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Abul Malek's venom passed them by; they gazed upon him with gentle eyes in which there was no spleen, although in him they recognized a bitter foe. As time wore on his hatred of their religion became centered upon the monks themselves, and he undertook by crafty means to annoy them.
Just abreast of Abul Malek's point of vantage Joseph paused to listen. A songbird was trilling wondrously and the monk's face, raised toward the pomegranate trees, became transfigured. He changed as if by magic; his lips parted in a tender smile, his figure grew tense with listening; not until the last note had died away did he move.
Men rested and took from the earth new strength with which to resume the never-ending struggle between the Crescent and the Cross, wherefore Abul Malek's rage availed him nothing.
This mollified the soldier, and the Malek took a place as well as he could. The Malek then addressed the soldier in a mild manner, and asked him why he had bestowed such appellations upon one who was a Mussulman, as well as himself. The soldier positively refused to allow the Malek's claims to this honorable appellation.
At the age of ninety-three years, the venerable statesman was dismissed by his master, accused by his enemies, and murdered by a fanatic: the last words of Nizam attested his innocence, and the remainder of Malek's life was short and inglorious.
He was bent and broken, he was singed of body and of raiment, he gibbered foolishly; he passed them by and went staggering to his cell. Long ere they reached the castle it was but a seething mountain of flame; and in the morning naught remained of Abul Malek's house but heated ruins.
Finally Elzemah stepped forward, torch in hand, and spat upon the giant black-robed figure. The monk's face whitened, it grew ghastly; but he made no movement. Then in a body the infidels rushed forth to follow the example of Abul Malek's son. They swarmed about the Christian, jeering, cursing, spitting, snatching at his garments, until their master cried: "Enough!
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