The Murderer answering said,
“O versed in all enchanted lore,
“Thou better knowest Okba’s soul.
“Eight blows I struck, eight home-driven blows,
“Needed no second stroke
“From this envenomed blade.
“Ye frown at me as if the will had failed,
“As if ye did not know
“My double danger from Hodeirah’s race,
“The deeper hate I feel,
“The stronger motive that inspired my arm!
“Ye frown as if my hasty fault,
“My ill-directed blow
“Had spared the enemy,
“And not the stars that would not give,
“And not your feeble spells
“That could not force, the sign
“Which of the whole was he!
“Did ye not bid me strike them all?
“Said ye not root and branch should be destroyed?
“I heard Hodeirah’s dying groan,
“I heard his Children’s shriek of death,
“And sought to consummate the work,
“But o’er the two remaining lives
“A cloud unpierceable had risen,
“A cloud that mocked my searching eyes.
“I would have probed it with the dagger-point,
“The dagger was repelled,
“A Voice came forth and cried
“Son of Perdition, cease! thou canst not change
“What in the Book of Destiny is written.”
Khawla to the Teraph turned,
“Tell me where the Prophet’s hand
“Hides our destined enemy?”
The dead lips spake again,
“I view the seas, I view the land,
“I search the ocean and the earth!
“Not on Ocean is the Boy,
“Not on Earth his steps are seen.”
“A mightier power than we,” Lobaba cried,
“Protects our destined foe!
“Look! look! one fire burns dim!
“It quivers! it goes out!”
It quivered, it was quenched.
One flame alone was left,
A pale blue flame that trembled on the earth,
A hovering light upon whose shrinking edge
The darkness seemed to press.
Stronger it grew, and spread
Its lucid swell around,
Extending now where all the ten had stood,
With lustre more than all.
At that protentous sight,
The children of Evil trembled
And Terror smote their souls.
Over the den the fire
Its fearful splendour cast,
The broad base rolling up in wavy streams,
Bright as the summer lightning when it spreads
Its glory o’er the midnight heaven.
The Teraphs eyes were dimmed,
That like two twinkling stars
Shone in the darkness late.
The Sorcerers on each other gazed,
And every face all pale with fear,
And ghastly in that light was seen
Like a dead man’s by the sepulchral lamp.
Even Khawla fiercest of the enchanter brood
Not without effort drew
Her fear suspended breath.
Anon a deeper rage
Inflamed her reddening eye.
“Mighty is thy power, Mohammed!”
Loud in blasphemy she cried,
“But Eblis[23] would not stoop to man
“When Man fair statured as the stately palm,
“From his Creator’s hand
“Was undefiled and pure.
“Thou art mighty, O Son of Abdallah!
“But who is he of woman born
“That shall vie with the might of Eblis?
“That shall rival the Prince of the Morning?”
She said, and raised her skinny hand
As in defiance to high Heaven,
And stretched her long lean finger forth
And spake aloud the words of power.
The Spirits heard her call,
And lo! before her stands
Her Demon Minister.
“Spirit!” the Enchantress cried,
“Where lives the Boy coeval with whose life
“Yon magic fire must burn?”
DEMON.
Mistress of the mighty Spell,
Not on Ocean, not on Earth.
Only eyes that view
Allah’s glory throne,
See his hiding-place.
From some believing Spirit, ask and learn.
“Bring the dead Hodeirah here,”
Khawla cried, “and he shall tell.”
The Demon heard her bidding, and was gone.
A moment passed, and at her feet
Hodeirah’s corpse was laid.
His hand still held the sword he grasped in death,
The blood not yet had clotted on his wound.
The Sorceress looked and with a smile
That kindled to more fiendishness
Her hideous features, cried,
“Where Hodeirah is thy soul?
“Is it in the [24]Zemzem well?
“Is it in the Eden groves?
“Waits it for the judgement-blast
“In the trump of Israfil?
“Is it plumed with silver wings
“Underneath the throne of God?
“Even if beneath his throne
“Hodeirah, thou shalt hear,
“Thou shalt obey my voice!”
She said, and muttered charms that Hell in fear
And Heaven in horror heard.
Soon the stiff eye-balls rolled,
The muscles with convulsive motion shook,
The white lips quivered. Khawla saw, her soul
Exulted, and she cried,
“Prophet! behold my power!
“Not even death secures
“Thy slaves from Khawla’s Spell!
“Where Hodeirah is thy child?”
Hodeirah groaned and closed his eyes,
As if in the night and the blindness of death
He would have hid himself.