to the inner court to await his coming.In less than half an hour Murad Nassyr pushed aside the curtain across the entrance, but stopped short when he saw the children.

“What does this mean?” he cried. “Have these Negroes come here with you? Why do you wish to see me?”

“It is a long story, Murad Nassyr,” I replied. “If you will allow me I will tell you it.”

The master of the house made up his mind to accept its invasion in so far as listening to my explanation, for, coming over, he seated himself beside me. I related to him as briefly as I could the story of my purloining the little slaves, to whom their master had no more right than I. He heard me with many groans of alarm and horror, and no signs of sympathy for the little victims. When I finished he broke forth into Turkish exclamations, and, becoming articulate, demanded if I did not fear so great a man as Abd el Barak. “You saw how respectfully he was treated,” he said. “He has influence which may be very dangerous to us.

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