king Shehr and took command of the surrounding country.  Mahomet purposed to send a force against him, but even while his army was massing for the march he heard that the Veiled Prophet was assassinated.  The sudden success had proved his ruin.  Aswad only needed the touch of power to call out his latent tyranny, cruelty, and stupidity.  He treated the people harshly, and they could not retaliate effectually; but he forgot, being of unreflecting mould, the imperative necessity of conciliating the chiefs of his armed forces.  He offended his leaders of armies, and the end came swiftly.  The leaders deserted to Mahomet, and treacherously murdered him when he had counted their submission was beyond question.  The three impostors were not powerful enough to disturb seriously the steady flow of Mahomet’s organising and administrative activities, but they are indicative of the thin crust that divided his rule from anarchy, a crust even now cracking under the weight of the burdens imposed upon it, needing the constant cement of armed expeditions to keep it from crumbling beyond Mahomet’s own remedying.

April passed quietly enough at Medina, but with May came the news of fresh disturbances upon the Syrian border.  They were not serious, but the pretext was sufficient.  Muta was as yet unavenged, and Mahomet was glad to be able to send a force again to the troublesome frontier.  Osama, son of Zeid, slain in that disastrous battle, was chosen for leader of this expedition in spite of his youth, which aroused the quick anger of some of the Muslim warriors.  But Mahomet maintained his choice.  He was given the battle banner by the Prophet himself, and the expedition sallied forth to Jorf, where it was delayed and finally hastily recalled by news of a grave and most disturbing nature.

Even as he blessed the Syrian expedition and sent it on its road, Mahomet was in no fit state of health for public duties.  After a little while, however, his will triumphed over his flesh, and he thrust back the weakness.  But his physical nature had already been strained to breaking point under the stress of his life.  He had perforce to bow to the dictates of his body.  He gave up attempting to throw off the fever, and retired to Ayesha’s house, attributing the seizure to the effects of the poison at Kheibar, and convinced that his end was at hand.

In the house of his favourite wife he remained during the few remaining days of his life.  He lingered for about a week before his indomitable soul gave way before the assaults of death, and all the time he continued to attend to public affairs and to take his accustomed part in them as long as possible.  About the third day of his illness he heard the people still murmuring over the appointment of Osama upon the Syrian expedition.  Rising from his couch he went out to speak to them, and commanded them to cease from such empty discontent, reminding them that he was their Prophet and master, and that they might safely rely upon him.