Khaled F. Marion Crawford (best romance novels of all time .TXT) 📖

“Return thanks to Allah, and go thy way to the end,” said the Angel, who then unfolded his wings and departed to paradise whence he had come.

But Khaled clasped Zehowah tightly in his arms, and looking upwards repeated the first chapter of the Koran and also the one hundred and tenth chapter, which is entitled “Assistance.” When he had performed these inward devotions he turned his gaze upon Zehowah and kissed her.

“Praise be to Allah,” he said, “for this and all blessings. But now let us defend ourselves if we can, my beloved, for I think my enemies are at hand.”

And so he would have stooped to take up his sword which had fallen upon the floor. But still Zehowah held him and would not let him go.

“Not yet, Khaled!” she cried. “Not yet, soul of my soul! The gates are very strong, and will withstand this battering for some time.”

“Would you have him whom you love sit still in the net until the hunters come to catch him?” he asked in a tender voice.

“You said you would wait here,” she pleaded. “If we must die, let us die here⁠—our life will be a little longer so.”

“Did I say so? I thought you did not love me then, and I would have slain a few only, for my own sake, that my blood might not be unavenged. But now I will slay them all, for your sake, and the bodies of the dead shall be a rampart for you.”

“Oh, do not go!” she cried again. “I know a secret passage from the palace, that leads out by the wall of the city⁠—come quickly, there is yet time, and we shall escape⁠—for Allah will protect us. Surely, when I was fainting in your arms I heard an angel’s voice⁠—and surely the angel is yet with us, and will lighten the way as we go.”

“The Angel was indeed here, for he brought me the soul that was promised, if you loved me. And now all is changed, for if we live, we get the victory and if we die we shall inherit paradise.”

And Zehowah looked into his eyes and saw the living soul flaming within, and she believed him.

“If you had always been as you are now, I should have always loved you,” she said softly, and stooping down she took up his sword and drew it out and put it into his hand. “I tried to wield one when you were not looking,” she said, “but it hurt my wrist. Come, Khaled⁠—let us go together.”

Then he kissed her once more, and she kissed him, and putting one arm about her, he led her swiftly out by the passage towards the great gate. It was now broad dawn and the light was coming in by the narrow windows.

Zehowah clung to Khaled closely, for the noise of the thundering blows was terrible and deafening, and the multitude without were shouting to each other and calling upon Abdullah to come out, for they supposed him to be in the palace. But the guards and soldiers within had all hidden themselves though they were awake, for there was no one to command them nor to lead them, and they dared not open the gate lest they themselves should be slain in the first rush of the crowd.

Then Khaled and Zehowah paused for a moment near the gate.

“It is better that you should go back, my beloved,” said Khaled. “Hear what a multitude of angry men are waiting outside.”

“I will not leave you⁠—neither in life nor in death,” she answered.

“Let it be so, then,” said Khaled, “and I will do my best. For a hundred men could not stop the way before me now, and I think that of five hundred I could slay many.”

So he went up to the gate, and Zehowah stood a little behind him so as to be free of the first sweep of his sword.

“Abdullah!” cried some of the crowd without, while battering at the iron-bound doors. “Abdullah, thou son of Mohammed and father of lies, come out to us, or we will go to thee!”

“Abdullah, thou thief, thou Persian, thou cheat, come out, and may boiling water be thy portion!”

“Stand back from the gate, and I will open it to you!” cried Khaled in a voice that might have been heard across the Red Desert as far as the shores of the great ocean.

“I, Khaled, will open,” he cried again.

Then there was a great silence and the people fell back a little.

Khaled drew the bolts and unfastened the locks, and opened the gates inward and stood forth alone in the morning light, his sword in his hand and his soul burning in his eyes.

“Khaled!” cried the first who saw him, and the cry was taken up.

The shout was great, and full of joy and shook the earth. For the multitude had grown hot in anger against Abdullah, while they battered at the gates, supposing that he had slain Khaled. But he himself could not at first distinguish whether they were angry or glad.

“If any man wishes to take my life,” he cried, “let him come and take it.”

And the sword they all knew in battle, began to make a storm of lightning about his head in the morning sun.

Then the strong man who had wrestled and thrown the other before dawn, stood out alone and spoke in a loud voice.

“We will have no Sultan but Khaled!” he cried. “Give us Abdullah that we may make trappings for our camels from his skin.”

Then Khaled sheathed his sword and came forward from under the gate, and Zehowah stood veiled beside him.

“Where is this Abdullah?” he asked. “Find him if you can, for I would like to speak with him.”

Then there was silence for a space. But by this time Abdullah’s men had fled, for they had already been forced back in the crowding, and so soon as they saw Khaled standing unhurt under the palace gate, they