e
have done, and to save him from any of that feeling of lassitude and
depression so usual among Englishmen working in hot climates. He was
returning one day from a ride; dusk had fallen, and when just beyond the
limits of the town he heard shouts and cries, and saw a scuffle going on
in the road. Cantering on, he leapt from his horse, dropped the reins on
its neck, and ran forward.

Two of the lowest class Maltese or Greeks were dragging a young Arab
along, holding his hands to prevent him getting at his knife, and
beating him about the head with their disengaged hands. It was evident
that he was not one of the dwellers in the city, but an Arab of the
desert. His horse stood near, and he had apparently been dragged from
it.

"What is the matter? what are you beating him for?" he asked in Italian.

"This Arab dog pushed against us with his horse, and when we cursed him,
struck at us."

"Well, if he did, you have punished him enough; but perhaps his story is
a different one."

"Go your way, boy," one exclaimed with a Greek oath, "or we will throw
you into that fountain, as we are going to do him."

"You will, eh? Unloose that lad at once or it will be worse for you."

The man uttered a shout of rage. "Hold this young Arab wolf's other
hand, Giaccamo, so that he cannot use his knife. I will settle this
boy;" and his companion seized the lad's other wrist.

He rushed at Edgar, waving his arms in windmill fashion, thinking to
strike him down without the least difficulty, but he was astounded at
being met with a terrific blow on the nose, which nigh threw him off
his balance, and this was followed an instant later by another on the
point of his chin, which hurled him back, half-stunned, to the ground,
with a vague impression in his mind that his head was broken into
fragments. Before he even thought of rising, Edgar sprang at his
companion, who, releasing the Arab boy's hands, grasped his knife, but
before he could draw it, a blow, given with all Edgar's strength and the
impetus of his bound forward, stretched him also on the ground, his
knife flying from his hand.

The Arab boy had drawn his knife also, but Edgar exclaimed to him in his
own language, "No, no, pick up the other knife, and then stand over him,
but don't stab him." Then he turned to his first assailant, who was
rising to his feet, still confused and bewildered. He had instinctively
drawn his knife.

"Drop your knife, drop it!" Edgar cried. But wit