CHAPTER X.

BLOOD FOR BLOOD.

On the day that consigned Ali thus treacherously to a dungeon, a small knot of soldiers were sitting at the Sultan's gate, performing a combined attack on a huge pyramid of Cuscusoo, into which they plunged their hands half-way to the elbow, and swallowed the large balls of granulated flour, which they squeezed up like snow in their fingers, and it was not till they had nearly demolished the mutton and fowls buried in this tumulus, that they found time to use their tongues for any other purpose.

"Praise be to God!" said Omar, wiping his mouth and shaking the grains from his beard. "Did you hear the news from Algiers?"

"Here, Ombark, you slave, pour water on my hands."

"We heard," said Mehedin, "that the town had been retaken, and the infidels driven into the sea,--a curse on their fathers!"

"May you ride three days on a thirsty camel! Why do you believe such lies? though I would it were true," said Cassim.

"Listen to me, O Moslemeen," said Omar, with an air of importance, "were not the infidels enticed into the mountains by the Emir Abd el Kader? and when they had passed the defile, did he not cut off their retreat? Great was the slaughter of the infidels; a price had been fixed for every head brought in, but it had to be lowered and lowered or the Sultan's treasury would not have paid for all; eight thousand were slain!"

"To God the glory!" said Cassim; "but you, Mahmoud, what say you to that, you, that think the Nazarene dogs invincible?" Mahmoud was a young man about twenty, of rather unprepossessing appearance, with small restless grey eyes, and a gentle and rather feminine countenance.

"I did not say so," answered Mahmoud calmly; "but I know from letters which are true, received by the Wezeer, that the whole infidel army was but seven thousand, of which more than six thousand returned to Djezair. May they be exterminated!"

"The curse of the Prophet on your house," said Cassim to Omar; "why do you invent such lies, and why are we such fathers of the ears to believe them?"

"Know you to whom you speak?" returned Omar, flushing with rage. "Tenfold curses on your father, and may every dog's son of your tribe be destroyed!"

Cassim was of Arab family, and this was too much for him.

"That from _one_ dog," said he, and he hurled the pitcher, from which he was washing his hands, at Omar's head; but for his large turban, the blow would have been more serious: as it was, he was stunned; but recovering, sprung to his feet, dagger in hand, vowing vengeance; but now the others interfered to stop the quarrel, and Cassim, cooled by the effect of his missile, regretted his hastiness. Mahmoud was particularly zealous in pacifying the sufferer.

"Shall I not drink the coward's blood?" said Omar, struggling with Mahmoud, who was forcing him to sheath his dagger.

"What will you gain by that, or by eating him too? Curse the devil, and be friends; of all things I hate a revengeful temper; he is sorry for it."

"Who can stand such treatment?" said Omar, trying to swallow his rage. Eventually, after several relapses, the quarrel was made up, and the two were kissing each other's heads, in token of forgiveness, when they were joined by Abd el Aziz.

"I have just been told," said he, "that the Cafila to Timbuctoo has been plundered in the Beled-el-Jerede by the Woled Abou Sebah, and some of the people killed. I hope, Mahmoud, that your brother Mohammed did not go with them; it was said that he did."

Mahmoud turned deadly pale.

"Where had you this news?" said he, rising, "for I must know the truth."

"The person who told me was the old Fez merchant in the Kaisaria; he was one of them, and has lost all his goods."

Mahmoud hastily departed.

"Poor youth! if his brother be killed, woe to him; his life will be darkened, for he loved him exceedingly."

