vels in the capacity of personal servant and head
cook--partly because he could cook, partly because, in spite of the
Tahara-and-bottle-of-water-or-poison episode, we liked him, and he had
been a good servant according to his lights. After all, he was
probably as trustworthy, and more so, than any man we could pick up in
a hurry down south--at least, everybody warned us that they were a set
of rascals there, of whom we were to beware. Finally, he was used to
us and we were used to him. So S`lam set out with our cavalcade, and
we proposed to keep him while we were at Tangier, take him by boat to
Mogador, and after our march was over return him to Tetuan. But, while
"man proposes----"

I was sorry for Tahara. She was left behind with her old enemy--S`lam's
mother. He left the mother money, but Tahara not one flus. He said, too,
that when he came back from Morocco City he should go straight off to the
Riff and get work there; and Tahara would be left again. Such is the
custom of the country: the husband may go off for a year, at intervals
returning to his wife, whom he leaves generally under some sort of
supervision. So poor little Tahara, who had no voice in her marriage, but
had wept all the way to Tetuan under the escort of her bridegroom and
brother, was left penniless in the old mother's clutches. She had no
relatives near to help her, otherwise I have no doubt that she would have
got a divorce. We could only ask Z---- to keep an eye on her, for
interference in the Moorish domestic hearth on the part of a European
would be a fool's work indeed.

It was March 19 when we began to wander once more, having handed the keys
of Jinan Dolero back to its owner and cleared out the little white house.
Unfortunately we pitched on the _Aid-el-Kebeer_ (the Great Feast),
starting the very day before it was due; and, in consequence of the
Mohammedan-World being upside-down with joyful anticipation, could get no
good mules, nor induce any one but a Jew to leave Tetuan at such a time.
S`lam looked forward to feasting with his brother at Tangier, and started
off with a good grace. A more serious miss than either Moorish servants
or reliable mounts was perhaps a tent. There was none to be had in Tetuan
at just that time, and a night had to be passed upon the way. However,
there was no help for it: we set off as we were, and arrived towards
sunset at the half-way caravanserai, the little white-walled fondak on
the top of the hills, where