ose you understand how to effect this?" asked Hussain,
looking at Ali with a searching glance.

Ali was silent.

"Are you a freed slave? Who was your master in Bagdad before?"

In answer to this Ali mentioned a name.

"You seem to me to be rather an Arab than a Frank," said Hussain, very
emphatically.

As Ali was going to reply, Hussain suddenly exclaimed, "Yes, it is he,
I know the hateful countenance, I know the detestable features." Pale
with fury he put his hands to his side, but did not find his sword.
"Wait a moment," he said, with affected indifference, "I shall be here
again instantly."

Leaving the arbour hastily, he clapped his hands to summon a slave; but
none appearing, he hurried to the house. Ali and Gulhyndi were now in
the utmost despair.

"Come, my beloved," she said, as she embraced Ali, "only through the
heart of his daughter shall his sword find its way to yours."

"That would not be a very strong shield," cried a hoarse voice, from
the wall; "come, master, save your life, and own the fidelity of your
servant."

Ali cast his eyes upwards and saw Lockman sitting astride on the wall,
with a rope ladder which he quickly lowered. He embraced his beloved,
and availed himself of this mode of rescue, which came as if sent by
Heaven. He was soon on the other side of the wall with Lockman, who,
with singular speed, took him round the corner and concealed him in a
thick hedge. As soon as night came on he hastened home, attended by
Lockman, and thanked him for his marked fidelity and his intrepid
courage.

The first thing he now did was to speak to his father and confide his
secret to him. He said, at length, "As you love your son, conquer your
hatred against Hussain, go with me to him, solicit the hand of his
daughter for me, and offer your hand to him in reconciliation."

"Is this possible, my son?" said Ibrahim. "Can love so far carry you
away that it makes you forget what you owe to your father? You ask of
me to degrade myself for the sake of your passion?"

"Is it degrading to reconcile oneself with one's enemy?" asked Ali.

"I did once make a step towards a reconciliation," replied Ibrahim,
"which was contemptuously spurned, and I have sworn by the Omnipotent
Allah that as sure as the gold cloth was torn, so surely shall Hussain
be for ever torn from my heart. Compose yourself, my son, conquer your
passion; there are pretty girls enough in Bagdad besides her. I am
rich and can