vernment in whose orbit it shines with so deathly a light. I fear it
is that one of my family and of my humble village lies beaten to death
in Damascus. Yet not because of that do I raise my voice here to-day.
These many years Benn Claridge carried his life in his hands, and in
a good cause it was held like the song of a bird, to be blown from his
lips in the day of the Lord. I speak only as an Englishman. I ask you
to close your minds against the words of this brilliant politician, who
would have you settle a bill of costs written in Christian blood, by a
promise to pay, got through a mockery of armed display in those waters
on which once looked the eyes of the Captain of our faith. Humanity has
been put in the witness-box of the world; let humanity give evidence."

Women wept. Men waved their hats and cheered; the whole meeting rose to
its feet and gave vent to its feelings.

For some moments the tumult lasted, Eglington looking on with face
unmoved. As David turned to leave the table, however, he murmured,
"Peacemaker! Peacemaker!" and smiled sarcastically.

As the audience resumed their seats, two people were observed making
their way to the platform. One was Elder Fairley, leading the way to a
tall figure in a black robe covering another coloured robe, and wearing
a large white turban. Not seeing the new-comers, the chairman was about
to put the resolution; but a protesting hand from John Fairley stopped
him, and in a strange silence the two new-comers mounted the platform.
David rose and advanced to meet them. There flashed into his mind that
this stranger in Eastern garb was Ebn Ezra Bey, the old friend of Benn
Claridge, of whom his uncle had spoken and written so much. The same
instinct drew Ebn Ezra Bey to him--he saw the uncle's look in the
nephew's face. In a breathless stillness the Oriental said in perfect
English, with a voice monotonously musical:

"I came to thy house and found thee not. I have a message for thee from
the land where thine uncle sojourned with me."

He took from a wallet a piece of paper and passed it to David, adding:
"I was thine uncle's friend. He hath put off his sandals and walketh
with bare feet!" David read eagerly.

"It is time to go, Davy," the paper said. "All that I have is thine. Go
to Egypt, and thee shall find it so. Ebn Ezra Bey will bring thee. Trust
him as I have done. He is a true man, though the Koran be his faith.
They took me from behind, Davy, so that I was spar