him in the Bashalik of Algiers, and that thus Oliver-Reis would
follow in the footsteps of Barbarossa, Ochiali, and other Christian
renegades who had become corsair-princes of Islam.

In spite of certain hostilities which his rapid advancement begot, and
of which we shall hear more presently, once only did his power stand in
danger of suffering a check. Coming one morning into the reeking bagnio
at Algiers, some six months after he had been raised to his captaincy,
he found there a score of countrymen of his own, and he gave orders that
their letters should instantly be struck off and their liberty restored
them.

Called to account by the Basha for this action he took a high-handed
way, since no other was possible. He swore by the beard of the Prophet
that if he were to draw the sword of Mahomet and to serve Islam upon the
seas, he would serve it in his own way, and one of his ways was that his
own countrymen were to have immunity from the edge of that same sword.
Islam, he swore, should not be the loser, since for every Englishman he
restored to liberty he would bring two Spaniards, Frenchmen, Greeks, or
Italians into bondage.

He prevailed, but only upon condition that since captured slaves were
the property of the state, if he desired to abstract them from the state
he must first purchase them for himself. Since they would then be his
own property he could dispose of them at his good pleasure. Thus did
the wise and just Asad resolve the difficulty which had arisen, and
Oliver-Reis bowed wisely to that decision.

Thereafter what English slaves were brought to Algiers he purchased,
manumitted, and found means to send home again. True, it cost him a
fine price yearly, but he was fast amassing such wealth as could easily
support this tax.

As you read Lord Henry Goade's chronicles you might come to the
conclusion that in the whorl of that new life of his Sir Oliver had
entirely forgotten the happenings in his Cornish home and the woman he
had loved, who so readily had believed him guilty of the slaying of her
brother. You might believe this until you come upon the relation of how
he found one day among some English seamen brought captive to Algiers
by Biskaine-el-Borak--who was become his own second in command--a young
Cornish lad from Helston named Pitt, whose father he had known.

He took this lad home with him to the fine palace which he inhabited
near the Bab-el-Oueb, treated him as an honoured guest, and sat t