view of all the market.

"Dost want him for the oar, Ali?" cried Ayoub-el-Samin across the
quadrangle, a jest this that evoked a general laugh.

"What else?" quoth Ali. "He should be cheap at least."

"Cheap?" quoth the dalal in an affectation of surprise. "Nay, now. 'Tis
a comely fellow and a young one. What wilt thou give, now? a hundred
philips?"

"A hundred philips!" cried Ali derisively. "A hundred philips for that
skinful of bones! Ma'sh'-Allah! Five philips is my price, O dalal."

Again laughter crackled through the mob. But the dalal stiffened with
increasing dignity. Some of that laughter seemed to touch himself, and
he was not a person to be made the butt of mirth.

"'Tis a jest, my master," said he, with a forgiving yet contemptuous
wave. "Behold how sound he is." He signed to one of the corsairs, and
Lionel's doublet was slit from neck to girdle and wrenched away from his
body, leaving him naked to the waist, and displaying better proportions
than might have been expected. In a passion at that indignity Lionel
writhed in the grip of his guards, until one of the corsairs struck him
a light blow with a whip in earnest of what to expect if he continued
to be troublesome. "Consider him now," said the dalal, pointing to that
white torso. "And behold how sound he is. See how excellent are his
teeth." He seized Lionel's head and forced the jaws apart.

"Ay," said Ali, "but consider me those lean shanks and that woman's
arm."

"'Tis a fault the oar will mend," the dalal insisted.

"You filthy blackamoors!" burst from Lionel in a sob of rage.

"He is muttering curses in his infidel tongue," said Ali. "His temper is
none too good, you see. I have said five philips. I'll say no more."

With a shrug the dalal began his circuit of the well, the corsairs
thrusting Lionel after him. Here one rose to handle him, there another,
but none seemed disposed to purchase.

"Five philips is the foolish price offered me for this fine young
Frank," cried the dalal. "Will no True-Believer pay ten for such a
slave? Wilt not thou, O Ayoub? Thou, Hamet--ten philips?"

But one after another those to whom he was offered shook their heads.
The haggardness of Lionel's face was too unprepossessing. They had seen
slaves with that look before, and experience told them that no good was
ever to be done with such fellows. Moreover, though shapely, his muscles
were too slight, his flesh looked too soft and tender. Of what use a
slave