The love which existed between these two brothers was known to them all; they had been together from childhood; the quiet, unassuming disposition of the younger accorded well with the somewhat wild and bragging character of his brother, and his retiring habits preventing him mixing much with others of his station, made him cleave with more affectionate dependence to his brother; he had endeavoured to dissuade him from this journey, but his love of enterprise had prevailed. And now, with a fearful dread that they were parted for ever, Mahmoud made his way with rapid steps towards the Kaisaria, through long streets of shops, shaded from the sun by date-boughs supported by poles thrown across the street from wall to wall, hustling his way through crowds of people, water-carriers, sweetmeat-sellers, Delals hawking their goods, camels, mules, and horses, until, overcome with heat and fatigue, he reached the bazaar, where shops, packed with shawls, scarfs, silk handkerchiefs, and European goods, invited the purchaser. Here he was informed that the object of his search had gone to the fondak. The story of the plunder of the caravan was in every one's mouth. Resting a minute to take a draught of water to moisten his parched lips, and which the water-carrier, with his usual "Allaw Kerim!" emitted from the neck of a goat-skin gathered in his hand, into a brass bowl: Mahmoud set off on another long round, and at length found the Fez merchant sitting in one of the empty partitions of the colonnade, round the court-yard of the fondak. His face was woe-begone, and his fingers as usual combed his grey beard, as he ruminated over his losses, when he was addressed by Mahmoud,--

"Salamo Alikoom; Sidi Idries! were you with the Cafila that was plundered in the Desert?"

"Woe unto me!--who else?" said the little man with a groan, and then began, half to himself, enumerating his losses: "Were there not three bales of silk, worth six hundred dollars, five camel-loads of grocery and spice, four hundred and fifty dollars at least, not to count expenses and camel hire. Woe is me, to leave my own shop, to be ruined in my old age, besides this there were two--"

"Then you can inform me--" interposed Mahmoud, impatiently.

"Is it not I that can give you information of the whole affair? Have I not paid dearly for experience? As I was saying,--Two bales of cowries, upwards of 140,000, one hundred and forty dollars."

"But what I want to ask you--" said Mahmoud, beginning to lose all patience.

"Little by little, my friend," said Sidi Idries, "and I will tell you all; little by little the camel gets into the saucepan. To think of the slaves, and the gold-dust, and the ivory, I have lost. Our lives were saved--yes--God is merciful--but what is life without the means of living--the sum total--"

Mahmoud's patience here gave way--

"For God's sake, hear me!" thundered he, striking his clenched hand on the shopboard, and putting a sudden stop to the merchant's volubility. "I wish to know if any of your company were killed by the Arabs? It is not from curiosity, but my brother went with them, and has not returned: I fear some evil has befallen him."

His earnest and excited manner had driven the old man's losses from his head for the present, and he told him that he had reason to believe that one of the soldiers of their party had lost his life; and his description of his appearance left no doubt on Mahmoud's mind that it was his brother. His head swam, and a faintness at his heart made him reach to the doorway for support, and he sank on the shop-sill, the sweat streaming down his face. The old merchant was moved nearly to tears at witnessing his suffering.

"It is the will of God, O my son!" he said; "have patience: was it not written?"

"There is more written, O my father," said he; "there is vengeance!" and he wiped the cold sweat from his brow; "but tell me everything--tell me all!"

The merchant then told him, that after they were plundered and stripped, an Arab, who had gone in pursuit of the soldiers, had returned with a soldier's horse instead of his own, and carrying his clothes and arms; and that when they started on their return they had passed the body of a horse and man, lying on the plain in the moonlight, with a flock of vultures gorged and slumbering at a little distance, until daylight should enable them to renew their feast.

"Now I remember," he said, "the soldier's name was Mohammed."

Mahmoud's worst fears were confirmed.

"Is it known who the Arab was?" he inquired, with a quivering voice.

"Arabs are like dates," said the merchant, "one like another; but this one was not of the flock; he gave us his name himself; he was the famous Ali el Bezz!"

"I have heard it before," said Mahmoud, as he turned slowly away to dream of vengeance; "but now it is written here"--and he struck his brow--"in fire!"

He returned to his home, and though he wept in private the loss of his brother, he subdued his emotion, when he was obliged to repair to the Palace-guard, and appear among his comrades; but he sat abstracted and taciturn, torturing his brain with plans of vengeance. If Ali had been living in the town, he would have slain him by treachery, or hired assassins; any means seemed excusable to compass his revenge; but how reach him in the Desert; and who would aid him against so redoubtable a foe, who was supposed to possess a charmed life? He felt at last reduced to the painful necessity of waiting until his enemy should venture to the town, when he resolved to hunt him down at any risk. He little knew at the time that his revenge was brought to his own door, and he had only to arise and strike.

