formed him. "I doubt not that
many would be influenced by their faith, but many would stand by
thee against the Grand Sultan himself. And do not forget," he added,
instinctively lowering his voice, "that many of us are renegadoes like
myself and thee, who would never know a moment's doubt if it came to
a choice of sides. But I hope," he ended in another tone, "there is no
such danger here."

"And so do I, in all faith," replied Sakr-el-Bahr, with fervour. "Yet
I am uneasy, and I must know where I stand if the worst takes place. Go
thou amongst the men, Vigitello, and probe their real feelings, gauge
their humour and endeavour to ascertain upon what numbers I may count
if I have to declare war upon Asad or if he declares it upon me. Be
cautious."

Vigitello closed one of his black eyes portentously. "Depend upon it,"
he said, "I'll bring you word anon."

On that they parted, Vigitello to make his way to the prow and there
engage in his investigations, Sakr-el-Bahr slowly to retrace his steps
to the poop. But at the first bench abaft the gangway he paused, and
looked down at the dejected, white-fleshed slave who sat shackled
there. He smiled cruelly, his own anxieties forgotten in the savour of
vengeance.

"So you have tasted the whip already," he said in English. "But that
is nothing to what is yet to come. You are in luck that there is a wind
to-day. It will not always be so. Soon shall you learn what it was that
I endured by your contriving."

Lionel looked up at him with haggard, blood-injected eyes. He wanted
to curse his brother, yet was he too overwhelmed by the sense of the
fitness of this punishment.

"For myself I care nothing," he replied.

"But you will, sweet brother," was the answer. "You will care for
yourself most damnably and pity yourself most poignantly. I speak from
experience. 'Tis odds you will not live, and that is my chief regret. I
would you had my thews to keep you alive in this floating hell."

"I tell you I care nothing for myself," Lionel insisted. "What have you
done with Rosamund?"

"Will it surprise you to learn that I have played the gentleman and
married her?" Oliver mocked him.

"Married her?" his brother gasped, blenching at the very thought. "You
hound!"

"Why abuse me? Could I have done more?" And with a laugh he
sauntered on, leaving Lionel to writhe there with the torment of his
half-knowledge.

An hour later, when the cloudy outline of the Balearic Isles had
acqui