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Updated: June 3, 2025
He stares down at them for a while, and then takes up the package Ibrahim had laid at his feet. He tears it open, and there lies Masa's long, black hair. A cry escapes his lips! It is not the viceroy, not the man, who cries out. It is the death-cry of his first love! He presses the hair to his lips, and two tears trickle slowly down his cheeks.
We would not pay more, even if we could. Here let us stay and await the call of our sheik's daughter." "And let us pray, as she requested," murmured others. On bended knees, and with solemn countenances, the men, but now so noisy and fierce, awaited Masa's return in silence.
You say I should weep if you killed my father; but do you not suppose that Masa's eyes would also shed tears if her father should rob her of your life?" "O Masa!" exclaimed Mohammed, in tones of ecstasy, as he extended his arms toward her. She stepped back, and gently motioned to him not to touch her.
He attempted to take vengeance upon his grandfather, Tokimasa, but his emissaries suffered a signal defeat, and he himself, being now completely discredited, was constrained to follow his mother, Masa's, advice, namely, to take the tonsure and retire to the monastery Shuzen-ji in Izu. There he was followed and murdered by Tokimasa's agents.
He started to walk rapidly toward the spot on the rock, where he had so often sought solitude and consolation. Suddenly he felt a hand laid on his shoulder, he turned and saw the old Sheik of Praousta, the successor of Masa's father, who gave him a kindly greeting. Mohammed always found pleasure with the old man of whom the people said that he had the gift of prophecy, and could read the future.
But the facts came to the lady Masa's ears, and she lost no time in communicating them to Tokimasa, who, with characteristic promptitude, invited Hiki to a conference and had him assassinated.
They have almost forgotten that only ten years have passed since Masa's death; and when they gaze at the pale, earnest face of Mohammed Ali as he passes through the streets of Cavalla in his business occupations, they scarcely remember that he it is who was the cause of her death. Does he remember it himself? All things pass away, grief and joy alike.
"How Masa's actions concern me, you wish to know?" "Be still, Mohammed!" said Osman, whose keen vision had read the youth's soul, in low, entreating tones. "I pray you do not betray your secret." Mohammed shook convulsively, and covered his face with his hands. "It is true," he murmured. "I must and will be silent. She is lost to me. I will think of nothing but revenge, let all else be forgotten.
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