l to the evangelical labors of the clergyman. But he himself
refused steadily and obstinately to believe in the miracle, although
Mohammed-si-Koualdia had never set foot in the house since the day when
he had invoked the charm. He remained outside the grounds, seated at
the door of a little cafe, plunged in meditation or in dreams, and
consuming hashish in large quantities. At the end of some time Mr.
Feathercock succeeded in persuading himself that what he was witnessing
was nothing more nor less than a perfectly simple and natural
phenomenon, perhaps not well understood hitherto, and due entirely to
the extraordinarily favorable action of melon pulp on the physical
development of turtles. He decided to cut off Zobeide's supply of
melons.

Finally there came a day when Mohammed, drunk with hashish, saw Hakem,
Mr. Feathercock's valet, returning from market with a large bunch of
fresh greens. He rose majestically, though with features distorted by
the drug, and followed the boy with hasty steps.

"Miserable one!" cried he to Mr. Feathercock. "Wretched worm, you have
tried to break the charm! Rejoice then, for you have succeeded and it
is broken. But let despair follow upon the heels of your rapture, for
it is broken in a way that you do not dream. Henceforth your turtle
shall _dwindle away_ day by day!"

The Rev. Mr. Feathercock tried to laugh, but he did not feel entirely
happy. On Sundays, at the services, the few faithful souls who remained
in his flock looked upon him with suspicion. At the English consulate
they spoke very plainly, telling him unsympathetically that anyone who
would make a friend of such a man as Mohammed-si-Koualdia and who would
mingle "promiscuously" with such rabble, need look for nothing but harm
from it.

Zobeide, when she was first confronted with the fresh, damp greens,
showed the most profound contempt for them. Unquestionably she
preferred melons. Mr. Feathercock applauded his own acumen. "She was
eating too much; that was the whole trouble," he said to himself. "And
that was what made her grow so remarkably. If she eats less she will
probably not grow so much. And if she should happen to die, I shall be
rid of her. Whatever comes, it will be for the best."

But the next day Zobeide gave up pouting and began very docilely to eat
the greens, and when the boy Hakem carried her next bunch to her he
said slyly:

"Effendi, she is growing smaller!"

The clergyman attempted to shrug his