silver on his breast, against that simple man in camel-skin, who owned
nothing and asked nothing, and feared neither Kaid nor King.

When Ben Aboo had regained himself, he saw Israel standing at the
doorway, and he beckoned to him with the downward motion, which is the
Moorish manner. And rising on his quaking limbs he took him aside and
said, "I know this fellow. Ya Allah! Allah! For all his vaunts and
visions he has gone to Abd er-Rahman. God will show! God will show! I
dare not take him! Abd er-Rahman uses him to spy and pry on his Bashas!
Camel-skin coat? Allah! a fine disguise! Bismillah! Bismillah!"

Then, looking back at the place where Mohammed in the vision saw his
body lie outstretched, he dropped his voice to a whisper, and said,
"Listen! You have my seal?"

Israel without a word, put his hand into the pocket of his waistband,
and drew out the seal of Ben Aboo.

"Right! Now hear me, in the name of the merciful God. Do not liberate
these infidel dogs at Shawan and do not give them so much as bread to
eat or water to drink, but let such as own them feed them. And if ever
the thing of which that fellow has spoken should come to pass--do you
hear?--in the hour wherein it befalls--Allah preserve me!--in that hour
draw a warrant on the Kaid of Shawan and seal it with my seal--are you
listening?--a warrant to put every man, woman, and child to the sword.
Ya Allah! Allah! We will deal with these spies of Abd er-Rahman!
So shall there be mourning at my burial--Holy Saints! Holy
Saints!--mourning, I say, among them that look for joy at my death."

Thus in a quaking voice, sometimes whispering, and again breaking into
loud exclamations, Ben Aboo in his terror poured his broken words into
Israel's ear.

Israel made no answer. His eyes had become dim--he scarcely saw the
walls of the place wherein they stood. His ears had become dense--he
scarcely heard the voice of Ben Aboo, though the Kaid's hot breath was
beating upon his cheek. But through the haze he saw the shadow of one
figure tramping furiously to and fro, and through the thick air the
voice of another figure came muffled and harsh. For Katrina, having
chased away with smiles the evil looks of Ben Aboo, had turned to Israel
and was saying--

"What is this I hear of your beautiful daughter--this Naomi of
yours--that she has recovered her speech and hearing! When did that
happen, pray? No answer? Ah, I see, you are tired of the deception. You
kept it up wel