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slow to grasp the message of the Prophet, and there had been killings, but those days were past. On the evening of the fourth day, bewildered, he left the convoca- 499 tion. It wounded like the waves of the sea against his boat when he was returning from the war in Sicily, and as he listened it grew. as yet he only dimly perceived, and it was to the cauldron where those forces were being brewed that he now directed his mule.

Death to the del! The multitude echoed, Death to the infidel! and at this unfo tunate moment a Jew of Gretz intments that he was beginning to look like the furtive Jews who scuttled through back alleys in Now Saphet was a ghost town. eople had sprung; and as that earth sifted through his fingers, as he felt its cool impartial