"Once, Master. The wonderful sight still remaineth in mine eyes."
"And, seeing the Iron Mountains again, thou couldst guide us thither?"
"Allah forbid! That is among the black deeds, Master! 'The grave is darkness and good deeds are its lamps; but for the betrayer, there shall be no light!' Wallah, Effendi! Do not make me your guide!"
"I have not said I intended to do so, Rrisa. I merely asked thee if thou couldst!" The Master's voice was silken, fine, penetrant. "Well, Rrisa, tell me if thou couldst!"
"Yea, Master. Ya gharati! (O my calamity!) It is true I could." The words issued from his unwilling throat as if torn out by main force. "But I earnestly beg of you, my sheik, do not make me do this thing!"
"Rrisa, if I command, thou must obey me! 'There is only one thing can ever loose the bonds I have knotted about thee."
"And that is certainty (death), Master?"
"That is certainty! But this, to the oath-breaker and the abuser of the salt, means a place among the mujrim (sinful). It means Jehannum, and an unhappy couch shall it be!"
Rrisa's face grew even more drawn and lined. A trembling had possessed his whole body.
"Master, I obey!" he made submission, then stood waiting with downcast eyes of suffering.