“The water foamed and sizzed until it overflowed the basin. The Arab was so frightened that he dropped the bowl and fell on his knees. ‘Bring the other vessel,’ commanded the Mahdi. The other was brought, and the same thing occurred. ‘A miracle! A miracle!’ shouted your uncle, and Mohammed declared that it signified a great uprising of the Mahdi’s enemies; but just as the boiling and frothing of the water subsided, so would his enemies. Hadn’t I hard work to preserve a sober face, because——”
“What did you do?”
“I got your uncle’s medicine chest and put three seidlitz powders in each bowl. The white powder was not noticed because the Mahdi insists on the sacred sand from Mecca being at the bottom of the basin.”
“It was a shame, Max. How could you do it?”
“You ought to thank me, for everyone believes it to have been a miracle.”
“Max, Max, I am afraid that you are indeed an infidel.”
“Not at all, Ibrahim, old fellow, only——What was that?”
“A bugle call ‘to arms.’”
The conversation was over; Madcap Max became the soldier once again.
He buckled on his scimiter and joined his men.