206 I GO A- FISHING. 



" ' Nay, nay, Sheik Achmed ; I will do as you wish.' 



" ' It is well. I am content.' 



" The conversation had wearied him. The eyes which 

 had been fixed with imploring gaze on mine closed for 

 a few moments. The older sheik was silent, and now 

 several of the tribe came to the door, and looking in, 

 asked if he were yet at peace. All their questions were 

 put in the poetic language of the desert. It was remark- 

 able that no man asked in simple words, ' Is he better ?' 

 or ' Is he worse ?' but every one inquired in metaphoric 

 phrases, the most frequent of which was that touching in- 

 quiry, ' Is it peace ?' 



" No shudder or convulsion marked the instant when 

 Achmed Ben Houssein passed into the presence of Ish- 

 mael his ancestor. The sun came up over the eastern 

 hill, and the soft light fell on the front of the ruin in which 

 he lay, and a single beam of light coming through the 

 door-way at the side of the curtain touched his counte- 

 nance. That mild touch awoke him. 



" He had known the sunshine on his countenance bet- 

 ter than we know it in cold western countries. He and 

 the sunshine were old friends, and the morning light on 

 his forehead was like the familiar caress of a mother. 



" He raised his heavy eyelids and met the gaze of the 

 old man who stood over him, looking intently on his face, 

 and a smile, I verily believe the first smile that had cross- 

 ed his countenance in years, took complete possession of 

 it as he murmured, 'La Illah il Allah' (There is no de- 

 ity but God); and then he hesitated, and the smile be- 

 came almost a laugh of delight as he added, ' Isa Ben 

 Mariam rasoul Allah !' (Jesus the son of Mary is the 

 messenger of God !) 



" Sheik Houssein did not indicate, by look or sign, that 