His comrades, knowing the cause of his melancholy, forbore to intrude on him. They had just finished their supper, and were preparing to set the watch for the night, when Abdslem joined them. He was in high spirits, and exhibited a handsome embroidered silk scarf, which he unwound from his head, for their admiration.

"Look at this," he said; "I received it this morning from the Sultan's own hands; may he be exalted; I told you I should not be long in disgrace."

"It is beautiful," said Mehedin, while it passed round; "but what great thing have you done to merit it?"

"Not a small exploit. Did I not seize an Arab spy with my own hand; and who do you think he turned out to be? Why, no other than that dare-devil Sheik, Ali el Bezz!" and Abdslem twirled the scarf round his head in a handsome turban above his ugly face.

Mahmoud, who had at first paid little attention to the speaker, sprang forward at the electrical sound of that name.

"Who?" he said; "repeat that name," laying his hand on Abdslem's shoulder, while his features worked, his eyes glared, and his whole frame trembled.

Abdslem looked at him, half doubting his sanity.

"I tell you," he repeated, "I have seized the notorious robber Ali el Bezz; and he is now as safely lodged as walls and chains can keep him."

"Thanks be to God!" exclaimed Mahmoud, grinding his teeth, and raising his clenched hands, while a satanic smile overspread his countenance; "he is in my power; my revenge is sure!" and gathering up his cloak, he rushed out of the gate.

As he came into the street the moon threw her pale light on his haggard face, and reminded him that it was now too late to take further steps that night. He returned to his own house, and threw himself on his mattress, but sleep came not to the relief of his fevered frame; and his heated brain pictured to him his murdered brother, pale and bleeding, reproaching him for his delay.

The dogma of the Koran, which in practice is the Moorish law, is "eye for eye," "tooth for tooth," "life for life;" if the offence is proved, the Sultan himself hardly dares to refuse retaliation on the wrongdoer, and if the accuser perseveres in demanding justice, he must deliver up the accused to his vengeance.

Before the day dawned, Mahmoud was sitting at the inner gate of the palace, waiting impatiently till the Sultan should ride forth to the audience-hall (M'Shouar); and when after several long hours he came out, surrounded by his guards and attendants, there was heard a voice clear above the noise of the cavalcade,--

"Justice! O my lord! Justice! Blood for blood!"

The Sultan ordered the speaker to be brought before him, asked him the reason of his complaint, and whom he accused.

"My lord, I accuse Ali el Bezz," said Mahmoud; "he is now in prison, and I demand his life for the life of my brother, whom he has murdered."

"How know you that he hath done this?" said the Sultan, "we must have proof."

"The witnesses are all those who have returned from the plunder of the Cafila."

"We will inquire further into this matter," said the Sultan, "and if we find that your charge is true, we may not deny you justice."

Then giving the necessary orders, he rode on, leaving Mahmoud, to whom every hour of suspense seemed an age, sitting at the gates to await his return. It was mid-day, and he was still at his station; no food had passed his lips, and the call of the crier from the Mosque had rolled over him unheard, but as soon as the Sultan re-entered, the same clear voice rung in his ears,--

"Justice! my lord! Justice! Blood for blood!"

The Sultan made a gesture of impatience. From the inquiries he had caused to be made, he found that the charge was true; but as the Arab had been taken in a political intrigue, he wished to spare his life for the present, with the view of obtaining information from him, and making use of him for his own service.

"Bring him before us;" and Mahmoud advanced. "What sum would pay for this?" said the Sultan. "We would compromise this matter; of more use to you will be the fine of redemption than the death of the Arab: this cannot restore your brother, it was written."

Mahmoud's lip curled, and his eye glistened, "My lord's will is his slave's," he said, "and the will of the Khalifa of the Prophet will not wish to swerve from the Prophet's law. Shall I sell my brother's blood? If," said he, with fierce energy, "for every drop of the Arab's base blood, you offered me your hands full of gold, it should be as dross. No! not for his weight in diamonds would I forego my just revenge, or lose the satisfaction of witnessing the last groan issue from the gasping soul of my brother's murderer!"

From the intense vindictiveness of his spirit, the Sultan saw that it would be useless to combat his resolve; and as he was not very intent on saving Ali; within a few hours Mahmoud received the order to the keeper of the prison, directing him to deliver Ali up to him for execution.

