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It is the entrance to El-Azhar, a venerable place in Islam, whence have issued for nearly a thousand years the generations of priests and doctors charged with the propagation of the word of the Prophet amongst the nations, from the Mohreb to the Arabian Sea, passing through the great deserts.

He was thinking of the words of his old friend in el-Azhar. If he came out of the war alive, he might again hope to discover them. "I can do something else," Millicent spoke pleadingly. "Say you will let me! I am rich my money is no good to me." Michael looked at her for an explanation. His eyes were cold.

It was to his material, not spiritual, will-power and determination that he owed his victory over the physical exhaustion which he had experienced. He scarcely thought of Margaret as he wandered on; in his mood of self-pity he felt abandoned. Every minute he was drawing nearer and nearer to the gates of el-Azhar.

And what is being taught to-day to the ten thousand students of El-Azhar scarcely differs from what was taught to their predecessors in the glorious reign of the Fatimites and which was then transcendent and even new: the Koran and all its commentaries; the subtleties of syntax and of pronunciation; jurisprudence; calligraphy, which still is dear to the heart of Orientals; versification; and, last of all, mathematics, of which the Arabs were the inventors.

"While my memory is clear, while the All-Merciful permits me to speak to the Effendi, I will instruct him, the treasure shall be his." Had the saint's instructions been passed on to Millicent's ears? Were her fast-moving camels bearing her to the crocks of fine gold and the wealth of jewels which the hermit of el-Azhar had visualized? The fate of every man hangs round his neck.