Masa remains motionless. Death awaits her; she knows this, and is glad. Oh, that her face were not veiled! Mohammed might then read her love in her eyes—in these stars fallen from heaven, as he had called them a few short hours before.
"Masa, give the sign; this is your last opportunity."
She does not move.
"Then I curse you, and you die! You have pronounced judgment on yourself!—Here, ye slaves!"
They flutter to his side like the ravens of the night, greedily seeking their prey.
"Take hold of her and tie her up in the sack."
Mohammed's hands and feet are bound, and he cannot rise, but he can lift his head and gaze at the dread deed that is being done, and he does so. Yes, he sees his white dove disappear in the sack in the black grave that is closed over her.
"Thus are unfaithful slaves punished; and thus the law allows and commands. Tie the mouth of the sack securely. Is it done? Is the boat ready?"
They murmur that all is in readiness.
"Good! Row her out on the water. Yet not too far, in order that this boy may see what takes place."