Helmar made up his mind to sell his life
as dearly as possible, and, rushing into the porch of the biggest
house he saw, put his back to the wall and waited the oncoming mob.

Headed by a dozen or more soldiers, he saw the crowd enter the
square. At sight of him standing at bay a loud, exultant cry went
up, and they dashed towards him. He was fairly trapped now, and he
knew it; with his iron bar upraised he awaited the leaders,
determined that three or four should not escape him before he was
done to death. At this instant he heard a sound beside him, and
glancing in the direction, saw a door suddenly thrown open.

With instinct of self-preservation, he ran to it, and, without
waiting to see who was inside, rushed in, and immediately the door
was closed with a slam.

He had not the faintest idea where he was, and, for all he knew,
might have fallen into a worse trap than before; but the opportunity
had been too good for him to refuse to accept, and, as he paused in
the dim hall, ready to strike down any one who attempted any
violence, he was surprised to find it deserted.

Outside, the disappointed fanatics beat and hammered at the door,
and every moment Helmar expected to see it forced in. He scarcely
knew what to do. Suddenly he noticed in front of him a curtained
archway; he ran towards it, and flinging back the heavy tapestry he
started back as if he had been struck--he stood face to face with a
smiling countenance. He dropped his weapon and rushed forward with
hands outstretched, crying----

"Naoum! Friend Naoum! Thank God!"

"Luck is with you, friend Helmar," said the Arab quietly. "Allah is
great! Allah is good! He has brought you to me in your extremity.
But come in here, I must quiet the children of darkness."

He led the way in, and George found himself in a room of great
splendour, arranged in Eastern style. Turning to his old friend he
was about to speak, but the latter interrupted him.

"No, no, wait. There is danger; I must go and speak to the rebels,"
and he turned swiftly and left the room.

In a few moments the hammering and noise ceased, and presently Naoum
returned.

"Now tell me what all this means," he said, glancing at George's
dishevelled appearance, and doubtfully eyeing the torn clothes and
the worried face in front of him.

"It simply means that they wanted to murder me by roasting me alive,
and, failing that, with knives and clubs."

Helmar then recounted all that had happened