own the
sacred sign. Then, as a fiendish look filled his face, he ordered the
chief eunuch to send me for sale in any market that would be open for
such carrion.

"At a word from the chief eunuch, the big Soudanese snatched me up in
his brawny hands, tucked me under his arm, as a father might laughingly
carry his five-year-old boy, and bore me off.

"The rest of the story is all too wonderful for more than the merest
outline. I was being taken through the streets, veiled, of course, to
a dealer in girls, when suddenly I saw my brother Hassan, coming
towards me. My veil, of course, would prevent his knowing me, but
tearing off my veil, I leaped towards him, crying:

"Hassan, Hassan, save me!"

She paused in her recital, her voice choked with deep emotion for a
moment, then, as she recovered herself, she went on:

"'How wonderful are God's providences! His ways are past finding out!'

"Hassan was walking--when I met him--with an officer of the American
Embassy--Hassan was clerking for this officer--and though the eunuch
tried to make a fuss, when he knew who the officer was, he scuttled
back to the Palace as hard as he could go.

"That night, Hassan and I left the city, lest there should be any
attempt to seize me, and--"

She paused suddenly, and he leaped to his feet at the same instant,
for, from the direction of the city, there came sounds of loud and
prolonged hurrahing.

"I will go out and see what is going on!" he said. "Perhaps," he
added, "in these disturbed times, it would be well for you to fasten
the doors, while I am gone. Whether the people of the house or I,
return first, you can easily ascertain who it is, before you open.
Meanwhile, find your way to the other parts of the house, and make
yourself coffee or anything else that you may need--and,"

He held out his hand--: "Good bye, for the present, and, another time,
you must tell me the rest of your wonderful story, and especially how
it came about that you knew so much of Christianity and yet did not
share in the 'Rapture' of Christ's own."

With the warmth of her Southern, Eastern nature, remembering how he had
saved her, she lifted the hand he gave her, to her lips, and kissed it
passionately, leaving two heavy tear-drops on it, when she dropped it.

A moment later she was alone. She had barred the outer doors, when he
left.

CHAPTER XI.

HERO-WORSHIP.

Neither George Bullen, or the "Lebanon Rose," whom he had so
opport