His delight at receiving this order amounted to rapture; he kissed the Sultan's seal affixed to it, and placed it next his heart, as though it had been a token from his beloved; clasping it there he hurried to his house, dreading lest anything should occur to change the Sultan's mind, and intervene between him and his revenge. Arrived at home, he slung on his powder-horn and bullet-pouch, and taking his gun, which his impatience did not permit him to load, he hastened to the public prison.

Hassan on leaving his companion had proceeded to fulfil his promise of warning Azora. Ali was right in supposing him well acquainted with the topography of the palace, from his position; and he was, moreover, intimate with many of the attendants of the household. He first provided himself with a bottle of the strong spirit which the Jews distil from raisins, put on a dark coloured dress, and then set off for the palace. Avoiding the main entrance, he skirted the walls till he came to a small side door, here he rolled a stone in a handkerchief, and gave five muffled knocks; after a short pause, the door opened of itself, the latch being raised by a string from above; he entered in the dark, and ascending a narrow stair in the thickness of the wall, entered a small square chamber lighted by a brass lamp; here on a carpet sat one of the Sultan's chief eunuchs; he had a flabby face, a heavy eye, and was very corpulent; his dress was of fine materials, and he wore an enormous white turban on his head; a bristle grew here and there on his chin.

"How is uncle Mobarik?" said Hassan, after the usual salutes.

"Well, O cheerer of my heart," said Mobarik "how long it is since I have seen the son of my uncle!"

"I had work, O my friend, and could not come."

"Oh, we have heard. Allaw Ackbar. Work, yes, we have heard."

"And then, O my uncle, I like not to come empty-handed, and it is so difficult now to pass the stuff through the gate of the Jews' town; but there," producing the bottle, "is some true water of life; the Sultan does not drink better. None of your fig or date brandy, but distilled from grapes, and flavoured with anise: try it."

"Is it lawful, O light of my eyes?" said Mobarik, while his own eyes twinkled as he poured out half a tumbler full.

"Is it not lawful?" said Hassan.

"The Koran forbids it," said Mobarik.

"The Koran does not forbid it," said Hassan; "am I not a taleb? Hear the Koran! Thus it is written--'Intoxicating drink is created for man, but the harm of it is greater than its benefit; therefore, O Moslem, forbear.'" Mobarik had drained his glass before the quotation was finished. "And," continued Hassan, "the great commentator, Kumalodeen, interprets this, 'To those who can drink in moderation and without harm, it is permitted--to others, not.'"

"Truly, thou art a lawyer, and wisdom cometh out of thy mouth; doth it not warm the stomach and cheer the heart?"

When Mobarik had finished about half the bottle to his own share, Hassan only helping him for form's sake, his ashy-brown face had acquired a sort of glow, and he seemed in the happiest temper for Hassan's purpose. It was no easy task for him to talk slightingly of what caused him such intense pain, but he forced himself to bear it.

"So you have heard," said he, "of Hassan converting the infidel?"

"Oh, yes!" said Mobarik, taking off his turban, and with a comical leer on his face; "the hawk struck the quail, and the eagle bore it off."

"God is great! There is more game a-field," said Hassan; "but how heard you the affair?"

"Is not the infidel in my ward?" said Mobarik.

"Then she is in the garden room," said Hassan; "that is all right."

"What garden room? and what is right?" said Mobarik, whose professional vigilance was awakened.

"Hast thou forgotten, O fat man! the carpenter's lad that was taken in to repair the door-lock?"

Before he could say more, Mobarik had closed his mouth with his hand,--

"Wilt thou be silent, O unfortunate? If thou didst escape, thank God; art thou weary of thy life?"

"Perhaps I am," said Hassan, "but thou wert well paid for that affair;" and he slapped the pocket of his caftan, making the money that it contained ring. "Now, uncle Mobarik, put on your turban, and listen to me. Shall I put you in the way of pocketing a nice little sum of fifty dollars?" The flabby face grinned. "Good! I must see this Jewess." The mouth fell open, the eyes rounded, and with his turban stuck on awry, any one less heavy at heart than Hassan must have been convulsed with laughter. His mouth then closed tight, and his head shook from side to side.

