til her poison should have
done its work.

She saw him halt, and fling up his arms, as if apostrophizing Heaven, as
if asking a question of the stars that twinkled in the wide-flung nimbus
of the moon.

Then at last he paced slowly back to her. He was still undecided. There
was truth in what she had said; yet he knew and weighed her hatred of
Sakr-el-Bahr, knew how it must urge her to put the worst construction
upon any act of his, knew her jealousy for Marzak, and so he mistrusted
her arguments and mistrusted himself. Also there was his own love
of Sakr-el-Bahr that would insist upon a place in the balance of his
judgment. His mind was in turmoil.

"Enough," he said almost roughly. "I pray that Allah may send me counsel
in the night." And upon that he stalked past her, up the steps, and so
into the house.

She followed him. All night she lay at his feet to be ready at the first
peep of dawn to buttress a purpose that she feared was still weak, and
whilst he slept fitfully, she slept not at all, but lay wide-eyed and
watchful.

At the first note of the mueddin's voice, he leapt from his couch
obedient to its summons, and scarce had the last note of it died upon
the winds of dawn than he was afoot, beating his hands together to
summon slaves and issuing his orders, from which she gathered that he
was for the harbour there and then.

"May Allah have inspired thee, O my lord!" she cried. And asked him:
"What is thy resolve?"

"I go to seek a sign," he answered her, and upon that departed, leaving
her in a frame of mind that was far from easy.

She summoned Marzak, and bade him accompany his father, breathed swift
instructions of what he should do and how do it.

"Thy fate has been placed in thine own hands," she admonished him. "See
that thou grip it firmly now."

In the courtyard Marzak found his father in the act of mounting a white
mule that had been brought him.

He was attended by his wazeer Tsamanni, Biskaine, and some other of his
captains. Marzak begged leave to go with him. It was carelessly granted,
and they set out, Marzak walking by his father's stirrup, a little in
advance of the others. For a while there was silence between father and
son, then the latter spoke.

"It is my prayer, O my father, that thou art resolved to depose the
faithless Sakr-el-Bahr from the command of this expedition."

Asad considered his son with a sombre eye. "Even now the galeasse
should be setting out if the argosy