“Nor is that all. No sooner was I free than I went to the house of the principal and made complaint of the injustice. He said⁠—the malefactor!⁠—thus escaping from the question, that it was a sin for true believers to quarrel for the sake of infidels. I told him there were Muslimîn among the English, as witness my own mother, who is one of them. He had the rudeness to declare thou art a convert. It was all that I could do to keep from plucking at his beard. I shall ask my father to remove me straightway from a school where lying insults and oppression thus prevail.”

“The principal spoke truth. I am a convert,” murmured Barakah, hanging her head through fear of her son’s shame.

“Merciful Allah!” cried Muhammad, greatly shocked.

But in a moment he recovered from the blow. Kissing her hand, he murmured fondly: