a
share of the money they received for the slaves?"

"Yes," answered the merchant, "but I would not accept it."

"Have you, or your partners, received from the man, who claims three of
the slaves, twelve horses and thirty dollars?"

After some hesitation, Bo Muzem answered in the negative.

"The slaves belong to the Moor, Rais Mourad, who has paid the money for
them," said the governor, "and they shall not be taken from him here.
Depart from my presence, all of you."

All retired, and, as they did so, the grazier was heard to mutter that
there was no justice for Arabs in Morocco.

Rais Mourad gave orders to his followers to prepare for the road; and
just as they were ready to start, he requested Bo Muzem to accompany him
outside the walls of the city.

The merchant consented, on condition that his friend Mahommed the
grazier should go along with them.

"My friend," said Rais Mourad, addressing Bo Muzem, "you have been
deceived. Had you taken these Christians to Swearah, as you promised,
you would have certainly been paid for them all that you could
reasonably have asked. I live in Swearah, and was obliged to make a
journey to the south upon urgent business. Fortunately, on my return, I
met with your partners, and bought their slaves from them. The profit I
shall make on them will more than repay me all the expenses of my
journey. The man Mahommed, whom you call your friend, has bought two
other Christians. He has sold them to the English Consul. Having made
two hundred dollars by that transaction, he was anxious to trade you out
of these others, and make a few hundred more. He was deceiving you for
the purpose of obtaining them. There is but one God, Mahomet is his
prophet, and you are a fool!"

Bo Muzem required no further evidence in confirmation of the truth of
this statement. He could not doubt that the Moor was an intelligent man,
who knew what he was about when buying the slaves. The grazier Mahommed
had certainly purchased the two slaves spoken of, had acknowledged
having carried them to Swearah, and was now anxious to obtain the
others.

All was clear to him now; and for a moment he stood mute and motionless,
under a sense of shame at his own stupidity.

This feeling was succeeded by one of wild rage against the man who had
so craftily outwitted him.

Drawing his scimitar, he rushed towards the grazier, who, having been
attentive to all that was said, was not wholly unprepared for the
attack.