of the reception by his host.

"Excuse me, Mr. Phillips," said William Sullivan, for it was he; "I fear
my visit is an intrusion."

"Do not speak of it," replied Mr. Amory. "I beg you to be seated;"
politely handing a chair.

Willie availed himself of the offered seat no further than to lean
lightly upon it with one hand, while he still remained standing. "You
have changed, sir," continued he, "since I last saw you."

"Changed! Yes, I am," said the other, absently.

"Your health, I fear, is not----"

"My health is excellent," said Mr. Amory, interrupting his remark. "It
is a long time, sir, since we met. I have not yet forgotten the debt I
owe you for your timely interference between me and Ali, that Arab
traitor, with his rascally army of Bedouin rogues."

"Do not name it, sir," said Willie. "Our meeting was fortunate; but the
benefit was as mutual as the danger to which we were alike exposed."

"I cannot think so. You seemed to have a most excellent understanding
with your own party of guides and attendants, Arabs though they were."

"True; I have had some experience in Eastern travel, and know how to
manage those inflammable spirits of the desert. But at the time I joined
you, I was myself entering the neighbourhood of hostile tribes, and
might soon have found our party overawed but for having joined forces
with yourself."

"You set but a modest value upon your conciliatory powers, young man. To
you, who are so well acquainted with the facts in the case, I can hardly
claim the merit of frankness for the acknowledgment that it was only my
own hot temper and stubborn will which exposed us both to the imminent
danger which you were fortunately able to avert. No, no! I must once
more express my gratitude for your invaluable aid."

"You are making my visit, sir," said Willie, smiling, "the very reverse
of what it was intended to be. I did not come here this evening to
receive but to render thanks."

"For what, sir?" asked Mr. Amory, abruptly, almost roughly. "You owe me
nothing."

"The friends of Isabella Clinton, sir, owe you a debt of gratitude which
it will be impossible for them ever to repay."

"You are mistaken, Mr. Sullivan; I have done nothing which places that
young lady's friends under a particle of obligation to me."

"Did you not save her life?"

"Yes; but nothing was further from my intention."

Willie smiled. "It could have been no accident, I think, which led you
to risk your own life t