his dusky muzzle had rested.

"Ah, do not lie to me," cried the Mahdi. "I know where she is--she is in
prison. And for what? For no fault but love of her father, and no crime
but fidelity to her faith. She has sacrificed the one and abandoned the
other. Is that not enough for you, Ben Aboo? Set her free."

The Basha listened at first with a look of bewilderment, and some
half-dozen armed attendants at the farther end of the room shuffled
about in their consternation. At length Ben Aboo raised his head, and
said with an air of mock inquiry, "Ya Allah! who is this infidel?"

Then, changing his tone suddenly, he cried, "Sir, I know who you are!
You come to me on this sham errand about the girl, but that is not your
purpose, Mohammed of Mequinez! Mohammed the Third! What fool said you
were a spy of the Sultan? Abd er-Rahman is here--my guest and protector.
You are a spy of his enemies, and a revolutionary, come hither to ruin
our religion and our State. The penalty for such as you is death, and by
Allah you shall die!"

Saying this, he so wrought upon his indignation, that in spite of his
superstitious fears, and the awe in which he stood of the Mahdi, he half
deceived himself, and deceived his attendants entirely. But the Mahdi
took a step nearer and looked straight into his face, and said--

"Ben Aboo, ask pardon of God; you are a fool. You talk of putting me to
death. You dare not and you cannot do it."

"Why not?" cried Ben Aboo, with a thrill of voice that was like a
swagger. "What's to hinder me? I could do it at this moment, and no man