The old man happened to be at the Caaba, and came anxiously at the unexpected summons.
"Omair!" he exclaimed. "Allah! What has happened?"
"Send them help!" gasped Omair. "Send them help at once, or not one in our fair caravan may escape! Mohammed is lying in wait for them in the mountain passes."
"May Allah have mercy!" ejaculated the old man; and the crowd about shrieked and groaned.
"Bring me the stair!" called Abu Jahl. "Place it close to the Caaba!"
This done, he ascended to the roof where all might see him. His snowy beard descended to his waist over his flowing garments, and his white locks fell thinly from beneath his kufiyah.
Silence fell upon the assembly below, and from every street men came hurrying in to hear the strange tidings.
"In the name of Allah, hear!" called Abu Jahl in loud tones. "Ye of the tribe of Koreish, hear! Ye who love Abu Sofian, hear! Ye who have friends or goods in the great caravan from Syria, hear! Ye above whom the arch-impostor, Mohammed, aspires, and whom he would fain crush beneath his feet as the vile serpent in the dust, hear! He hath beset our friends in the fastnesses of the mountains. He swoopeth upon them as the eagle upon the defenceless lamb out of the fold! Who, then, among you, will follow Abu Jahl to deliver them?"
An approving murmur rose, long and loud; then a hush fell as the aged man continued, appealing to the courage of his hearers:
"Ye who fear not the foul rebel's sword, ye who would uphold the honor of your wives and little ones, nor send your children out upon the world as the offspring of cowards, beseech your gods for blessing, then mount, and meet me as soon as may be outside the temple gates. In the name of Allah, good-speed!"