red the professor, looking at her steadily.
"Please tell me all."

"It was very foolish.--she said that then Alexander could marry me. It
was so silly of her. Just think!"

After all, Professor Cutter was her father's old friend. She need not
have been so long about telling the thing.

"She thinks that you are going to marry Paul?" observed the professor,
with an interrogative intonation.

"Well, if I did?" replied the young girl, after a short pause. "If she
were in her right mind, would that be any reason for her wishing to
murder him?"

"No. But I never believed she was out of danger," said Cutter. "Did she
say anything more?"

Hermione told how Madame Patoff had behaved when she had entered the
room. Her companion looked very grave, and said little during the few
moments they remained in the gallery. He only promised that he would
tell no one about it, unless it appeared absolutely necessary for the
safety of every one concerned. Then they descended the steps again and
joined Chrysophrasia and Paul, who were waiting below.

"Aunt Chrysophrasia says she must go to the bazaar," said the latter.

"Yes," remarked Miss Dabstreak, "I really must. That Jew! Oh, that Jew!
He haunts my dreams. I see him at night, dressed like Moses, with a
linen ephod, you know, holding up that Persian embroidery. It is more
than my soul can bear!"

"But we were going to take Professor Cutter to the other mosques,"
objected Hermione.

"I am sure he will not mind if we go to the bazaar instead, will you?"
she asked, with an engaging squint of her green eyes, as she turned to
the professor.

"Not at all,--not at all, Miss Dabstreak. Anything you propose--I am
sure"--ejaculated Cutter, apparently waking from an absorbing meditation
upon his thumb-nail, and perhaps upon thumb-nails in general.

"You see how kind he is!" murmured Chrysophrasia, as she got into the
carriage. "To the bazaar, Paul. Could you tell the driver?"

Paul could and did. Ten minutes later the carriage stopped at the gate
of the bazaar. A dozen Mohammedans, Greeks, and Jews sprang out to
conduct the visitors whither they would,--or, more probably, whither
they would not. But Paul, who knew his way about very well, fought them
off. One only would not be repulsed, and Chrysophrasia took his part.

"Let him come,--pray let him come, Paul. He has such beautiful eyes,
such soft, languishing eyes,--so sweetly like those of a gazelle."

"His name is Abraham," sai