Combing his beard with his fingers, he said shrewdly, “If he were fit to work, he would not have been expelled from the convent. A student who works in the convent, and who happened to spend last night at my house, informed me that this young man had violated the rules of the head priest by preaching danger-ridden ideas among the monks, and he quoted him as saying, ‘Restore the fields and the vineyards and the silver of the convent to the poor and scatter it in all directions; and help the people who are in need of knowledge; by thus doing, you will please your Father in Heaven.’”

On hearing these words, Sheik Abbas leaped to his feet, and like a tiger making ready to strike the victim, he walked to the door and called to the servants, ordering them to report immediately. Three men entered, and the Sheik commanded, “In the house of Rachel, the widow of Samaan Ramy, there is a young man wearing a monk’s raiment. Tie him and bring him here. If that woman objects to his arrest, drag her out by her braided hair over the snow and bring her with him, for he who helps evil is evil himself.” The men bowed obediently and hurried to Rachel’s home while the priest and the Sheik discussed the type of punishment to be awarded to Khalil and Rachel.

PART SIX

The day was over and the night had come spreading its shadow over those wretched huts, heavily laden with snow. The stars finally appeared in the sky, like hopes in the coming eternity after the suffering of death’s agony. The doors and windows were closed and the lamps were lighted. The fellahin sat by the fireside warming their bodies. Rachel, Miriam and Khalil were seated at a rough wooden table eating their evening meal when there was a knock at the door and three men entered. Rachel and Miriam were frightened, but Khalil remained calm, as if he awaited the coming of those men. One of the Sheik’s servants walked toward Khalil, laid his hand upon his shoulder and asked, “Are you the one who was expelled from the convent?” And Khalil responded, “Yes, I am the one, what do you want?” The man replied, “We are ordered to arrest you and take you with us to Sheik Abbas’ home, and if you object we shall drag you out like a butchered sheep over the snow.”

Rachel turned pale as she exclaimed, “What crime has he committed, and why do you want to tie him and drag him out?” The two women pleaded with tearful voices, saying, “He is one individual in the hands of three and it is cowardly of you to make him suffer.” The men became enraged and shouted, “Is there any woman in this village who opposes the Sheik’s order?” And he drew forth a rope and started to tie Khalil’s hands. Khalil lifted his head proudly, and a sorrowful smile appeared on his lips when he said, “I feel sorry for you men, because you are a strong and blind instrument in the hands of a man who oppresses the weak with the strength of your arms. You are slaves of ignorance. Yesterday I was a man like you, but tomorrow you shall be free in mind as I am now. Between us there is a deep precipice that chokes my calling voice and hides my reality from you, and you cannot hear or see. Here I am, tie my hands and do as you please.” The three men were moved by his talk and it seemed that his voice had awakened in them a new spirit, but the voice of Sheik Abbas still rang in their minds, warning them to complete the mission. They bound his hands and led him out silently with a heavy conscience. Rachel and Miriam followed them to the Sheik’s home, like the daughters of Jerusalem who followed Christ to Mount Calvary.

PART SEVEN

Regardless of its import, news travels swiftly among the fellahin in the small villages, because their absence from the realm of society makes them anxious and busy in discussing the happenings of their limited environs. In winter, when the fields are slumbering under the quilts of snow, and when human life is taking refuge and warming itself by the fireside, the villagers become most inclined to learn of current news in order to occupy themselves.

It was not long after Khalil was arrested, when the story spread like a contagious disease amongst the villagers. They left their huts and hurried like an army from every direction into the home of Sheik Abbas. When Khalil’s feet stepped into the Sheik’s home, the residence was crowded with men, women and children who were endeavouring for a glance at the infidel who was expelled from the convent. They were also anxious to see Rachel and her daughter, who had helped Khalil in spreading the hellish disease of heresy in the pure sky of their village.

The Sheik took the seat of judgment and beside him sat Father Elias, while the throng was gazing at the pinioned youth who stood bravely before them. Rachel and Miriam were standing behind Khalil and trembling with fear. But what could fear do to the heart of a woman who found Truth and followed him? What could the scorn of the crowd do to the soul of a maiden who had been awakened by Love? Sheik Abbas looked at the young man, and with a thundering voice he interrogated him saying, “What is your name, man?” “Khalil is my name,” answered the youth. The Sheik returned, “Who are your father and mother and relatives, and where were you born?” Khalil turned toward the fellahin, who looked upon him with hateful eyes, and said, “The oppressed poor are my clan and my relatives, and this vast country is my birthplace.”

Sheik Abbas, with an air of ridicule, said, “Those people whom you claim as kin demand that you be punished, and the country you assert as your birthplace objects to your being a member of its people.” Khalil replied, “The ignorant nations arrest their good men and turn them into their despots; and a country, ruled by a tyrant, persecutes those who try to free the people from the yoke of slavery. But will a good son leave his mother if she is ill? Will a merciful man deny his brother who is miserable? Those poor men who arrested me and brought me here today are the same ones who surrendered their lives to you yesterday. And this vast earth that disapproves my existence is the one that does not yawn and swallow the greedy despots.”

The Sheik uttered a loud laugh, as if wanting to depress the young man’s spirit and prevent him from influencing the audience. He turned to Khalil and said impressively, “You cattle grazier, do you think that we will show more mercy than did the monks, who expelled you from the convent? Do you think that we feel pity for a dangerous agitator?” Khalil responded, “It is true that I was a cattle grazier, but I am glad that I was not a butcher. I led my herds to the rich pastures and never grazed them on arid land. I led my animals to pure springs and kept them from contaminated marshes.