Ye speak of pushing out the English from the land. Allah knows
I love not the breed! I spit upon it, I thirst for the heart of every
man, woman, and child, that I might burn them in the sight of all of
you. But I have heard this talk before. When I was a young priest at
Kufaz, there was word of this pushing out of the foreigner, and I
rejoiced, being unwise. Then there was much fighting, and at the end
more English came up the valleys and, before we knew, we were paying
tribute. Since then many of our people have gone down from the
mountains with the same thought, and they have never returned. Only the
English and the troops have crept nearer. Now this stranger talks of
his Tsar and how an army will come through the passes, and foreigner
will fight with foreigner. This talk, too, I have heard. Once there
came a man with a red beard who spoke thus, and he went down to Bardur,
and lo! our men told me that they saw him hanged there for a warning.
Let foreigner war on foreigner if they please, but what have we to do in
the quarrel, my children? Ye owe nothing to either."
The stranger regarded the speaker with calm eyes of amusement.
"Nothing," said he, "except that we have fed you and armed you. By your
own acts you are the servants of my master."
The mullah was rapidly working himself into a frenzy. He swung his long
bony arms across his breast and turned his face skywards.
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