The Hand of thd Mahdi by Bishop & Brodeur

Author:Bishop & Brodeur [Bishop & Brodeur]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

THE crowd stopped as if petrified. The tumult ceased, the brandished swords were rigid. Then again, from across the street behind them, that wail arose, the wail of the Shiite Moslem, the heretic, for the martyred grandsons of the prophet. The Sicilian Moslems were Sunnites, orthodox, haters of the Shiites more than of Christians or devils.

Suddenly the crowd, swept off its feet by the sacrilege of the wailing words, burst into one prolonged howl of fanatic frenzy. Turning, they swept back down the slope of the bridge while those behind the Scots flung themselves against the two who were keeping them from joining their fellows in the new attack on the Shiites. Ian, scenting the situation, shouted to Dugall and both, vaulting to the coping, let the Moslems who had been in their rear pass on.

The united mob was now cursing and shaking its fists at the balcony and shuttered windows of the only vacant house in the street. Khaled had known it was vacant and had sent Ibrahim thither on purpose. Nothing mattered to the people now save the destruction of the daring Shiite who had wantonly defamed the true succession of the califate. Let the Christian go; he was already forgotten.

Khaled stood alone in the middle of the bridge, Ian and Dugall at the farther end. They advanced to join him.

“Ibrahim has done the first half of his task well,” Khaled smiled. “If he has done the rest as well, you may yet escape. Come!”

They followed him swiftly past the furious mob, ducked down a side street and turned back again toward the muddy waters of the Kemonia. Here, however, the streets were abandoned, for every Moslem of the quarter had rushed to swell the crowd at the bridge. Suddenly came the blare of trumpets and the sound of hoofs on the stone pavement.

“The city police!” exclaimed Khaled. “Be swift!”

They hastened on up the river-bank till they could see the huge, light-starred bulk of the palace on the right; then the captain struck for the river, wading among the reeds and ooze till a low whistle sounded from the papyrus clumps. A point of light gleamed, and they made their way toward it. In a moment they came to a little quay, half-choked with slime and water-plants. By it, where the clearer water came in, tongue-like, they found a boat, and on the quay stood a brown figure. “Ibrahim! Praise be to Allah!” Khaled cried fervently. “Well done, thou child of the desert.”

The man laughed.

“It was a good plan of yours, lord vizier, and worked well. I slipped down the rear wall of that accursed house just in time and fell into the very arms of one who had taken advantage of the confusion to rob the house. But, hearing my shouts, he was too good a Sunnite to finish his work and he laid hold of me and cried out. I had to knife him.”

“Where are the horses?" Khaled asked abruptly. “There is but little time. Achmed al-Mokhtar may be in the palace now.

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