"Am I an Afreet of fifty lives," said he, "that I should tamper with the Sultan's hareem?"

"Mobarik, you are a father of the ears, any one may see a Jewess. Hareem indeed! if it had been a Mooress, there would be danger, besides, it is only a letter; see, you would not lose fifty dollars?"

"Give me the money; I will give her the letter."

"Do you see my horns growing, O wise one? Or have I been eating dates till the honey runs out of my eyes? Do pillared dollars grow on trees, that you have only to raise your hand and pick? Now, take another glass, and listen to what I say. I have been offered one hundred dollars, to give a letter into the infidel's own hand. I refused, unless I knew the contents; it was read to me, for it is in the Hebrew character--see, it is open. In it, they beg her to submit to her fate, as all they have done to obtain her liberty has been without success, and it is better for her to be a Moslem than lose her life. I took the money, and promised, as I knew you would not refuse to help me."

"Then you were mistaken," said Mobarik, sulkily, "I will not risk my head."

Hassan looked at him steadily for a minute, "I swear by Allah, that _you_ shall help me, and that I will not leave until I have seen the Jewess; and now I will show you that it is safer, and more profitable for you to consent, than to refuse; look at me, I am a stronger man than you, would it not be easy to me, O my uncle, to bind you, and go without your leave? I know the way, you would not dare to give an alarm, for my being in here, and your friend there in the bottle, would be sufficient to cost you the skin of your back, and perhaps your head. But what is there to prevent my killing you," he continued, advancing towards him with his hand on his dagger--"we are alone--but for our old friendship?"

Mobarik had shrunk into the corner, in real alarm, his face having again assumed its ashy hue: "Let us be friends," said he, "give me the money: have you not sworn that I shall help you, and an oath must be kept?"

"Yes!" said Hassan, "and then it is a good action to persuade the Jewess to her conversion. I will stay but the time for an answer to the letter: go on before to see that all is safe."

Mobarik having received the money, led the way down-stairs, crossed a court-yard, and unlocking a side door, admitted Hassan, directing him to lock the door on his return, for which purpose he left the key in the lock. Hassan found himself amongst the fruit trees, with which the interior court was thickly planted; and under their shadow, he made his way towards a light which shone out through a glass door, at a little distance and which was half-open.

Azora was reclining on the cushions, one hand supporting her head, while the other rested on a small Hebrew Bible, which lay open before her. A large brass lamp, on an embossed pillar, stood on the carpet, and threw its light on her sweet, calm face. She was so deeply absorbed that she did not notice the entrance of Hassan, whose tread was dulled by the soft carpet, and he stood gazing, with clasped hands, on that face so pale and yet so peaceful; and though his affection for her was revived, it was in a hallowed form, and his heart smote him for the part he had taken in bringing one so good and so beautiful into her present peril. A deep-drawn sigh aroused her from her meditations, and made her aware of his presence. In her present position, her mind was not in a state to be startled by such a circumstance; her first feeling was surprise, and the next the fear of the consequences to himself. She felt resigned to her fate, and no feelings of ill-will could harbour in her bosom.

"Hassan," she said, rising, "am I not free from your presence even here?"

"No!" said he, "that time is past, but repentance has come too late to undo what has been done."

"God be praised!" interrupted Azora, "but know you your peril if found here? Fly! lest you also fall a victim."

"She is of the angels," muttered Hassan. "I am in her power, a word would avenge her, yet she only thinks of my danger; I, the cause of her death. Yes, I, her murderer. Oh, my brain! Allah, have mercy! That I take this risk," he continued, addressing her, "is a proof that I now speak truth. I am sent to warn you that you have friends, who are working for and watching over your safety; you also must watch every opportunity, and profit by it. The Sheik of the Sebaïe, who gave a pledge of protection to your father, has vowed to save you. I know not what threats or torture may be intended by the tyrant; but be sure that in the hour of danger friends will be near, and may God deliver you. Here is a token you must remember." And he gave her a slip of paper, with a few Hebrew words upon it.

"It is well," said Azora; "if God has raised me up friends, may He prosper their endeavours; if they fail, God's will be done! But haste--save yourself!"

