She fell forward, and a shriek of agony burst from her lips. But she still gazed with tender eyes upon the youth who looked down upon her so fiercely.
"Traitoress! You have forgotten your oath!"
"No, Mohammed," whispered she. "Hear me!"
"Away from me! do you still wish to deceive me?" Again he thrust her from him. Masa would have fallen, had not Osman hurried forward and sustained her.
"Forgive him," whispered he, softly. "He is wild with anger and pain."
"O Osman, is all known to you?" asked she, in trembling tones.
Osman bowed his head. Tears stood in his eyes. "Be quiet—we are watched. In the evening I will send you word."
"Open now the gates, and let the prisoners out," said the tschorbadji to Mohammed. "The law has been vindicated."
"It shall be as you command," said Mohammed, with the calmness sometimes born of despair. He drew forth the key, and placed it in the lock. Masa sprang forward. The gate opened, and now she stood beside her father. She threw her arms about him, and kissed his lips. Then she bowed her head upon his breast, and wept bitterly. The old man held her close to his heart, and then, lifting her up, bore her, trembling with emotion, from out the cage, in which he had endured such torture for four-and-twenty hours.
The ulemas followed him. Joyfully the men greeted the released prisoners, and prayed that they might escort them home in triumph.