and what a joy were it not to stand beside thee on the prow as
of old when we grapple with the Spaniard."

Asad considered him. "Dost thou, too, urge this?" quoth he.

"Have others urged it?" The man's sharp wits, rendered still sharper by
his sufferings, were cutting deeply and swiftly into this matter. "They
did well, but none could have urged it more fervently than I, for none
knows so well as I the joy of battle against the infidel under thy
command and the glory of prevailing in thy sight. Come, then, my lord,
upon this enterprise, and be thyself thine own son's preceptor since
'tis the highest honour thou canst bestow upon him."

Thoughtfully Asad stroked his long white beard, his eagle eyes growing
narrow. "Thou temptest me, by Allah!"

"Let me do more...."

"Nay, more thou canst not. I am old and worn, and I am needed here.
Shall an old lion hunt a young gazelle? Peace, peace! The sun has set
upon my fighting day. Let the brood of fighters I have raised up keep
that which my arm conquered and maintain my name and the glory of the
Faith upon the seas." He leaned upon Sakr-el-Bahr's shoulder and sighed,
his eyes wistfully dreamy. "It were a fond adventure in good truth. But
no...I am resolved. Go thou and take Marzak with thee, and bring him
safely home again."

"I should not return myself else," was the answer. "But my trust is in
the All-knowing."

Upon that he departed, dissembling his profound vexation both at the
voyage and the company, and went to bid Othmani make ready his great
galeasse, equipping it with carronades, three hundred slaves to row it,
and three hundred fighting men.

Asad-el-Din returned to that darkened room in the Kasbah overlooking
the courtyard, where Fenzileh and Marzak still lingered. He went to tell
them that in compliance with the desires of both Marzak should go forth
to prove himself upon this expedition.

But where he had left impatience he found thinly veiled wrath

"O sun that warms me," Fenzileh greeted him, and from long experience he
knew that the more endearing were her epithets the more vicious was her
mood, "do then my counsels weigh as naught with thee, are they but as
the dust upon thy shoes?"

"Less," said Asad, provoked out of his habitual indulgence of her
licences of speech.

"That is the truth, indeed!" she cried, bowing her head, whilst behind
her the handsome face of her son was overcast.

"It is," Asad agreed. "At dawn, Marzak, thou settest forth