Epilogue.
There was a man of Mecca, named Abd al Muttalib, who had sinned against his faith, and all the families of the Coreish were his enemies. He had one son only, and by him he was supported in the days of his distress. Touched by such love, he vowed that if Providence should grant him ten sons he would devote one of them to the Deity. Years rolled on, and at last ten sons surrounded him in his tent. Then he remembered his vow, and rose up in the bitterness of his soul, and bade his sons follow him to the Káaba. There they cast lots which should die by the sacrificial knife, and the fatal arrow fell to Abdallah, the youngest and best beloved, the fair of face and lion-hearted. Then Abd al Muttalib rent his clothes, and in vain his nine other sons struggled to repress their grief. But the tenth son spoke, and said, "My father, hath the Lord kept His promise to thee? Then keep thou thy promise to the Lord." But his father cried, out of the sorrow which consumed him, "My son, shall I do this thing, and banish sleep from my eyes for ever?" Thereupon came the daughters of Abd al Muttalib and clung to their father, and said. "Father, art not ten camels the fine for the blood of a man?" And he answered, "Verily, if the Lord will take that ransom, my son's life shall be spared."
So they cast lots again, with ten camels against the son, but a second time the lot fell to Abdallah. Again and again they cast lots, and at every throw the father added ten camels to the stake, until ninety camels stood against Abdallah, but each time the Lord called for the blood of the man. Then Abd al Muitalib wept aloud, for a hundred camels were all his wealth, but his son cried, "Peace, peace, my father, who shall strive against God?" "None" answered his father; "but sheddest thou no tears, my son?" And Abdallah lifted his face and said, "Nay, but I should weep indeed if I won my life and thou didst eat the bread of poverty all thy days." "Forgive me," his father answered, and Abdallah comforted him.
So they led Abdallah to the altar, and bound him, but when they raised the knife Abd al Muttalib cried, "One hundred camels—let it be my son's life against all else the Lord has given me." So they cast lots yet again, and this time, the eleventh time, the lot fell on the camels, and they were slaughtered, and Abdallah was a freedman, and Abd al Muttalib and his sons and daughters shouted and wept for joy.
Now, this Abdallah, the fair of face, the lion-hearted, died young, falling by the wayside from his caravan, and, after all, his father's hopes in him were lost. But his son, the son of him who fell, was Mahomet, the prophet, the leader and the saviour of his country from unrighteous masters and false gods.
Such is the glorious sequel, that on the forehead of the future shine? as a star.
The End.