
torture could be inflicted on the priest through Dumah, and determined
to strike at him first through the poor singer. Dumah's execution was,
accordingly, ordered.

Early one morning, Amzi, looking out of a little chink in his window
through which the bare court-yard below was visible, was horrified to
see a scene revolting i