conduct them all the
way to the gates of Seleucia. The merchant would very much have liked
to know something of his wondrous deliverers, but as the dervish
answered all his questions with quotations from the Kuran, he learned
very little that was definite from that holy man.

When Seleucia came in sight, the merchant began thanking the dervish
for his good offices. "Do not weary thyself any further, worthy
Mussulman," cried he; "I know not how to reward thy labors, but Allah
will requite thee. I am a beggar. Thou dost see that I am as bare as
one of my fingers. The ocean hath swallowed up my all."

And all the while his reticule was full of precious stones; but he
would have considered it a very great act of folly not to have made
capital out of his wretchedness, and paid the dervish with fine words.

But the dervish would not even accept his thanks. "It is but my duty,"
said he, "and I did it not for thy sake, but for the sake of others."
And with that he quitted them, after giving a string of praying-beads
to each of the children.

The children went on in front till they reached the gate of the city,
talking in a low voice together; but when they found themselves in the
populous streets they took Leonidas by the hand, and Thomar said, "All
that was thine has been lost in the sea, and who will help us in the
great strange city, where nobody knows us? Let us therefore sing in
the market-place and before the houses of the great men, and they will
give us money, and so we shall be able to go on farther."

The merchant was greatly affected by this naive offer, and allowed the
children to sing in the market-place and in the porch of the pasha's
house, and in this way they gained enough money to enable them to go
on to the next city.

Thus, at last, they got back to Smyrna. If they had been his own
children Argyrocantharides could not have looked for greater and
heartier affection from them. They fasted that he might feast, they
shivered that he might be warmly clad, they denied themselves sleep
that he might slumber all the more tranquilly, and lowered themselves
to singing in the market-place that he might not be compelled to beg
at the corners of the streets.

Good children! sweet children!

As soon as the merchant could get a new ship he took them with him to
Stambul, and this time no misfortune happened to them by the way.

At Stambul he exhibited them to the Kizlar-Agasi, who, after examining
their limbs an