Hassan was turning to depart, but stopped and said, with a trembling voice,--

"Oh, Azora! though torment wait me, I _cannot_ go till you have granted one request."

"I, what is there in _my_ power to grant? I, a captive!"

"Oh, much, much!" and he fell on his knees, and raised his hands in supplication. "Forgiveness!--I ask--forgiveness for the wrong I have done you, and--O God!--what may yet be--may He avert it. Can you, oh, can you forgive me?"

"Can I forgive you?" she repeated, raising her eyes to heaven with a smile, "as I hope for pardon from Him before whose throne I must ere long appear--from my soul I forgive you! But fly! I hear sounds approaching!"

A scalding tear fell on her hand, as Hassan pressed it to his lips, and then, disappearing through the doorway, he retraced his steps, locked the gate of the garden, and rejoined Mobarik, who was anxiously waiting to let him out.

"I have the answer," he said; "may your sleep be blessed. When shall we have another bottle of keef?"

"When I carry pebbles and eggs in the same bag, O son of my uncle," replied Mobarik, as he closed the door after him.

Soon after he had left, the female attendants summoned Azora to retire for the night; before which, she had looked at the paper left with her by Hassan, it contained only these words, "The black horse."

It was the next day that Hassan heard with the greatest dismay of the seizure of Ali el Bezz, which threatened to frustrate all attempts for the Jewess's safety. In the Moorish prisons the principal reliance is placed on the heavy chains with which they are shackled for the safe keeping of prisoners, the rooms being inefficient, and the guards careless; the shackles are riveted on the arms and legs by a smith, and the chains terminate in a massive ring in the wall. Hassan, as one of the Sultan's guards, knew that he would have no difficulty in communicating with the prisoner without suspicion; and the first thing he did before repairing thither was to purchase a large triangular file, which he concealed in his waist-belt. As soon as Ali had been secured as described above, he sat down on a stone, the only furniture of the cell, overcome with shame and vexation at allowing himself to be so entrapped. When this passed, his mind turned to other and more tormenting thoughts. The vision of his black tent on the Desert rose painfully to his imagination; he saw his wife looking out for his return, and all the trifling, but to him important details associated with his home, gave poignancy to his suffering; he sprang to his feet, only to be reminded by the irons on his limbs that he was no longer free!

He sat down and endeavoured to compose himself to think over his chances of escape; he examined his chains and their connexion with the wall, and was forced to the conclusion that unaided there was no hope! It was early in the morning when he heard a voice, which he recognised, outside the iron-barred window of his cell, and his heart bounded with hope.

"These poor devils of prisoners would be starved but for the charity of the Moslem. I will begin this morning with a good action, and spend half a peçeta on them. O thou son of evil fortune!" said Hassan, coming to the grating, "take the alms of the Moslem, for the love of God." (And in a lower voice, "Cut the links next to your arms and legs.") "I am poor, O my brother, or I would give thee more. (You can overpower and gag the keeper of the prison.) Pray to the Saint Sidi Abd el Kader for me. (Your horse will be in waiting where we parted yesterday.) God give you a safe deliverance!"

He then sauntered away, while Ali, overjoyed, set to work to free himself from his chains, which, allowing for the interruptions he would be subject to by the coming in and out of the keeper, he expected to accomplish by noon. The links were made of soft iron, about ten inches long each, the rod of which they were forged being three inches in circumference; he found, after cutting through one, that by an exertion of strength, using his hands and feet, he could force it open and release the shackle; he had disengaged himself from three of his chains, and had cut through the remaining one on his left leg, which only required to be forced open; his heart already beat high, with the anticipation of liberty, when he was again disturbed by the approach of the keeper. Concealing the ends of his chains in his hayk, he huddled down by the wall, looking sulky, until he should leave as usual. This time, however, the keeper brought with him a stranger.

"Be it known unto thee, O enemy of God!" said the keeper, "that thou art convicted of the murder of a Moslem named Mohammed. And know further, that his brother, named Mahmoud, has claimed thy life for the life of his brother, according to the law, and has brought an order from the Sultan (may his throne be exalted!) to deliver thee unto him."

