pressed a pillow-under his loins, and another under his head,
thinking to ease the one and raise the other. But the iron hand of
unconsciousness fell upon him again, and through many hours thereafter
Naomi and the Mahdi sat together in silence with the multitudinous
company of invisible things.

During that interval Fatimah came in hot haste, and they had news of
Tetuan. The Spaniards had taken the town, but Abd er-Rahman and most of
his Ministers had escaped. Ben Aboo had tried to follow them, but he
had been killed in the alcove of the patio. Ali had killed him. He had
rushed in upon him through a line of his guards. One of the guards had
killed Ali. The brave black lad had fallen with the name of Israel on
his lips and with a dauntless shout of triumph. The Kasbah was afire; it
had been burning since the banquet of the night before.

Towards sunset peace fell upon Israel ben Oliel, and then they knew that
the end was very near. Naomi was still kneeling at his right hand, and
the Mahdi was standing at his left. Israel looked at the girl with a
world of tenderness, though the hard grip of death was fast stiffening
his noble face. More than once he glanced at the Mahdi also as if he
wished to say something, and yet could not do so, because the power of
life was low; but at last his voice found strength.

"I have left it too late," he said. "I cannot go to England."

Naomi wept more than ever at the sound of these faltering words, and it
was not without effort that the Mahdi answered him.

"Think no more of that," he said, and then he stopped, as if the word
that he had been about to speak had halted on his tongue.