for them that such should be his will. Not for them to
question his wisdom and his decisions.

But Asad-ed-Din had lain overlong in Algiers whilst his fleets under
Sakr-el-Bahr and Biskaine had scoured the inland sea. The men were no
longer accustomed to the goad of his voice, their confidence in his
judgment was not built upon the sound basis of past experience. Never
yet had he led into battle the men of this crew and brought them forth
again in triumph and enriched by spoil.

So now they set their own judgment against his. To them it seemed a
recklessness--as, indeed, Marzak had suggested--to linger here, and his
mere announcement of his purpose was far from sufficient to dispel their
doubts.

The murmurs swelled, not to be overborne by his fierce presence and
scowling brow, and suddenly one of the renegades--secretly prompted by
the wily Vigitello--raised a shout for the captain whom they knew and
trusted.

"Sakr-el-Bahr! Sakr-el-Bahr! Thou'lt not leave us penned in this cove to
perish like rats!"

It was as a spark to a train of powder. A score of voices instantly took
up the cry; hands were flung out towards Sakr-el-Bahr, where he stood
above them and in full view of all, leaning impassive and stern upon
the poop-rail, whilst his agile mind weighed the opportunity thus thrust
upon him, and considered what profit was to be extracted from it.

Asad fell back a pace in his profound mortification. His face was livid,
his eyes blared furiously, his hand flew to the jewelled hilt of his
scimitar, yet forbore from drawing the blade. Instead he let loose upon
Marzak the venom kindled in his soul by this evidence of how shrunken
was his authority.

"Thou fool!" he snarled. "Look on thy craven's work. See what a devil
thou hast raised with thy woman's counsels. Thou to command a galley!
Thou to become a fighter upon the seas! I would that Allah had stricken
me dead ere I begat me such a son as thou!"

Marzak recoiled before the fury of words that he feared might be
followed by yet worse. He dared make no answer, offer no excuse; in that
moment he scarcely dared breathe.

Meanwhile Rosamund in her eagerness had advanced until she stood at
Sakr-el-Bahr's elbow.

"God is helping us!" she said in a voice of fervent gratitude. "This is
your opportunity. The men will obey you."

He looked at her, and smiled faintly upon her eagerness. "Ay, mistress,
they will obey me," he said. But in the few moments that were sped