He then turned and left the room, the door of which he closed after him; and the avenger of blood and his victim were left together.

Ali at once saw the extent of his danger, and that, if he failed to liberate himself from the remaining chain, his life was ended. Luckily for him Mahmoud had brought his gun unloaded; and as he was in no hurry, now that he seemed sure of his prey, the delay would give Ali the opportunity of making an effort to disengage himself from the chain. Revenge, like all fierce pleasures, is chiefly delightful in anticipation. Imagination exaggerating the enjoyment it promises, these feelings gradually die away as the time for action approaches; for if the excitement increased in proportion up to that point, the overstrained mind would render the body powerless to carry its plans into practice with firmness and success. Mahmoud was disappointed; he fixed his gaze on his victim expecting to see him quail with dread; he came to luxuriate in his fears, and gloat over his despair as he begged his forfeit life, and he anticipated the delight, when he begged for mercy, of planting the death-shot in his shrinking heart. But Ali returned his gaze undaunted, and he felt that his vengeance was incomplete.

He began charging his gun; his voice trembled with rage as he said,--

"O dog! you do not fear death? We shall see. You pretend to look calm, so does the wolf,--yet it dies. I do not believe you,--and now I see you tremble."

Ali's frame was quivering with the muscular exertion of forcing open the stubborn iron.

"Fear death!" echoed the Arab, with a scornful smile. "I have seen it too often; let your father's son tremble; your brother would have killed me and I took his life. I shrink not from the penalty; take my life and be satisfied."

"He confesses it, and braves me!" muttered Mahmoud through his clenched teeth, and his eyes glared as he dashed the fatal bullet into the barrel and rammed it down on the charge. "Have I lived to be braved by a vile Bedawi! Your life pay for his? No! not the lives of all your tribe; but," continued he, "though you do not fear, have you not left those in your accursed tent, whose pangs will contribute to my vengeance? Ha! have I stung you? you shall think of that for a space, before I take your dog's life."

The heart of Ali sunk within him, as he found himself utterly unable, without betraying his exertions, to force open the iron link; his only hope of escape from death was the probability of Mahmoud's coming within his reach; the remaining chain which held him was four feet long, and this with his own stride, would give him a lunge of eight feet, and as it is usual in these cases of judicial murder to put the muzzle of the gun to the victim's breast, the chance was possible.

Mahmoud, however, having primed his gun, seemed determined not to give him that chance of escape, and free from all apprehension of losing his revenge, pleased himself with cat-like ferocity, in playing with his victim. He went to the far end of the small room, and began taking deliberate aim, first at his victim's head and then at his heart. Ali shifted his position from side to side to deceive him.

"Why don't you shoot?" he said, "you could not hit a camel at that distance! See how his hand shakes! his heart would shake more if I was free! There, finish! is not your brother waiting for his revenge?"

Mahmoud, who had controlled himself all this time with the greatest difficulty, could no longer restrain his fury; he rushed upon him to place the muzzle to his breast with a yell of rage, when Ali, with one bound, sprang upon his foe, and before he could recover from his astonishment, had seized the gun, and felled him to the earth with the iron manacle on his wrist, completing his work by shooting him through the head with his own gun:--and he was free!

Having succeeded thus far, his next care was to secure his retreat; first disengaging himself from the chains, he fastened the door within, and then hastily changed his own upper dress for that of his senseless enemy, the soldier's high yellow boots concealed the shackles on his legs, while the manacles on his wrists were covered by the folds of his hayk; he gave a paler tinge to his bronzed face, with the white wash dust from the walls, he then attired Mahmoud in his coarse hayk, and taking the precaution of reloading the gun, he walked quietly out, with the hood of the burnoose muffling his face, the keeper only making a passing remark reflecting on his tardiness. As he expected, he found Mahmoud's horse at the gate, this he mounted, and pursued his way at a slow pace, but striking into the less frequented streets, until he entered a long arched passage; here he dismounted, looped the bridle to the high pommel, and fixing a small thorny branch under the girth to act as spurs, he let him loose, and the horse bounded down the street kicking and plunging, and disappeared round the corner; he thus cut off the clue to his discovery, should he be pursued, and then made his way to where his own horse awaited him.