While he was speaking he continued to look the Mahdi unflinchingly in the eye. The silence that ensued was so great that the buzzing of the bees could be heard. Besides this, something very unusual happened. The Mahdi was embarrassed for a moment and could not think what reply to make. Stretching out his hand, he grasped a bottle-gourd filled with water and honey and began to drink, but evidently only to gain time and to hide his embarrassment.
“The brave boy, a true descendant of the defenders of Christianity, stood with his head erect awaiting his sentence.”
And the brave boy, a true descendant of the defenders of Christianity, stood with his head erect awaiting his sentence. On his sunken cheek, tanned by the desert wind, there was now a tinge of pink, his eyes shone brightly, and a thrill of exaltation passed through his delicate body. “Every one,” he thought, “has accepted his teaching, but I have neither renounced my Faith nor sacrificed my soul.” And the fear of what might happen and would happen remained buried in his breast, and he was filled with joy and pride. Then the Mahdi, putting down the bottle-gourd, asked:
“So you refuse to accept my teaching?”
“I am what my father is—a Christian!”
“Whosoever closes his ears to the heavenly voice,” said the Mahdi slowly, and in a changed tone of voice, “is nothing more than wood, to be cast into the fire.”
Calif Abdullah, who was known for his severity and cruelty, showed his white teeth like a wild animal and said:
“This boy’s answers are rude; therefore, sir, punish him, or permit me to do so.”
“All is over,” thought Stasch to himself.