“Put thy trust in Allah and hasten not. Journey westward and stop and wait. He will save thee and thine.”
He had caught the sound of the girl’s voice as she passed, encouraging the old man, and risked his life to tell her of the help that awaits those who put their trust in a higher power.
She whispered her thanks as she passed on, and in such wise did love come to Yussuf, the blind, and Almana, the Damascene.
Zarah sat in council with all her men; the women and children and servants slept, so that there were no eyes to watch, nor ears to hear Yussuf as he passed silently amongst the rocks to the paddock where the camels were herded at night, hobbled or tied to posts to prevent them from fighting, as is the custom of the brutes when together in great numbers.
He passed his hands over the animals, choosing three, then crossed to a shed in which were piled the “ghakeet” and “shedad” the saddles used for riding or baggage camels, with water skins and sacks of dates, the emergency rations required by an Arab for a sudden journey.
Surely Allah, the one and only God, watched over him and listened to his prayers when, later, he walked unhesitatingly across the narrow path of rock, leading the first of three beasts, which followed, grumbling and snarling, but obediently, from fear, and guided them by the sound of voices to the Damascenes.
Almana ran to meet him when he rode towards them out of the night, and led him to her grandfather, who rose and blessed him.
“Come with us, my son, for surely yon place in the mountains is the dwelling-place of devils. Come with us to Damascus.”
“I will come one day when my task is accomplished, and that will be in the time appointed, O father,” replied Yussuf, raising his head and turning towards the East as the wind of dawn swept his face.