All-wise,
the All-pitying."

The words were out and the thing was done before Asad had realized the
corsair's intent. A gasp of dismay escaped him; then his visage grew
inflamed, his eyes blazed.

But Sakr-el-Bahr, cool and undaunted before that royal anger, took the
scarf that lay about Rosamund's shoulders, and raising it, flung it over
her head, so that her face was covered by it.

"May Allah rot off the hand of him who in contempt of our Lord Mahomet's
holy law may dare to unveil that face, and may Allah bless this union
and cast into the pit of Gehenna any who shall attempt to dissolve a
bond that is tied in His All-seeing eyes."

It was formidable. Too formidable for Asad-ed-Din. Behind him his
janissaries like hounds in leash stood eagerly awaiting his command.
But none came. He stood there breathing heavily, swaying a little, and
turning from red to pale in the battle that was being fought within him
between rage and vexation on the one hand and his profound piety on the
other. And as he yet hesitated perhaps Sakr-el-Bahr assisted his piety
to gain the day.

"Now you will understand why I would not yield her, O mighty Asad," he
said. "Thyself hast thou oft and rightly reproached me with my celibacy,
reminding me that it is not pleasing in the sight of Allah, that it is
unworthy a good Muslim. At last it hath pleased the Prophet to send me
such a maid as I could take to wife."

Asad bowed his head. "What is written is written," he said in the voice
of one who admonished himself. Then he raised his arms aloft. "Allah is
All-knowing," he declared. "His will be done!"

"Ameen," said Sakr-el-Bahr very solemnly and with a great surge of
thankful prayer to his own long-forgotten God.

The Basha stayed yet a moment, as if he would have spoken. Then abruptly
he turned and waved a hand to his janissaries. "Away!" was all he said
to them, and stalked out in their wake.

CHAPTER XIV. THE SIGN

From behind her lattice, still breathless from the haste she had made,
and with her whelp Marzak at her side, Fenzileh had witnessed that first
angry return of the Basha from the house of Sakr-el-Bahr.

She had heard him bawling for Abdul Mohktar, the leader of his
janissaries, and she had seen the hasty mustering of a score of these
soldiers in the courtyard, where the ruddy light of torches mingled with
the white light of the full moon. She had seen them go hurrying away
with Asad himself at their head, and sh