march on Jerusalem and a mess midway to the tune of stuttering machine guns.
Grim’s voice broke the silence like a prophet’s; for you have to speak in measured cadence if you hope to make an impress on the Moslem mind when the wild man heritage is uppermost and fierce emotion sways him. They could see only the outline of his figure against the deep purple setting of the stars and in those Arab clothes he looked enough dignified to be a true seer. Cohen and I drew away from him to give him the full dramatic force of loneliness.
“Brothers! The bones of Abraham lie under us. It is written that ‘They plotted, but Allah plotted and of plotters Allah is the best.’ When Abraham went forth to war with kings, he waited for the word that should send him forth, and he took no share of the plunder, lest one should say an enemy and not Allah had enriched him. Who are ye but sons of Abraham?
“We have heard and seen strange things this night,” continued Grim. “And it is written, ‘When ye prided yourselves on your numbers it availed you nothing.’ Is it wiser to be headstrong at the bidding of the rash or to wait for the appointed time and see? For all is written. ‘Who shall set forward by an hour the courses of the stars or change the contour of the hills or postpone judgment?’ Allah ykun maak! (God be with you!)”
He had struck the right note. He had them. A murmur of low voices answered him and though the words were hardly audible the purport was plain; it was something about Almightiness and Allah. You can not separate the Moslem from his fatalism and it works either way, making him fierce or meek according to circumstance and the method of appeal. Unless some unexpected incident should occur to change their mood again it was likely they would cut no throats that night.
But the risk entailed by lingering another minute on the scene would have been deadly. Questions and answers might have produced the very spark needed to fire them to fanatical zeal again. The cue was to disappear at once, leaving the dramatic effect at its height and there was only one way to do that.
Black shadow lay behind us and beneath. I could just make out a suggestion of something solid that might be a roof and might not, but there was no time for investigation. Grim seemed to step off the wall into nothing and the darkness swallowed him. I jumped and Cohen lay down on the wall and rolled off, clinging to the edge with both hands.
That wasn’t a roof. Grim had landed feet-foremost on a lower wall that met ours at right angles and it was the shadow cast by that that looked like something solid. I fell for a life-time, wondering what death would be like when the earth should rise at last and meet me, and was disgusted— disappointed—maddened when the end came.
They cover up the water as a rule in Hebron ; but that stone tank was open and the green scum floated on it inches thick. There were long green slimy weeds that clung and got into your mouth and eyes and if the water of the Styx tastes worse than that I’d rather live in this world for a while yet.
But it was not all bitterness. There was Cohen. He had to jump, too; and when I had scrambled out I told him all about it and then waited until his fingers lost their hold on the wall and he came catapulting down for his green bath just as I had done; and he liked it even less. He made remarks in Yiddish that I couldn’t understand and refused to apologize for having splashed me.
Then Grim came, cool and dry, having found some goat’s stairway down to terra firma.
“Both alive?” he asked. “Well—what’s the general impression? What do you think of it all?”
“Me?” said Cohen. “Think? God damn it all! I’ve got to follow them thieves down into Abraham’s cave or bust with curiosity!”
“You’ll bust then, for it can’t be done!” said Grim.
CHAPTER VII.
“Your friends, Jimgrim, don’t forget it!”
We hurried back to the Governorate as straight as you can go through the mazy streets of Hebron and found Jones asleep in his boots on the bench at the end of the hall. De Crespigny was dozing on the window-seat in the sitting-room, and made a show of being angry with Jones for not having gone to bed.
“Fat lot of use you’ll be this time tomorrow!”
“Do you see me bedded down, while you face the music alone?” Jones answered testily.
“Seems to me I’ve heard somewhere of juniors obeying orders!”
“You told me to go and get some sleep. I did.”
Grim recounted what had happened at the Haram, while de Crespigny mixed drinks and a sleepy Arab servant stripped Cohen and me of our slimy wet garments.
“So you can both sleep safely until morning,” Grim assured them. “Tell you what: I shan’t need Cohen until after breakfast. Let him sleep in the hall. He’ll give the alarm if a mouse breaks in. He’s nervous.”
“Noivous? Me? After breakin’ into a mosque an’ doin’ a Hippodrome high-divin’ stunt into a dark tank? You mean noivy!”
“I mean sleep,” said Grim. “There’s a bellyful in store for you tomorrow. Thought I’d try you out this evening. You’ve made good. Tomorrow you win the game for us.”
“If you’re countin’ on me to make a home run I’ll start now!” said Cohen. “Give me one o’ them camels and I’ll make it quicker! Mnyum-m! Never knew a hot cocktail could sink without makin’ you sick. Does the business, too. Saves ice. Start a new fashion if I live through this. Warm drinks! Sure, give me another one!”
“Can you spare me one policeman, Crep?”
“Which?”
“Any one at all who knows Abraham’s Oak and the caves thereabouts,” Grim answered.
“Righto! I’ll dig you out a man.”
“Tell him to bring handcuffs.”
“When d’you want him?”
“Now. I’ve got to move quickly. Our side-show’s scheduled for tomorrow night and we don’t want a rival act playing the same pitch. We’ve got to pull up that fire-gift by the roots. Besides, we need the makings. Some of the notables are likely to call on you at dawn, ‘Crep, and tell you their version of tonight’s events. If I were you I’d take the line that you’ll permit crowds in the streets leading to the Haram tomorrow night to see the Jews return the fire-gift; but make them swear by their beards there shall be no bloodshed if the Jews don’t disappoint them. Take their pledge in writing for it. Then how would it be if you offered to grace the ceremony with your official presence?”
“Good. That’ll do to remind ‘em of what they’ve promised. But Lord help us if you fail, Grim! Are you sure of the Jews?”
“That’s Cohen’s end.”
“Say, see here,” put in Cohen, “I’ve told you more’n once these Jews are Orthodox. They’d no more listen to me than if I was a Piute Indian. They’d sooner listen to an Indian!”
“Go to sleep on the bench and dream of a way of persuading them,”
